#You mean we don’t know the specifics of his death?? Sign me up I’m about to Shakespearean tragedy this shit

[caterpillarinacave]

Lemme tell y’all natm was a franchise tailor made for my dramatic poetic tragedy obsessed, chewing on symbolism and theatrics, unyielding autistic self

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [37] - Crown

A.N: Last two chapters! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Live by the sword, die by the sword.

Word Count: 2700

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, violence, I'M SERIOUS THERE IS VIOLENCE IN THIS ONE, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

If anything, it started out as a normal day.

“You are so pretty!” you told Alpine as you fixed the ribbon around her neck, then held up the feathery pen so that she could jump at it while you sat on the floor. “Yes you are! The prettiest princess in the entire world!”

“Charm?”

“Over here!” you called out and heard Bucky come downstairs, then he filled himself a cup of coffee before looking over his shoulder.

“You want some babe?”

“Nope,” you said, stroking Alpine’s fur. “Bucky, what are the chances that we got the prettiest and nicest cat in the entire world?”

“Zero, she’s an asshole.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“I love her, but it doesn’t mean she’s not an asshole,” Bucky said. “She never comes when I call.”

“Because she’s a cat, not a dog,” you said. “If we have a child one day, we’re so calling them Alpine Two.”

“We’re not going to do that.”

“Alpine Two and Alpine Three.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Don’t listen to him, they’ll be Alpine Two and Three,” you told Alpine as Bucky sipped his coffee.

“Do you wanna grab lunch today?”

“I can’t,” you said. “I promised Ethan.”

He blinked a couple of times. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am not having this argument with you again when we’re in love and fucking each other’s brains out every night,” you pointed out, making him grin. “Relax with the jealousy dumbass, you already know I’m in love with you.”

He heaved a sigh, then held up his hands.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Go meet the puppy.”

“Bucky.”

“Is he not a puppy around you?”

“He’s my friend,” you said. “My friend whom I haven’t met in a while.”

“Yeah yeah…”

You scratched at Alpine’s head when she head bumped your knee while Bucky tilted his head.

“Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been weird since we had dinner at your father’s place.”

“Sure,” you said after a beat and he raised his brows.

“Charm.”

“No I’m fine,” you said. “I’m fine, I’ve just been thinking.”

“About?”

“Business,” you said. “My father’s business, to be specific.”

He sipped his coffee. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“God no,” you said. “Of course not. I’m thinking about the consequences of it, that’s all. What it will mean for me.”

“It means the crown for you.”

You pursed your lips together. “And for Ian?”

He scoffed. “Who cares? You hate Ian.”

“Obviously I hate him,” you said. “But I’ll have to kill him, you do know that.”

“He signed his own death warrant the moment he accepted that heir position at the expense of you,” Bucky said. “I’ll kill him for you if you want.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “How fucked up is it that I find this romantic?”

“That’s because I am romantic,” he said with a smirk. “Seriously. If you want me to—”

“I’ll just cross that bridge when I come to it,” you pointed out. “I appreciate the offer though.”

Bucky checked his wristwatch, then came closer to you to kiss you on the top of your head, and scratched at Alpine’s head.

“Gotta go,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Sure!” you said and watched him walk out of the apartment, then heaved a sigh and looked down at Alpine.

“Alright,” you said. “Come on, let’s get you some treats.”

                                             *

The café Ethan had suggested was in your father’s territory, so it was a short car drive. Seeing that the weather was slowly getting cold nowadays, it didn’t surprise you to see Ethan already inside the nearly empty café as you walked in, and waved at him before making your way to him.

“Hey!” you said and he stood up to hug you.

“Hey stranger,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

“It really has,” you said, motioning for a cup of coffee at the waitress who forced a smile, then disappeared into the kitchen. You frowned slightly, but then turned to look at Ethan when he cleared his throat.

“So what’s been up with you lately?”

“Absolute chaos,” you pointed out, making him smile. “No seriously, things are just now starting to calm down.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah there was this business thing,” you muttered. “Never mind. How about you? What have you been doing lately?”

“I’m actually…” he paused for a moment. “I’m actually moving back to my hometown.”

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping.

“What?” you asked. “Why?”

“I don’t think New York is for me,” he said as you heard the wind bells chime by the door. “Or any big city for that matter.”

You opened your mouth to ask why, but a strange shiver went down your spine, the hair at the back of your neck rising up as his eyes went over your shoulder. You didn’t even have the time to think, your body seemed to have responded on instinct as the result of many years of training, so you kicked the table in his direction and jumped to your feet, but before you could turn around, two men had already grabbed you by the arms. You managed to kick one of them, turning around to punch the other, but another man caught your fist and turned you around, his friend punching you right on the nose so hard that you knew from the crack that he broke it before the blinding pain shot through your face. You stumbled back as two of them held you by the arms again and another one grabbed his gun, flipped it and slammed it on your head.

Then everything went black.

                                              *

You couldn’t tell which one woke you up, the cold or the burning pain starting from your nose and spreading through your whole head. Your vision was blurry when you forced yourself to open your eyes, now realizing your hands were bound and a groan left your lips as you blinked as fast as you could to see better.

Ah.

Two of Ian’s men were waiting by the door along while Ethan sat across from you, his eyes fixed on the floor. You could feel your heart dropping to your stomach but you forced yourself to focus, there had to be a way out of this—

You just needed to find it.

The room you were in appeared to be a butcher’s freezer, which made you think you were at the edge of your father’s territory. The pain in your head was so heavy that you could barely just hold your head up, let alone moving your body so you gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath through your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Ethan’s voice and you turned your head to see him looking down at the gun in his lap, your hands shooting up to wipe the blood on your face before touching your forehead.

Okay, that needed stitches.

“You’re sorry?” you repeated with a dry laugh. “How long have you been working for him?”

He shook his head fervently, rubbing his thumb over the gun.

“I don’t—I didn’t—” he stammered. “He contacted me couple of months ago.”

You raised your brows. “Let me guess, he’s paying you a shit load of money?”

He shook his head again.

“He said…he said he’d kill me if I didn’t...” he muttered. “For God’s sake I never wanted this whole bullshit, I don’t even know how to use—” he pushed at the tiny button beside the gun, the magazine dropping to the floor and a couple of bullets scattering around as one of Ian’s men came closer.

“What the fuck?” he asked him, snatching the gun out of his hand and picking up the magazine before walking to the other side of the room to continue his conversation with the other man. You gritted his teeth, anger pulsing through you.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan repeated and you shook your head.

“You know you’re going to die right?” you asked him. “You’ve just signed your own death warrant by pulling this shit.”

“Civilians aren’t harmed, that’s what the truce—”

“Civilians aren’t harmed as long as they remain civilians,” you corrected him, pulling at the rope around your wrists to loosen it a little. “You’ve just thrown your hat in the ring, buddy. And trust me; if Ian doesn’t kill me, I’ll kill you and if he does manage to kill me, Bucky will hunt you down, and kill you. Torture you first probably too. So regardless of if I die or not, you definitely will Ethan.”

“I’ll move out of the city.”

“There’s no city we can’t reach.”

“That’s not true,” he argued with you. “Everyone is saying Chicago is its own city.”

A small smile curled your lips despite fear churning your stomach, a small spark of satisfaction rushing through you.

“Right,” you said. “Sure. Move to Chicago.”

He swallowed thickly, then turned his head when the door opened and Ian walked in with Ryan. Ryan stopped dead in his tracks as soon as his eyes fell on your face, but then he gritted his teeth, snapping something at the men by the door under his breath. It was impossible to hear what he had said, but judging by the way it made them step back, it couldn’t be anything nice.

“Hi there cousin,” Ian had the audacity to smile at you as Ethan stood up from his chair.

“I can go right?” he said. “You promised.”

“Sure, some of our boys will accompany you to the border of the city, then you’re on your own,” Ian said. “Thank you for this. New York will owe you.”

You clenched your jaw, glaring up at Ian as Ethan walked out of the room and Ian tut tutted.

“You just couldn’t help it, could you?” he asked you. “All you had to do was just marry Barnes and give him an heir, and then you could spend money and do nothing for the rest of your life, but you just couldn’t do it.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Those are some big words for someone who’s about to die.”

No.

You couldn’t let panic take over your mind, you just couldn’t.

The safest option was to cling to anger.

“You don’t get to kill me and stay alive, Ian.”

“Oh I won’t be the one who killed you,” he said. “Your ex-boyfriend did. Everyone saw him meet you at that café after all.”

“And you think my dad will buy that bullshit?”

“I’ll make him buy it.”

“You think Bucky will buy that?” you spat and he shrugged his shoulders.

“No, he will come after me,” Ian said. “And that’ll start a war. Too bad.”

You gritted your teeth. “You don’t have the means to survive a war, dickhead.”

“You have no reason to worry about that,” Ian said. “You’re not walking out of here alive after all.”

You licked your lips, the metallic taste of blood reaching your throat as Ian nodded at his men.

“Untie her.”

One of his men came to cut the rope around your wrist and helped you up while the other one pointed his gun at you just in case. The whole room was spinning around you, your heart beating in your throat but you tried to fix your breathing.

It was fine.

It was going to be fine.

“Ryan, my gun,” Ian ordered and Ryan stared at you, then pulled out the gun from his waistband, quickly taking out the magazine to check the bullets before sliding it in again.

“Leave us,” Ian said and Ryan licked his lips, stealing a look at you before he walked outside with the rest of Ian’s men following him. He slammed the heavy door behind them and you clenched your fists, still glaring at Ian.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Ian said, pointing the gun at your face. “I did, numerous times. Get on your knees.”

“No,” you said. “If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to kill me standing.”

Ian took a deep breath, then swallowed thickly.

“As you wish,” he said and raised the gun a little to aim for your forehead, the fear making your eyes burn but you quickly blinked the tears back, forcing yourself to focus on—

Bucky.

It was strange, how it worked. Everyone talked about how this business was dangerous, but no one talked about what one would think when there was a gun about to blow their head off.

There was fear yes, but the memory of happiness shed a small ray of sunlight on it. Knowing Bucky would stop at nothing to take your revenge almost soothed the pain of knowing you would never see him again, at least—

At least in this life.

But you knew you loved him. He knew you loved him.

That was enough, somehow. Even with a gun pointing at your head.

“Live by the sword, die by the sword,” Ian recited. “Goodbye, cousin.”

You closed your eyes, holding your breath and bracing yourself for the deafening gunshot but the only thing that echoed through the room was the empty click, making your eyes snap open while Ian gawked at the gun in his hand, fear flashing over his face as he froze.

…Ryan.

Ryan had taken out the bullets.

The adrenaline that roared through you was powerful enough to overcome the fog in your brain or the pain on your face as you lunged at him to knock the gun out of his hand, slamming him back to the heavy door, the unmistakable sound of gunshots echoing outside. Ian shoved you back as hard as he could and tried to swing a punch at you but you quickly dodged it, elbowing him on the nose.

“Welcome to your cage fight, Ian,” you spat as he wiped at his nose.

“You dumb bitch…” he muttered, then swung at you again but you quickly stepped back, grabbed his wrist and turned it with all your strength until you heard the pop, and his yell of pain. He kicked you on the knee hard, making you scream out of pain as you stumbled back, and he tried to grab at you with his other hand but you had already punch him right in the neck, making him gasp and fall on his knees, clutching at his neck.

“You know,” you said, breathing hard as you grabbed the gun off the floor and picked up one of the bullets Ethan had dropped earlier. “I should thank you for this. I was having second thoughts earlier, but now…”

He was still gasping for air as you slid the magazine out, put the bullet inside and slid it back again, making him drag himself back on his palms until his back hit the wall.

“Exile me,” he managed to say, and you tilted your head. “Exile me somewhere else.”

You shook your head, adrenaline making your head spin.

“You know how this shit goes,” you said through clenched teeth. “You tried to kill me. Exiling you isn’t enough.”  

“I’ll forfeit the title!” he said, still breathless and you shook your head again, then pointed the gun at him with a sigh.

“I'm sorry Ian,” you said. “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

With that, you pulled the trigger and heard the loud bang before the blood splattered over your face, making you grimace as his body slipped on the floor. You wiped at your face, then slammed open the door to point the gun at whoever was outside, but the only thing you could see was Ian’s men bleeding on the ground while Ryan stood by the door, his back straight as if he was waiting for your order.

“Ma’am,” he said with his hands clasped behind him, and he bowed his head a little as you smiled at him.

“Thank you,” you rasped out, raising your head to stare up at the dark sky before turning to him. “Ryan, is there any chance you’re looking for a new job?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

“Working for your father’s heir would be an honor, ma’am,” he said softly and you let out a small laugh.

“Good,” you said as you limped to the car parked right outside the back alley with Ryan following you. “You’re hired.”

Chapter 38

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Eight)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, Arkham Knight, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief, violence, panic attacks, PTSD

Part Eight: Your Jason

You, Dick and Barbra go through the video frame by frame looking for clues as to where Jason is.

“That has to be Arkham,” you say.

“We cleared it,” Dick says.

“The video could be old,” Barbra suggests.

“It’s rained the past few days and only stopped today, you can’t hear any rain in the video so it has to be new,” you say. “We should go back to Arkham.”

“Barbra will you stay here and keep looking for clues in the video and Y/N and I will go to Arkham?” Dick asks. Barbra nods.

“Can you send me blueprints of Arkham?” You ask Barbra.

“Will do,” she says.

You and Dick get to Arkham and Barbra sends you the blueprints. You pull them up on a laptop.

“Okay X off every wing you searched,” you tell him. He begins to go through the blueprints and cross off rooms when suddenly, he freezes.

“What?” You ask. He says nothing, simply stares at the screen. “Dick what is it?”

“This wing,” he says as he circles it on the screen. “I don’t know what it is, it doesn’t exist…”

“What do you mean doesn’t exist?” You say.

“There was nothing there when we went through, I have no idea what that is,” he says.

“Idiot,” you mumble. You start running into Arkham and Dick chases after you. You get to where the entrance to the wing supposedly is. It’s just a brick wall.

“Are the blueprints wrong?” You ask him.

“No they can’t be,” he says. Dick presses his ear to the wall and knocks. “This isn’t a real fucking wall,” he says angrily. Dick grabs an old pipe lying on the floor and starts swinging at the wall. It cracks a bit. He throws the pipe once there’s a small hole in the wall and begins breaking the fake wall down with his hands. You and him climb through the hole in the wall. “Stay close,” he whispers. You unknowingly pass a motion sensor and suddenly the whole hallway lights up. Colorful lights line the hall and circus music blares. Your eyes widen as you see a something behind Dick. You point to a sign behind him that says, “follow the footprints.” The letters are written in blood. You look down and see a trail of bloody footprints. “Y/N wait!” Dick says. You sprint down the hall following the footprints. You run for about a minute then they end at a locked door. You try the handle but it won’t budge. You throw your body against the door in desperation but you’re just not strong enough.

“Dick!” You yell. Dick runs up behind you. “I can’t get the door open!” You say frantically. Dick throws his body against the door and on the third try it flys open. You run in to find Jason lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. You run to him, slip in the blood and fall. “Jason!” You say as you check his pulse. “Jason,” you cry as you cradle his head in your hands. His cold dead eyes stare back at you. Dick carefully kneels down and he reaches out to close Jason’s eyes. “Don’t touch him!” You yell as you hold Jason’s corpse. Dick walks over to the wall and unplugs the lights and circus music. You notice a “J” carved into Jason’s face. His face is covered in dirt and blood splatters, the only clean spots are where his tears have dried up. Your heart breaks as you look at Jason; your Jason.

“I called Barbra,” Dick says softly. You simply put your head on Jason’s chest and sob.

Before you know it the place is crawling with cops. Jason’s now under a white sheet and cops work around you tagging evidence. You walk over to Dick and say, “the cops shouldn’t be here, Bruce should fucking be here.”

“I don’t like the cops being here either, more than half of them are dirty,” Dick says. “As for Bruce I just got off the phone with him, he’s flying back tomorrow.” You say nothing, you just stare at the white sheet covering the love of your life. “If you give me your phone I’ll call Roy,” Dick says. You mindlessly hand him your phone.

“Call Thea, I don’t have Roy’s number,” you say. “Have you called Gar and everyone?” You ask.

“I will after I get off the phone with Roy,” Dick says.

He’s about to go into the hall when you say, “thank you Dick.” He simply nods and walks into the hall. Everyone is busy. You walk over to Jason’s body and lift the sheet enough to pull his stack of bracelets off his wrist. There was a black leather one with the logo of his favorite band, a braided green one Gar had made, a silver one with a small red ruby (you have a necklace with a small pink diamond which matched), and your bra strap you’d tied into a bracelet for him. You put the bracelets in your pocket and then cover his hand back up.

When you first met Jason when he rescued you from poison ivy you never imagined you’d see him again, and then once you met him you never knew you two would be so close, never imagined you’d fall in love, and you never thought you’d lose him.

Hey, I hope you enjoyed this fic, if you did remember to like. I appreciate any positive feedback, it encourages me to keep writing and posting parts. I love being dramatic and honestly don’t know why I didn’t write fanfiction sooner. I hope you are having fun reading this cause I’m having fun writing it. Check out my Masterlist if you haven’t read the other parts and want to. I have a lot more ideas for developing the red hood plot and backstory for how the reader meets Dick and Jason and becomes a titan so if your interested in staying up to date with the fics then please follow me. The next two days are going to be busy for me so if I don’t post just know I haven’t abandoned the fic (I’ll probably still post tho cause I tend to add to this when I’m half asleep super late lol) Happy holidays🩷

Here’s a link to my Masterlist if you want to read the other parts.

Masterlist

[ravendruid]

Because I'm still waiting for that "rain check" to be cashed in the future, how about "slow dance" with Vax and Kiki?

Hello! Thank you for the prompt!! This fic was inspired by the trailer for Season 3 of The Legend of Vox Machina. Spoilers for anyone who has watched/is watching TLOVM but has not watched Campaign One!

If I could hold you for a minute

(Read on AO3)

Vax leans over the rail on the high balcony that overlooks the scintillating lights of Whitestone, far down below him. The light of Catha shines brightly in the new leaves of the Sun Tree in the center of town, a sign of hope and prosperity for the newly rebuilt city. With two dragons down, Vax allows himself to feel that slight burn of hope, too, even though he is not entirely confident about their alliance with Raishan. The day will come when Vax will enact his revenge on the creature who murdered his mother, but for now, he will enjoy the warm feeling of hope and the respite after an arduous battle.

It’s funny, though, how Vax sees the light go off two rooms down and the corner of his mouth immediately curls up into a smile. He exits the balcony and waits by the door of his bedroom, listening to the not-so-quiet footsteps of his favorite druid, and, right on cue, she knocks at his door.

Vax opens the door, not entirely surprised to see Keyleth still in her battle gear—he is still in his armor, after all—with a tight smile on her face. “Can I stay with you tonight?” She asks. Gods know how much Vax wants her to stay, but instead of opening his mouth and accidentally saying something shitty as he is prone to do sometimes, he simply takes a step back and invites her in with a smile.

“Were you outside?” Keyleth asks, noticing the open glass door. Vax nods, still too scared to speak. He holds out his hand to her, which she takes, then leads them both out into the chill of the night. “Today was hard,” Keyleth whispers as if she is afraid the city will hear her vacillate. “I was afraid I was going to lose you for a moment, there.”

“I’m sorry,” Vax manages with a hoarse voice. 

“You know, I’ve been afraid for so long that I would lose you–all of you, but you specifically,” Keyleth turns her back on the city and looks up at the stone walls of the castle above her. Vax glaces sideways at her and waits for her to continue as he knows she is not done yet. “And I guess it’s a valid fear considering…”

“Considering what?” Vax persuades her when Keyleth takes too long to continue.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this but, if by some crazy chance we all somehow make it through this alive—with the Chroma Conclave, I mean—and I go on to complete my Aramente, I will still watch you all die.”

Vax shifts uncomfortably, looking at Keyleth more seriously now. She is still so young and she already bears a heavy burden, but then again, don’t they all? Doesn’t Vax, too, now that he thinks about it? Doesn’t the weight of the armor press on him in a permanent reminder of his bond to the God of Death?

“By becoming headmaster of the Air Ashari, I will enter a bit of a realm of immortality of sorts, where I could live for a very, very long time. And I’ve been afraid every time I look at one of your faces that it’s going to be the last, and, deep down, I know that day is coming.”

Vax turns sideways to look at her, noticing the downwards curl of Keyleth’s lips, and says, “I know that with everything that has happened, between my new patron and killing dragons, we haven’t had the time to talk properly, but I need you to know, through everything, nothing has changed about how I feel about you. I know death is unavoidable,” Vax snickers at that seeing that he now works for the God of Death herself—whatever that means—then continues, “even if you go on to live a long time, if you are willing to spend some of that time, any time, with me, then I will simply count myself lucky to have it. You’re very dear to me.”

Vax is shocked at the tremble in his voice. In his head, his speech sounded more confident, but hearing his words be spoken in the cold air of Whitestone makes them sound less solid.

“I’ve… had an interesting talk with Vex’ahlia recently, and then with Pike. They have helped me see the other side of the coin.” Keyleth says, then she pulls away from the rail and re-enters Vax’s bedroom. He observes her through the open door and sees the half-elf light the fireplace with her magic—a sight that makes Vax warm and fuzzy inside—and stand by the fire. He follows her then, closing the doors to make sure the heat doesn’t escape, and joins her.

“You know… I’ve been thinking and I think I realized something,” Keyleth approaches Vax and grabs one of his hands by the side of his torso. The touch is warm and comforting, but her hopeful smile is even more. “I realized this whole time that I was afraid of losing you to a future that ultimately has not yet been written, which I know it’s stupid, and I realized that it’s okay to be scared. We still have a lot of demons to face, but we can face anything if we’re together, and I know I, personally, would rather face them at your side.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you, Vax. I have for a long time, and I’m sorry it took me this long to say it.” Keyleth finishes, placing a hand on Vax’s chest. The touch burns through the thick leather of his armor, through his skin and muscles until it reaches his heart and encloses itself around the organ. If the sight of the moonlight on the Sun Tree’s leaves and the flickering of life in the city of Whitestone were already hopeful boons, Keyleth’s words and touch practically make Vax float with hope.

“I–I love you,” Vax smiles brighter than he’s ever done recently. Keyleth sniffles and chuckles lightly, then says, “I love you, too,” and, for a moment, Vax thinks she raises her hand to ask for a high-five, but then thinks better of it and wraps her arms around his neck. 

“May I kiss you?” He asks, knowing full well Keyleth is not as experienced as he is and not wanting to scare her. She nods bashfully, so Vax leans down and kisses her softly. Her lips are warm like fire and sweet like the berry wine they had for dinner. Vax could easily get lost in the softness of Keyleth’s touch, of her lips responding to him, of the tip of her tongue timidly searching for his. Vax indulges his curious druid and slips his tongue inside her mouth. Gods, if he already wanted to leave it all behind for her, now truly feeling the buzzing in his stomach at the contact and the love he has for this woman, he wants to disappear with her from the face of Exandria and live a secluded life, just the two of them.

“Oh, wow,” Keyleth pants. Even though their foreheads are touching and they are too close, Vax can still see the deep red blush on her cheeks, which he finds adorable.

“That was pretty fucking great,” He says, short of breath, too.

“That was pretty great, yeah,” And this time, Vax doesn’t imagine it. Keyleth does raise her hand in a high-five motion, which he awkwardly and giggly replies.

“I–I owe you a dance, don’t I?” Vax remembers all those nights ago in a lost tavern in the ruins of Westruun. Gods, has it really been that long?

“We don’t have music,” Keyleth points out, but Vax shrugs, “We don’t need music.”

Vax places Keyleth’s arms around his shoulders again, then wraps his own arms around her waist and leans foreheads with her one more time. He starts swinging them, side to side, with only the flames of the fireplace and the stray rays of moonlight lighting the room as he murmurs an old son his mother used to sing when she worked on her clothes. Keyleth sighs as she allows herself to relax and leans into Vax, following his lead, which he savors, not knowing if this is the last time they get to do this.

With two dragons to fight, and who knows what’s going to happen next, Vax can’t still fully relax, but right now, in Keyleth’s warm embrace, he tries his best to leave his fears at the door. It’s the least he can do for for the woman he loves.

[heliza24]

I love the Louis and Lestat reunion so much.

I cried seeing modern New Orleans. I was lucky enough to travel there last fall. I went because of Interview with the Vampire, but the trip was really meaningful to me on a personal level too. It was the first place that I had traveled after becoming disabled and the first place I went since Covid. (my friend and I managed to do the trip in a Covid cautious way, which was important since I am still clinically vulnerable.) I will never forget how people went out of their way to make sure I had wheelchair access there, even around the crumbly old French quarter. I will also never forget crying at the Halloween parade because suddenly I was surrounded by people who like to dress up and have fun and exactly the same way that I do. it sounds silly, but suddenly I was in an entire city that matched my very specific nerdy type of freak, you know what I mean? So I think the city will always represent a kind of personal and story redemption for me.

The fact that Louis and Lestat reunion is based on both accepting responsibility and forgiving each other for Claudia‘s life and death is so special I think. They connect over their shared grief for her and their relationship. The show has never been about assigning blame or being deemed innocent of wrongdoing. It’s about how we live with the mistakes we’ve made, and the grief we have to carry. The true catharsis of the reunion was Louis thanking Lestat for vampirism, and the way that it will allow him a second chance to honor his grief in a way he hasn’t until now. Like that’s so beautiful and complex. Any other show would’ve made it just about them getting back together romantically. They’re not ready for that yet I don’t think. But the emotions they were able to share with each other in that scene were just so perfect.

In that scene I could really feel Anne Rice’s original purpose for writing the book. It was about processing grief for a child. And I think both Anne and her daughter felt really present in that scene because of it. It was just so perfectly done.

I loved Louis’s final scene, where he’s incorporated Paul and Claudia and the color yellow into the penthouse. He’s still friends with Daniel, he’s content in himself, and he sends this invitation to all the vampires who are talking about him. Maybe it’s an invitation to fight. As Jacob says, Louis always needs that friction, that fight in his life. But I think in someways it might be a step towards community for him. He presents his house as always being open, as being a safe place for vampires to hide from the sun. And how impactful would it be, if “I never join anything Louis” could suddenly become a kind of host of the vampire community? What a sign of healing that would be. I mean I’m sure it would be full of drama and he would have his hands full managing it, but the man likes drama. So I think it could work.

I’m so glad we were able to finish out Louis’s arc so definitively, and leave him and Lestat in a place where they can further reconcile, and Louis can be a part of Lestat’s rock arc in season 3.

[sherl-grey]

dangerous words I fear but I’m craving some OFMD critical but civil discourse… s2 finale spoilers included below the cut. this is incredibly long FYI bc I’m truly desperate to get all my thoughts out

I want to preface by saying I loved S2. I think I loved it more than s1, I think there were some absolute GENIUS moments this season (the entire Calypso episode was *chef’s kiss* my favorite), and I think the cast, crew, and DJ deserve a lot of love and, of course, a renewal for another season.

I know there’s been a lot of anti-finale-critiquing posts out there (and yeah, I also don’t want to see baseless hate or, god forbid, people trying to interact with the cast/crew with anything less than love and respect) but personally, I think the biggest sign that I love a show is me wanting to pick it apart. I think digging into the writing and decision-making and characters of a show means you really appreciate the choices that were made even if you don’t agree with them, because you’re working to understand the story on a level most people only dive to if they’re forced to in an English class. No story is going to be perfect. No story is going to be written specifically for me unless it’s literally by me. But sometimes I still want to study it like a bug under a microscope, you know?

So here we go: I didn’t like the finale, and I didn’t think it fit very well with the rest of the season/show. Weirdly enough I didn’t feel a need to discuss online until I started reading the interviews DJ has been giving about the finale (specifically the choice to kill Izzy and Ed/Stede’s ending) and I’m so curious as to whether others interpreted things the same way. (Yes, they’re DJ’s characters. No, I don’t think all viewers are obligated to interpret things the same way as writers did—that’s half the beauty of storytelling and media consumption.)

Izzy’s Death

Let’s unpack the big one first. I think a lot of what DJ/finale defenders (if I may respectfully call fans who enjoyed s2e8 that) have mentioned is that Izzy’s arc was over and he’d served his narrative purpose. I’ve got a few different issues with this:

1. Part of what I love(d?) about this show is that I did not think this was a show that kills characters once they’ve served their narrative purpose, or a show that kills characters as punishment/retribution for mistakes/earlier actions. To me, OFMD symbolizes the idea that everyone is deserving of love, forgiveness, and second chances. I truly trusted that no one on the Revenge crew would die in this show, and to be proven wrong was a bit disheartening, to say the least. Will talk more on the suicide notion in the next bit because I think it was symbolic, but Izzy also now represents a suicidal character who finds the will to live again. I’d argue that a “full arc” for a character like that should be ending in happiness, not death (and especially not with a line like “I want to go” or whatever the specific words were).

2. DJ seems to describe Izzy’s role as being a mentor to Blackbeard, which I personally struggle to see at all. Despite the Captain/First Mate status difference, I think most signs have pointed towards them being roughly equals—the unrequited love Izzy feels for Ed, the way the two of them stand right up to each other when everyone else would be afraid to, the clear shared history and longevity of their friendship/companionship. (If anything, I’d argue Izzy takes on the mentor mantle for Stede in s2, though it’s a bit glossed over because of how crunched for time everything was.) I certainly have trouble seeing the “father figure” relationship that DJ mentions in interviews, because I think Izzy is the one crew member that puts himself on even ground with his captains.

But even humoring that, Ed’s story has been about shedding Blackbeard. And DJ has a great quote in the Entertainment Weekly interview where he says that Izzy and Ed are both Blackbeard, that the two of them together are what makes Blackbeard “happen.” So in theory, if we’re killing Izzy off to further Ed’s storyline, it’s to ultimately kill Blackbeard, right? Especially since his line at the end is to “just be Ed.”

Except we already have metaphorically killed Blackbeard, several times. I think S2E3 is a really interesting episode because in season 1, it can be argued (and is, by Chauncey Badminton) that Stede kills Blackbeard in his own pirate-y way—with kindness. The crew is also somewhat a part of this, as they all accept and love Ed for who he is and not only because he’s Blackbeard; the crew follows the example of their captain and it changes who Ed is as a person. S2E3 is a crew under Blackbeard, and they also kill Blackbeard following the method of their current captain—violence. And this “death” is, in my mind, the death of Blackbeard while Stede symbolically saves the part of him that is just Ed. (Bonus: we also get Ed trying to sink his leathers, and while it might just be because he’s on a damn boat, it’s interesting that Blackbeard’s clothes are drowned/sunk while Ed’s metaphorical comeback was being saved from drowning by Mer!Stede.)

So Ed’s half of Blackbeard is dead. If we stand by DJ’s idea that Blackbeard is half Izzy, we’ve still got half of Blackbeard left, right? Well, that would’ve been right immediately post-S1, but then they gave Izzy a beautiful arc that seems to be a shadow of Ed’s S1 track. Ed and Izzy are very similar characters, but in S1 Ed is on the receiving end of love, acceptance, and admiration—namely from Stede, but also from the crew. Meanwhile, Izzy is subject to contempt and hostility… once again, namely from Stede, and also from the crew. Ed blossoms under the love during S1 until that’s taken away; Izzy simply moves in the reverse direction. He continues to be an antagonist while being treated like one, but once others start treating him with kindness (Fang hugging him, Jim and Archie amputating his leg while Frenchie lies for him, the whole crew making him the unicorn leg), he too becomes a part of the family. And wouldn’t you know it—Izzy has a near death scene as well, a suicide no less. Izzy is the one who is responsible in S1 for “bringing back Blackbeard,” so the symbolism of him pulling the trigger on himself is huge. This is Izzy killing his half of Blackbeard! Because Izzy Hands continues to live, even if it takes him some time to remember how to live without Blackbeard at first, and his relationship with Ed effectively dies here.

(As a side note, this growth arc and the way Izzy fully transforms into a member of the Revenge crew afterwards—whittling Lucius a shark and talking to him about forgiveness, dressing up in drag and singing to the crew, cracking silly jokes about Ed and Stede’s relationship—are also why I find the “Izzy Hands is the symbol of traditional piracy and his death is symbolic of traditional piracy dying” argument to be weak. In season 1, he was that definition, but we’ve literally watched him grow out of it. He’s no longer symbolic of something stagnant that will remain the same or be destroyed—he’s symbolic of something that grows and adapts to the new situations, that survives when all of the rules change on him.)

And then we have the return of Blackbeard: Pop-Pop pushing Ed to go back to doing “what he’s good at,” Ed fishing his leathers out of the ocean, Ed killing a ton of people because he thinks Stede is likely dead or at minimum in captivity/grave danger. This bit seems to go against everything the season was building towards; Blackbeard was almost entirely gone, but Ed is now the one who brings him back because he thinks Blackbeard is the one who can save Stede. And that’s fair, but what does that have to do with Izzy at this point? Why does he need to die for Ed to put that part of him away again? While we’re not owed a main character having a death that serves a narrative purpose, I’d hope for that to be the case, and I struggle to interpret what happens to Izzy as beneficial to either plot or character.

3. I think the actual core arcs of the show are character arcs and not plots. I get that they might’ve been trying to wrap plots with Zheng and the British in case they aren’t renewed, but I don’t think it was necessary—the pirating has always been secondary to the rom com and the found family, IMO. In S1, we had two main characters, but I’d argue Izzy got enough focus and attention to be a third this season. Which left us with a great character-driven story: we’re watching all 3 of them come into their own and discover who they are individually, while also discovering that the changes in themselves are causing friction between them now that they’re growing into new people. Which is an amazing story to tell, if you ask me, but the fulfillment of that story requires all three characters to be there. The conflict to be resolved is how these characters can become the people they want to be and still coexist together, because on some level they’re family now. Notably each pair combination of these characters grows together or apart (or in Stede/Ed’s case, both) during this season. Ed and Izzy are growing apart because they hold each other back from becoming the person they want/need to be; to complete this narratively, I would’ve expected the next challenge to be finding a way to become friends again as their new selves while letting go of the fact that they used to have a toxic relationship when they used to be different people.

Ed and Stede’s S2 Ending

So Izzy’s death is the big talking point, but I also think DJ’s take on Ed and Stede was interesting. He said that they deserved a happy ending for the work they put in this season. I agree with him in theory, but I’m curious as to whether others agree that they put in a lot of work. I think Stede followed through with his goal to come back and tell Ed how he feels, and to stay instead of running away from his problems. I think Ed followed through with trying to understand who he is and what his needs are while also trying to find the courage to open himself up to love again. But critically, they never talk. E7 makes a point to highlight the miscommunication/lack of communication between them, and then in E8 they still aren’t shown talking.

(I realize part of the issue is the limited amount of time and the amount of plot shoved into episode 8. I get it; personally, I think the plot should’ve been sacrificed for the characters. At this point, we were 7 episodes into a very character/relationship-heavy season. Plot could’ve waited for a potential S3.)

What’s more—there’s a huge, glaring gap between where they left off and where they end up. Ed left in S2E7 after he begins panicking and realizing Stede is becoming deeper entrenched in pirate life just as he’s finally finding his way out of it. Not once do they talk about this, but suddenly they’re retiring together? And right after Ed says Izzy was his only family and Izzy calls the crew his family (which… is also an unearned line, as Ed and the crew have almost no bonding or forgiveness this season, since we focused mainly on Izzy with the crew and Ed with Stede), they leave the crew to do their own thing? They’re all relatively minor things that could be fairly easily addressed by dialogue, but they fact that they’re not only serves to underscore the way that Ed and Stede really aren’t on the same page.

I want them to get their happy ending. They deserve it. I’m just not sure that I agree that they earned it to the degree that it was received, with retirement alone together without their crew, if that makes sense.

Positivity Tax: Calypso Love 😊

I’ve probably got more to say but those were the big ones on my mind after reading the Vanity Fair and Entertainment Weekly interviews. Just to counterbalance some of the more critical things I’ve said, I wanted to share some loving analysis of the Calypso episode:

1. It’s a minor thing, but the way this episode shows that Ed’s actions as Blackbeard had consequences is amazing. Despite him arguably committing the more grievous wrongs in S1, he’s the one we get the least redemption for in this season (his apology to the crew wasn’t great, and most of his screen time is spent repairing his relationship with Stede), so for him to have to face something that happened because of his past actions is cool, especially because it was done in a way that doesn’t further damage his standing with the crew.

2. The way Stede saves the day is incredible. Competent Stede this season has been an absolute joy to watch, and his success in this episode is twofold: first he wins his way, with signature Gentleman Pirate flair. He listens to Ned’s crew, helps facilitate communication between them, and encourages them to stand up for themselves and demand better treatment. That’s a very classic Stede win. But then he wins in the traditional pirate way, and it’s absolutely glorious; he’s been working towards becoming a better pirate, both in terms of stomaching violence and building up the necessary skills. Ned’s crew can be taken down with kindness, but Ned himself is a pirate and will only be matched by another. I genuinely cannot think of a more perfect way to show that Stede is still himself while also showcasing the newer side of him that he’s been working towards this whole time.

3. Speaking of that newer side of him, the way this episode starts to open up Ed’s insecurities? The combination of seeing his least favorite parts of himself reflected in Stede as well as watching Stede grow into the career that he’s trying to leave? Amazing conflict development.

4. I’ve already talked so much about Izzy but the way this truly caps off the crew’s acceptance of him as part of the family is gorgeous. He’s an entirely new man at this point and there’s no jokes made, no friendly ribbing… just love and acceptance. It highlights both his newfound comfort and familiarity with the others as well as the extent to which they care about him.

5. Less analytical, but it’s also just a really pretty episode.

Considering the fact that I have zero OFMD mutuals and this was a whole essay (I’m on mobile and can’t see how long this is but I’m honestly scared), I would be shocked if someone made it down this far, but if somehow people are here and open to civil discussion… I’d love to know how you felt about this, if you thought DJ was right, if you were a little more on my wavelength and thinking things weren’t adding up, etc. Realistically I’m not sure if anything could change my mind as I’ve done a lot of stewing, particularly about Izzy arc, but new perspectives are always refreshing. Much love to the fandom and of course the creators, who hopefully never see this and get their s3 renewal 🤞🏼

[hellhouse-of-horrors]

I love your different inputs and opinions on different things Yellowjackets, so I thought who better to ask !

What are some of your more crazy/wild theories on s3 ? ( if you have any)

could be anything like the symbols meaning, antler queen, what will happen, ect ect)

omg thank you so much anon, you’re so sweet!! xx 

this is gonna be a long one so rambling below rhe cut

alright so, here is something that I don’t think i’ve spoken about publicly on my blog before. It’s definitely one of my wilder theories but I’m kinda hyped about it so thanks for giving me the opportunity to hop up on my soapbox and ramble a bit!

i think that tai and van are going to kill one another and die together. 

hang on wait wait wait lemme explain this !

So I definitely think that tai — in her subconscious fugue state — is going to hurt van. we’ve seen this happen indirectly in s1 with the wolves and directly in s2 in the cabin (when tai bites van), and i think it’s going to resurface in the adult timeline in s3. also keep in mind tai has been shown sacrificing the dog so she is definitely capable of performing large-scale gruesome acts in her fugue state without realizing it. however it just doesn’t seem likely that it would stop with the dog and when it comes to media and entertainment and the concept of building up to a climax, the reasonable final step would be… can you guess… a human, yes, very good!

in the trailer we see tai and van; van caresses tai’s cheek as they kiss, yet tai has a distinctly distant look on her face. i think that she’s not there. i think that scene, or one similar to it, escalates and “other” tai bites, scratches, grabs or otherwise endangers van. (i will interject here and say that as someone who is very sensitive to sexual violence in media, if this does happen i hope that it doesn’t have any sort of sexual undertone; however as we saw in s2 with tai biting van, and later adult tai kissing van, sexuality would likely be involved)

anyways i don’t think this immediately results in either character’s life being threatened, but i think it happens again. specifically i think that “other tai” is going to try to cannibalize or sacrifice van; i think van will end up mortally wounded and, in self defence, will kill tai. i think they die together, holding each other, the culmination of three seasons of a dynamic that blurs the line between violence and romance. first the wolves in s1, then the fugue scenes in s2, and finally their death in s3. 

alternatively maybe tai just kills van, which would still be very interesting because she would be left with the guilt knowing that, despite not being in control of herself, she still killed the woman she, in some way, loved. however i think this would be a slightly less poetic ending to their arc together.

as a bonus, since you mentioned the symbol - I don’t feel like I agree with any of the theories i’ve personally seen so far posted about the symbol, and I definitely don’t think it means protection - i think it’s some sort of descriptive symbol or even a warning sign. I also think that when you look at it with the circle in the top left corner (the same rotation that it is shown with when carved into trees if that makes sense) it looks kinda like a person drowning or falling into water? although I feel that’s probably coincidental because I don’t see how that would tie in at all with the story or the environment. I do think it’s something that “cabin guy” left behind though i’m unsure what - perhaps a map of his own creation? while I don’t think it’s a miner’s map, I wonder if the long line could represent the plane’s runway, the circle the cabin; however i’m uncertain on this one well as it feels unstable. Overall I have many thoughts on the symbol so I have trouble putting them together into one cohesive theory!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

With the release of Part 3 of Chapter 7, I wonder what the Shroud parents look like under their badass masks?

There’s been so much fan art of what Mama and Papa Shroud potentially look like under those helmets 😭 It’s been such a treat seeing different artists’ interpretations!!

I think, at the very least, Papa Shroud would have to resemble his sons. As director of STYX, he’s the one bearing the Shroud family blood (as was his own mother/Idia and Ortho’s grandmother). So that means shark teeth, pale as death skin, yellow eyes (maybe looking miserable or emotionless) 😂, and fiery blue hair (duh). I also headcanon that his hair must be pretty short since we don’t see excess fire spurting out from the helmet. Plus, short hair is just more practical in a lab/research setting! Papa Shroud presents as outwardly more pragmatic than his wife so this makes sense to me.

Because I’m assuming that Mama Shroud married into the family, we don’t really know what she could look like. All we could guess is that she doesn’t have the blue fire hair (because that’s a trait specifically associated with specifically the Shroud bloodline). One funny joke I’ve seen circulating (in spite of the wide variance of Mama Shroud designs) is making her really cute and innocent, with some depictions being full-on magical girls! This is a reference to both her cheery and loving nature as well as to Mama Shroud’s VA, who also does Sakura Kinomoto (from Cardcaptor Sakura~)

Oh!! You know what?? It’s possible that the VAs for the Shroud parents have actually seen what their characters look like without the helmets!! We have heard from other TWST VAs that they were given sneak previews to different forms of the characters they play (ie old Vil, past Lilia with the long ponytail) to help the VAs get a better sense for how to portray those characters. Just seeing a helmet doesn’t much help with determining what kind of voice to give to Papa and Mama Shroud so… 👀 I feel like the possibility of the VAs having secret knowledge (they obviously can’t share because of nondisclosure agreements they sign) is definitely a possibility!!!

Every time I see a post making a joke about how Papa Shroud must be an otaku that’s into moe characters or he’s trying to convince his mom to let him marry a woman that acts totally different than he does… It’s funny considering Papa Shroud is described as being really pessimistic and depressing to be around, I wouldn’t have expected it of him 😂 (I’ve also really been loving the grown up RSA!Ortho fan arts 😭)

[k1ranishf4]

My Lawyer Dio AU

I just want to clarify that I looked the characters up and researched if their birthdays were established. I’m keeping the canon ones and just made up some for those who don’t have a specified birthday.

We all know that Dio finished law school by the time he was 20 or 21 years old and 120/121 by the time Giorno was four. So I’ll just take this and move everything to the “modern” time.

Which basically means that Jonathan and Dio were born in 1967/68 instead of 1867/68.

But first of all, I’d like to specify that Stands still exist and Jonathan has his wonderful Hermit Purple but with roses. I’ll come up with a name later, I guess.

Also, since Jonathan is very much alive, Dio has his own body and is therefore still his canon height (185cm/6 ft 1 in)

To elaborate further:

Jonathan was born on April 4, 1968

He was 20 in Part 1, so I’ll just keep that in this AU as well. Only difference is that it’s 1989.

Now, I like to think that Dio’s older despite coming to the family later, which is really funny. Like, imagine you’re an only child until one day your father adopts a boy who’s like a year older than you and you end up having an older brother who’s the total opposite of you.

Since there’s no specific birthday, I’ll just make something up. Sooo… Dio: January 2, 1967

Obviously, this is also mudad, so I’m keeping his sons’ canon birth dates. But this also brings a few issues, if you will.

Giorno was born on April 16, 1985, which means that Dio was 18 when our Disney Princess was born.

He’s canonically a manwhore and I don’t intend on changing that anytime soon. He simply fucked around a lot in his last year of high school and the entirety of law school and ended impregnating four women.

I’ve checked and there aren’t canon birthdays for the other three, as well. All we know are their birth years. More to come up with for me.

Donatello: March 12, 1987

The thing is, despite being born in the same year, I like the thought of Rikiel being a few months older than Ungalo even tho he’s the local crybaby at home.

Rikiel: February 25, 1988

Ungalo: September 10, 1988

Now, Dio’s not the only one with children and I want to include George II and Erina too. George II’s canon birth year is 1889, so I’ll keep that as well but it’ll mean that Giorno, Donatello, Rikiel and Ungalo are older than him.

Since he doesn’t have a specific birthday, I’ll just add nine months to Jonathan’s canon date of death, which is February 7, 1889.

George II: November 11, 1989

Guess what, Erina also doesn’t have a specified birthday!! We only know that it’s some time in 1869. Hmmmmmm…..

I want her birthday to be in June, to be honest.

Erina: June 26, 1969

Let’s not forget the grandpa, of course. The only thing I’ve found out is that he died in 1888. I want him to be 45, which would mean that he’d be born in 1843.

So, we’ll just take that and move it to the 20th century and we get May 16, 1943.

To summarize:

George I: May 16, 1943

Jonathan: April 4, 1968

Dio: January 2, 1967

Erina: June 26, 1969

Giorno: April 16, 1985

Donatello: March 12, 1987

Rikiel: February 25, 1988

Ungalo: September 10, 1988

George II: November 12, 1989

Let’s get to how our local hoe finds out about his sons. As I’ve already mentioned, Dio was 18 when Giorno was born but he didn’t know and obviously didn’t get custody right then.

It went like this:

Homeboy was sitting in his study in the year 1990 and was going over the most recent case, when one of the butlers came in and delivered a letter.

It was signed by all four of his past flings and it said that all four of them had a son each. They gave him a location to meet ‘cause neither of them really wanted the custody of them. At first, Dio thought that it might be a lie to get money since he’s the adopted son of a famous aristocrat but he also believed that it might be true.

Jonathan found out, because of course he did, and immediately sent a butler to get the car ready so that Dio could go. Dio didn’t have another choice but to do so, since his lovely brother just had to get involved.

Turns out the letter was honest to God and Dio came back with a five-year-old who had pitch black hair, a three-year-old with brown hair and two one-year-olds in his arms, one of which had dark skin and black hair with hot pink highlights styled into locs and the other with unusual pistachio green hair.

Welp, at least George II wouldn’t have to grow up alone🤷 anyway-

George I was delighted to have even more grandsons but he didn’t exactly approve of Dio being a manwhore, since that’s the opposite of how he raised his sons to be.

I want to include D’Arby and Vanilla Ice (as well as Hol Horse and maybe a few others of the Agents of DIO) as Dio’s personal butlers because it’s fun to imagine his sons judging them because of their fanatical loyalty to Dio, but I’m not sure how.

I’ll probably make him move into a different manor maybe four years later, where he has his own (canon) butlers/servants, whatever you want to call them. But I’ll obviously let them stay in England, a grandpa and an uncle want to see the kids, okay?

Dio still has his shithead asshole personality but he doesn’t go as far as wanting to kill his adoptive family and trying to claim the inheritance via vampirism, to the point where he literally wants to achieve heaven.

Nah, this man cares for them but is extremely bad at showing it, even though Jonathan and George know. Jonathan always knows. Dio had to learn the hard way that he can’t hide shit from his brother.

He has a good relationship with Erina, they constantly make fun of each other and hey, would you look at that! He didn’t forcefully kiss her when they were twelve!! She can kick ass and he acknowledges and respects that.

Coming back to the Stands, Dio noticed that The World is very useful with four rat children who can do nothing but cause chaos and misery for him. Especially when one or all of them decide that running into traffic is how they want to spend their evening.

I’m not exactly sure but I think it’s established in canon that Giorno is the only one who’s a born Stand User. I’ll change that in this AU and make his brothers born Stand User as well.

The years pass, blablabla, Giorno still takes over the Italian Mafia because he can and gets rich even tho he already is and his brothers still don’t know what to do when they’re adults.

But! They find out their older brother has started dating some dude (“his name’s Hugo or something.” “are you stupid, it’s Fugo” “Gugo, like I said.”) and they spy on them when they’re out on a date.

Dio doesn’t exactly care if or whom his sons date, or which gender that person has since he’s a bisexual slut who keeps sleeping around, but he’ll make sure that neither of the four are taken advantage of and checks their partners’ backgrounds and lifestyles behind their backs.

Now, adding the fact that he’s a slut to his career as a lawyer: he wins every case.

Reason number one: he’s beautiful

Reason number two: he’s charismatic

Reason number three: he’s manipulative

Reason number four: he’s cunning

Reason number five: he’s convincing

Reason number six: he sleeps with the judge when his client is actually guilty

One of his sons: are you ever gonna give us a stepmother or stepfather?

Dio, planning his next one-night-stand: step-what?

He reluctantly leaves his sons in the care of his obnoxious brother when he has to go somewhere for work-related purposes. He’d rather die, though. (When they were children, at least. When they were 15/13/12/12, he began leaving them at home in hopes of finding it still in one piece later)

It’s basically a huge mess with a lot of chaos and misuse of some Stands (“didn’t I tell you two to stop using your Stands in the mansion?” “Ungalo started it.” “LIAR! Donatello started it.”) but it’s also fun and Dio wouldn’t trade it for anything.

He promised himself to never stoop down to the level of his piece of shit birth father, and he’s keeping that promise.

Oh yeah, he still poisons Dario before being adopted by George I. Normal, am I right?

[purelillies]

leshy! ( or deathcards and you! )

or a strange analyzation on leshy, and his deathcards.

this is another long post, just so you’re warning, but leshy! i’m extremely fond of him. maybe it’s all the time i’ve spent, embarrassingly, in kaycee’s mod, but i adore his character. but i can’t help but keep thinking about act one, especially after i fucked up my runs and didn’t know story events depending on deaths, and not runs. my bad.

( another fair warning: this is going to be me, as usual, over-analyzing dialogue for a total of maybe two people and myself, and whoever else is still clinging to this game like i am. )

but what i’m referring to is his attitude towards the player. inscryption is an odd one, considering we have luke carder as a player but it’s also acknowledged in kaycee’s mod that we, us, myself and whoever reading, are also the player.

leshy sounds, for lack of a better word, soft at the start of inscryption. i know that sounds odd, but i see it in how he talks to the player. behold, act one dialogue!

“ fear not “ implies that he thought you’d be worried, though, seeing from your deck and how the game is progressing, you probably have already figured that your cards don’t leave you deck anyway. he’s still telling you though. even for a tutorial, he tries to be more forgiving than he really needs to be for the player. but that’s not what’s majorly differently.

deathcards! yeah, i’m talking about them again, and they’ll take a major focal point, since i think they’re some of the most telling details about leshy.

i find it interesting that he specifically uses favor, when you don’t really have a choice when it comes down to it, and the entirety of the next sentence. yes, in hindsight, deathcards are only a creation he made, but he doesn’t need to continue to make them whatsoever. it shows that it’s his choice to create them, to put a memory and use to you outside of this isolated run.

and the use of “ we. “ he even says as such, that it’s you and leshy working together to create it, rather than leshy deciding the entirety of it for you, which he has done ( assuming from the scrybes since we don’t know much about how he took over inscryption ) and could do again. 

but, as resets go by, especially if you win against him instead of dying, he starts to become . . . more aggressive. it’s noticeable in his endgame dialogue, which i don’t have on hand, but as you best him over and over without progressing, he starts to grow frustrated with you. he gets angry when you refuse to eat ( even though we can’t, but still, it’s much more straightforward upset than ever before ) he seems more disheartened when you destroy the moon, but what i find most revealing is the deathcards. 

leshy says himself that to live as a beast is the most honorable fate he can see, both in act two and as he admits after winning against him without progressing, and how he doesn’t mean for the scrybes to feel trapped to this fate. of course, it’s completely reasonable they would—they’re contained in cards, and were put into them by force—but to leshy, this is the highest fate he could give them, a place on his board, to serve as a beast. he also does this to kaycee through a deathcard, and we can see from entries in kaycee’s mod that him and her became good friends. these deathcards are, inadvertently, a sign of respect to him. 

even if you fail, even if you trip flat on your face, leshy still finds it worth to immortalize you because you tried, and at least if you look through the awareness of the player’s eyes, knowing the challenger is the same person, it makes the finale that much more satisfying. when you initially fail to him, that’s what he feels—a sense of respect because not only are you the first challenger that he’s seen in who knows how long, but you tried, and that’s valuable. 

after you dying, you can choose, though from a limited selection, what stats you have, your sigils, your cost, your name. and then, you’ll be a card people can pick from forever. for as long as the copy of the game exists, people can see your card and know your name. you’re a beast, now. you’ve achieved the highest status he can give you. 

and then, look at the card you’re given if you win. it’s plain. you can’t chose your stats. sure, you’re a rare card, but you’re only asked your name. and if you look to the door, you can see that you can’t even read your name. i thought, initially, the number one medal would go up depending on how many times you have beaten him prior—like a counter of when you won—but, no. it stays. it’s the exact same for each deathcard. you won, but it’s a sour fate to him, and reflects his feelings to you. you can’t be used. no one can even see your name, just that you won, and what happens to people who win. 

with the dialogue you get during the deletion, if you chose him and still chose him for the final duel, along with just the heart-ripping “ please, we don’t need to keep score “ makes me feel as though he’s gained respect for the player, and genuinely had a great time playing his version of inscryption with you and trying to make you live. trying to give you a life and enjoyment even if he’s limited in the power he truly had to show you that. he values you as a person, as a challenger, and as a player in general, just as he values the scrybes. 

i wish the scrybes saw that, too, that leshy’s respect for them is reflected in the way that he still made them cards even if they were hidden, that they’re still playable when he could’ve degraded them to much worse. it doesn’t make their fate better, and it doesn’t make what he did better, either, but it’d be nice to know that he still cares, despite what he’s done. 

i just like how his respect and emotions towards you as the challenger are reflected through deathcards, and the fact he values them so much that his signature ambience track is literally called “ deathcard cabin. “ 

and, as an off note, since i wanted to say this too but didn’t want to break the odd flow, he reveals more about himself the more you win, after you win, without progressing. i’m not sure why? you could take it as caving in, or emotions, but i find it interesting as well. 

so yeah. dnd with a tree. 

[ablizmal]

I JUST FIGURED IT OUT. the parallels and juxtaposition between the pairs of light+misa vs L+juliette.

something i see heavily in both light and misa —one of the only things they have in common, you could say— is that they both adhere to societal expectations. like… to an excessive extent. you know? they both cling onto it for a semblance of normalcy, to capture that feeling of “i belong, i belong, i belong.”

it’s their crutch. in a life full of alienation (for light, not finding meaning in anything, for misa, the immense loneliness and lack of a social life), at the very least they can have this. although they experience alienation, at least they’re not experiencing total isolation— or worse, ostracization, being disapproved of by others.

(that last sentence would be such an eye opening sentence for someone to analyze if english isn’t their first language… /positive)

getting back on topic, light is a VERY repressed person. in the fucking cherry cola universe (aka death note including my s/i), he’s gay but is so deep in the closet he’s not even AWARE he’s in a closet, it’s all he’s ever known.

besides this (or maybe alongside it???), he’s flamboyant. he really, really is, but in canon, we don’t get to see this as much, which i interpret being due to light adhering to everyone’s expectations of him. idk if this specific facet of toxic gender roles is also prevalent in japan, but i can see light, at a certain age (somewhere from 10-12 years old), noticing adults discomfort at his theatrics and stopping immediately. (he’s kind of a daddy’s boy tbh…)

misa, too, is repressed. you KNOW she would love stuff like horror movies, gothic bands, screamo, metal, and the likes, but she doesn’t. the only interests she has that we’re aware of in canon is the occult and fashion. this is for sure due to the writer of death note’s inherent misogyny in every female character he writes, but if you employ some ingenuity (like me (⟡⸝⸝U_U) *ੈ ‧₊˚ .), you can view misa’s lack of characterization as a foreboding sign that misa isn’t okay.

misa doesn’t have any friends. we know this.

her modeling coworkers aside, the only friend we hear misa talk about is her occult friend, and she never mentions her again past the video tape arc. (yeah, that’s what i’ll call misa’s introduction chapters. why not? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

this coupled with her parents being murdered… misa is desperate for any sort of approval from others. i mean think about it— outside of her modeling career, she doesn’t interact with anyone! she has a room full of personal items (plushes, posters, furniture, etc), which can be completely normal, but for the sake of my headcanons, has accumulated so much from her spending loads of time by herself, in her house, alone. this is the main setting she’s in. of COURSE she’s gonna get bored with the minimalism of it and add her own personal touches!

one of the few forms of self expression she allows herself to have is her fashion, but there’s a well known subculture for that fashion in japan (harajuku, but i’m pretty sure misa’s is gothic harajuku specifically). so, to sum it up— misa has a group of people who understand her fashion sense, therefore she belongs somewhere.

(note: i am NOT insinuating that misa only wears gothic fashion to fit in somewhere. that’s a stupid af take and it just doesn’t fit misa’s vibes to be perfectly honest. what i am saying, however, is that misa freely expresses her unconventional fashion sense because she knows there are others like her. that’s all. (this is likely one of the only unconventional groups of people she’s knowledgeable about.))

i’d even say that misa is highly intelligent, given how she gathered credible evidence that higuchi is the new kira in the yotsuba arc, but she intentionally hides it. why, you ask?

because she knows she’ll be undermined by men, and she seeks approval over anything, she’s substituting it for human connection, so she just… tucks it away. (fuck, maybe she believes that her intellect will be undermined by everyone as a result of the murderer of her parents never being convicted despite her testimonies…)

there’s also a Whole Other Instance (slash personal interpretation) i could bring up here, but i’ll just make that its own post, because this one is already WAY longer than i ever thought it was gonna be.

and we’re only halfway there, boys…

touching upon the thesis of this now pseudo-essay, L and juliette are unconventional. and they don’t care lol.

it’s well known that L doesn’t give a particular shit about how he comes across to others. like the dude’s rich, he could buy whatever clothes he wants, but he chooses to wear his usual clothes because of sensory issues he wants to. his hair is messy and he doesn’t need to comb it because of how short it is, he sits in that gargoyle pose, and he doesn’t hold back on using his deferential vocabulary when the situation permits it.

before the kira case, he would solve cases from a dark room. sounds fine enough… until you hear that there is no furniture in this room and his PC setup is on the floor. 😭

L also is either unaware of social cues or doesn’t care about them, or doesn’t care enough to learn about them, leading to scenes such as:

or him dropping loaded comments like they aren’t as massive as they are.

he admits with no hesitance that he can be childish when it comes to competition. childish… he’s using an insulting word for what it is at its core— a word to describe certain attributes. (he is quite literally ignoring what the conventional intent of the word is.)

likewise, even around the taskforce, he persists in his typical demeanor, what with his stare that bores into your soul, or slunking around in public, hunched over, his appearance coming off as ghoulish with his pale skin and shadowed eyes. (i’m not saying this as a negative, btw, i love his haunting aura,,, 💗∀💗)

and juliette?? juliette embraces the unconventional with every fiber of her being. as long as she’s alive, she will always endorse the unconventional so long as it’s harmless (because what’s wrong with it if it’s not hurting anyone?). they hate the word “normal” being used for non-universal experiences. having a certain blood pressure is normal. there is no such thing as a “normal” hairstyle, that comes down to personal preference.

she LOATHES the enforcement of conformity. it pisses them off to the point that they go out of their way to be even MORE unconventional, as a way of telling closeminded’s, “fuck OFF, there is nothing wrong with us, with people like me, and if you do have a problem with me, then you can kiss my heels, cause they’re landing in your face anyways!”

when it won’t come with bullshit consequences (like being treated unfairly at their job for being open about her genderqueerness :/), she doesn’t bite their tongue. they speak their mind if they hear someone spewing the most terrible of things, whether covertly or not, which is what makes juliette the only person to come to heads with light time and time again. (let’s face it, light is the type of person to get away with saying microagressions, and since he believes he’s right, he drops them way too often. and no one SAYS anything about it because “no no, light does mean it like ~that!~ he’s so RESPECTFUL and KIND :(((((((((((”)

she isn’t afraid to express her joy and wonder, even at the smallest of things. they know they can be ridiculed and judged for it, but they also recognize the importance of small joys, and that significance outweighs ANY judgement that may be hurled her way.

that’s kind of juliette’s whole thing, actually. if anyone judges her for her unconventionality, she says “so? what are you gonna do about it? gonna go into my brain and rewrite everything about me? huh?” jdksjdksjdkajxjs, she can get VERY snarky about this, but they are proving a point, which is “BITCH, who asked?”

light: …you sure do have a unique laugh, juliette.¹

juliette: well, Boy Genius,² what’s a normal laugh then? huh? what is the typical pattern emerging from instinct which creates the phenomenon known as a laugh? present me with evidence. write me about all your findings, since you’re apparently so knowledgeable about this topic. (mockingly tilts head) it shouldn’t be so hard!~ (❀ ˶ ⁍̴̛ ◡ ⁍̴̛˶)

1) just one of light’s MANY casual insults that he can justify away due to plausible deniability.

2) yes, like jimmy neutron. (FUN FACT, i just found out by creating this exchange (and subsequently checking to see if juliette making this reference is possible in ~2003, given the manga’s timeline) that the jimmy neutron series first aired in 2002. i would’ve sworn from vibes alone that it started in 2007, but eh, “the more you know,” amiright??)

(how the fuck do i even get back on topic after that tonal shift)

to summarize,

light and misa are both people who care heavily about what other people think of them. they conform to what’s expected of them, even if that means closing themselves off from potential happiness.

whereas L and juliette are so authentic. okay, well, maybe L isn’t authentic around prime suspect, light yagami, but!! in all the time he’s known light, he still continued to eat sweets and only sweets, y’know?? if it won’t hinder him solving the kira case, L shows up as himself, odd quirks and all (🥰).

L and juliette have discovered the secrets of the universe, that secret being “i am cringe, but i am free.” (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

but it’s not so cut and dry as that, as they have varying degrees… no, different ways that this presents itself.

misa is more likely to be swayed if in the right environment (like how she had a friend who engaged in the occult).

L doesn’t care what others think about him. he is SO uncaring, in fact, that he doesn’t feel the need to explain his behavior.

but light and juliette… they’re in leagues of their own.

light has NO identity beyond what others expect of him. this is one of the reason why he’s depressed at the beginning of the series. he’s become everything everyone’s ever wanted— for his family, he’s the perfect son and brother. for his classmates, he’s the perfect student, the perfect friend, is TOTAL boyfriend material (apparently???¿? i can’t see it lmao).

yet it’s meaningless. everything that’s supposed to be fun, like spending time with friends, going out, karaoke, hobbies, playing games, sports, academics, dating… it’s meaningless to light. it’s too predictable, he’s too smart for it, really… so it’s not his fault. it’s not his fault it’s not entertaining to him! it just so happens that he’s better, and more intelligent, than everyone else.

to cope with his alienation, he shoves himself onto a pedestal, eventually diminishing and forgetting the whole point of such human activities. he spits in the face of humanity.

he’s above it all.

but juliette embraces human life. she loves the humans, and sees the inherent worth in the human experience! she condones recreational activities such as singing, dancing, playing, relaxing. they believe that our connections with others is what makes life worth it, even if it’s connections so complex and distant that you can’t even witness them (think of produce at your local supermarket. they wouldn’t be there if the farmers who grew them didn’t exist).

juliette supports self expression above all else, whether that’s through emotions, music, writing, art… any creative means, really! it’s also why she’s so vehement about presenting the way you want through fashion, or socially, through words (heyo, genderqueer nation (⌐ᗜᴗᗜ)).

i mean, this song is one of juliette’s anthems:

these beliefs run deep in their bones. she wouldn’t be the same person without them.

in this way, light is the antithesis to juliette. light is the one who lies about himself to others the most. juliette sticks true to themself as much as she can and HATES conformity SO much that she actively spites people who wish to enforce it.

which is why they are at each other’s throats (mostly) through words.

if misa is more easily swayed, then light stands firm in his need to be acceptable to others.

if L is quiet, but content, with his eccentricities, then juliette is loud and open about hers.

[zumwhy-plays-minecraft]

hiii i just read the second chapter of "the gold" and it was very good!!!! but im kinda confused about a name mentioned

so orpheus is wilbur, theseus is tommy, protesilaus is techno... who is euros? is it missa??? whether it is or not pls tell me why youve chosen that name for whoever it is since you have so kindly tempted me to

!!!!! YES!

Omg I didn’t think anybody would actually come talk to me about these buckle your fuckinh seatbelt Nonny cause I Have Thoughts And I Must Scream!

But first I should probably tell you that you are absolutely correct in all of your assumptions! Well done on matching the names to the people they belong to! Im going to take that as a sign that they sort of make sense!

Because that’s the case with the names, right? They make sense! Each name has a purpose and a very specific meaning and connotation attached to it.

Take Tommy / Theseus. Theseus is a mighty hero, the “greatest hero of Athens”, the one who united the warring African city states underneath his banner, a great hero by all accounts, only to be banished by those he considered friends, abandoned, and ultimately murdered. The storyline sounds a little familiar, right?

But the parallels don’t stop there! Techno / Protesilaus! Protesilaus is an unsung hero of the Iliad, the one who leads the way for all of the other warriors to step foot onto Trojan shores and make their mark.

And of course we have Philza / Zephyros, with our lovely Western Wind- the only one of the four winds to have a wife, commonly depicted with wings, associated with spring and this the color green… I hope you’re picking up what I’m putting down!

Because there are other associations that you can make, other patterns you can pick out, if you look! (Like, for example, you’ll notice that of the lovely lovely characters that we’re looking at that have been canonically given these Greek names, the ones that tend to get into the most trouble are the ones with the names of mortals, whereas the ones who are less inclined to be dragged into conflict have the names of gods… but I digress, as that’s probably more of just a funny coincidence and/or me misremembering what happened, and, you know, when Theseus is the one doing the dragging into conflicts, the data is a little biased but what am I saying this isn’t an actual interpretation/statement about anything- I’m making claims but I’m not married to them you know? Im just Having A Good Time, feel free to tell me if I’m Completely Wrong LMAO-)

So I essentially just took these patterns that were already starting to form, and expanded them! Techno and Tommy were given the names of Greek heroes who had similar themes, so Wilbur became Orpheus. Why Orpheus? You ask. Quite simple! A musician who changes the world with his words, a poet, if you will, who could cause even gods to pause to listen to him, who has a habit of attempting to meddle with the balance of life and death… you see where I’m going with this?

Then Philza, a god, has three mortal ‘sons’ (depending on what sort of interpretation you’re using but again I digress I digress for the sake of the fic they’re like biologically related but yanno whatever fiction is made to be interpreted!! Just have fun with it!!), but he is not the only one who’s got kiddos anymore, no sir!

Now for the Missa / Euros connection, you do have to stretch a bit, I openly admit it, especially since Euros is not a very well documented god At All. Euros is the East Wind, associated with autumn and sunrise, and generally (please feel free to take this with a grain of salt, I’m a first year classics minor I Barely Know What I’m Talking About Please Feel Free To Correct Me) regarded as one of the gentler of the four winds. But! If we look at Philza’s connection with Death (Mumza), and we say ‘hey, maybe that’s the reason he’s all birdlike, which is one of the major reasons he’s one of the winds’, and we look at Missa, there are two very big connections with Death that we find:

1. Mans is in a platonic polyamorous relationship with Death. Good for him! This is the like SUPER explicit connection

2. I mean he’s a skeleton. Or dressed like a skeleton. Also there’s the whole ‘angel’ thing. Death connection.

So. If we claim that Philza is a wind because of his connection with Death, and Missa is also connected with Death (and Phil), it only makes sense that Missa is also a wind, hence, Euros.

Now I could go into my whole idea about the place that Death/Mumza (and by extension, the names) has in the Connected SMP Universe in my head but that would take For Fucking Ever, so instead I will just thank you Profusely for letting me ramble on about these silly little guys, and leave you with Two Fun Facts!

1! I do have Greek names picked out for our lovely lovely kiddos, just for funsies.

2! I also have someone who I think would fit Boreas very very well, but as he’s not in the QSMP he won’t be showing up! (But I’d be down to hear ideas for other people y’all think would fit as our fourth and final wind! I’m just like. Collecting. Bird MCYTers. LMAO.)

[another-dr-another]

ok hold on tomori, let’s use monofile 03-1 against {We know what her cause of death was,}, because unfortunately we do not!! and honestly, i still don’t know if the poisoned coffee could cause bleeding like that -iris

Maeda, narrating - …Oh my god. That’s it.

Maeda - If she died because she was poisoned, then why wouldn’t Monokuma just say that?

~*~

Maeda - Wait!

Maeda - …Are we sure we know what killed Iranami?

Maki - …

Maki - Coffee. Poison coffee.

Maki - The poisoned coffee, which burned the fuck out of your hand.

Maeda - Well- yeah! But-

Maeda - If she died because she was poisoned, wouldn’t the Monofile say that?

Uehara - Oh…

Maki - …We’ve already had this conversation.

Maki - If Ōtori hadn’t spilled the coffee on the floor, there would’ve been nothing to indicate that Iranami was poisoned.

Maki - It wasn’t immediately obvious what had killed her, so it wasn’t listed-

Maki - Besides “poisoned” is a lot vaguer than what the Monofile usually goes for.

Maki - Like how Mekaru died to asphyxiation, not stabbing.

Tomori - …In that case, couldn’t the Monofile have said blood loss, since that’s obvious? 

Maki - But maybe she didn’t die to the blood loss specifically, but like… organ failure due to the poison, instead.

Maeda - This is what I mean!

Maeda - There’s still things we’re uncertain about… if things could possibly fall through, we should take the time to discuss more.

Tomori - Alright.

Tomori - What was her cause of death then?

Maeda - That’s… a good question.

Kobashikawa - …

Kobashikawa - The only thing that makes sense would be poison.

Ōtori - …

Kobashikawa - …

Hatano - …We should stop acting like Ōtori has a chance at getting his name cleared.

Ōtori - …

Ōtori - Acting like you’re certain it was me is a bold choice.

Ōtori - If I were you, I’d be more concerned with making sure I had the right culprit- that I was actually finding the person who killed my friend, not just finding someone to pin the blame on, so I’d feel satisfied.

Hatano - …

//Hatano’s eyes widen- the anger in them is indescribable. Ōtori is… trying to act unbothered, but when Kobashikawa starts to write on his whiteboard, his expression shifts. 

Kobashikawa - …

//Maeda practically crumples under the withering look he gives Ōtori.

Kobashikawa - Are you seriously acting like you have any right to speak?

Ōtori - …

//Kobashikawa erases his whiteboard- pauses for a moment, then writes something else. When he looks up this time, the strongest thing his face shows is his exhaustion. No anger, no repulsion, and no wrath- nothing but finality.

Kobashikawa - Your dad would be so disappointed.

Ōtori - …

Ōtori - ………

Maeda - …

Ōtori - …Good thing he isn’t here, then.

Kobashikawa - …

//Both students look away.

Maeda - …Jesus christ, what is going on there?

Hatano - …

Tomori - …

Tsurugi - …So, where do you want to go from here?

Maki - …I thi-

Maeda, overlapping - …You need to stand to talk.

Maki - …

Tsurugi - …

Maeda - …

Maki - …Anyways, I don’t think there’s anywhere else we can really go with Iranami’s case-

Maki - If we need to, we’ll prosecute Ōtori for Iranami’s murder. Until then, we should discuss what happened to Higa, and see if we can find anything there that confirms what happened to Iranami.

Hatano - …

Maeda - I don’t think Hatano’s too happy right now… but it’s the best we can offer.

Maeda - Ultimately, as long as I managed to steer us back to Higa’s case, I’m hap-

Ōtori - Maeda’s burns!

Maeda - OH GOD DAMNIT ŌTORI-

Tomori - What about them?

Ōtori - It wasn’t me!

Ōtori - Holy shit- I didn’t kill Iranami!

Maeda - …Huh???

Ōtori - Fuck you! Definitive proof- even if your crazy conjecture was right!

Ōtori - Earlier- Earlier, when Kobashikawa was signing- he told me to confess!

Ōtori - As if I’m confessing to a murder I know I didn’t cause! 

Ōtori - Okay. Are you ready, Maeda?

Maeda - Huh? Why me?!

Ōtori - You suck, that’s why.

Maeda - Huh…

Rebuttal Showdown: START!

Truth Bullets:

Monokuma File #3-01 Iranami’s Body Iranami’s Bleeding

Ōtori - What happened when you touched the coffee, Maeda?

Ōtori - You got burned! It was a chemical burn, which, before treatment, was characterized by blotchy patches of inflammation and a burning sensation!

Ōtori - If it hadn’t been treated, the acid likely would have burned through your epidermis, at the least.

Ōtori - Tell me- did you see any sort of burning on Iranami?

Ōtori - And, what about what we did see on her!

Ōtori - Did you feel like your eyes were about to start bleeding?

Ōtori - Two entirely different substances!

BREAK!

Maeda - That’s… a painfully strong point-

Maeda - There’s no saying what the poison could’ve done if it’d been allowed to keep going!

Maeda - M-Maybe all it needed was to reach the blood stream!

Phase Two

Ōtori - Oh, please.

Ōtori - The inner and outer skin is functionally the same- even if we say Iranami drank the coffee without burning her lips, {it’s unreasonable to say the poison wouldn’t have impacted her the way it did you!}

Ōtori - I’ll commend you, you did well- it took me some time to see the fallacy in your logic, obvious as it may be.

Ōtori - Whatever happened last night, I wasn’t involved.

Ōtori - I didn’t suggest we go to the dining hall, so {I wouldn’t have been able to prepare any poison}...

Ōtori - {None of you have anything that implicates me…}

Ōtori - I have the truth on my side- Have I finally been able to prove that to you?

Ōtori - Or, do we need to debate some more on whether or not {we’re jumping to conclusions}?

~*~

Maeda, narrating …Ugh.

Maeda - I know Ōtori’s lying… he has to be.

Maeda - If I can’t catch him on something in the evidence, maybe I can find something in what he’s said? //Note: Remember when I said you can’t absorb statements you disagree with? Nonstop Debate specific. In Rebuttal Showdowns, text which seems contradictory will be colored in bold. Ōtori’s got some inconsistencies- use them to catch him in a lie! (Ultimately, it’s about telling a story… this post has narrative importance to show how argumentative Ōtori is… isn’t it fine if the minigame is a bit… bad?)

[ranvwoop]

Uhhh seren Vwoop and um um the other guys from your ocs !!

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

(Do however many you want live I sent a bunch)

Hi Adam. Thanks for the asks sorry it took seven years (Three months)

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Vwoop: Pals. Pal time. It would not really pick specifics it feels so strongly all of the time anything positive (and, atp, any nice time that they have with their friends that doesn’t involve mortal peril) is their best memories. Seren: Definitely travelling. For some reason stuck in my head is a little anecdote of them and protoVwoop reconvening after checking out a small civilization, and nagging pVwoop after it had purchased some sort of MCYT paraphernalia. What do you mean trading cards are an investment and would sell well in Hypixel, we don’t even go to Hypixel?? Hypixel coins are worthless?? And he does not win the argument. But he remembers them fondly.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Vwoop: A nonanswer but specifically because it is not saying anything. It can always get worse ( ; ω ; ). Seren: Before he’d settle down, they were an adventurer along with protoVwoop. He thought that he’d found a dungeon, but it was the home of a part-dragon guy who was hibernating there. He was not very happy to see them. Seren was convinced that dragon-guy was trying to kill him (and Vwoop), but he wasn’t a very good fighter. (He wasn’t – he was trying to prove a point). He got pretty badly hurt, and still has magic-wither-related issues due to the injuries. (And then meeting this guy ended up facilitating everything else that ever went wrong with the latter half of his life and the disappearance of both Vwoops. And then they became neighbours.)

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Vwoop: Complicated. If it thinks too much about it it feels bad :(. Seren: I don’t know if he actually has parents. He might’ve just spawned in one day. Mnecraft rules.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Vwoop: I have incredibly complex emotions about my little guy . It’s my littlest guy atm. Because I am a sap I have such dear memories of being silly with my friends through it and getting to figure out fun and interesting relationships with all of their little guys. It is like a friend to me. This is not a straight answer of what I like mechanically, which would probably be that it just an endearing little guy and pretty believable, I think? Most of its traits kind of connect to like, a bigger core trait that it has, which are pretty much being inexperienced at life, ruled by its emotions, and a love for people. It’s pretty solid and consistent and I think I do a not bad job writing for it :]. Seren: I FEEL BAD FOR HIM I PUT HIM IN THE TORTURE LABYRINTH… He’s a horrible parental figure because he genuinely did not sign up for this. He thinks he can game the system (he is the only one who knows what system he’s even talking about) and is terrified of losing himself to Mine Craft Mechanics. It doesn’t matter though, because he has to do a full backtrack of his whole life philosophy to try and do necromancy, which doesn’t even work, in part because the guy he’s trying to necromance isn’t even dead. He’s just created some kid. And he can’t even have that, ‘cause it decides its not having any of his over-protective, paranoid nonsense. 

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Looks directly into the camera. Too much. I don’t draw Seren enough but I draw Vwoop plenty.

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

I can’t actually kill off any of my little guys because I’m way too soft and get too attached. They can die in, like, instances of them like death games and whatnot I’m not sensitive to that, but in their main continuities they r here for ever and ever. However there’s an honourable mention to protoVwoop, who I think is in some sort of a limbo state wandering underground searching after cDay. I think it got slowly transformed into something of an (in)human sculk shrieker to xe’s Literally Becoming The Warden. Effectively dead! Subject to change for funsies (and because it’s determinant on what exactly happened to cDay, who is not my little guy to make decisions about). It has completely different sculk-related-rules to web2 I thiiink? but cVwoop would not be comfortable with this knowledge. For the record.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Considering phobias are like, specifically irrational, I don’t think so? They both are very afraid but they’re pretty rational fears, except maybe the fears they share about being used by higher powers. It’s more of a conspiracy theory for Seren, that servers are like, entities that are inherently confining and that if he isn’t careful he will Become a Roleplayer. Essentially. And I don’t think that Vwoop’s god-fear is like, severe enough to be a phobia. Most of Vwoop’s other fears are just reactions to the mortal peril. OH I THOUGHT OF ONE NVM. It has an irrational nervousness about people in Its Space if its not watching. This is waved if only if it trusts you enough. Other than this it Will start to fight you if you don’t get out. It has a whole Thing about breaking and entering. [<- thinks about its relationships in which it does not care. living with finch + just straight up having a shared storage / considering itself perpetually invited to cwl’s and just showing up + going OUR base with aem in a diff rp... :3.]

[link]

[saiilorstars]

Go the Distance

T’Challa x OFC / Citlalli’s masterlist

taglist: @ocappreciationtag​​​​​​​​ @arrthurpendragon​​​​​​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​​​​​ @stareyedplanet​​​​​​​ @gloryekaterina​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @foxesandmagic​​​​​​​ ​​​​​​

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Looking back at it, he regretted how things happened. The ire he felt for his father's death sent him over the edge. He didn't 'explode' like others, but he recognized (now) that he did have his moments.

"Agent Del Rio!" He called angrily after her. She was striding down the hallway, her back to him. "Agent Del Rio!" Eventually, he caught up to her and with one swift movement, he grabbed her by the arm and turned her around. "We need to speak  now !"

Citlalli Del Rio was anything if not pretty stoic with her expressions. It was a habit she picked up a very long time ago as a means of survival — literally. "Would you like to continue screaming in the hallway with other agents around?"

T'Challa was no fool. She was testing him and how far he would go to get what he wanted, even if it meant getting her into legal trouble. Could he?

Unable to answer himself, he pulled Citlalli into the first open room and shut the door with lock. "You pushed it today, Citlalli," he said immediately afterwards. "I know what you did."

Citlalli walked up to the conference table, drumming her hands on the top of a chair. "I do many things. Care to be specific?"

The ire grew stronger and T'Challa stalked up to her, once again turning her around. "You know what you did! You gave the weapons back. How could you help the people who cover up a murderer? A mass murderer, I will add."

Citlalli stoically looked at him and detached his hand from her arm. "You don't care that he was a mass murderer. You only care that he allegedly murdered your father."

"Allegedly?" T'Challa said incredulously. "He  did ! It is public knowledge that Sergeant Barnes was in the same city when the Accords were signed."

"Oh, you of all people know how technology can be used to persuade many people," Citlalli said, tilting her head to the side. Her dark eyes softened on him. "And it is much easier to convince someone who already wants to believe it."

In retrospect, T'Challa now knew that he had wanted to believe it very much. The news forced the idea that the Winter Soldier had blown up the site of the Accords and he, filled with ire and revenge, believed it without a second thought. It blinded him.

"Yes, I did help them," Citlalli said firmly, straightening herself up to take the full blame. Her open confession wounded T'Challa more than he had expected.

He got word from the Dora Milaje about suspicious sightings of Agent Del Rio and when they communicated the sudden loss of the confiscated weapons of Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, and the coinciding disappearance of Citlalli, he knew it was true. Still, knowing it and hearing it directly from Citlalli was different

"Why?" He was left to ask.

Citlalli heard the frailty in his voice, the betrayal. She subtly swallowed hard. "Because it's not as it seems. I grew up blinded by those who were supposed to all truthful and powerful. I have learned to look past all that shine. I see things factually and factually, things are not what the news says. I listened to Steve Rogers. I heard him."

"It's all lies, Citlalli," T'Challa argued, "Sergeant Barnes is his best friend! He would cover for Barnes!"

"Yes, perhaps in other things, yes. It is the nature of best friends," Citlalli agreed with him, "But in this—"

" No !" T'Challa snapped.

Citlalli lowered her head, drawing in a sigh. "You are not listening."

"I'm not listening?" T'Challa said incredulously. "I'm not listening!? You — you are not listening to me!" And it hurt him so deeply that the one person he trusted, the person he…

Citlalli raised her head again, meeting his eyes. It was like she could read his mind. "I do listen to you," she said quietly, but he scoffed, and hard. "I  do ," she reiterated.

He was blind and deaf, apparently. Looking back at things, T'Challa knew he should have listened to Citlalli more. He'd gone off on her after that, telling her how that had been the ultimate betrayal and that any kind of relationships they ever had were done. Granted, their relationship had always been professional but neither one would deny that there were moments where sometimes that line blurred.

He regretted it so much.

Citlalli never yelled back, never argued back, and most importantly never tried to convince him not to break things off. That hurt too.

Had she never cared for him at all? Had he imagined those close-call moments between them?

When he left that room, he left Citlalli for good. He wanted to be a man of his word, even if it hurt him like hell.

But when things turned and he discovered the truth about Baron Zemo, T'Challa had no choice but to admit his fault. Unfortunately, Citlalli was no longer available. When he reached out to Everett Ross about her, he was told that Agent Del Rio had abruptly turned her papers in and resigned from the CIA.

The shock had taken days to ware off and when it did, T'Challa felt the weight of the past come crashing down on him. He'd lost his father and now he may have just lost the love of his life (who didn't know she was the love of his life).

"You should have told her a long time ago!" Nakia all but smacked him. Not even his status as King of Wakanda would protect him from her fury. She shook her head at him, hands on her waist. "I cannot believe it took all this to happen for you to get this."

T'Challa felt like he should put his hands up in surrender. "It was always pretty clear that she and I were just friends." Nakia scoffed and because Okoye was also in the room standing guard, she did too. T'Challa rolled his eyed at the two. "I was not ever intending on ruining the job she loved. We were professionals."

"Fifty percent of the time, perhaps," Okoye muttered and Nakia pointed at her in agreement. "You two were so in love that neither of you saw how obvious it was."

"Idiots, that's why," Nakia said, "And now you went and lost her because of your rage."

"I don't need to know but I already know," T'Challa said with a huff. "If I am bothering with this embarrassment, it is because I thought you two would be more willing to help me find her."

Nakia exchanged a glance with Okoye. Yes, of course they would help.

It took a while to track Citlalli down. T'Challa learned bits and pieces of her the time they knew each other. She wasn't very forthcoming about herself but T'Challa knew that it wasn't just with him. She did not trust many people and even then those she did deem friends knew mundane things about her.

T'Challa knew that he was one of the few people who knew that Citlalli had been adopted. She came from a very troubled past and her roots lied in Mexico, not the States. T'Challa liked to think that he knew her most, and maybe that fact enabled those feelings to grow. He learned how as a child, Citlalli had to run from her old village because of invaders; he learned the trouble it took her to cross borders and how she almost died on several occasions. She had lost everything and still managed to climb up the ladder all over again.

An uncrowned princess turned agent turned vigilante.

Looking back at it, how could he not fall in love with her?fall in love with her?

Because even when she tried being stoic, she slipped…with him. With him, she smiled, she laughed, she even joked. T'Challa imagined that was what Citlalli used to be before everything was taken from her and for him to be able to get it out of her every now and then was a gift he valued very much.

He hoped she smiled wherever she was.

After months of searching, they caught a break. T'Challa honestly couldn't believe it never occurred to him before. Citlalli's life had been in Mexico, so it only made sense that if she felt threatened she would return to her land where she felt more in her domain.

She was intelligent enough not to leave a trace of her leaving the United States so to anyone else it would appear that she was still in the States. Once they figured that out, their search became easier. Citlalli's old village used to reside not too far from Mexico City so it made sense for her to go somewhere near there. It became easier to spot the woman who had suddenly arrived in a small outskirt town who so decidedly wanted a job in or near a horse stable.

"It was so funny to me," Citlalli truthfully laughed. She sat with T'Challa on a bench only a few blocks from the CIA headquarters. "My adoptive parents had good intentions with their idea to bring me to a horse stable. They thought I should have some nature around me."

"I imagine in New York that's not very possible," T'Challa remarked, leading her to hum.

"So they bring me to this beautiful stable one day and they think that I'm going to be afraid of the horses. As if."

"As if…" T'Challa watched her laugh again. "So they made the mistake of assuming you weren't brave."

Citlalli's laugh subsided into a smug smile. "I don't know if 'brave' is the right word but they never assume anything about me again."

"Did you ride that day?"

"I did," nodded Citlalli, "and after that, horseback riding became one of my therapies. I don't have to think about anything when I'm on a horse. I don't have to remember anything either."

Even just talking about horseback riding made Citlalli look so at peace and that wasn't something T'Challa saw very often.

She rode the horse beautifully. Like an expert, and she was.

Citlalli had a deep affection for nature. She loved it and always lamented living and working so deep within cities. It was perhaps the thing she missed most from home.

T'Challa never told her but every time she shared her woes for a life closer to nature, he secretly thought about taking her away from New York. He was sure that she would love Wakanda, a place where technology was superb but never taking away the pleasure of the naturalistic simplicity of life.

And now it seemed like she had found her place again.

The stable was on a ranch and it was pretty decent sized. There were only workers, clearly not a place for the public. There were crops on one side and many other typical farm animals scattered around. It was all calm, the perfect place for Citlalli.

T'Challa honestly didn't want to interrupt Citlalli's obvious serenity but it was of no use trying to avoid it. On a turn of her horse, Citlalli saw him and abruptly stopped altogether. It took her a few moments to convince herself that she was not imagining him (again) and that he was very much real.

A few more minutes later and she was off her horse, walking it by its reign towards the stable. She didn't look back at the sound of footsteps drawing closer. She went directly to the horse's spot and ushered it in, closing the gate after it.

"It took you longer than I thought," Citlalli said, finally turning to T'Challa. His brows raised with surprise.

"I wasn't aware that I was being timed," he wasn't the response he was expecting from her. She didn't appear mad at him…

She certainly seemed less mad with that smile that marked her face. "Well, being the King of Wakanda should grant you some speedier tech, right? Or is it all Shuri's domain?"

Definitely not what T'Challa expected from her, and yet it had taken about ten pounds of nerves off his shoulders. "Uh, she does say that she's better at it."

"And she's right," Citlalli side-stepped him and walked towards the entrance of the stables. "So then, to what do I owe your grand visit? Should I expect to see Okoye's grumpy face somewhere around here?"

"I came alone," T'Challa said, following behind her. "I figured we needed to speak…if you're willing."

"Yeah, I'm willing," Citlalli glanced behind her shoulder, still smiling at him which he thought was plain weird. Why wasn't she yelling at him? Telling him to get lost?

Citlalli led him to a quieter place in the ranch - a bench underneath a shady tree. She sat down and patted the spot next to her. "Afraid of getting a little dirt?"

T'Challa couldn't help but roll his eyes. This was more or less their typical way of being. It was strange to say he missed it too. He sat down next to her, leaving a decent gap between them for obvious reasons. "I like this place," he remarked, gazing out at the scenery.

"Me too," Citlalli let out a relaxed breath as she leaned back on the bench, "I am just not a city girl. I thought this would be the perfect place to lay low."

"Lay low?"

Citlalli nodded. "There were some suspicions after Rogers and his crew got away. I gave my statement and quietly slipped away."

"There aren't - Citlalli, there are no accusations filed against you," T'Challa said, knowing it for a fact since he had spent a lot of his time searching for that verification.

"Even if there had been, I wouldn't be there," Citlalli said, flashing a small, yet smug, smile. "I don't intend on ever getting caught. I'm a good adapter. I'm more of a chameleon than a serpent, I guess."

"I think you're both," T'Challa said, "You hide very well, but anyone should watch out if they dare to do anything against you."

"Did you come all the way here to complement my skills?" Citlalli was already looking at him when T'Challa turned his head at her. His eyes softened albeit with guilt. Citlalli knew it well - she could read him so well and he didn't even know it.

He had no idea where to start. He had come all the way here to apologize and he had no idea where to start. He spent the next couple minutes in silence trying to figure out his words so when Citlalli laughed, he was more than dumbfounded.

"I can see the wires in your head short-circuiting," she said, tilting her head at him, "Don't bother. I already know."

"Know what?" he frowned.

"What you want to say."

"N-no you don't. How could you know?"

Citlalli's smile broadened, her eyes growing kinder by the second. "Because I know you. You're too noble not to come all the way over here to apologize about Barnes. I'm just glad you realized he wasn't behind your father's murder."

T'Challa lost his breath for a moment. How could she read him that easily? That correctly? He looked at her completely mortified and yet relieved that she had taken the words out of his mouth.

Citlalli's smile still didn't wane. She looked out at the ranch, ignoring the warm flush on her face. "I hope you know that I'm not upset, and I really didn't need the apology either."

"How could not be upset?" T'Challa asked quietly. "I said so many things I shouldn't have. You were right, I should have listened to you…but I didn't. And you have no idea how terrible these months have been for me. A punishment, I suppose, for what I did."

"You were hurt," Citlalli said, "And trust me, we do many things while we are hurt."

"But not to you," T'Challa shook his head, "I would never want to do anything to you. You have no idea how important you are to me. I felt like I lost you, and it was all my fault." He lowered his head, absolutely guilt ridden. A few seconds later, he felt a warm hand come rest over his. He looked at Citlalli but she was gazing straight ahead.

"You could never lose me," she said, her fingers just barely sliding between his fingers, "I know you too well to fall for some mediocre argument. You're my friend. I would never let something like that get between us. The only reason I didn't reach out is because I knew that you needed your space and you would eventually find me."

"How? How could you know all that?"

"Because I know you, my dear," Citlalli finally looked at him, smiling widely. It was so unlike her. "Bits and pieces - I know you whole."

T'Challa's heart swelled with the feelings he kept bottled up. The certainty in Citlalli's voice - the confidence that she was right - made the ache in his heart grow because how could she trust him that much and he couldn't do that with her before? "I don't deserve you," he mumbled, turning his hand under hers and interlocking his fingers with hers. "The faith you have in me is the same faith that I should have had in you. You saw the truth before I did, and instead of trusting you I accused you."

"It's alright—"

"No, it's not," T'Challa shook his head.

"It really is—"

"It's not because how could I do that to the woman I love?"

Citlalli could only be so subtle at a confession like that. The confidence she had spoken with had definitely waned in those first seconds. "I…well…"

Somewhere in all the misery he felt, T'Challa found a moment to chuckle. "I don't think I have ever seen you speechless before." He took pride for being the one to do that to her. "You didn't see that coming, did you?"

Citlalli blinked a few more times and, with a clearing of her throat, looked away. "Honestly, no." She had been well aware of her feelings a while ago but with those feelings came the reality check. She was once of a noble family which meant she knew exactly how royalty worked. And no matter how super progressive royalty claimed to be, there was always going to be something that would separate them (and that was assuming that T'Challa would actually reciprocate her feelings). He was the King of a whole country, and she was a CIA agent (ex-agent now). There was no way that would ever work. So she settled for a silent love and hoped that with years to come, she would move past it.

"I was horrible to you the last time we saw each other so the only way to solve it is to make a fool out of myself," T'Challa decided to say, shrugging his shoulders.

Citlalli looked in his direction again. "A fool?"

"Because I came all the way over here with the intention of apologizing and hoping that you would forgive me but instead I'm sharing my deepest secret with you hoping you won't throw dirt in my face." T'Challa looked down at the ground, partly in shame. If he had been braver before, he would've done this in a much better way. A way that Citlalli deserved.

Citlalli tilted her head at him, trying to figure him out. "You're not very King-like, you know."

"I've heard," T'Challa said, "Shuri likes to point it out a lot. But maybe that's better right now. For your amusement, of course. Here's the King declaring his love for a woman he already lost."

Citlalli couldn't help it; she laughed. "Whether you're the King or not, you're still so clueless. Do you know why it is that I know you so well?"

"No?"

"Because when you fall in love with someone, there's an innate desire to know everything about them." Citlalli gripped their interlocked hands. "And I have wanted to know everything about you. Every single detail about you, whether big or mundane, is in my heart. So when you were upset, I knew you'd eventually come back from it. You always do. You're a fair and just man."

Her sincerity got him again, only this time he couldn't help it. The instinct was beyond him. He pulled his hand out of hers then grabbed her face and kissed her.

It was perhaps the one thing that Citlalli had not expected. She could not lead how she usually did with just about everything else in her life. And it was fine. She was perfectly content following the most amazing man and his wondrous lips. They parted slowly and even then remained with their foreheads against one another's.

"...it's not very king-like to kiss the commoners either..." Citlalli breathed in.

That sounded exactly like something Citlalli would say, and yet it still made T'Challa laugh. He lowered his head, shaking it as he tried to get himself together. "Agent Del Rio, aren't you ever serious for one minute?"

"Don't blame me...the King just kissed me. What ever am I supposed to do with myself?"

T'Challa raised his head to see Citlalli feigning a shocked expression. "You are not funny," he pointed at her.

"I think you'll let me be whatever I want to be on account of this long-term argument," Citlalli said, quickly growing serious. "I may love you but you still owe me for this."

T'Challa laughed again. She could play the role of seriousness so well that anyone who didn't know her would actually believe her. "Can I try to apologize say, in Wakanda?"

Citlalli's eyebrows raised, her 'seriousness' thrown off. Ultimately, she gave up the game in favor of reality. "Of course I forgive you. You don't need to make any grand apologies. I didn't runaway because of you. I needed to protect myself in case something happened, and it did. I know Rogers is on the run with his little merry gang. And truthfully, I don't regret helping him."

"I don't expect you to be regretful," T'Challa clarified first, "You were right. I only wish that I had listened to you back then. You should know that there are no formal accusations against you. I verified it."

Citlalli smiled lightly at him. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that, though."

"I did," T'Challa nodded, "Because I should have been with you at that moment as well." He reached for Citlalli's hand and gently wrapped his fingers around it. "If I had been with you then, you would already be in Wakanda with me."

"Can you imagine? Me in Wakanda?" Citlalli chuckled. 'I don't think your mother and sister would like that very much. Besides, what am I supposed to do there?"

"Be with me," T'Challa said bluntly enough to startle Citlalli. It was hard scaring Citlalli and T'Challa honestly couldn't remember a moment where he successfully managed to scare her. "I love you, Citlalli. I have for a very long time and I should have said it a long time, shown it, and I failed. I don't want to do that again. I don't want to go home pretending like it doesn't hurt to leave you behind. Do you believe me?"

"Yes," Citlalli answered softly, "I do." She could see his sincerity in his eyes, the fondness he held for her was right there...just for her.

"I know how you feel about 'home', and how you haven't really felt like America was your home. I know this place" — T'Challa made a nod towards the field — "feels closer to you but I don't want you to be alone. I don't want to be without you. Come to Wakanda with me, and we can make it our home. But I promise that it can become your home as well. You just have to be there to give it a your touch."

Citlalli actually considered the idea for a moment. Going to Wakanda sounded completely insane at a first glance but then she thought about it again, this time 'going to Wakanda with T'Challa' and it sprung a whole lot of butterflies in her stomach. "It's...it's crazy, isn't it?"

"Why?" T'Challa challenged her for a good answer. "You already left the States anyways. What's a little further anyways?"

"We're talking about a whole sea!" Citlalli chuckled. "And...well..." she sighed, "Who am I kidding? I could never go back to the CIA. Everett Ross would never hire me again."

"You'd be surprised," T'Challa said, shooting her a pretty confident smile.

Citlalli stared at him a couple minutes, getting the feeling she was missing out on something.

"If you want to go back to the CIA, then do it," T'Challa said, "But I will not leave you again. Do you want to go back to the CIA?"

Citlalli's head lowered at the question. "Honestly?"

"Always."

Licking her lips nervously, Citlalli answered very clearly. "No." She lifted her head and met T'Challa eye. "I only ever joined to build connections and networks. It's so tiresome, T'Challa. I don't even like the CIA..." She laughed sourly, "Bureaucratic knots everywhere. I like the freedom — there is no freedom in the CIA."

T'Challa listened to her attentively. He cupped her face, leaning close to her. "If that's the case, then come with me. You might find your freedom in Wakanda."

"The idea of going with you is, admittedly tempting, but I know how royalty works. This isn't some 'be my wife, aka the Queen or be my mistress' is it?"

"Look at me and tell me if that's what I would offer you," T'Challa promptly requested. Citlalli only looked at him for about two seconds before shaking her head. "When I say 'come with me', I mean it as in...fly back with me and...see what happens. You can stay for as long as you'd like. Decide what you want to do next."

"I don't know what I want to do 'next'," Citlalli admitted, "But I do know that I missed you so much. Watching you leave again is...it's not on my to-do list."

T'Challa started feeling something in his chest — anticipation. He knew what was coming...

"I don't want special treatment," Citlalli said, confirming what T'Challa already knew. "And you better tell Nakia to knock it off with her jokes because I know she'll have them."

T'Challa laughed lightly. "I can certainly promise to try and dissuade Nakia from any jokes but I'm not sure I can do much about the first thing you asked for."

"Why not?" Citlalli frowned.

"Because I certainly won't be able to treat you as if you were the same as everyone else." T'Challa grinned proudly about himself. Before Citlalli could fully react, he slid his hands over his face and kissed her.

[beepbeepbeepjeep]

previous / next

[cw: brief description of accident, death, and injuries; experiences that can be likened to dissociation and hallucination]

/— 5: Erasing the Edges —/

As gruesome as it is, Savannah is pulled toward the overturned jeep. They walk to it with bated breath. A few feet away from the crash, officers attempt to get rid of the crowd. She steps right past them and ducks under the caution tape.

The back of the jeep is open, putting them all on display. She could still see hints of the mess under the shrouds.

Reality steadily begins to seep in, like blood staining pure white cloth. Metal cuts through their bodies, still shining. Still sharp. 

They shut their eyes and take the rest of it in. The clamor, the heat, the sharp scents of blood and gas. It’s all familiar, but not like the low crackle of a fireplace. It’s more like the ear-piercing booms of fireworks still ringing after they’ve long dissipated. It’s haunting, like war, like tragedy, like death.

Something unlocks in her. She slips back into a dream.

They're falling, faster and faster. There's a chorus of screams, but no faces to connect it to. It's too bright to see anything. Are they staring straight into the sun?

She can't turn to see where they're landing. No—she can't move at all. They've gone limp like a rag doll, limbs fluttering hopelessly above them.

Then it all stops. Her vision cuts to jarring darkness. She hears frantic voices bouncing around, discussing… something. They're unsure what, but they just know they're a part of it. It's as if she's sitting backstage, waiting for her cue.

They want to stay and finally figure out the meaning of all this, but they feel their grip on the vision fading. They wait and wait, and it’s almost time for their entrance, but…

She finds herself back in the jeepney—the magic one, where everyone’s in one piece. Her head hurts, and she still feels a little lost.

Cato’s the first one she notices again. “Is everything alright? You seemed dissociated. You wouldn’t leave the scene of the accident. We had to guide you back here.”

“Yes, I’m alright.” She pauses. “What about you? It must have been horrifying seeing how exactly you…”

His brows furrow. “I’m fine.”

And they fall into silence. Savannah sighs. Cato clearly isn’t alright. Who would be after seeing their own corpse pulled out of a car crash? 

Then again, she wasn’t very honest herself. Maybe she can encourage a little more communication.

“Actually, I’m quite shaken up,” they blurt. Cato only slightly turns toward them, but they take this as enough of a sign to continue.

“I’ve been seeing—hearing? No—sensing things.”

Now this has his full attention. “Things only you can sense? Like hallucinations?”

“I wouldn’t call them hallucinations.” She purses her lips. “They’re more like… flashbacks? Like I’ve felt them all before.” 

He stays quiet, so she elaborates. “I’ve been having these visions—well, they’re more than just visions, but you know what I mean—I think they’re related to the accident. I get these feelings of falling, and I hear these voices that I know I’ve heard before, but I can’t put names to them.”

Cato’s face is tight with concentration. “Do these come with any other symptoms? Anything you think is related?”

Symptoms? Strange way to put it, but sure. She gives it a good think. “I get headaches. The visions make me dizzy. And I have trouble sleeping.”

“How long has this been going on for?”

“I’m not sure… I’ve had these visions for as long as I remember.”

“Have you had similar experiences in life? Traumatic events?”

“No…”

“You don’t need to get into the specifics.”

“There are no specifics.” They shrug. “I’ve never been in any accidents this severe and… Well. I guess I won’t be in any other ones now.”

He looks away, deep in thought. “Flashbacks, but not connected to any actual events…”

“Well, they feel real. Like I’m connected to them somehow.”

“Are you taking anything?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean medication. Drugs. Of any kind.”

“No?” She doesn’t like where this is going.

“I won’t judge.”

“I really don’t take any medication.”

"Well, what about—”

“You know you don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Hide.” She bites on the inside of her cheek. “I came here looking for a conversation. Not a doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh.” He’s silent for a bit. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay!”

Cato looks at her weirdly. “There’s something wrong with me. How is that okay?”

“Well, I think there’s something a little wrong inside all of us.” Savannah’s eyes drift around the jeep.

Cato does not stop looking at her weirdly. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

“No, it isn’t, but you know what is?”

“What?”

“It means you’re not alone.” They lean over a little to bump shoulders with him. “There are people you can talk to. They’ll understand. Or listen at the very least.”

He breaks eye contact to contemplate this.

“You don’t have to share right now if that’s uncomfy. We all just saw a lot of it, anyway,” she adds. “My point is that we have all the time in the world.”

This is great. Savannah is going to get a good grade in friendship: something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve. Cato will be so befriended by the end of this.

Finally, he turns back to them. “Fine.”

A smile breaks out on her face. This is going so great.

“But for the record, if you need anyone to talk to about your episodes—”

“Visions.”

He sighs. “Visions… I’m here to listen.” Savannah’s shoes happily tap away on the metal floor. “Thank you.”

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