#and hell yeah pre established its us am i right

[dameronspector]

Challengers: Avengers Edition (Part 3)

Pairings: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Stark!Reader (Established Relationship); Bob Reynolds x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Sam decides to sue, Sam and Bucky are being angsty for no reason, Bob finally talks to Yelena and Bucky, you get invited to a gala and and Joaquin is a lil upset.

Warnings: Fuff, Banter, Angst, Cameos, Joaquin loves Reader a LOT, Joaquin being a cutie, Poor Bob suffers :(,CAUTION: Mentions of Bob’s Addiction, Drugs and Mental Illnesses, Graphic discussion of Bob's withdrawals from drugs and his past, the Void demeans Bob, I am NOT romanticizing pre!serum Bob. He is depicted to have an unhealthy/codependent attachment and that is NOT romantic. Valentina is a piece of shit, SO much Yearning and Longing from Bob, SamBucky are dads and cough best friends, Jealous!Joaquin, Jealous!Bob, Reader is oblivious as hell because she has eyes for Joaquin only, Reader is mentioned to have hair long enough to be let down loose, thats all i think! Let me know if i should add something else!

Also, sorry if the timeline is a lil confusing :(

AN: just watched Ironheart, you guys, PLS WATCH THE SHOW! its sooo good and riri my girl is just amazing! please support dominique! <3

"So...we're definitely suing."

Sam announced as he entered the living area, where all of you were lounging around.

Kamala and Kate were sitting on the bean bags, huddled over a laptop as they watched a show, Scott was scavenging in the pantry for something to eat, Carol had decided to busy herself with digging up some more dirt on Valentina, sitting at the dining table, while Joaquin laid his head on your lap, your soft hand buried in his curls, other hand holding a book. His eyes were closed, hands folded on his chest, light snores leaving his mouth.

All of you, minus Joaquin, looked up in shock.

"What...do you mean?", you asked nervously.

Sam rubbed his eyes.

"Well, they're not ready to expose her themselves. He said their hands are under a rock and that they really cannot do anythin'."

You bit your tongue to avoid blurting out that you and Joaquin knew this already.

"What's next?", Kate asked.

"We'll contact our lawyers right away. I'm not letting that woman think ahead of us for even a second. I've talked to Jennifer already, said she'll meet me tonight. Carol, you're comin' with me", he sighed.

Carol simply nodded her head.

"I feel like I'm getting a deja vu", Scott quipped with his mouth stuffed with Oreos.

"Did Mr. Stark and Steve fight like this, (Name)?", Kamala asked you in curiosity, side eyeing Sam nervously.

You looked at Sam who shook his head in dejection.

"Yes, but worse, because they wouldn't hear each other out", you answered her lowly. Sam sighed.

"Alright, It's nearing 6, so you", he pointed at Kamala, "need to get back, before your mom calls us all."

Kamala’s eyes widened before she pulled up Kate, and they left in a hurry, throwing a quick ‘Bye’ over their shoulders. Carol was staying back because she had to go meet Jennifer with Sam, while Scott left shortly as he had a date with Hope.

Now that the base was empty, you decided to finally have a talk with Sam.

You watched him walk around the sofa and join Carol at the dining table, discussing something with her. Dog-earing your book, you laid it on the couch next to you, gently lifting Joaquin’s head off your lap and putting a pillow under him. His eyebrows scrunched up a little before he curled on his side, crossing his arms sighing sleepily.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before standing up and approaching Sam.

“Guys?”

He turned around, frowning at the nervous look on your face, “Yeah?”

“Um-Carol, I’m so sorry, but I need to talk to Sam about something. Would you mind if I steal him for sometime?”, you requested her, not wanting to make her feel left out.

She smiled, “Yeah, of course. Please, go ahead. I need to read this file anyways.”

Sam and you walked over to his personal office, where he stared at you like he’d already read your mind.

“Spit it out, Stark”, he quipped, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You looked at him and covered your face with your hands.

“You’re gonna hate me”, you groaned.

“What?”, Sam stood up straight.

You removed your hands from your face and put them on your hips instead, chewing on the inside of your cheek before spilling everything.

“Uh-Joaquin and I went to the Tower yesterday.”

Sam paused, his eyes wide in disbelief, “You did what?”

“…yeah”, you grimaced.

And Sam spiralled, just a little, out of worry for you two, his eyes wide and face slack.

“Kid, I told y’all not to do this one thing, specifically. What goes on- why did ya’ll even go there? And did anybody see you? Hold on, did Valen-”

“Hey, relax. Nobody saw us, I promise, Sam. We went through the launch pad, so, no security or media people saw us. And no, Valentina wasn’t there either, so don’t worry”, you consoled him.

Sam rubbed a hand down his face, “That doesn’t make it any better, what if they use this against us? What if they’re all going to provoke Valentina against us? This changes everything about the case and now the two of you are caught in the between-”

“Sam-Sam!”, you called him out loudly, holding his flailing hands in yours to ground him.

“I know, we don’t know the team properly, but I swear, they all want Valentina to fall, just as much as we do.”

Sam frowned, “What?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what Bucky told you but he’s right, they’re all lost. She’s holding them hostage and manipulating the Bob guy, who was responsible for the whole black out thing”, you squeezed his hands earnestly.

“That’s…yeah, he did say that. What else do you know? You talked to all of ‘em?”, he murmured.

You released his hands and tugged your cardigan sleeves over your hands.

“Most of it was just her manipulating and threatening to expose them. She’d reintroduce all the omitted information from their files, that could turn them into convicted criminals again, if they disobeyed her.”

You swallowed thickly before continuing, “And this Bob guy…Sam, he’s got a heavy past. Drug addict along with a long history of mental illness. Which is why he’s been so unstable and she’s been using him as a weapon. That blackout thing? That was due to a depressive episode that Valentina forced onto him”, you solemnly relayed the information to Sam, who just frowned harder.

“Has she lost her damn mind? She should be put behind the bars for abetting someone, add the scammy stuff later”, he muttered in disbelief.

You pursed your lips, “I know. She’s a fucking leech.”

Sam furrowed his brows. He couldn’t believe this woman had the audacity to groom a mentally ill person to be an indestructible weapon and worsen their condition.

“And no, we didn’t get to talk to them properly, but they seemed pretty over it. Bucky said he’ll talk to them. Did he tell you anything about it?”

Sam snorted humourlessly, “It was just a whole lotta ‘I don’t know, man’, ‘I’m sorry, Sam’, ‘I can’t do anything except wait’”.

That tracks. He’d said the same to you.

“Yeah. He said the same to us. Honestly, you guys are worse than my dad and Steve”, you huffed.

“Excuse me?”, Sam quirked an eyebrow.

“At least those two fought and yelled at each other. You guys don’t even do that. It’s just endless pining and yearning”, you quipped, pretending to look at your nails.

Sam sputtered, “Wh-Wait. No. That’s not what’s happening-”

“Okay, okay, Cap. I got you”, you chuckled, choosing to go easy on the man. Sam glared at you, his face could radiate steam if it could, because he was positively flustered.

“Alright, listen. Here’s what we’re doing next. We have to get the team on our side first. Build the rapport and trust, and then, make them testify against Valentina. She’s holding them hostage anyways, so it’s not like we are lying about it”, you suggested.

Sam nodded solemnly, “Yeah. I was thinkin’ of meeting the rest but I dunno how, without raising a few eyebrows.”

You folded your arms across your chest, “Don’t worry about that. We’ll figure something out. Valentina loves the whole parade. She will probably arrange a gala or a party for the team so that all the big shots visit her.”

“You think she’ll invite us?”, he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m sure she will. She wants you to see all of this, rub it in our faces and all that crap. But before that happens, we need to file this case, Sam.”

He nodded, “Yeah, of course. Gonna insist Jennifer and might even meet up with Murdock. We need all hands on deck.”

“That’s good”, you nodded before perking up, “Would you mind, if I suggested you to meet up with her at a different place?”

Sam frowned, “I mean, no, but why?”

You chewed on your lip, “I don’t trust her. At all. If you’re gonna meet at a bustling place, she’s probably gonna keep an eye on you. You’d have to take a trip but, it’s important.”

“Yeah, okay, go on.”

“So, dad had this hide out kinda thing. In Virginia. It’s fully surveilled with high tech security, I’ll manage it myself and FRIDAY has access, too. It’s better if all the meetings related to this case take place there. I don’t want you, Jennifer or Carol risking your own assets or lives for this.”

“That makes sense, yeah. Sure”, Sam nodded.

“I’ll send a car to pick up Jennifer. You guys will be okay?”, you inquired.

“No no, we’re good. Virginia’s not that far from here and I know a route, so we’ll be fine. Thanks, kid”, Sam patted your shoulder, a soft smile tugging at lips because he couldn’t help but see your father in you. They had their differences, but Tony Stark was always the first in line to help his team.

You flashed him a sincere smile before turning serious again, glossy eyes looking up at him with so much trust.

“Sam, if there’s any two people, in this whole world who can get through this, it’s you and Buck. You’re not like my dad or Steve. What you have is special. You’re each other’s family. It doesn’t matter that you’re the leaders of two different teams, the two of you will always, always find a way. Please remember that. We need you two to come together for this. And it will happen if you guys just..talk.”

Sam tilted his head, eyes shining with longing and something else.

“I asked Bucky the same, and now I’m asking you the same thing. Promise me, that the two of you will fix this, together”, you croaked.

Sam looked at you for a moment before brushing his hand across your back soothingly, a wet smile spreading on his lips.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I promise.”

You exchanged sad smiles, bringing up a hand to wipe your eyes when there was a knock on the door to the office.

“Bet it’s your clingy boyfriend”, Sam teased.

You snorted, wiping your eyes on your sleeves before Sam walked over to the door, revealing a half awake Joaquin, his hair was mussed with sleep and plaid shirt wrinkled from the tossing and turning.

He looked so warm and cosy, it took everything in you to not tackle him in a hug.

“Good morning, sunshine”, Sam boomed, wrapping an arm around Joaquin’s shoulders and hiding you from his view.

You pursed your lips to stop yourself from laughing out loud.

“Hi….where’s-where’s (Name)”, his sleepy voice cracked as he spoke, a hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“She went back at her apartment, man. Said she’d let you sleep for sometime”, Sam teased further. He knew exactly how Joaquin would get clingy and snappy after he woke up and how he’d relax only if you were with him.

That seemed to have snapped him out of his sleep, his back suddenly straightened up in attention, a sad little pout tugging his lips down. As if someone stole his candy.

“Wait, she left? Without me? I was supposed to drop her home, bro. We were gonna go on a grocery run and I was gonna help her with dinner, and I—”

You giggled loudly, both of the men whipped their heads behind to look at you.

Sam in amusement, Joaquin in disbelief.

And then Joaquin grumbled, Sam shaking his shoulders while cackling.

“Oh man, you’re so whipped. I’m never letting you live that down, by the way. You should’ve seen your face!”, Sam wheezed, leaning against Joaquin, who was still grumbling, a whine leaving his mouth.

“Stop it. You guys are the worst”, he groaned loudly and rubbed his face with his hands. You pouted.

“Alright. Alright. I gotta go. You guys can stay if you wanna. It’s too late to go back, anyways. (Name), please look into picking up Jennifer, yeah?”, Sam instructed and squeezed Joaquin’s shoulders.

You nodded and Sam murmured a ‘Bye’ to Joaquin, before leaving.

Joaquin scrunched his nose before bee lining towards you, strong arms going around your waist and head buried in your neck. Letting a smile pull at your cheeks, you bring your arms around his back, smoothing your palms over the wide expanse, feeling his muscles move underneath them as your head leaned against his temple.

“Good nap?”, you asked quietly.

His warm breath hit your chest, soft curls tickling your jaw as he nodded in affirmation.

“Missed you though. Why’d you leave me alone”, you could practically hear the pout in his scratchy voice. You sighed.

“Sorry, baby bird. I needed to tell Sam about everything that happened yesterday.”

That got his attention, pulling back from your neck to look at you, arms still caging you in his embrace, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh, damn. How’d it go?”

You busied yourself with straightening his collar while filling him in.

“Well, Bucky called him. Said the same things he said to us. They must’ve had a disagreement because the first thing Sam said after the call, was that we’re definitely suing. So he’s gone to meet Jennifer Walters right now, with Carol. I decided to tell him everything before he found out from someone else.”

Joaquin’s eyes widened, “Please tell me he’s not grounding us.”

You huffed a laugh, rubbing his chest soothingly, “No, I handled it and told him that we had it in control.”

Joaquin breathed a sigh of relief, before you continued.

“So now we gotta wait till Valentina announces a gala or a party or something, which she will definitely do because-”,

“She’s an attention seeker”, Joaquin deadpanned, squeezing your waist, jaw clenched in annoyance.

You snorted, “Exactly. And she’ll definitely invite us, or Sam, at least. I’ve requested him to keep in contact with Bucky and sort out whatever they’ve got going on. We need all of them on our side, and to testify against that woman. Sam has agreed to all of this, thankfully.”

Joaquin smiled in relief.

“That’s good. You’re good. You’re so smart, baby”, he praised, brown eyes oozing with love and pride.

You blushed, ducking your head to avoid his intense eye contact, “Shut up.”

Joaquin laughed and pulled you closer, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, enveloping you in a warm hug, both of you unaware of the storm brewing back at the Tower.

-

Yesterday

Bucky and Yelena speed walked towards Bob’s room, the only place where he could be in their absence.

The conference had taken longer than expected, all of them were a cranky and tired mess by the second half. Now they just couldn’t even bear to see each other’s faces or talk to anybody.

But Yelena reminded him of Bob. The events that took place during the day, your arrival, Bucky’s emotional conversation with you and Joaquin, and Bob’s sudden attraction to you, and they immediately got to work, leaving behind the other three to quickly check on the golden boy, who was still in his room, they assumed.

They exchanged a worried look before Yelena opened the door carefully, making sure to make minimal noise so as to not freak the boy out.

The room was dark. The only light that came in, was the moonlight, coating the room in a dark blue hue, highlighting a large lump on the bed, curled up in a fetal position.

For a second, they worried that the Void was out again, both of their hearts thundering against their ribs. Bucky slowly made his way towards the side table, flicking on the lamp that perched on it.

The lamp coated the room in a golden glow, finally shedding some light on the large form resting atop the bed—Bob. Just Bob. No jet black shadow covering him.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Yelena rounded the corner and sat on the opposite side, observing Bob’s sleeping face closely.

“Just asleep”, Yelena murmured, making Bucky unclench his fists.

“Should we wake him up?”, he rasped.

Yelena thought about it for a moment, before nodding hesitantly.

“Yeah. It’s been a while since we left, anyway. If we don’t talk now, we’re gonna keep delaying it and he’ll keep avoiding it.”

Bucky pursed his lips before nodding in approval, letting her do the job of waking Bob up.

Yelena gently placed her hand on his shoulder, shaking him carefully like she was handling a bomb waiting to go off.

“Bob? Wake up, c’mon”, she shook his arm.

A breath left his nose, eyebrows twitching before he suddenly jerked, eyes whipping open in a sudden manner.

Yelena jumped, raising her hands in a surrender manner, Bucky made himself more visible to Bob so as to not scare him further.

“It’s okay, it’s just us. Yelena and Bucky. You’re okay”, Yelena’s raspy voice soothed him.

Bob blinked a few times before sitting up, hands rubbing his eyes to clear his vision of the bleariness. He swallowed thickly, trying to forget the very realistic memory he’d had of you, before clearing his throat.

“H-hey guys. You’re back. That’s..that’s nice. What’s the time?”

“It’s past 9pm, kid. Did you have dinner?”, Bucky asked softly, his voice coated in concern.

Bob furrowed his brows, “9 pm? Damn, I-I don’t know when I dozed off…and no, I didn’t have dinner yet”, he sheepishly admitted, hands playing with the edges of his sleeve.

Honestly, he was still out of it. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, half expecting to have an episode but surprisingly his body had fallen into a slumber.

“That’s okay. We’ll order somethin’ for you”, Yelena offered, exchanging a look with Bucky, who was already ordering some burgers and fries for Bob, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Oh. That’s nice of you. Thank you”, Bob gave them one of his crooked smiles, one that was teetering between a frown and a smile.

Yelena gave him a tight lipped smile before deciding to ask away.

“Bob, we need to talk.”

He tensed up, eyebrows shooting up in fear, a few strands of brown curls framing his eyes, “Wait, what-what did I do? Did the-did the other guy show up again? I’m sorry, it’s just, not been a good day and I-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax. It’s nothing like that”, Bucky placated, a hand held out to stop Bob’s ramblings.

Bob’s mouth fell open in disbelief, glassy eyes switching between the two figures in front of him.

“So-what is it..?”, he asked hesitantly.

Yelena gave him a sympathetic look, deciding to ask him directly in that straight forward way she does, “Bob…what happened with (Name)? Why were you acting so…weird?”

Bob froze. Blood rushed to his ears as everything came running back to him. Your face. Your voice. His sudden possessiveness. His jealousy towards Joaquin.

You and Joaquin together.

Bob clenched his jaw, leaning away from Yelena and averting his gaze from both of the assassins in shame and anger—towards himself and towards the situation.

“Nothing”, he simply murmured, closing his eyes tightly to get rid of the voices and images of Joaquin’s hands on you.

Yelena frowned, Bucky shook his head.

“It’s not nothing. You were practically staring holes into Joaquin, I saw your eyes glow golden as well. You looked at her like-like she’s some kinda ghost. Or a god. And you’ve been asleep for what? Almost 8-9 hours? Don’t lie, kid”, Bucky conceded firmly, his voice taking the shape of a tired and worried father.

At hearing Joaquin’s name, Bob’s jaw clenched tighter, somehow. That same green monster clawing his way up his throat.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like he wasn’t being a dick to me”, he scoffed, looking at Bucky incredulously, a strange attitude overtaking him.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow while Yelena’s mouth fell open.

“This! You’re being aggressive, again! What’s with this attitude, Reynolds?”, she cried out, folding her hands across her chest.

Bob narrowed his eyes, those golden tendrils shimmering behind his irises again, “So I shouldn’t defend myself when someone’s being an asshole to me?”

Her eyes widened, looking at Bucky for help, who just scoffed in disbelief.

“Not when you’re ogling said person’s girlfriend like he wasn’t standing in front of you. Not when you’re poking at him for simply standing next to his girlfriend, Bob.”

That struck Bob straight, wincing as if the jab had hit him directly in the chest, shrinking into his skin once again, blue eyes focused onto his fingers picking the skin around his nails in nervousness.

He knew he was acting strange. He knew he was provoking Joaquin for no reason. And he knew he had no right to feel so possessive over you. All of it was wrong and shameful.

But he just couldn’t help it.

Not when you were no less than a god, as Bucky had mentioned, to him.

As damaged as he was, he had feelings too. Real, raw, human feelings.

“S-sorry. I just…I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry. Really sorry”, he whispered with his eyes shut tightly, making him see stars behind his lids as his hands kept picking at each other.

“See? You’ve once again managed to ruin everything….”

That voice was back again. Bob shook his head in denial.

Concerned, Yelena put her hands on his fidgeting ones, separating them before holding them tightly to ground him.

“It’s okay, Bob. We want to help you. But we can’t if you don’t tell us what’s happening. Is there something you’d like to share?”, she gently prodded, bending slightly to look at him.

He still wouldn’t meet her eyes, lips quivering with the sob he was holding in.

Bucky sighed sadly, “Bob…do you like (Name)? If that’s the case, then, I’m sorry to tell you but, she’s already-”

A few tears escaped Bob’s eyes, face scrunched up in pain before he decided to correct Bucky, unable to hold it in any longer.

"You don't get it", he whispered, cutting off Bucky, who paused.

"What do you mean?", Yelena asked from his right, a hand coming up to rest on his shoulder.

They were going to find out someday. It’s not like he wasn’t obvious or anything.

“…I love her”, he finally answered, his voice a weak and tired variant of itself.

The room was suddenly too quiet. Bob swore he could hear the rustle of the mattress and the traffic below. Bucky's mouth hung open as he stared at Bob blankly and Yelena decided to break the silence by blurting out, "What?"

Bob winced again, removing his hands from Yelena's grip.

"That's-you don't even know her, Bob. You just met her. That's not possible", Bucky reasoned, a frown tugging at his already stressed face, the lines next to his eyes more prominent due to the low light in the room.

Bob's jaw ticked, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth as he mulled over Bucky's words. Even though he was right, he didn't know how you were an anchor for Bob. How he'd decided to get his shit together after learning about you. How Angela would convince him to get better by talking about you and your philanthropy. How he'd seen all of your speeches and talks on his friend's borrowed computer and on Angela's TV, who purposefully set it to your interviews when he would stumble into her shop.

Did he know you personally? No.

Had you changed his life? Yeah. In more than one way.

When he had nobody who stuck around in his life, your face and voice was a constant. You were The (Name) Stark, with a face as radiant as the sun, who was incredibly resilient and courageous and with a heart made of gold, and yeah, you didn't even deserve someone like him. But he was sure that if he ever tried to talk to you, just as a friend, you'd never disappoint him like the others did. The others who left him when it got tougher.

Maybe he was being parasocial. But how would he know the answers to his questions, if nobody gave him a chance to even talk to you? Even a 'thank you' would suffice, he thought. But he couldn't deny the pull he felt towards you any longer. Even being in your orbit was nothing short of an honor for him.

"You don't get it, Bucky. She's-she's saved me. When I had no one, I had her voice to keep me grounded. Even before reaching the lab, I had borrowed a phone, from someone. I used to listen to her speeches every day. On repeat. I'd throw it aside when the withdrawals would start. But I'd feel this...this hole in my chest, craving her voice just as badly as the drugs. And sometimes...sometimes I'd cry my eyes out while I withered on the ground. But my earphones would always play her voice", Bob's voice cracked as he confessed.

Bucky and Yelena were stunned into silence.

The fact that Bob was aware of you before coming here. And unknowingly, you'd played a vital part in his life and where he was today, was so shocking that Bucky stared at Bob's tearful face dumbly while Yelena felt her own eyes water, head turned towards the side to hide her tears.

"I told myself, if I get to meet her, I'm thanking her. For just…being there, even if she wasn’t there physically. For her speeches and work. But...when I saw her, in person today...I realised that...it wasn't just a stupid crush or-or some weird codependent attachment. Her entire energy, the way she holds herself, it's so powerful. I-I haven't been with someone in a long time", he scoffed humourlessly, "Not that anybody wanted a fuckin' mess like me. But, maybe that's why I sort of, fell hard for her. She's been the only constant in my life for the past 5 years."

Bob wiped his tears with his sleeves, nose tinged red and eyes swollen.

"That's why I was also being an asshole to...to Joaquin. The whole 'I know her longer than he does' shit. Even though, as Bucky said, I don't know her, technically", he croaked shamefully, red dusting his cheeks.

Yelena sniffled and Bucky opened and closed his mouth like a fish, unable to take in all of this.

It was a lot. He's getting too old for a love triangle in his own family. And his heart also breaks for Bob. If you and Joaquin weren't, quite literally, each other's soulmates, then maybe it would've worked out. You'd get along with Bob just fine.

But that wasn't the case, and now there were two separate teams as well, so Bucky wasn't sure how to handle this without further breaking Bob's heart.

Because Bucky was sure that Joaquin, being as stubborn and steadfast he was, was absolutely not going to let Bob try anything. Let alone talk to you. Especially not after the intense show down between the two men. Bucky almost groaned at the fact that this was just going to worsen the situation between the teams even more.

Letting out a big sigh, he sat down in front of Bob, elbows braced against his knees as he carefully chose his words.

"Look, Bob...I understand. You knowingly or unknowingly imprinted on her, and you were so used to being the only one who listened to her, that you feel a little disoriented now that your bubble is burst. I get that. But...", he sighed again, "Kid, it's just, not gonna be easy, I'm not gonna lie to you. At least, not as peacefully as you're hoping for it to go. Joaquin is...he's very protective of her and vice versa. And they're literally made for each other."

Bob clenched his jaw harder, the lump in his throat making it harder to swallow. Why was Bucky cutting a deeper wound into his already broken heart?

"So, whatever you do, don't go around picking a fight with him unnecessarily. We're already in a sensitive situation, yeah?", Bucky softly added, trying to be as gentle as he could be.

Bob's vision blurred with tears before he nodded tersely, bringing a hand up to wipe at his eyes and push back his curls.

"Bob", Yelena's scratchy voice brought his attention back to her. He looked up at her hesitantly. Her eyes were bloodshot.

"We know this will be difficult for you. Maybe in ways that is beyond our understanding. But, please, for your sake, talk to me or Bucky next time. Or...maybe we can start your therapy sessions soon? If that's okay with you?", she offered carefully, eyes trained on his every move.

Bob bit his lip, mulling over her words. Therapy didn't sound that bad, honestly. At least, he'd use all the free time to work on himself instead of withering away.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. I-I can go to therapy", he admitted, nodding in agreement.

Yelena let out a sigh of relief and Bucky gave him a rare, kind smile, one that Bob had only ever seen on the super soldier's face when he was with you.

The thought almost made him smile. You had a way around making people comfortable.

"I'll talk to my therapist. She might recommend someone fit for you. You can take a trial session and the rest is your decision. That okay?", Bucky suggested.

"Yes. That's okay. Thanks, guys", Bob finally gave them a weak smile, cheeks glistening with tear tracks under the yellow light of the lamp.

Maybe, Bob could get over this. And he prayed he wouldn't see you anytime sooner, either.

-

Minutes after he'd finished his meal, Valentina had called for an emergency meeting. At 11 pm.

Why? Because that attention seeker had decided that she wanted to throw a Gala for the team. 'For the team' was just an excuse, she just wanted to show off. Show off her wealth, show off her so called team and her nonexistent efforts and how she's the new 'saviour' of the American people.

It was all a load of crap, honestly.

But she wanted to host a Gala and she was going to host it by the end of this week. And guess whom she wanted needed to attend this gala?

Sam Wilson. And you.

"We're not doing this", Bucky seethed, fists clenched tightly in anger. He still hadn't talked to Sam, like he'd promised you. And now, Valentina wanted to do this?

He couldn't imagine how betrayed Sam would feel, if he found out that Bucky had purposefully kept information from him. As if he wasn't on thin fucking ice already.

Valentina smirked, "Listen up, Barnes. I don't remember asking for your permission. It's my money. My team. I can do whatever the hell I want to."

Bucky clenched his jaw, the rest of the team glared at Valentina, except Bob, who had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Anyways, there's gonna be investors, shareholders, some of the richest people in attendance, including a real Captain America and our resident billionaire Stark heir. You guys better behave and keep up my reputation, hm?", she announced absently while flicking through her Ipad, Mel looking at her in confusion.

John scowled at the Captain America jab, Alexei's eyes kept jumping between Bucky's tensed body and Valentina's unbothered one like he was at a tennis match, Ava and Yelena exchanged glances before Yelena looked at Bob, who was restlessly moving around in his seat, itching to correct Valentina on her comment on you.

Yelena grabbed his arm firmly, tersely shaking her head 'no'. Bob bit the inside of his cheek to keep quiet.

"And oh, don't you dare invite them on my behalf, Bucky. We will be drafting a sweet and sophisticated invite, okay?", she gave him a sickly sweet smile. Bucky sneered.

"I'm not listenin' to-"

"You want me to release that footage from 10 years ago? Where you almost killed your best friend, who was also Captain America, on that helicarrier?", she narrowed her eyes.

Bucky froze, his vibranium arm whirring from how tightly he was clenching his fists, a mist covering his eyes.

Valentina smiled in victory.

"That's what I thought. Anyways! We'll keep you updated on the group chat. You'll get a phone soon, Robert, do stay active on the chat. Don't miss any texts and we'll have stylists over to give you all a makeover. I don't trust you all to turn up decently", she grimaced.

John yawned while Alexei was already napping on the desk, burly body leaned over his arms entirely, snores leaving his mouth. Valentina rolled her eyes at this.

"Yeah, fine, Jesus. You're dismissed", she waved them off, walking out of the room with Mel in tow.

"It would take one swipe. That's all. Then she'll be gone", Ava casually mentioned.

"Count me in on that. Anyways, I'm heading to bed. I don't have the energy for this", John announced before yawning loudly, trudging away to his room.

Bucky, Yelena and Bob didn't move from their spots, at all. A strange silence and tension seizing their body as they exchanged worrying looks.

Ava noticed, quirking an eyebrow, "What's going on with the three of you?"

Bucky cleared his throat, "Nothin'. Just...fed up with her", he referred to Valentina.

"Yeah, I mean, I don't really like social interactions, so", Bob laughed nervously.

Yelena simply hummed in thought. Ava narrowed her eyes in doubt.

"Uh- I'm going to sleep. Yep. I'm really tired. Yelena, you should wake up Alexei", Bucky coughed, quickly making his way outside, Bob following closely, while Yelena shook Alexei awake and walked out of the room hastily, leaving behind a perplexed Ava, who was not going to live peacefully until she finds out what's up with these three.

So, basically, Bob was not getting over this anytime soon.

Because you would definitely attend the event. And you'd be with The Captain America this time. Just the thought of being around you, dressed in fancy clothes, with the Cap next to you, was enough to make him hyperventilate.

All he could do was pray for a miracle. And that he didn't have one of his extremely high episodes.

But, god, he'd lying if he said that he wasn't excited to see you again.

-

It was the weekend, Sam had surprisingly decided to take a day off, you and Joaquin joining him for lunch at a staple restaurant, catching up with the recruitment process and other life updates over some pasta and drinks.

Sam, was currently telling you all about Riri Williams and her suits, how she'd worked under Princess Shuri and how she just needed some exposure to update her suit.

"I'd love to meet her", you admitted while taking a sip of your cola. The fact that she had benefitted from your dad's grant at MIT and hearing about her potential and intelligence was enough to encourage you to meet her.

Sam gave you a smile, exchanging a look with Joaquin, who was sitting on your right with his shoulder nudging you every now and then.

"I knew you'd say that. Great, I'll ask her to-", he cut himself off as your phones went off at the same time with a text notification.

Furrowing your brows, you looked down at your screen, an unknown number flashed on top of the chat bubble. Joaquin spared a glance at you phone before leaning over to look at Sam's.

"Wait. Is that the same number?", he murmured, cross checking once more.

Frowning, you opened the message and read it out loud for the two of them:

Valentina Allegra De Fontaine and OXE Group invites you for a Gala night to celebrate the New Avengers! Saturday, 7:00 pm, The Watchtower, Manhattan, New York Dress code: Formal PS: Please do not carry any suits or weapons. Invitation limited to you and Sam, exclusively. - Mel Vishwanathan, Secretary to Miss De Fontaine.

"Holy shit", Joaquin cursed.

"Did you get the same text?", you foolishly asked Sam. Sam quickly opened the message and sighed.

"Yep. Copy and paste."

You scoffed, "Knew this was gonna happen. She's too smart for her own good", fiddling with your phone for a moment, furiously typing away.

"How do we know this isn't a trap?", Joaquin asked in curiosity.

You turned your phone to show it to him, "Because it's up on LinkedIn. This is basically an investment and sponsorship event, alright."

Joaquin read the post, which had over 130k likes already, his eyebrows raised in surprise before he passed it to Sam, who whistled lowly.

"Damn. Look at all these people glazin' her up. There's gonna be media and shit too, it'll be a pain in the ass. We'll never get to talk to any of 'em", he shook his head.

You pursed your lips in thought, "Maybe. Not if we separate, though. You take three, I'll take three", you continued before he cut you off, "And you're taking Bucky. I don't care how, but the two of you are talking. That's it."

Sam narrowed his eyes, "You bossin' me around, Stark?"

"That's right, Wilson. This is the only way how a Stark and Captain America team up can work out, remember?", you teased him.

The two of you stared each other down before erupting in giggles.

"Alright, alright, I will. But the moment he's being immature, I'm callin' you in", he proposes.

"I got you, I promise. But he loves you too much to brood for longer, Sammy", you gave him a knowing smile. Sam coughed to hide his.

Next to you, Joaquin was way too quiet. Silently observing the entire conversation with a distant look in his eyes. You quieted down, nudging him to get his attention.

"You good, babe?", your voice took on a soft lilt that it did, whenever you talked to Joaquin. Sam watched him closely.

"Yeah. Just, I'm not invited", Joaquin muttered with thinly veiled irritation, his brows creased, brown eyes looking like pitiful pools of honey as he looked at you knowingly.

You paused, a flash clip of the events that transpired at the Tower playing in your mind, causing you to close your eyes in realisation.

Of course he was apprehensive about this. This meant you'd be around Bob again, and you'd be alone this time, since Sam would be busy with the task at hand.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "I didn't know you wanted to attend Valentina's gala so bad, Joaquin", he joked lightly. He observed your tensed body and Joaquin's clenched jaw, neither of you responding to his joke and that's when he knew there was more to it.

"Okay, one of you better tell me what's goin' on? I feel like I missed a few chapters?", he asked with narrowed eyes.

You glanced at Joaquin, who was still brooding, before letting out a sigh, "Well. Y'know, the Bob guy in their team?"

Sam furrowed his brows in confusion, "Blackout guy? Yeah, Why?"

Joaquin let out a humourless chuckle, "Yeah, he has a damn crush on my girlfriend. That's what happened."

"Joaquin..", you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Oh, and, he was trying to challenge me or some shit, bro. His eyes were all golden and stuff, as if I was being a hindrance for touching my girlfriend, like, have some class, Jesus", he seethed, getting worked up again.

"And you know what, Sam? He was lookin' at her like I do. Fuckin' stars in his eyes and shit. I can't-"

"Okay, okay. Relax, bird boy. Drink some water", Sam cut him off, an amused smile on his face.

Joaquin almost pouted, leaning back into the seat like a grumpy toddler. You pursed your lips. This was going to be really difficult.

"Guys, c'mon, it can't be that serious. We're not in high school! It's just stupid crush, I bet. And Joaquin, you can stop pouting, it's not exactly her fault that she's a star!", Sam laughed, trying to reason with him. You gave a wary smile at his joke before turning serious again.

"I truly hope it's just a crush. It's going to be a mess to deal with, otherwise..."

Sam gave you a close lipped smile, "Nothing's gonna happen. We'll figure somethin' out if it escalates, yeah?"

"Not before I handle him myself", Joaquin grumbled his breath.

Your eyes widened and you whipped your head around, "Jay, what the hell?"

Sam scoffed, "Easy, tiger. No need to go guns ablazin'. Unless you want another timeout", he warned Joaquin, arms folded across his chest, like a father scolding his son.

That sobered him up. Joaquin sat up straight, glancing at you and Sam briefly, feet scuffing against the floor in embarassment.

"Okay. I'm sorry", he murmured in shame, turning to the side to press a kiss to your shoulder, a soft "'M sorry, baby", spoken into the fabric of your shirt.

You softened up, rubbing a hand down his back. A smile tugged at Sam's lips.

"We'll put you in our comms so that you don't freak out, okay?", Sam suggested. Joaquin nodded in agreement, a hand coming up to rest on your thigh, free hand absently twirling the pasta around his fork.

"Alright, we should inform the team as well. And...maybe I'll call Buck. Let him know beforehand about our plan. That okay?", he asked you.

"Yeah, sounds good. I'll gather some discreet comms that'll stay concealed", you agreed.

"Good", he lowered his voice before continuing, "Also, Shulkie has suggested not to tell them about the entire case just yet. Just to request them to testify. If they ask anything further, we've to ask them to meet personally."

Shulkie was a code name for Jennifer Walters in public, you'd decided.

"Yep, got it, Cap", you affirmed.

"Alright, I need to bounce. I have a meeting with Leila. You guys will be okay?", he glanced at Joaquin, before looking at you knowingly.

Joaquin and you gave him close lipped smiles, Sam taking his leave before clearing the tab. He always treated you two like you were kids on a summer vacation.

You stared at Joaquin's sulking face, hyperfocused on his plate. He did look cute when he was jealous.

"Stop lookin' at me", he grumbled, the natural light filtering through the window making his skin glow, his curls were loose today, falling in ringlets on his forehead and his arms flexed in that gray t shirt he was wearing.

Although his pouting made him look like a chipmunk who had stuffed too many nuts into his cheeks. The thought made you giggle. His nose scrunched up in embarassment.

"Whaaaat, babe, stop", he whined, closing his eyes.

You wordlessly shifted closer, a hand cradling his chin, lips pressed to his cheek lovingly and free arm slinked around his neck.

"You're too cute when you're jealous", you mumbled into his skin and he finally hugged you back, leaning his head into your touch.

He hummed, "I love you, you know that right?", his lips moved against your hair as he spoke.

"Yeah. I know", you reassured, rubbing his shoulder gently, a frown tugging at your lips as you tried your best to hide the sense of dread filling your stomach at the thought of going to the Tower again.

-

Part 4

AN: please let me know if it's still making sense and like and reblog!❤️

taglist: @hearts4barnes @msfirth @spideybrie @parkersjoy @joaquinsgf @wolflikesstuff @frvv @99buttowski @eggyboyoart @superchatnoir07 @wierdlyinlike @peachyrue-777 @makinurbed @abc1234y @ba-space-geek @elyi-o @ph-1isagod @missbrekker @patheticgirl127 @lookitsgrim @spinstertheuncommon @bcystar @yelenaseyeliner @dormammuiivecometo @justeveeeee @lilajoy-ily @spvctor @magikdarkholme @babyreads @paintballkid711 @urfavestan @wyvernthekriger @monselxo @hoe-in-theory-not-practice @sunflower-0180 @marispunk @sadslasher13 @melaninqueen04

Sorry if I forgot anyone or reply if u wanna be removed from/added to the taglist!

[andtoconquer]

Guidelines.

-The Writer-

Hey there, I'm Nate. I'm 27 years old, live in California, and I'm cool with pretty much any pronouns. I've been rping in various fandoms, both on and off tumblr, since around 2014, and the muse I'm using here is a character I've had in in a couple different incarnations for a while now, but I recently felt inspired to revamp him and actually give him his own blog.

-Code of Conduct-

The Basics: Standard rules apply, no god-modding, IC opinions do not reflect OOC opinions, don't start or try to drag me into drama, no bigotry, etc. This blog will also feature adult content, so it's 18+, and I would really prefer not to write anything suggestive with anyone under 21. This is the one rule I will hard block you immediately over if I find out you've violated it.

On Interacting: I'm semi-selective about who I write with, and like to keep my dash fairly clean, but I am not mutuals only, and am happy to rp with people I'm not following. I also love talking to people, and my IMs are open to absolutely anyone, so if you ever have something you want to ask or show me and aren't sure if I want to see it, send it, the answer is almost always going to be yes.

In terms of length I can do anywhere between a few lines and a couple paragraphs. I usually try to match my partners length, but there's no requirement to do the same if you want to write with me, so long as your reply gives me something to work with.

On Content: Given the nature of Conquest as a character, this blog is likely to contain dark and potentially upsetting themes. I will always try to tag the most common triggers, and am willing to add to that list on request, but I have memory issues and can't promise that things will never slip through the cracks.

On Duplicates: I'm happy to write with multiples of any character. The default assumption will be that said interactions are taking place in a slightly different verse, and unless we talk OOC before hand I will treat it as if Conquest has never met any version of your character before. I'm also completely happy to interact with other OCs based on the Four Horsemen, though I would prefer to workout before hand what relationship ,if any, they might have to Conquest (or my other horsemen, if I'm using them) and how it might differ from his main four.

On Shipping: This blog is gonna be multi-ship, but the approach given to each ship may vary. Conquest isn't really in a place to be looking for a serious committed relationship right now, so he may have things going on with multiple people at once, but if you want a monogamous ship with him we can spin that off into its own isolated verse. All that said, he is very much not over his breakup with War, and anyone involved in a ship with him is almost certainly going to have to deal with that. You have been warned.

On Pre-established Relationships: I enjoy pre-established relationships, and Conquest has been around for a long time, so if you have a character who you think it would make sense for them to know Conquest or have previously heard of him, Hell yeah toss that in my inbox and we'll see if we can work something out.

-Tags-

General Tags: #Out of the saddle || OOC #Apocalyptic apocrypha || HCs #And I beheld || Art #Riding bareback || NSFT

Character Tags: #Soldier of Misfortune || Self #Of a different color || The White Horse #Burned bridges || The Horsemen #And hades followed with him || Death #All's fair in love and || War #We cannot eat money || Famine #Baby I'm going viral || Pestilence #Dramatis personae || Side Characters

Verse Tags: #v; Innermost Apocalypse #v; See Me in a Crown #v; Hell for the Company

Content Warning Tags will be in the format of '#[subject] cw'

| Bio | Verses | The Horsemen |

[macabremoons]

Ah, I should have specified! I meant longform whump. And I don't mean whump in a series of oneshots, I mean an actual long form whump stories. That bitch but novelized. Whump itself works when it works. It's a fine genre. I ain't coming for it.

It's more... I have consumed a lot of long form dark fiction and I often find myself bored because I feel like there is a genuine lack at attempt to serialize the story. Dark fic is a bunch of near plot points. The main character almost stamps their foot down, but they don't so the "plot" happens, but they also don't lift up their foot. It's kinda like their foot gets metaphorically vaporized until we need it to appear again so they can hold their virtue. It's a bunch of screenshots of happenings without a rising and falling of action and inaction.

Or the tension of the darkness is evaporated too quickly. Yuck.

Though I am curious why you seem to assume that I am calling for the genre to be lighter? Like:

Not to read about a character being comforted after, or healing, or escaping, or finding their will to live again.

I would not define that as slight brevity. Wait. *googles* huh. Mhm. I swear to God that could be used to mean catching your bearings. OOPS. I invented a word again, goddamn it.

Anyway, I'm really not calling for whump to be lighter LOLLL. Whump is a whole lot like smut. I don't need character arcs in a smut one shot, but if I am reading an original work, I do need the characters to have motivations outside of when they have sex because they are not pre established like in fanfiction and therefore I have no emotional investment. But would having them have moments when they are not having sex making the sex less sexy? No! It's still just as steaming, but now it actually is put into a NARRATIVE. I want long for dark fic to actually try to be a narrative and not to just oops no fingers all over my phone screen.

(I am saying phone here because most of my attempts at engaging with dark fiction has been fan content. Which really doesn't change my expectations of how the plot should work. Yes, long term fanfics are not the same as OG works since they do not have the same expectations of defining the world and characters, but they do have vastly similar if not identical responsibilities when it comes to plot)

But I'm of the slightly jaded opinion that we will not get good long form dark fiction for years. With the trend its having right now on tiktok, punching bag of the internet, there is going to be backlash to it because a lot of what is being churned out isn't that good. And then, once snuffed, we won't have many visionaries to reinvent the genre as it so fucking desperately needs. And then the cycle will continue of often either not fully thought out tragedies or shock content being made and criticized, and the genre will continue being considered low art despite the merit it has. Sigh.

But yeah, not going to lie, whump got in my crosshair, but it mostly got strays. It has a lot of reasons why it does work without more narrative structure. The others tho? No. Get out a plot graph and make it work, sis. I am tired of dark romance just ending weak as hell because they never committed to the MC having a personality or a brain so MC can't really develop Stockholm syndrome. And also can literally anyone who uses Stockholm syndrome as a plot device do bare ass minimum research into abuse victims and how they interact when they hold their abusers in high regards? That dynamic is not just an instant BONK of "oh well, I guess it's okay" it's more often a systematic desensitization to being treated poorly and to a systematic sensitization to the "faults" of the victim. Not to mention how most dark fiction seems to think that smacking "dark" on top of it means it can just be sexist and no one will notice.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

TL;DR: Until some absolute FREAK takes the literature world by storm and makes an academic deconstruction on how dark fiction does and doesn't work (or makes a work so good people deconstruct it themselves) I think I will continue to be cry and sob over the most LUKEWARM, BUMASS, BARELY ENGAGING FICTION I'VE EVER READ.

P.S.: Fluff... also has the same issues. It really has little to do with dark fic and more to do with extremes and how usually people tend to throw out writing conventions in the wake of them.

crying and sobbing y'all when people said that you only add scenes that advance the plot they didn't JUST mean the overarching plot. they meant the plot of the book... entirely. like a conversation between two friends can advance the plot by characterizing them and grounding them with a meaningful relationship. if your book doesn't have "filler" it's missing emotional beats. which are plot. which are important. fun and whimsy aren't mutually exclusive from what "needs" to happen in your book. the advice isn't bad it's just taken too literally stop come back.

[sushiosims]

Kurtis & Chaya

CHAPTER ONE

Kurtis and his friends are sitting in a bar waiting to head to the Fall Festival later that afternoon for pre drinks. Not that a Fall Festival was really a piss up, but any excuse right? 'Hey' Rez remembers, 'Cora and her friends want to meet us at the fest at 3? That cool?'

'Mate...you are so wifed its unreal!' Kurtis jibes, mocking him good naturedly 'This was meant to be boys only!' 'Ah come on, be cool, you know this is the first girl I have liked' Rez says, narked slightly at Kurtis's comment 'Her friends better be hot then' Kurtis laughs good naturedly

Rez stands up and walks away, shooting Kurtis a glare 'I'm away to get a beer, and you're just jealous mate. It won't be this when you finally let someone in instead of just fucking anything that moves'

'Think I hit a nerve?' Kurtis asks, feeling a bit guilty, but still amused with himself ''Yeah maybe a bit, I think Rez was probably even more of a player than you before he met Cora' Zack confirms 'Also, don't shag any of her mates, cos Rez will get pissy about it' he warns

'Bro...that hurts. You know I am just out here looking for true love' Kurtis smirks Zack bursts out laughing, 'Yeah, it will be a cold day in Hell when that happens' 'Ugh...you have so little faith, and you're supposed to be my mate'

They all go home to get ready and Kurtis gets to the festival first...he slides up to the bar and is instantly attracted to the bar tender 'Hey, Sex on the Beach please?' he says cheekily She spins around and glares at him, recognition dawning on her

'Kurtis?' she says 'Er...yeah, how do you know' he asks, he would remember meeting this girl before 'You are friends with my brother Nate, I've seen you on his social media, and you puked in my shoe at one of his afters, I think you may also have left a used condom on the patio'

'Ahhhh, yeah. Good night that was' Kurtis reminisces 'Why weren't you there?' he asks 'Believe it or not I have better ways to spend my time than attend my little brothers thinly disguised high school ragers' Kurtis laughs 'Don't worry, I wouldn't sleep with my mates sister'

She laughs 'I like how you even think that you would know what to do with me' she raises an eyebrow as she pours the cocktail...

'You know you are just turning me on even more right now? Right?' he says, only half joking 'Yep, that's my mission, turning on fuck boys at the bar' she smiles despite herself, she knew his reputation, and it was warranted. But she was enjoying the cheeky back and forth

'Ok, I'll stop, but you are killing me, just so you know....You're Kara right? Nate was saying you are a some big Simfluencer, why you working here' She smiles, friendly now they had established a line 'My mate is running the festival, I am just helping out and plugging it'

Nate and his friends join Kurtis at the bar just then Nate looks at Kurtis and says 'You better not be trying to shag my sister mate' 'He was' Kara calls over from the other side of the bar 'Dude...' Nate says, looking pissed off 'Not my sister man'

'Calm down! First off, I didn't know it was your sister, and second of all...well yeah, I was, but I didn't know it was Kara! Honestly mate. I wouldn't dream of it!'

This gets Jett's attention 'You shagged my sister' he says bluntly Kurtis and Nate burst out laughing 'Oh yeah, sorry buddy' 'Not funny mate, she still does my head in asking about you every single time I see her!'

Cora and her friends join them, Kurtis finds himself chatting to Cora 'Look, I don't mean to be rude, but please, stay away from my friends ok? I really like Rez, and I want my friends and his friends to get on without any complications' she says, getting straight to the point

'You don't even know me, I'm hurt!' he says, then stops joking when he sees Cora does not even flinch, he is not charming this one. 'Ok, ok fine...I won't try it on with any of them 'But seriously, get to know me before you judge me' She raises her brow 'I think I know enough'

Kurtis cant help himself 'Hey, I'm Kurtis, can I get you a drink?' he asks Lana, giving her a half smile that turns her legs to jelly 'That would be lovely! Vodka lime please!' Cora looks over sharply 'Lana, Rez will get you a drink' and she shoots a warning look at Kurtis

Jett comes and sits with Kurtis later on 'So who is your lucky victim tonight then?' he asks 'Fuck mate, I'm not allowed to sleep with anyone! Kara is off limits, Cora's mates are off limits...but I have my sights on someone now...' 'Poor girl...who is it?'

Kurtis nods towards the stage 'Her' Jett bursts out laughing 'Venessa Jeong!? Fuck off mate, you have no chance, she's famous! She won't even talk to you' 'Watch me' Kurtis says smiling Jett shakes his head 'I wish I had your confidence buddy'

Just before her set finishes Kurtis goes up on the stage, blagging his way past security, Venessa looks down at him, confused 'How did you get up here? Who are you?' She looks confused, but interested...he was really beautiful, and she likes beautiful things 'Hi, I'm Kurtis'

He jumps up 'I work for Simsmopolitan as a press agent, and was wondering if you would be interested in my representing you?' She smirks, 'I already have PR, which I assume you must realise' 'Ah shame, but maybe we could discuss it over a drink? Maybe I can offer you...more'

'Thank you, but no' she says smiling at him 'Fine...well it was lovely to meet you, you are even more stunning in person' He drops a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek, and Venessa's legs go weak, he smells so good. and his lips...he starts to walk away 'Wait!' she calls after him

Jett sits in the audience watching, smiling at the audacity and sheer charisma of his friend. He wishes he had that confidence...

Within minutes they are backstage, pressed up against the wall 'Fuck, Kurtis! Not here, if anyone sees me it will be all over the media...do you live near here?' Kurtis pulls back and looks at her intensely...'Near enough' and the two rush out into the night

They get back to Kurtis's home, and sit on the couch... 'Do you want a drink?' Kurtis asks, actually a bit nervous...this was an actual celebrity, could he really pull this off? She nods and turns to face him...

He looks down at her hand running up his leg, and looks at the way she is looking at him...oh yeah. He can pull this off. 'I could drink...' she says, heading over to the kitchen, shedding her clothes on the way He smiles and stands up, following her, pulling his shirt off

He pulls a bottle of tequila out the cupboard, and puts down 2 shot glasses, and some slices of lemon and gestures to her to drink 'You first' she lifts the glass, hands it to him, and tips it into his mouth

She takes the lemon and slides it into his mouth, leaning over and kissing him, the juice runs down her chin onto her collarbone, and he chases it with his mouth, making her breath catch

Venessa can't take her eyes off of him, she runs her hand down his body and smiles 'Happy I'm here?' giving him a gentle squeeze 'You know it....' in one move Kurtis has Venessa against the worktop and is kissing her again, letting his nerves leave him. He knows what he is doing

To be continued.... click below for chapter 2

[fireemblems24]

I am so glad you pointed out the imperialist vibes Edelgard has sometimes. As someone who lives in a country who was basically occupied ahem conquered because they said "we have better ideas that will improve your lives" and had our culture absolutely shattered, one of the main reasons why I disagree with Edelgard so much is because of that. She thinks her point of view is superior and the most morally right and I really don't like it whenever she sounds so confused about people defending their homeland. Especially that one line she has with Dimitri in Chapter 17 ffffff—

Like, girl, they have the fucking right to disagree with you please stop sounding so confused as to why they can't see eye to eye with you gahhhhh

I would be more tolerant with the war if she had say, did diplomacy before it? But she tried to had Dimitri and Claude killed in Part I (the prologue). I would also understand her better if the war was a last resort and the other leaders were corrupt and all that. But they're not. Many of the students (who have power because many are noble heirs) outside her house are heavily affected by the nobility and Crests (Sylvain, Ingrid, Mercedes, Lysithea, etc.) or at least understanding of the problems caused by them (Dimitri). It's so frustrating how so much of this can be prevented if she just talked about it.

Also, to those who said she wants the change to be quick, even with war it won't be. The fucking war basically caused continent-wide damage. It's going to be so hard to actually fix this. Hell, there's definitely going to be an eventual rebellion by former Kingdom / Alliance people or sympathisers. It's not going to be as clean cut as the game or some pro-Edelgard people make it to be. Not everyone is going to agree with her, whether she takes over or not. She just destroyed the stability of the continent and while yes, she can rebuild it again, it will still take time and who's to say future leaders won't be corrupt? Also, a hierarchy will always exist, whether she likes it or not. Especially if she plans to set up a meritocracy. Meritocracy is going to usually end up giving power and privilege to those with already pre-existing privilege as they the opportunity to show off their merits or develop those skills. Poor and disabled people are going to have difficulty as they don't have equal opportunity to develop skills and accomplish stuff. I'm generalising, but it just ends up as a hierarchy, again. Not only that, it also has ways to enforce discrimination.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is, she needs to long term plan out her systems. I apologise since I have bad memory but as far as I remember, the game doesn't give us too many details on how she wants to establish her system. All I remember is she does the war > Church / Rhea out of power > Establish her government > ???. Someone please clear this up for me because I'm confused.

...and again really, diplomatic reforms are an option. Yes, they're much more tedious. Yes, they take so much more longer. Yes, sometimes it feels impossible to accomplish. But did she not even consider it as an option?

All in all, I do like Edelgard. But I really wish the game let us go against her while we're with her? I wish it wasn't just general "agree with Edelgard" for CF. I remember someone pointing it out to me before that it would've been really great if she had someone in her house who does the same role Felix does in AM... which is basically disagree and call out the lord's shit. And they pointed out Ferdinand could've probably been that character for CF. And I kinda agree? I really think CF would immensely improve if Edelgard had a challenger / foil to her beliefs similar to how Felix does that for Dimitri.

Anyway, sorry for the very long ask lol. I like Edelgard and I agree with some of her morals and ideals such as the crest system being bad but....she's done so dirty asdfghjkl. I do think she's written well enough to incite these emotions in me, and she makes for a good antagonist. As a protagonist lord however.... yeah.

First off, sorry it took so long to respond, but I wanted to give an equally throughout response. 

While I haven’t gotten to chapter 17 yet, I can attest to the notion that Edelgard’s rhetoric is eerily similar to Imperialist propaganda. I do understand this is fiction, and that it’s okay to hand-wave/enjoy things in fiction that you shouldn’t or wouldn’t in real life. Crimson Flower has its charms and parts I enjoy. Edelgard is an interesting character more hampered by things that plague Three Houses as a whole than anything else, but it’s still worth examining how dangerous her rhetoric is. Because, unlike you, my country sits at the opposite end - the Imperialist nation selling that rhetoric to its citizens, and, unfortunately, at the time I bought it - which makes me really sensitive to this. 

I’m from the US and I’m specifically speaking about the US’s invasion of the Middle East. I was in middle or high school, just barely a teenager, and naive and ignorant enough to believe what my leaders said. Because guess what? I bought into it out of misplaced and ignorant (and racist) compassion. I was horrified at the idea these people were suffering unfairly just because of where they were born whereas I got all these promised privileges just because of where I was born. I really thought the US would go in there and give them democracy and everything would be great. Looking back, I realize they were lying, that we’ve only made things worse, that it’s horribly racist to assume the US was just inherently better, and I’ve sense then gained access to fast-speed internet, traveled, matured, etc . . . and thankfully this all happened before I had any actual power to do anything like vote. But to this day I’m beyond pissed off they used my own compassion against me to line their own pockets. It was ignorant and racist, but it was all based in concern that others didn’t have the same quality of life I had and a growing realization of my own privilege. And that’s what I hate so much. It didn’t sound evil. It sounded good. It used people’s good will and compassion against them and twisted it into evil for their own causes. 

I don’t think Edelgard is after Faerghus and the Alliance because she wants oil. I think she honestly thinks she’s doing good. And, if this were real life, I think that makes her rhetoric even more dangerous than a corrupt politicians’.  Because everything else is still the same. She’s being ignorant, nationalist instead of racist in this case, and honestly thinks her moral superiority will improve everyone’s lives even if it means ravaging the entire content in war. She is dangerously naive and ignorant. 

Maybe I’d support her more morally if I believed for an instant the general populace welcomed the changes she wants to bring, if the leaders she fought against weren’t open and wanting change themselves, ect . . . But the dialogue indicated her presence inspires people running and screaming in terror, not welcoming her presence (see the chapter where you kill Claude). The Kingdom is still fighting tooth and nail against her. She’s not supported. Her changes aren’t wanted. And she hasn’t bothered to learn a single thing about the cultures she’s determined to squash under her heal nor the leaders heading them. 

I also think I’d support her better if we had a clearer idea of what her plans were. But CF has shifted from Edelgard speaking about interesting ideas and classism to evil dragon overlords and chastising Byleth for making her blush. The decision to side with her or Rhea is not choosing between two ideals, but an emotional, spur of the moment thing. Edelgard’s early supports with Byleth attempt to convince the player to side with her not based on political ideals, but on feeling sorry for her. 

CF gives you no choice but to agree with everything Edelgard says (as you said, there’s no “Felix” or a “Lorenz”). It wants you to support her war without question, and therefore you don’t get any answers to questions like - if this is really just about Rhea, why are we invading the Alliance? Because they won’t hand power over to you? Why didn’t you just stick to the Empire to enact your changes? In the end, you’re left with what sounds more and more like an entitled Imperialistic princess with absolutely no idea how ignorant she is hell bent on conquering what she thinks belongs to her based on a conspiracy theory. 

All that said, I do think Edelgard has interesting ideas and isn’t wholly wrong, just how she goes about it is horribly wrong. And I fully believe the core issue is how CF has dropped the ball big time writing wise, because diving deeper into her ideas and not her crush on you would go a long way. So would shifting the narrative away from evil boogey dragon lady must die and everyone else is wrong and I am superior and right and more towards a clashing of ideals, this route could’ve been a lot more and seemed a lot less ignorant, naive, entitled, and Imperialistic. 

[icecreamkink]

watched all of the untamed / cql in two weeks after my friend 1 told me abt mdzs a hundred years ago and my friends 2 and 3 tried to get me into cql for like two whole years and there are.

feelings.

very first scene is a very dramatic death in the middle of nightmare battle on sith planet land . i will forget abt it in the next tenish episodes and then will be very surprised when it becomes Extremely Painful

anyway magic flying gays and possession and human sacrifice! we are off to a great start

in retrospect, chaos goblin wei wuxian must have had a blast pretending to be so cRaZy and be as disruptive as he could as mo xuanyu lbr

listen. why is fire always evil coded. cant a magic clan wear red, black and orange and have flame motif while being wholesome?

For Legal Reasons These Are Not Zombies

i wish the politics of the sect were a bit clearer, especially at the beggining when the wen clan had sm power, was wen ruohan the chief cultivator? is that why they were so slow in responding to the attacks? im v confused by the pre yiling patriarch politics

fighting in the roof by the moonlight as way of flirtiiiiiiing. as i understand this is a wuxia/xianxia trope and honestly...... thank u for ur service

slight bullying and being a nuisance in general, as a way of flirting we love to see it

wwx: if i drink on the rooftop, thats not inside the cloud recesses! hmmm check and mate :D lwj: i will fuck u up so help me god   wwx: :0

i lov them

through hell or high water (quite literally) wei wuxian rem ains a trashfire gremlin till the end and i love him with my whole heart

in the pt subs wei wuxian calls jiang cheng a stubborn duck and i dearly wish that had come back

my opinions on almost every character goes from love to hate u - Hmm Me Like U - BABY. ILY. and i am Very Pleased w that. its been a while since i loved such a complete cast so much i think

no really. i WONT go into a detailed rant abt what i love about each of these characters and each of their relationships to each other. but i COULD. 

some lan disciples in the loudest whisper ever: YEAH THATS THE JIN BASTARD MENG YAO HEARD THE GOT SUPER HUMILIATED BY HIS DAD LOL SURE HOPE HE DOESNT TAKE SLIGHTS TO HIS CHARACTER TO HEART

lan xichen, immediately: i must Love him 

being into problematic ppl is in the Lan genetics, we come to realize

wen qing deserves so many awards for so many things but not snapping and just stabbing wen chao is at the top 

that scene at lan qirens class where wwx talks about using resentful energy to fight a violent spirit. exquisite.

 It establishes Good Student lan wangji, wei wuxian as curious and questioning and not afraid of taboo,  lwj sees that wwx is not, in fact, a dumb ass hes just a Dumbass,  shows us the audience (esp. a western audience) how shocking the idea of disrupting the dead/dying and controlling resentful energy actually is,  the theoretical foreshadow arguing, everyone else like ‘shUT UP’,  “and how could you ensure that the resentful energy would obey you and not hurt other?” “well i havent thought that far” and of course, lan qiren just straight up lobbing a hard object at wwx head,. chefs kiss

fellas is it gay to bother the hot rule obessessed nerd from ur school and make drawings of him with flowers in his hair and then hide gay porn in his book to antagonize him and ask him to hold ur hand and be ur friend and talk to him all the time and get him drunk and give him bunnies bc you know he likes them and give him a lantern and always want his attention and dedicate yourself to getting him to smile-

and after all of that wwx rly said oh i Admire him, aksd like yeah we all were there in high school buddy

i have Learned. caves = gay.

 accidental marriage +beint physically tied together with the sacred married ribbon+ gay panic+foreshadowing+bunnies! in the cave (1)

the story abt lan yi and baoshan sanren tho. i would like to see it

early days wen bros pull my heart strings like a guqin 

EVERYTHING about the lantern scene; disaster hets jiang yanli and jin zixuan; how wwx made lwj a bunny lantern. how soft and touched lwj was. wwx gleefully pointing out he was smiling and lwj IMMEDIATELY PULLING HIW SWORD ON HIM LMAO. tragically foreshadowy promises to do right by pepople, living without regrets. lwjs 'oh no do i love him??' face. just. all of it. 

i have it on good acc that in the novel lwj is explicitly Repressed Gay Panicked Big Horny which is delightful and rly Adds to the performance

 baby lwj is really just conceal dont feel dont let them know u have EMOTIONS (derogatory)

jiang cheng rly went "why dont.u go play with HIM if u like him so much"

jc and wwx have big BIG annoying sibling energy dont think too hard abt it or youll cry

lotus pier is soo pretty :((((((((((((((((

up until episode 13 you could think this could be a magical ancient chinese gays pride n prejudice w swords and shenanigans ................youre just not prepared for the game of thrones of it all

seriously ha ha ha i cried so much w this show my eyes genuinely swelled up . like. physically. fun timez fun timez

that being said, its hilarious that wen xu goes to cloud recesses like 'come out or ill kill all these hostages' and then DOESNT WAIT FOR AN ASWER AND KILLS THEM ALL IMMEDIATELY. do u know how blackmail works sir

 would like to make it recorded that from day one i was like 'CALL A GODDAMN CULTIVATION G20 THIS ASSHOLE SECT IS LITERALLY MASSACRING YALL!!' and it took them like 3 or 4 massacres to do anything and they STILL sent their heirs into their territory  LIKE

when wwx cites the gusu lan rules to wen chao tho. that rebel/attention whore/cutie pie 'look lan zhan i DID memorize the rules after all' ‘also a big fuck you to the wen sect :D :D’ sweet spot that scene achieves . delicious

all the cultivator young masters being petty af even though they are practically prisoners at the cave is hilarious and i love them

hurt and comfort + gay mistunderstandings + watsonian gay declaration music + accidental evil acquisition! at the cave (2)

its like where do i start? the fact theyre both trapped and kind of heavily injured inside an isolated cave with a murder turtle? wwx gay panicking lwj into coughing up bad blood? lwj being jealous as wwx babbles abt mianmian? telling him he shouldnt play with people and wwx saying he never played him? wwx going Oh. I See what is happening. YOU like mianmian, and lwj absolute done face ??? (iconic) wwx touching the sacred married ribbon Again? the telepathic communication? the sword? WEI WUXIAN ASKING LAN WANGJI TO SING TO HIM AS HE IS PASSING OUT AND LWJ SINGING HIM. THE SONG. HE WROTE. FOR WWX. AND THAT HE CALLED. THEIR SHIP NAME????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

they are SO insufferable pleeeeease

in the words of my friend 1 : “CQL is so gay we were all amazed how it got past the censors Ofc unfortunately it can't be novel level gay But they did their best And we love them for it”

in the theme of songs THIS OST. WUJI HAS BEEN LIVING IN MY MIND RENT FREE SINCE I FIRST HEARD IT the whole ost is so so sO beautiful.

 the costuming in this is also soooo exquisite. the embroidery? the fabrics? the details? how every sect and clan has a distinct style and architecture? (also ik they based each off of dif periods in chinese history which is REALLY fucking cool) just chefs kiss

the direction too!. i enjoy the unusual camera movements and i think they give it that Vibe, also their composition is PARTICULARLY good when it comes to telling the subtext through position of camera/position of character (like nhs off to the side in scenes he at first glance doesnt need to be/ how lwj is often centered when hes Jealous Yearning at wwx being affectionate w other ppl, wwx return from burial mounds etc)

ik madam yu is like Badass Milf Check and shes not getting any mom of the year awards but im delighted at how messy she is. IMAGINE that woman on tiktok

you better have enjoyed gay cave (2) bc its Just Pain from here on out! 

jiang fengmian and madame yu win the Most Dramatic Way to show they do care about each other, actually ..... ever :)

i thought jiang yanli jiang cheng and wei wuxian forcing themselves to escape yunmeng barely holding on after their parents are killed was going to be the height of pain in this show. ha. 

the family dynamics in general on this showwwww, both blood/ adopted/ found families, brotherly bonds and lifelong friendships just. rly. truly. fucked me up. theyre all so important and complicated and well rounded and beautiful and tragic

and beyond being a Win For the Gays im so glad the relationships w wwx and jiang yanli/ wen qing were NOT changed from platonic bc they are so much better like that imo. like maybe if we didnt Live In A Society it wouldnt be so, but the fact wwx and others can love and value them so much and theres nothing romantic or sexual abt it is like. so refreshing. especially @ jyl, with the way he and jc are overprotective of her and shes such a nurturing/care taker figure for them, it would just not vibe as well if they made it romantic

i love that this is a story abt Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch aka Actual Satan/Boogey Man/Village With/Public Enemy Number One , my dude is literally a necromancer who only dresses in black and has evil smokey black tendrils wafting out of him, but the really edgy one is still jiang cheng, pastel purple fashion icon

and speaking of best/worst siblings wei wuxian and jiang cheng *immediately starts crying* 

The Golden Core Transfer i just. no thots only tears 

wen qing and wen ning putting themselves in so much danger just.... to help them. wn saving jc from wen chao. wq finding a way to get wwx to transfer his core. like thinking about the monumental work these two did to help wwx and jyl and jc... jyl trying so fucking hard to be strong and keep on moving and giver her little brothers comfort after losing everything... jiang cheng. losing his parents and his home and his ability to do anything abt it and his complete desperation and lack of self worth and turning on them with agression  when he didnt realize all that they did for him ... hhhhhhhhhhhhh

me, pointing at the whole cast “i just LOVE them mom!!!”

its sad tho, that BARELY ANY of the women have like.... actual important conversations let alone relationships with each other at all in the story. and like wq and jyl have stayed at the same place for extended periods of time, where wq actively took care of her TWICE,  and still! not one measly convo, nothing! ................ .𝓌ₕᵧ

everyone in this show need a good sip of Self Worth and Stop Sacrificing Yourself juice 

ngl the sword flying looks very dumb 

“a-cheng, please bring a-xian back.” “i will, i promise.” ;-;

the whole calling each other by the More Intimate Version of the name, first as teasing and later as true intimacy. mmmhmmm yes

untamed where everythings the same but wwx evil flute song is eoeo

related that scene when wwx comes back from the burial mounds for the first time w demonic cultivation and he acts all formal and calls lwj hanguang-jun and keeps being evasive and distant and mean and soooooo................. facetious 

and how hes kind of desperately trying to keep intense lwj at bay (A FIRST) and avoiding actually talking to either of them and its all tension ughhh and then he MOCKS his and lwjs relationship, he jokes w him in this like... mean echo of their usual ~banter~ oof 

 and like!!! uncertain but so relieved jc who just HUGS him w no reservations for once and its not like he isnt just as worried as lwj abt wwx and what hes doing, but he chooses in that moment to enjoy getting him back first and mmhmMMMmMm yes (maybe my favorite scene in the whole show? MAYBE SO. ) 

highkey hurt me but also. i might be into mean wwx. i will take no criticism.

lan zhans sad eyes tho :((((((((( 

on one hand i wish we could have seen what happened at the burial mounds but on the other the timeskip adds so much flair to his return so im hnnn

also i love that hes been missing for 3 months reappears kinda melancholic and bloodthirsty and knowing malign tricks and jc is like 'so. are u sad bc of lan wangji'

when ur bae survived the war but he thinks ur evil/ might be evil so you cant kiss :///

hmmm talking at the rooftop under the moonlight not mentioning everything that stands between usssss

they are the two jades of lan and we’ll be the two heroes of yunmeng is the type of line u dont even need to know whats gonna happen to know thats gonna be sad

when they fight wen ruoshan at the nightless city i thought that was the battle we see at the first ep and its not and its so easy and theyre all like ‘yayy we won go wwx!’ i was just. SCREAMS WHAT is gonna HAPPEN

so like. post burial mounds/sunshot campaign pre yiling patriarch wwx is like. ultra arrogant, ultra mocking, peak lil shit and it gave me e v e r y t h i n g i wanted

even tho having the wen prisoners at the targets at phoenix mountain and still having wwx and jzx shooting the arrows was???? so.... tone deaf 

wwx: fucking w demonic energy   jyl: he has never done anything wrong in his life, ever <3 <3 (mood)

the parallels between meng yao/wei wuxian (and even xue yang a bit?) are Seen and they are Valid

wwx post burial mounds: can yall SHUT UP abt the goddamn sword (suibian left the chat)

LIKE truly, we talk abt the angst and yearning with wangxian. but what abt wwx and suibian. xianbian / xianqing angst and comfort 100k

take a shot everytime someone coughs up blood

zidian is simply the coolest spiritual weapon rip to suibian and chenqing and bichen and sendou and baixa........ but tis the truth 

cons: everyones families died in a nightmare war! everyones homes burned to the ground! everyone is traumatized! pros: everyone gets cooler clothes and weapons!!

wen ning and a-yuan and yanli bestest babes squad dont touch me rn

everyone: brooding and fighting                                                                wq and jyl: why dont you try some acupunture/drinking some soup and calm down huh? how abt that bitch?? 

showing the battle/massacre at the nightless city first was genius actually bc then everytime we have a cute scene w yunmeng bros and theyre like 'we'll be together forever! uwu' youre like oh. oh no. oh no no no. 

justice vs lawfulness vs means and ends 👁

jc: stay in the right path and practice the art of the sword                        wx: yeah thats not gonna happen chief

my reaction to wwx renouncing to the sect politics to help the wens was just that elmo burning gif in succession

the dramatic rain. wen qing desperately calling out to wen ning. the ghosts/puppets killing the guards. how terrifying wn actually was while wwx was controlling him :( lwj goeing after him to try and stop him and then he just; he Sees him and understands him even if he cant actually do anything about it other than let them go. 

“there must be somewhere in this earth we can go to :(((((((((”

"IF I HAVE TO FIGHT THEM, I'D RATHER IT BE YOU. DYING BY YOUR HANDS WOULD AT LEAST BE WORTH IT." oh my god oh my god oh my goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooddddddd

also lwjs umbrella is white w black smoke.. .  . nice

yiling patriarch / demonic farming burial mounds settlement is like one of my favorite concepts. they an "EVIL" FARMING COMMUNITY LED BY THE VILLAGE WITCH COME ON

they planted TURNIPS and LOTUS FLOWERS and ONE (1) baby and made lanterns and a common hall :(((((((

wen qing and wei wuxian, baddest bitches and genius science best friends i absolutely LOVED to see it. they rly went ‘is anyone gonna sibling/project partner that’ and didnt wait for an answer

both wwx and jyl getting lotus ponds at the burial mounds and in lanling bc they miss lotus pier ;;;;;;;w

;;;;; wish jyl had actually gone into the burial mounds. we were robbed of jyl and wq meeting again and jyl meeting a-yuan and seeing the settlement and the homes and all ;w; at least jc did go, stab wounds and broken arms and all

wwx like... having thrown his whole life away to help the wens (yeah the sect leaders and jin guangshan in particular wanting his stygian tiger amulet was an Element but still) and not.... necessarily regretting it, but grappling with all of the consequences of it... becoming moody and drepressed at times, missing his family and lotus pier and his friends and probably simply missing being around people and causing trouble, extrovert that he is, lashing out at the wens and at a-yuan, just in general the whole messiness of that experience

the way the resentful energy does affect his temperament is rly nice bc its not too in your face,(i mean outside of the Shaky Hands of Rage) but like he clearly has a much lesser control on his anger and impulsivity (tall order) than both before bm and after hes ressurected

on that note A-YUAN BABIEST BABY BOY BEST BOY

lan zhan being like oh hey there wei ying fancy meeting u and our son here. just passing by u know how it is hmmmmMm and then PLOT TWIST having defied orders to go see him and being punished for it. oof;;

 they habent seen each other in like? a year? and now theyre tgt 10 seconds and are already parenting a child together

also lwj rly kneels down in the snow way too much to be healthy

wwx: calm down guyssss i wont lose control of demonic cultivation omgggg  .   spoiler alert: he loses control of demonic cultivation

did u enjoy cute children? good bc now the Real Pain Begins

jiang yanli and jin zixuan rly out there APROPRIATING both disaster gays AND bury ur gays huh ;w;

i KNEW jin lings birthday was gonna fuck something up but the GASP that left my body when wwx lost control of wn and killed jin zixuan .. . . 

im sorry and thank you aaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaAAAAaAAAAA 

when wen ning and wen qing were telling wwx their plan i was saying NO NO NO NO NO NO out loud in despair 

also can we talk abt how wq is definetely talking about only the both of them surrending themselves but then? everyone else just surrenders w them? IT MAKES NO SENSE LIKE WHY WOULD THEY what would be the Point

 sometimes there are some pretty gaping jumps in logic and continuity that are just like                     ?          ?

wwx: oh so when you try to murder me its justified but when i survive through dark magic and murder all of you its a "war crime"

unsurprisingly, his most feral, most spiraling moment talking to the sect leaders on the roof and attacking them and even fighting lan zhan is among my favorite scenes... its like, so painful to watch but also   so       thrilling   (and maybe my wen bbs dying arose some resentful energy in me what can i say) 

and its JUST, all they ever wanted was to do good but then... war. and trauma. and hubris. 

jiang cheng on the ground clearly thorn between what to do and feel is a Mood, lets just say

i was already crying when jyl showed up, but if i wasnt-

 i suffered SO MUCH through this series trying to figure out WHY jc would kill wwx. and when i understood. its somehow not as bad as i thought and also MUCH MUCH WORSE

a look into my group chat during the last flashback episodes:

SO ANYWAY. after the BLOOD BATH and RIPPING YOUR HEART OUT and FEEDING IT TO YOU  the untamed goes ‘ayy back to the present!! tu du dud ud du’ 

literally it ends a quarter into an episode and then KEEPS GOING i had to pause and stare blankly at the ceiling for an hour

babie cultivators and detective soulmates . i do need some cute after All of That 

(not that the pain is over LOL)

lwj is significantly less emotionally repressed in the present and its delightful. hes just ALL IN with wwx. and not just in the ‘i would and have killed various men and risked my reputation for you’ but also ‘ur tired here have a drink i brought it up cause i know u like it and it want you to be happy, always’

“when everyone praised me and wanted my power, you were the only one that challenged me. now that everyone hates me and wants me dead, youre the only one that stands by my side.” hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

and just filling in the blanks how lan zhan searched for him. for all of those 16 years he searched for him and was punished for it and raised a-yuan, the only survivor of the burial mounds settlement, as his own in gusu......

and jiang cheng.  being the tough love uncle . having raised the yunmeng jiang clan from the rubble all alone, his whole family dead, some of it on the blame of his own brother, his siblings, his closest friends gone.......and only jin ling there needing his guidance. 

THE PARALLEL BETWEEN JIN LING BEING A LIFELINE FOR JIANG CHENG AND A-YUAN FOR LAN WANGJI AFTER THE BATTLE AT THE NIGHTLESS CITY  

great now i made myself sad

and like . the fact! that lwj and jc dislike each other!!. jc projects blame onto him for wwx both “leaving” him and indirectly causing their families deaths and when hes so consumed by it he makes wwx an enemy, lwj is there now? trying to protect him?? and lwj, who can never understand the pain that wwx , indirectly or not put jc through, but who was right there when jc tried to kill him and will never allow him to hurt wwx again. and how they like. in a way project blame of their tragedies onto each other while dealing with some type of survivor guilt and in their own way still loving wwx through it all???  amd in way its kind of fundamentally selfish but also tragically understandable? and like when u put it against the fact that after he disappears during the sunshot campaign they were looking for him together and fought together??

JUST. THE CHARACTERS. AND THE RELATIONSHIPS IN THIS. MAN. UGH. GOD. 

and like i think thats what makes it so good? its such a sad and painful and violent story, edgy even, but its compelling bc at the center of it there are all of these relationships and different types of love and hope and. :( i love it

enough crying lets talk abt wwx sleeping at the jingshi with lwj and wearing his under garment for a minute 🙏

 jin ling just has that Was Raised by JC energy tho lmao i love him

babie cultivator squad is the perfect ammount of cute and comedic relief while still bearing the weight? of the narrative in a way, both from sizhui and jin lings existences, and also. like. how do i put this. they feel hopeful? they were born after a war, they came of age at a time of relative peace, they dont hold on so closely to the resentments of their parents/father figures, they are specifically shown as more accepting and open minded. and its like.... Hope for the future  

one of the ?? things  i love the most is the fact that the main cast are often in situations where theyre hunted/running but they like. never wear disguises... just going around in their gorgeous expensive clan clothes and hair ornaments and distinctive spiritual weapons.... maybe w a straw hat on, just for kicks

wwx teacher 🥺🥺🥺

so this is why its called Yi City Misery huh

a-qing is such. an icon. im so sad. my girl even knew to leave xys dumb self rotting by the road but no one listens to her thats why theyre all dead or sad 

her and xue yang measuring each other up was so entertaining lmao

 its the funniest thing when hes like. HERES MY SAD STORY. FOR WHY IM A SADISTIC MURDERER. I BROKE MY HAND ONCE. 

like ok someone broke his hand in a horrible way, and like Poverty, i get it but also like.......... that lost the brunt of a proper sob story like, 50 sadistic murders ago bby

and i love that xingchen does not entertain that for a second hes like ‘not ?????? good enough???’ and the best thing is he wasnt even like 'u hadto be the bigger person' or sth but ' well then break that dudes hand back, rip his arm off for i care, what do the rest of us have to do w anything???” 

anjo sensato :(

xue yang is like..... the sexy sadistic evil version of a himbo..... a meanbo...

the fucked upness of xy’s feelings for xxc/ xxc and sl feelings for each other... like my dude literally gave his bf HIS EYES. and xy getting so attached to xxc .... the fucked up fake domesticity.... having him hurt sl..... then desperately trying to bring him back ...................... oof

song lan........... literally had his eyes AND tongue removed, his bfs eyes put in place, was almost killed, turned into a puppet by his bf unknowingly, manipulated by xy, sees his bf killing himself in despair.... and STILL finds the strenght to get up from there, and keep on traveling and helping people and attempting to fix xxcs soul.......... like, my man. damn. 

wangxian looking at songxiao and seeing an Actually more painful parallel for themselves. ft. that Color Coding. 

THE A-YUAN/SIZHUI REVEAL PUNCHED ME IN THE HEART but in a good way for a change

should have know that he would be the Best Boy the cute one w all the braincells

the butterfly AND the bunny lantern. i see how it is

u know is very convenient that no one can see the stark black veins on wen nings neck, ever 

BAT WEN NING 

wns face when lwj comes into wwx room like ‘:0 omg did u two finally get your shit together? good for you master wei good for u’ 

(they didnt) (yet)

DISASTER DRUNK LWJ. JUST. THRUST SOME CHICKENS TO SHOW UR RESSURECTED BAE THAT U LOVE THEM.

i have absolutely no idea WHY they gave lwj the same punishment for fighting his own sect/allies to protect the burial mounds as when they got drunk on cloud recess class days.... like? its such a ... emotional continuity error again

also is lwj gonna get an actual friend besides wwx , ever

mianmian marrying and having a family and a cute life after saying FUCK U AND UR SYSTEM TOO in a much less unhinged and dramatic way than wwx......... fills me w joy

also lol the idea that like. her husband not knowing that shes friends w satan/the boogey man/the village witch is hilarious

i love nie mingjue bc hes the resident Though Guy but also the most dramatic bitch in this show and thats Saying Something

jin ling cant have one uneventful relative can he

the fact that everyone present already knew “mo xuanyu” was wwx at the stairs is so funny, their faces are like ‘oh............ wow. that. sure is a development. shock” 

in the tradition of extremely loud whispers wwx tells lwj with twelve guards standing like one meter away from them: HEY PSH LAN ZHAN PRETEND IM FORCING YOU TO STAY W ME DO IT

oh my god oh my god

the absolute Yearning on his face when he leaves wwx and a-yuan at the burial mounds and refuses to stay for dinner was already Enough but the fact?? they brought it back?? to this declaration of love?? their expressions??????? strike me dead right now just go ahead

lFor Legal Reasons We Cant Kiss but we will have a very sappy declaration of love and trust and look at each other in way that is the actualization of 💞💘💗💖💓💘💞💗💖💘💗💖💕💞

also icb all the sect leaders and guards are standing there watching them say they like like each other with a dozen swords pointing at their neck

i enjoyed the depiction of the fickle public perception and how easily it can be used to scapegoat people. when the sect leaders turn on jgy and wwx knows thats its more for convenience than anything else...

poor lxc is literally like 'oh so when YOUR problematic boyfriend gets called evil its a misunderstanding but when its MY problematic bf-'

ok like i cant get over nmj let jgy play a song that messed with his temperament at all, like maN u KNEW he might be shady wth

wwx: “hey dont say anything bad abt lan zhan hes not an arrogant dick, thats just his face. 

ME ON THE OTHER HAND"

the cultivators as wwx is poking holes in their narrative is literally *nazaré meme*

"wei wuxian-!" "what did i break your leg, too?" not to be problematic but i laughed so hard

not as hard as "you dont have the rank to talk to me " tho

i Enjoy that, over the course of story, wwx sees that... theres nothing truly to Do, but move on. he saw how his arrogance and his mistakes hurt others, and hes trying to fix what he can, but he already did die for his mistakes and there are things he cant fix and that's. just how it is. even towards jgy, the narrative doesn't go gleefully and completely with "lets make THEM pay bc theyre the big bad" bc its not that simple, and it wouldn't lead anywhere but more pain...

re him and jiang cheng and the wens and kinda. isnt that what nhs did? scheming to displace jgy out of revenge more than any justice and doing so in the most painful way?

idk if that actually makes sense im truly just babbling

i thought the scene at the lotus pond would be CUTE but the context was PAIN again

jiang cheng finding out about his golden core and his conflict with wwx at the guanyin temple .... destroyed me but in a nice way kinda.... same way it destroys him look at his face oh god

and. the fact??? he sacrificed himself for wwx?? first?? and he'll probably never tell anyone much less wwx???? keeps me up at night

i havent decided if the neckbreak transition between jgy does sth super Evil or does he he does OR Does He yes he does O R does heeeee is sth i dislike or not

jin guangyao and wei wuxians most interesting parallel is that... theyve both seen 'hmm hey this system is fucked up' and wwx went 'so fuck it all i will renounce it and challenge it' and jgy went 'so fuck it i will use all of it to my advantage and manipulate it to my goals and whims'

the fact jgys mom was actually great and he loved her and his whole issue w it was more than simply being ashamed of being a bastard kinda got me ngl

never trust a dude with a fan.

nhs and jgy: the first rule to a convoluted and decades spanning violent revenge plot is to have fun and be yourself! 

when a-yuan finally FINALLY remembers ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;-;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; wen ning has someone in his family back and a-yuan has someone to talk abt his wen family and wwx has him back bc he survived and lwj raised him anD HES THEIR SON. THEYRE MARRIED AND HAVE A SON. UGH.

and theyre allowed to heal. everyone is allowed to try and recover and be happy

netflix put all of the 3 endings on top of each other and it looks kinda weird actually BUT I DONT EVEN MIND :’’’’’’’’’)

the gasp that left me when lwj says ‘wei ying’ and wwx turns.........

there was also a screen with ‘thank you mxtx for creating these characters, we hope their wishes come true’ and i might. have cried then too. maybe. 

that was . a ride. as is proven by this behemot of a ramble clearly i just really needed and Outlet. i am currently trying to convince dumb monkey brain to not consume the other medias of mdzs immediately bc i REALLY need to like. live. a life. and take care of real responsibilities.  *longest oh boi ever*

[tanakavox]

A look into the multiverse chapter 8 SAOA

Many thanks to my friend friend @bssaz97 for his work on the reactions. And TheGoldenBoy2188 for the strict for SAOA making writing easy. The next reaction will be a suprise so stay tune.

Amidst the streets of Mantle, Whitley Schnee walked towards a destination while wearing a disguise consisting of a coat, scarf, shaded glasses, and a flat cap. He had a mission and he would not waste this opportunity!

It was not every day that he could simply leave the manor without Father's permission or notice so he needed to be quick but not noticeable. He had waited months for this day to arrive. Whitley had pre-ordered the latest MMO game of his favorite game series a week before the initial release date and had come to pick it up. Having connections in the right places certainly did have its benefits. The only downside was he had to acquire his prize somewhere outside of his father's notice. So what other place to go than Atlas's sister kingdom.

Outside of his notice, a young white haired faunus woman with sheep ears followed close behind him. Fiona Thyme was out picking up some food for the rest of the Happy Huntresses when she noticed an unfamiliar person walking around. She knew almost everyone on this side of Mantle, so a new person popping out of the blue was very suspicious. Normally she would have reported this back to Robyn but upon further inspection she recognized who this person was.

It was the sole son of the worst man on Remnant and the newly appointed heir of the Schnee Dust Company, Whitley Schnee! Why was he here in Mantle?! Fiona determined he was up to no good and decided to follow him. Wherever the SDC goes, trouble usually follows!

Whitley finally arrived at the destination he was seeking… the Post Office! Now all he had to do was open the door, enter the establishment aaaaaand- stare dumbfounded as the inside of this place was a theatre.

"What the-? This isn't the post office. Where am I?!" Whitley shouted at no one in particular.

"Ah-ha! Caught you right where I- Huh? Where the hell? This isn't the post office!" Fiona also dumbfounded.

"Whitley?" Both Weiss and Winter stated in a mix of shock and disbelief at seeing their little brother. Maybe some hostility on Weiss part.

"Weiss? Winter? How-?"

"What the hell is this?!" A loud female voice shouted as four more people arrived out of nowhere. Consisting of two normal sized humans, a bunny faunus and a very large man.

"Coco/Velvet/Fox/Yatsuhashi!" Teams RWBY and JNR said collectively.

"Oh hello everyone! This… is a surprise! When did you get to Vacuo?" Velvet asked the group.

Fiona turned towards the new strangers, "Vacuo? What are you talking about? You're all in Mantle?"

"I'm most certain we're in Vacuo at the time." Yatsu spoke.

"You are in neither at the moment." Ozpin spoke up.

"What the- Teach? Weren't you supposed to be dead?!" Coco confusingly points out.

"I believe an explanation is in order."

*One short but informative explanation later*

"Wait so we were brought here to watch… alternate realities?" Fiona says after she and all the new arrivals had been told everything about the theater.

"We call them viewings but yeah pretty much." Ruby said.

"Hold on, I can understand why all of you were brought here, seeing as you all are huntsmen and huntresses. But that doesn't explain why I'm here." Whitley, having taken off his disguise.

"A great question indeed." Weiss mutters.

"I think I have a theory." Blake stepped forward. "So far now, I've noticed that the people who are here have at least some involvement in the viewings that we have been seeing. Remember that one viewing we saw of Whitley being stuck inside a video game?"

"I was stuck in a video game?"

"Also if you die in the game you die for real." Nora added.

Whitley's eyes widened at the implications.

"Well you're still stuck as far as we know. But apparently you're very good at the game so you might be fine." Jaune clarifies. Slightly feeling guilty that his alternate is the one who traps him there.

"Oh joy, now I'm trapped inside a place against my will in two realities!" Whitley throws his hands in frustration.

"Oh boo hoo! Is the rich boy gonna cry because nothings going his way today?" Fiona says in a mocking tone.

"Oh I'm sure you would know so much about crying and complaining about trivial things, thief." He shot back at Fiona.

"At least I think about the people of Mantle! When was the last time you thought of someone outside of yourself, Schnee!" Fiona retorted.

Winter sensing that this conversation was going nowhere stepped in between her brother and the happy huntress.

"Enough! None of us came here by choice so let's just stop this pointless arguing and move on."

Fiona huffed, "I couldn't agree more." She stomped away from the two siblings and found herself a seat in the theater.

Winter sighed, "It may not be ideal but as long as you are here Whitley, I would just suggest sitting tight and wait until you or all of us are able to leave this place."

"Hmph, very well. Thank you sister, it almost sounds like you care." Whitley took his leave and found a seat that was about four seats away from Weiss's team.

"Isn't there anywhere else you want to sit," Weiss practically hisses.

"Oh but Weiss it's the only seat that's close enough to you." Whitley affirmed.

Weiss groans in frustration, 'Hopefully it's only for one viewing…'

An acoustic guitar plays in the background as a montage of the events of and post-Episode 1 appears on the screen and a narrator began to talk.

" A month had passed since that fateful day. When everyone's world got all twisted, leaving them stranded in a castle in the sky. Since then, 2000 poor souls came to an abrupt and tragic end. Some by bad luck, others by sheer stupidity. I mean, really. Why would you just stand in fire? Anyways, that didn't bother The Kid none. He only cared about one thing, and one thing alone. Himself. 'Cuz in a game of life or death, you either live... or you die."

The scene transitions to Shirou leaning against a wall with an annoyed look on his face.

"What?! Two thousand of the players have died already!" Ruby yelled, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Not surprising, seeing as many of them looked weak last viewing." Cinder coolly replies.

Many huntsmen and huntresses glared at the red clad woman. She paid them no mind.

"Well thank you very much Narrator, you're doing a wonderful job of explaining the total death count of this video game prison." Whitley commented dryly.

"Oh, WOW. What brilliant insight! It's so deep it loops right back around to being stupid." Shirou snarked.

"The Kid ranted at no one, it slowly dawning just how alone he truly was" Narrator continued..

Whitley's eyes narrowed, "Am I being sassed by the narrator?"

"Maybe you said something to piss them off." Fiona added.

"Wait, what was that?" Shirou asks, shocked.

"He asked the sky, like a preacher to his silent gods."

"What gods? What are you talking about?! It's all bullshit metaphors with you!"

"He cried, not knowing the difference between a simile and a metaphor. The tininess of his brain dwarfed only by the tininess of his di-"

Whitley's eyes narrowed and face twitched at how much of an annoyance this narrator was being.

Weiss was doing her best to conceal her smile but was failing and breathes out a laugh. She was enjoying the exchange that her brother was going through and found it amusing. Her team gave her a side glance while Fiona and a few others laughed at the roast session the young Schnee was being given.

"Narrator off." Shirou commands the system with an annoyed tone.

"YOUCANSILENCEMEBUTYOUCAN'TSILENCETHETRU-" The narrator got cut off.

"Dick."

"Thank gods that's over, that narrator was extremely rude." Whitley sighed thankfully now that the narrator was silenced.

Weiss and Fiona grumbled that their fun was ruined.

Fade into December 2, 2022, on a strategy meeting led by man called Diabel. He gave a big smiled out to the crow

"Hey everyone. Thank you all for coming to our little powwow. Now, I know many of you may be discouraged by the fact that 2000 people have died so far."

" WHAT?!" A player screamed

" 2000 PEOPLE ARE DEAD?!" Another screamed.

"IT HASN'T EVEN BEEN A MONTH YET!"

"OH MY GOD, WE REALLY ARE FUCKED!"

"Pretty much, sucks to be you!" Mercury laughed.

"These are the people that have to survive this game. Honestly what was blondie expecting," Emerald facepalms.

"Hey! Just because they've lost numbers doesn't mean that they have to lose hope!" Ruby glared at the two assassins.

"And I know even more of you are a little down because we haven't even cleared the First Floor yet." Diabel added, trying to keep the smile on his face.

"WE HAVEN'T?!"

"I THOUGHT WE WERE ALMOST DONE...!"

"You were saying." Cinder looked back at Ruby.

"Well…" Ruby trailed off, thinking of a way to defend these players.

Diabel's smile wavered

"Uh, you guys do know there are 100 Floors, right?"

"WHAT?!" A crowd of players yelled.

Diabels sighed a bit.

Ruby, despite her best attempts, also sighed and sat back down.

"Oh jeez, I am just making things worse. Point is, we found the Boss Room!"

The crowd gasps.

"Now, we've formulated a few strategies with some help from the beta testers-"

"BETA TESTERS?!" A voice yells out.

"Oh goddammit!" Diabel groaned argnily

A player named Kibaou jumps in.

Kibaou, what do you want? Diabel looked tired addressing this player.

"Beta testers? They're the reason we're stuck in this game!" Kibaoyu sneered

Many that heard this player's statement and quickly frowned at his blatant accusations towards these 'beta-testers.'

"This guy can't be serious, right?" Coco stated.

Dianel looked at Kibaou flatterausted at the stupidity of the statement he heard

"What?! Do you have any evidence to back that up?"

Kiabrou scoffed at the question. "Pfft! Evidence. I don't need no evidence. Isn't that right, Jesus?" He points to a player named "Jesus"

" It's pronounced "Hey-Zeus", and I don't know you."

"Wow, really selling your reasoning by having no one else to support your claim." Jaune stated while crossing his arms.

"Well, they still should have helped us newbies!" He exclaimed

"If I might interject...:" A deep voice called out.

A big muscular man gets up and comes to the stage.

Velvet taps Yatsu's arm excitedly, "Hey you're in this game too Yatsu! …oh gods you're in this game too."

"So it seems," Yatsu, doing his best to keep a straight face.

Coco lowered her shades along with a confused look. As far as she knew, Velvet was the only one who played video games on their team. Unless...

"And who the hell are you?!"

"I am known by many names.", "Closed eyed demon. The memory easer., "Hooked clawed tiger". But you? You may call me... "Velvet".

"Velvet huh? That's a... pretty masculine name." Kibaoru said adwarkley

"Shouldn't be. It's a woman's name." Velvet replied casually.

"Damn it. I had a feeling but I didn't want to be right." Coco cursed quietly while shaking her head.

"Wait, why would Yatsu have a character named after me? That doesn't- ...Oh ...oh my gods." Velvet's eyes widened at the implications, tears starting to build. That is until she felt a nudge on one of her shoulders. She turned her head and there was Yatsuhashi looking at Velvet with a gaze that said, 'It's not your fault.'

"Kay, I don't know how to talk to you."

"Good. Then you can shut up and listen. Does everyone here have this book in their inventory?"

" Yeah.

" Yes."

"Yup."

"Yeah."

" No... Wait, can I change my answer?"

Velvet/Yatsushi held up a book to show to everyone.

" This book is full of tips and strategies on how to survive this game, put together by the beta testers. Everyone read it, yet some people still died. The beta testers did everything they could."

"Yeah, that means Mace Hair has no reason to blame the beta testers!" Ruby points out.

Many of her friends nodded and Yastu's team smiled at the sound defense his alternate presented.

" Actually, I didn't read it." One player chimed up.

"Yeah, I didn't read it either."

"I skimmed it."

"OH COME ON!" Many members of the audience shouted in agitation.

"What? Didn't ANY of you read it?! It is literally a matter of life and death." Velvet exclaimed

"Well, dude. It's like 80 pages." A player pointed

"2000 people are dead!"

"THEY ARE?!"

"Again. These are the people that have to survive this game." Emerald reiterates.

Brief pause. Shirou looks shocked at their stupidity.

"I am so done with you people." Velvet mutters, walking off the stage.

" What do you mean "you people"?" A player asked a bit offended.

The Faunus in the room narrowed at their eyes at the implications made by that player.

"What do you mean, "you people"?" Fiona asks no one in particular.

Velvet and Kibaou take their seats.

Diabel continued with the meeting. "So, as Mister Hooked clawed tiger was saying, this book has some great strategies, including how to beat the First Boss, Illfang."

He clears his throat and starts reading from the guide.

"So as you enter the Boss Room, he's gonna throw wave after wave of disposable minions at you... and you must answer in kind."...?

"Uh, what?" A player asks, mirroring Diabel confusion.

Many in the audience reacted just as confused. All except Whitley, who had a good feeling where this was going.

Diabel continues

"Send the weaker players first. Good rule of thumb: If a player asks you for gold 2 seconds after meeting you, front lines."

"Ha, serves 'em right!" Kiaboru said with a laugh

"If they hijack conversations to rant about their political views, front lines."Diabel said with a smirk looking at Kiaboru.

Kibaou went pale. "Aw, shit."

"Ha! Serves you right!" Nora laughed.

"If they ask female players for pics of their boobs, front lines."

"OH BULLSHIT!" One player screamed out in rage.

"THAT'S DISCRIMINATION!" Another one howled.

"BOO!"

Many of the women in the theater frown at the way those players reacted. Winter was more than certain that those players were the type that participated in the mentioned acts the speaker spoke on.

Diabel smiles and waves them down. "Now, now, people. I think there are some valid points being made here. Now, it goes on to say when Illfang's health goes into the red, he's going to switch from his axe and buckler to something called a "Talwar". At that point we should initiate a strategy called "The Final Solution" and- I'm just gonna stop reading! Jesus, who wrote this thing?"

Shirou giggles evilly.

"Of course Whitley wrote that book." Weiss sighed.

"Why sister, it sounds like that didn't surprise you in the least." Whitley pretending to act hurt.

"Please. The manipulative tone of the text almost makes one sound too much like you." Weiss bit back.

"Well I suppose you would know." A wide smile on Whitley's face.

Weiss scoffs turning her head away from her traitorous brother.

Team R_BY and Winter watched the exchange and sighed.

"Okay, so the guide's a bust. But it'll be fine. I'll come up with a great plan for us." Diabel smiles at the crowed.

"Like what?"

" Well... we... could... Uh... Uhhhh... I'm open to suggestions."

"Woah, guys, we could- we could, you know, like, group up and-"

"And hit it 'til it DIES!" Another yelled finishing the other player sentence

"Woo, nice!"

"Yeah!"

" High five!"

The two hive five.

"Well. It's something, right?." Velvet does her best to be optimistic.

Many of the more experienced members of the theater shake their heads.

"That's... a good start. But let's hear some other suggestions."

"I'd like to hear more about this "Final Solution"." A player in a german accent piped up.

"Fuck it, group up." said Diabel said tirely.

Shirou slides down the seats towards a girl, named Fiona, who's on her own.

Fiona blinks in surprise, "Oh my gods, that's me! I'm in the game! Hey other me, stay away from the Schnee!"

"You have my condolences." Weiss says to the sheep faunus.

"So, why aren't, uh, you joining anyone's group?" Shirou asked.

"I have my reasons." She said mysterioly

" Is it because you're a girl?"

"No. It's because... I don't know how to play."

"Because you're a girl?"

Many of the females and males who enjoy video games, such as Yang, Ruby, Velvet, Nora,, Jaune, Oscar, Ren, surprisingly Mercury and Emerald, along with Fiona herself, threw questioning glares towards the current heir of the SDC. Weiss and Winter glared at him as well but for other reasons.

Whitley looks around to see all the glares directed towards him. "Why are you all looking at me? I said nothing."

"No!" Fiona snapped. "It's just... I don't know how to open the menu."

"What?" Both Fiona and Whitley asked.

"Jinx!" Nora shouts.

"What?!" Shriou looked at the girl in shock. "But you can't do anything in this game without the menu. How have you survived all month?"

Cut to Fiona holding a piece of bread. She is staring at it intensely. "HOW DO I EAT YOU?!" She screamed at it.

Many laughs were had at the poor girl's predicament, despite some of them doing their best to not do so but could not help themselves.

Fiona slowly sank into her chair, covering her face in shame. Her alternate was the utter definition of a newb player.

Back to the present.

"It's... been a challenge…" She muttered before looking at Shirou. "What about you? Why haven't you join the others?"

"Oh, lots of reasons. Mostly because they're a bunch of mouth-breathing neckbeards who think "LMAO" is how French people laugh."

" Ha ha, that's so Le Mao!" Said one player far away causing to Shirou shudder.

Whitley in the theater also shudders in disgust. If these were the people that he would have been surrounded by inside the game, then he too would have avoided them like a plague.

"Wow. You certainly... speak from the heart."

"Funny, I thought I was speaking from my mouth. But, eh, shows what I know about biology." He said with a smirk.

"No one else wanted you in their group, did they?"

"Shut up! It was mutual!"

"And who would blame me? Have you seen the players of this game? I'm honestly surprised they lived this long."

"You're just saying that 'cause no one wanted a smartass on their team." Fiona smirked.

"I'm sorry, were you speaking Menu Girl?" Whitley nonchalantly retorts.

Fiona's face grew red in embarrassment and agitation. She wanted nothing more than to raise her hand and activate her semblance right now. 'Give me a reason Schnee, I dare you.'

It cuts back to Diabel smiling and clapping his hands.

"Alright, looks like everyone's grouped up. Get plenty of rest tonight, people! We leave at noon!"

A player groans "Noon?"

"That's so early!"

Diabel sighs. "Alright. What about 1 o'clock?"

" Dude, come on!"

" God, fine! We leave at the crack of... 2:30, I guess. Lazy butts…"

"Christ, I'm gonna have to set my alarm."

Everyone in the theater did not have high expectations for these players as they would face their first challenge.

Cuts to December 3, 2022 Floor 1: Illfang's Tower, 7:30pm. Everyone's at the Boss Door and everyone except Diabel is exhausted.

"Okay, so there were a few more stairs than we realized. Apparently real life athletic ability translates into the game. Good to know." Diabel looked out to the sad sight in front of him.

"Oh, god. I can feel my lungs trying to kill me." One player whined.

" Is this sweat?!"

" I peed a little."

" Jesus, this is sad." Diabel said with a grimace.

One player vomits.

"Congrats Jaune, someone else has now become the new Vomit Boy of this viewing!" Yang exclaimed.

Jaune rolled his eyes at her attempt at making him feel better.

"Fuck it. Why don't you all just take a Cheetos and Mountain Dew break, and we'll reconvene in an hour."

1960 Batman-Esque transition with Cheetos and Mountain Dew.

" Dammit, guys! I was kidding! You weren't supposed to actually take an hour!" Dibal said in a rage."God, we've lost so much time. Let's just do this already! You all know the plan!"

Illfang jumps into the center of the room and roars. Kobolds pop in, and an error message pops up on the third one that says "Error: "Sentinel_ " not found."

Ruby and Nora laughed at the mob that got glitched.

"Alright, men!" Diabel began,"Form up and-"

"EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" A player screams

The armies converge on each other.

"Are they serious! You can't just go gung-ho in a boss battle!" Jaune exclaimed at the increasingly apparent, dim-witted players.

"What?! No! Goddammit guys!" Diabel begins to bark out orders. "Squad B, quit attacking the Boss and keep the Sentinels off us! C, D, stop attacking from the front! Do you even know what "flank" means?! Squad F, for fuck's sake! Stop playing Bejeweled! *Groans* Squad G, get in there and help A and B!"

"Got it!" Shirou said with a nod rushing in.

"Don't talk back to…" Diabel did a double take."l Holy shit, really?!"

"How is Whitley the most sensible minded player in this game?!" Weiss asked.

"Weiss, have you seen the other players?" Blake asked her in a deadpanned tone.

"...Yes you're right, that's actually too much of an insult." Weiss admits.

Shirou attacks a Sentinel, leaving Fiona to finish it off.

"Okay, Fiona! What you're gonna wanna do here is-"

Fiona lets out a Battle Cry and kills the Sentinel in one hit.

Fiona in the theater perked up at this display, "Oh my- I can fight! Oh thank gods I can fight!"

Shirou eyes widened in shock "Wow, I thought she was hopeless, but her technique is flawless. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's even better than I-"

"Hey Shirou! I killed the thing and now it says I have XPs! Is that bad? Am I dying?! Fiona cried out to him in fear."

Shirou rolls his eyes"Or... maybe... not."

"Miss Fiona, either your alternate is very lucky or is very out of base with technology. I can't tell which it is." Whitley stated.

"Shut up Schnee, she's trying!" Fiona defends her other self.

Illfang's health drops into the red. He snarls at the players and he tosses his weapons.

"Alright, men! This last part's gonna take careful coordination…" Diabel ran towards Illfang. "which is why I'm just gonna do it myself!"

Diabel charges his weapon art. Illfang draws his Ōdachi.

Ruby's eyes widened, "OH NO!"

Shirou looked and saw the weapon and his eyes widened calling to Diabel. "Oh shit! Diabel, look out! That's not a Talwar! It's an Ōdachi!"

"What's the difference?!" Diabel ask still running towards Illfang.

"Well, a Talwar is of Indian descent while an Ōdachi is Japanese! While both are primarily slashing weapons, the Talwar was favored by cavalrymen, as opposed to an Ōdachi which was mainly used for dick measuring!" As Shirou is talking, Illfang starts jumping off the walls.

" What's your point?!" Diabel asked impaintely.

"Well if you let me finish, I was getting to that! You see…"

Diabel gets hit by Illfang, screaming in pain.

Many of the huntsmen and huntresses in the theater either gasped in fear or looked away at the surely doomed player.

"What's happening? Did I miss something?" Fox called out.

"Oops." Shirou sheepishly said.

Illfang hits Diabel again, sending him flying.

"DIABEL!" Kibaou yelled out.

Illfang pops down in front of Kibaou and roars. A message pops up "Bonus Item: Soiled Pants". Above Kibaou

"Hey, rare drop!' A player said cheerfully.

Mercury laughed at the joke while most of the others were disgusted by the fact that that achievement was unlockable.

Shirou runs over to Diabel and holds him up.

" I was trying to say an Ōdachi's a little bit longer than a Talwar, so it'll have more reach and do a bit more damage."

"And why couldn't you say that first?" Diabel asked weakly

"Yeah you dummy! You almost might've killed him!" Ruby cries out.

Whitley was actually taken aback by that statement. Sure he had moments of pride and arrogance, sometimes he looked down on people but he didn't believe he would ever intentionally kill someone.

" I like to think of myself as a teacher. Anyway, drink this."

Shirou tries to give Diabel a healing potion but he stopped Shirou shaking his head.

"No. It's better this way. I just can't do it anymore. I had such high hopes at first. But now? Our best player is a girl who thinks DPS is some kind of sex thing." Both turned to glance to Fiona.

"I know. It's weird, right?"

Fiona sulked more into her chair.

"You're clearly not like the rest of them. How do you stand it, Shirou? Where do you draw your strength?" Diabel look at Shirou like a sage.

Shirou sigh and drops his wisdom onto him. "I've been playing MMO's a long time, Diabel, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that lions do not concern himself with the opinions of sheep. Just take that little voice in your head that tells you to be tactful and understanding... and shoot it. Shoot it in the goddamn face."

" You are so wise. If only I'd met you sooner. Perhaps, things would have been different. You must lead them now. Show them this game can be beaten." Diabel let's go of Shirou wrist.

Weiss was taken aback that this man was actually willing to place trust in this alternate of her brother. This stranger who barely even knows him placed the lives of all the players into his hands. Much like how she tried to trust Whitley once… this caused a bitter frown to grow on her face in recollection. Even if this was a different version of him, it was still Whitley in her eyes.

Shirou smiles fondly at Diabel. "Another life... in another time... I think we could have been friends."

"I... doubt it." Diabel gasps out before turning to shattered glass, dying.

" Well fuck you, too!" Shirou said angrily his smile dropping into a frown.

Fiona slips in by Shirou's side and began to lay out a plan.

"Alright, Shirou. Here's what we'll do. One counters his blows to knock him off balance and the other switches in to attack. Rinse. Repeat. Victory."

Shirou looked at her with one eye. "You came up with that, but you can't open a menu."

"Shut up!" Fiona cried out.

Illfang roars and they take off running toward him.

"Alright, so you counter and I'll attack!" Shirou yelled to Fiona.

"What? No, it's my plan! I should attack!" Fiona yelled back.

"Fine, just get ready!"

Shirou makes a battle cry and counters Illfang's attack.

"SWITCH!"

Fiona moves in and gets her cloak destroyed by Illfang before attacking revealing white curly hair and sheep ears.

" See? You almost got yourself killed! I'll attack him!" Shirou yelled again and began to attack Illfang.

"Oh, that was a fluke, and you know it! He's mine!" Fiona yelled back.

Fiona attacks Illfang.

"Oh shit. They're actually giving that boss the work!" Coco called out.

"He's mine!" Shirou yelled.

Shirou blocks Illfang's next attack, but Fiona attacks him before Shirou can do so himself.:

"Mine!" Fiona screams

"NO! HE'S! MIIIIIIIIIIINE!"

Shirou slices Illfang and he explodes. Everyone is stunned. Lame party kazoo sound effect and a banner with the word "CONGRATULATION" appears.

"Yeah!" A player cheer.

This caused almost everyone in the audience to laugh. Despite the dark humor of it all, it was still pretty hilarious.

"What happened? Did they win?" Fox asks

"Oh yes, I'm sorry Fox! They beat the boss and a victory banner came out."

"...heh." Fox chuckled.

Shirou is panting. He gets an item as a reward for defeating the Boss.

"Congratulations!" Velvet said, patting him on the back. "That was even more impressive than that cat that learned to play."

Cut to a player with a cat's head, with another player staring at it.

"Meow."

"Huh what did you know?" Yang replied.

"Oh my god! You guys can see it too?! So I'm not crazy! Isn't that great, Jesus?!" We see things from the players' perceptive, with a giant hallucination of Jesus Christ looming over the crowd.

"That's right, Jeffrey. Now... kill them all." Jesus said, his voice growing darker.

"As you command, my Lord." Jeffrey whispered.

"Somethings very wrong with that guy." Qrow states.

"I honestly agree with you, Branwen… Blegh! That left a horrible taste in my mouth." Winter stated.

Cut back to Velvet talking to Shirou. The other players are applauding his victory.

"You've led us to victory, Shirou. These men and I will follow you to hell itself. Now... address your people." Velvet is smiling and pushing Shirou to the crowd.

Shirou gets up and smirks. "I always knew this day would come. Ahem. Fellow gamers! We have traveled far and up many stairs to get to this point. Fighting side by side, noobs, and leets, alike. I'd like to take a moment to say that I couldn't have done it without the help of each and every one of you."

"Aw, that's a nice thing to say-" Velvet was cut off when Shirou counties.

"Of course, I'm not a liar, so I'm not gonna say any of that."

"Oh shit."

"I thought as much." Weiss states.

Shirou grins look at the group. "I mean, really. I could've done this whole Boss Fight myself. But to be fair, I guess you did absorb a bit of damage for me, which was nice. You were an adequate meat shield, and no one can ever take that away from you."

"Fuck. Fuck! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Velvet started to say.

"So for those of you who came in late, and that one guy playing Bejeweled back there... shoot for the stars... it'll make it more fun when I kick you back into the dirt."

"You're not better than us!" Kiaboru said.

"Yeah! What makes you think you're so cool?!" Nora shouts to the screen.

Shirou equips the coat he got for beating Illfang and smugly looks at the group."My sweet-ass coat begs to differ."

"Dammit, he's got us there." one player muttered.

Shirou ascends the stairs out of the Boss Room. Fiona follows him and grabs him by the shoulder. "Shirou, wait!"

Those in the audience looked on at Fiona's alternate in hope. Surely she could turn him around after their excellent display of partnership.

"I want half." She said, staring at him blankly.

That hope was quickly squashed, shot at, and finally burned to death via gasoline and cracking a fire dust crystal.

Shirou turns to her confused. " I'm... sorry. What?!"

"I want half the coat. I did half the work, I should get half the coat." Fiona explain and extends her hand for him give it to her.

"No! It's not fabric I can cut! It's just a bunch of 1s and 0s!" Shirou was getting frustrated.

"Fine, then give me the 1s."

" Fuck you! I want the 1s!" He groans and open the menu. "I am not having this argument. I'm disolving this party." Shirou opens his menu and "Di-solves" their party.

"Shirou! If you walk away with my half of the coat, I will make your life a living hell!" Fiona screamed.

"You know what? Fine! I'll give you the damn coat! Just send me a trade request."

"A... what?"

Fiona's eyes widened as she watched from the theater, "No…"

Shirou grins viciously "Oh, it's quite simple really... Just open your menu." Shirou starts laughing maniacally as he walks out the doors as Fiona screams at him:"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" At him.

Outro Plays.

Fiona screams, "I can't believe the nerve of that-! GRAAAAH!"

"Can you please stop screaming! You're going to cause everyone's ears to bleed." Whitley said while using a handkerchief to rub his ears.

Fiona huffed then matched off, going to another place in the theater.

"Well that was interesting. So you all say there's other viewings where we see other worlds besides this one." Coco asked the group.

"Oh yeah, we've seen a couple worlds ourselves, but only a handful I'd say." Yang admits.

"Well as long as we're here, we might as well take time to catch up." Velvet smiled.

"Yeah, this will be great! It's almost like we're back at Beacon, right Weiss? ...Weiss?" Ruby looks beside her but noticed that her partner was not with them anymore.

In another side of the theater, the all three Schnee siblings stand together. Both of the youngest siblings look at Winter who brought them here.

Winter clears her throat, "I understand that there are some… tension between the three of us during this viewing. So I asked you both here so that we may come to terms with our situation."

Weiss scoffs, "Come to terms with him! I highly doubt that."

Whitley crosses his arms, "Yes it does seem like a lost cause Winter."

"Enough! Both of you!" Winter raised her voice causing both of her younger siblings to go rigid. "I'm not expecting you to get along or even apologize to each other at the moment. What I ask is if you two can at least act civil with one another while in the theater?"

Both Weiss and Whitley looked at each other and sneered at each other.

"Why of course I can be civil with Whitley. It is a virtue of a lady to be civil at all times." Weiss said with hidden venom.

"Quite true, but being civil is also a quality an heir of the Schnee family must cultivate as well. So I look forward to spending this immeasurable amount of time with you my sisters." Whitley said with his best presentable smile.

"Yes, how I enjoy us taking this time to reacquaint with each other." Weiss said while one of her eyes was twitching.

"Well then sister, shall we?" Whitley gestured for Weiss to go ahead of him. Almost would have been believable if one did not notice the glint in his eyes and his strained smile.

Winter watched as both Weiss and Whitley walked back to the auditorium where everyone else had remained.

"...This can only end badly."

Hope you enjoyed.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Croatia brings no men in a hamster wheel to Rotterdam 2021

Now could this be the teddy bear uprising invasion Muse has warned us about 12 years ago?

And LITERALLY, these review series make me feel like Croatia is openly taunting me - I watch the days go, I’m losing track of time, and when another day comes, I’m screaming “oh no I forgot to publish a review sooner than wanted!!”. Guess I’m for one glad there’s a time related song this year, hum?

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Repping the Adriatic coast nation that got all the sea instead of Bosnia & Herzegovina is some 22 year old Albina Grčić, who first popped up on X Factor Adria back when that was a thing, and got lumped into a girlgroup in later stages, but to that she said “hvala ne” and moved on with her life, getting eliminated just like that. Queen <3 She did get her second chance to compete as a soloist and make a more prominent mark on her career when she ended up on The Voice in Croatia. She did well, placing third overall in the season, but somehow, during the duel stage, her coach initially favoured her fellow Dora 2021 contestant Filip Rudan:

Her Voice success landed her a record deal with the Croatian division of Universal Music, she released a debut single, sometime later ended up on Dora, and here she is now, on Eurovision.

“Tick-Tock” is the song, a standard upbeat pop song, and one of the ones that talks about a girl leaving a terrible relationship and being so well over it that she “found [her]self and [she’s] finally free”, and the “tick-tock” here is used to represent the time passing by, not the sound of her heart, unlike a fellow ESC entry of a similar title. The tune (or its lyrics only) is co-authored by some dude you might’ve heard of from France’s 2018 preselection Destination Eurovision, and that is Max Cinnamon - some half-English guy with a half English song about love (”Ailleurs”) that did moderately averagely in the final... I don’t even know if his influence shows, I just love how 2021 has sort of become revenge of the NF flops but they’re writing other entries instead (Suzi P, “Adrenalina”).

REVIEW

I often don’t really fully vibe with female bops in Eurovision as much as I want to, like, for the most part they’re overhyped, and I let the “yass queeeeen” audience gorge on the everything their favourite bops give them. But this year there are plenty of great ones to choose from, as I think that it’s safe to say that most, if not all, are tucked in somewhere inside my top 20, top 25 at the very minimum. Croatia managed to even do the impossible and land into my top 10.

Why?

Well, the answer is that the song is just so damn good.

I mean, what’s NOT to like about it? It’s a catchy and upbeat song that incorporates xylophones (or whatever is it that sounds like them), guitars and synths; has a good bassline in the chorus; and it’s just... a very good composition overall, like, all the instruments in it are just in their right place and uplift the song massively. I also like Albina’s performance on it, both live and studio, it clearly shows that she’s a very good singer (also shown on her cover of the scandalous Oscar award snubbery “Husavik”). Sounds like a song a common pop loving Eurofan could gear themselves towards. Besides, it also has possibly my favourite pre-chorus section of the 2021 year? Oh wait, there’s also Switzerland, scratch that. “Tick-Tock” has one of my favourite pre-chorus sections of 2021. It builds up so well instrumentally and the way Albina sings it is even better. I obviously like to believe Albina heard those voices from far away that helped her to escape, has found herself, and she’s finally free from her “partner’s” bad lovin’ and restraint. Yas queen go be free you didn’t deserve his tomfoolery anyway!  👏 (Also I admire a section that’s not quite the pre-chorus but is still before the 1st chorus, the one that goes “If you pull me down then I'll come around” - literally just a lot of the parts of the song are full of nice vocal performance and I don’t regret ranking this in my top 10 not a second.)

If it has any drawbacks, it’s just that it gets a tad too repetitive after the halfway mark... like, the pre-chorus before the second chorus is the one to be repeated once again, and no new verse, nothing - but it does launch itself into something extraordinary, and that is a chorus in Croatian, which I assume she would perform in Eurovision because there’s no Eurovision version on the song promo bundle, I suppose. Comparatively the Croatian chorus is not as complex in lyrics as the English language one, and flows slightly differently too. But the song still has a long chorus by the end, and song with too many choruses is never a good sign for those that look for a song that’s constructed well, but I guess it’s a good factor for those that value the song’s catchiness. I guess that’s what one of the two Eurovision 2005 hosts valued the most when writing the Ukrainian 2006 entry “Show Me Your Love”, which if you ask me, is straight up 75% chorus, lol.

So yeah my verdict is that almost everything about this song, I like. I’m just a little devastated that in a usually very easily gorged on category of female bops, this just tends to lag behind in love, like a fellow song I really like this year, Israel. Instead people tend to prioritize Cyprus (which I get because they’ve established themselves as a girlbanger nation since Fuego swept Eurovision) and... probably even Azerbaijan? (which I might also get because Eurovision rarely has this thing called an ethnobop anymore, and it has more ethno than “Cleopatra” did, but still unnecessarily underwhelming lol.) Well then, in a year of female bangers, I would just like Croatia to not be swept under the rug come semis I guess. Yeah “Tick-Tock” may not sound like it brings something totally never seen before in a Eurovision environment (foreign language lyrics, themes about a break up, hell even her dancers looked like they were wearing the same hats as Tamta’s dancers), but you got to have a lot in you to sell a worn out idea to the new heights, and Albina does exactly that in my eyes.

Approval factor: Yeah! There is a lot of it in here for me. Follow-up factor: A great follow-up, not so great in regards to panini but musically it’s just going up and up from what we had in the past few years. I’ve actually not minded “The Dream” for the most part but I knew it was a chanceless plodding ballad and Roko harboured heaps of wasted potential working with Jacques Houdek and having wings as part of his performance, uff. *_* And then there’s “Divlji vjetre” which I also like a lot - a much better male ballad winner choice! If the Dora re-up winners keep being decent imo just like this, I have a feeling I will follow it a lot more often than I did just this one time this year. I am just saying that panini-wise, it was a sucky move from HRT for not allowing their last year’s winner promote his new song with Tijana (from Serbia 2017) on the Dora night, so we sadly only heard a pre-recorded opening version of “Divlji vjetre” to start off with :( Otherwise I think it’s not Dora’s fault in itself that Damir himself chose not to even submit an entry this year because he hadn’t found a good one - much like with Diodato for Sanremo (he was NOT rejected, if you think he still was, shush). But aside that, musically, it just keeps going up for me. Well done Croatia, for you’ve used to be a Eurovision country I don’t necessarily care about, that you brought two pretty damn good entries in a row. Qualification factor: I can absolutely trust in Albina bringing in a little bit of her charisma and well-likedness, and on top of that, a great vocal performance, in Rotterdam. Don’t ask me why, I just do. She doesn’t really perform her song live on pre-parties as much as I’d like to hope she would, but you heard girlie on the national selection, she didn’t win for nothing. Yeah yeah there might as well be female uptempo songs hungrier for the last spot, but I’d like to think Albina is one of the ones ready to devour than to be devoured. Go girl! Take us all dancing!

NF CORNER

To be honest with you, “Tick-Tock” winning Dora caught me by surprise. Ever since its re-up, the last two editions were kind of won by male ballads, and maaaaybe the dancey females were doing moderately well enough for themselves, but not overall? But look, juries were very keen on Albina, probably because she can SANG and she creates one hell of a fancy presence on her performance. And somehow she ended up snatching a win out of the hands of 5G conspiracy theorist 2016 representative Nina Kraljić, who was at first too drunk to care, but too unexpectedly sober to yell all over the soc. media how she was robbed and how the contest was rigged against her with her being on first and all that. Which is a shame that she is one of THOSE people, because her NF entry “Rijeka” is kinda nice? We did have the Balkan-esque ballads coming from Croatia in recent memory, but we haven’t had a truly proudly folksy one at that from Croatia for a long while, if not ever. Nina could’ve very well brought that to Rotterdam (and another mismatched wardrobe choice oops). But instead she was the one screaming “oh no, oh no, oh no”.

Actually I regarded Nina as one of my faves pre-show, and Albina was on her way, though she didn’t really cement the personal fav status until after all performances, thus making Nina and Albina switch spots for me. But truly, the one song that was my top favourite, iiiiiiiiiiis

GIMME AN OCEAN! OF LOVE!

2021 made me realize that damn, maybe anything that’s funky is my favourite music genre afterall. Up until then I vibed with entries like “Tonight Again” and “What’s the Pressure?” that had this sort of energetic flair and very rhythmic kinda sound to it, but 2021 just simply cemented it to me that my music world has probably been about nice and smooth and funky all along. I owe so much gratitude to ToMa first and foremost along the lines of more to have come in this year’s lineups - I just can’t not want to dance to “Ocean of Love”, and ToMa is quite alright at selling it live as well. There are small gripes with some instrument usages but that doesn’t detract from the fact that I love love LOVE funky guitar tunes.

Aside from that, I can give shout outs to Beta Sudar, whose song not only was underrated, but also had an underrated meme format throughout its performance:

My other props go to Bernarda, who not only competed in a national selection singing a song about seeing “Colors” while blind (and ironically there was a song called “Blind” in that same NF sung by a well-seeing guy!!), but also for finally putting this every country’s reject to rest. Seriously. That particular song was passed on to everyone in need of a competitive Eurovision bop, from Poli Genova to Helena Paparizou as of recently. Oh well, at least the song died a honourable death - well performed slice of good typical Eurovision pop (maybe even overperformed a little towards the end), that got a good rank with the regional juries, but somewhat murdered in televote, fellow Boris Milanov composition “Chameleon” style.

This one Mia Negovetić chick was promising too! Her song was written by the Debs and you might be tired of them trying to continue infiltrating Eurovision at this point, but a lot of their Eurovision songs are usually something I enjoy, “She’s Like a Dream” is no exception. Nothing but 3 minutes of pastel-dressed Croatian Ariana Grande doing what she does best <3

Oh and also some dudes tried to play chess on stage too I guess. But their song is not worth looking into, because one of the acts on it is apparently also a conspiracist, and maybe because oft this their entry is aptly titled “Sing, for the freedom has arrived!” lol I wonder what exactly is the kind of freedom you’re thinking of my guy

Was this the “better mood game” Laura was warning everyone about? Beats me

NF CORNER (NON-COMPETITIVE)

• It’s still hilarious to me as to how one of the acts this year, Brigita Vuco, was planning to bring in backing dancers, only for them to show a fake COVID test or something and outright BARRED from coming with her on stage. <3 Whatever she intended to do with them dancers, I have absolutely no idea, but at least she committed to her song being about drunken nights visually by having all these blurry shots

• Nina Kraljić’s greenroom shenanigans, from the “1-2-3, 1-2-3, drink” to numb the sadness over some results (and the 8 she got from the region Rijeka for the song “Rijeka” lmao), to whatever she saw on the phone that made her smile or go neutral

• Greenroom reactions in general. I swear, this year had cameramen in every single corner everywhere just to make sure something covers up for a human audience instead of severals of Zoom screens permitted to act as an audience. Random people in greenrooms were doing some sort of emotions after random acts, and also randomly they ended up pointing a camera towards an act that lost, but the act didn’t treat losing as if it were such a big deal <3

• All the other memes the Croatian Twitter might’ve noticed me for:

seriously Bernarda was locked in a bluelight mathematical dice contraption. how fucking cool is that

ANY LAST WORDS?

I just fucking hope that Albina shatters any doubts that people have had about her song come rehearsals, and somehow Croatia AND Israel slip through, because never too many female bangers I appreciate in the final, if they all are the bangers I appreciate, lol.

[gallavictorious]

I loved Gallavich in 10x08 but struggled quite a bit with them in 10x09 and 10x10 (even if I personally loved the brawl proposal), partly because Mickey's behaviour in regards to Byron makes me cringe so hard, and partly because we don't get a proper explanation for how Ian goes from ”how do you know you love me” to ”and if you let me...  “ and this bugs me.

However, never let it be said that I'm not ready to do whatever interpretative work needs to be done  for my favourite couple to make sense, so here it is:

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Episodes.

(Disclaimer: I'm just now watching season 10 in its entirerty and you guys have been at this for a while. If you've heard it all before, please be patient with a newbie who just really needs to sort through her thoughts and emotions.)

Now, I know that many fans would have preferred Byron to actually like Mickey, and I've seen pre-episode 10x10 takes where people theorized that Byron, rather than list all the ways Mickey sucks would list all the way he soars, thus leading to an eavesdropping Ian's realization that he needs to be with Mickey forever. And while that would have been very sweet in its own way – I am myself very much here for more people appreciating Mickey – I think it would ultimately have been far less realistic, for two reasons: 1, Mickey was never going to treat Byron well, and 2, Ian's reservations about getting married were never rooted in a lack of love for Mickey.

Mickey's cringe-worthy treatment of Byron stems from him trying to perform two different roles at the same time: he strives to be demonstratively affectionate whenever they're in front of Ian, but this reads as fundamentally false becuase this is not how Mickey normally shows affection. But Mickey's usual mode of loving communication is both far less overt than this, and thus less fit for the purpose, but also something he would never allow Byron to experience, because Mickey being loving is largely tied to Mickey allowing himself to be vulnerable, to be open and himself, and since Byron is not someone he trusts, or even respects, that's never going to happen. I'd argue that Mickey chooses Byron exactly because he perceives Byron as ”weak” and so someone he can use for his own means without Byron putting up a fight about it - but at the same time, associating with this ”weakness” actualizes all of Mickey's internalized ideas about strenght, manliness, South Side, etc, which leads him to revert back to his extra special thuggish behaviour in order to continually establish dominance and distance himself from the more effeminate homosexuality Byron represents. So, he treats Byron rather nastily, while at the same time employing conventional means of demonstrating affection whenever Ian's around, which serves both as a means to show oh god, how very very much in love with Byron he is, and as a means to always maintain a distance from Byron himself. Which is actually very realistic, given what we know of Mickey, but makes for a whiplash watching experience, and yes. Cringe.

And I'm pretty sure Mickey isn't even trying to fool Ian here: he doesn't expect Ian to believe that he has suddenly fallen in love with someone else. (So again, the unconvincing declarations of love on Mickey’s part serves a purpose here; they’re unconvincing on purpose, if maybe not alway consciously so.) This is an act calculated to provoke a response, becaue he needs Ian to prove something to him, to fight for him. (This bit, about Mickey needing a grand gesture rather than words have been discussed by many others in more articulate ways, so I'm not going to dwell on that.)

But regardless: everything Ian overhears Byron say is true (well, apart from the dumb bit – but I think Byron can be forgiven for not getting that, becaues I doubt Mickey made any effort at all to put his smarts on display, and our boy sure does act dumb from time to time). So why is hearing Byron say it enough to spur Ian into the grand gesture Mickey is looking for? Sure, we all get really pissed when hear others talk smack about the ones we love, but Ian's reluctance to marry was never rooted in Ian doubting his feelings for Mickey, so realizing that ”oh, I need to beat this one up because he's mean to my man” can hardly be the catalysator here. Actually, I don't think it is the catalysator – it just paves the way for the moment that is.

Bear wih me for a while:

That Mickey believes that it's Ian's feelings for him that waver isn't hard to understand: Ian has left him, multiple times, and considering how hard he went for the ”if we love and trust each other the maybe this decision isn't that hard” I absolutely get that Mickey, when Ian backs out, comes to the conclusion that Ian does not, in fact, love and/or trust him, at least not enough. But Ian does, and he verbally reaffirms that throughout these and the previous episodes. Does his insecurity, then, stem from an uncertainty that Mickey will be able to love him throughout his highs and lows? This is what he tries to tell Mickey when the whole promise rings thing fall apart, and I get that it pisses Mickey off, because hasn't Mickey already demonstrated, again and again, that he will stick by Ian, no matter what? Is Ian really so dense and insecure as not to see that?

I actually think that Ian absolutely knows that Mickey will stand by him through thick and thin, and this scares him because what if he develops into someone that Mickey no longer can love but feels obligated to stay with anyway? Ian hates being helpless; Ian hates being a victi; Ian hates feeling indebted to people because that implies he can't take care of himself, and I think that nothing terrifies him more than being a project, or being someone people stay with because they pity him or worry that he can't take care of himself. The issue here, I think, is that he doesn't trust Mickey to leave.

Why this would would be a bigger problem than it already is if they were married I don't quite get, but marriage typically speaks of a stronger and more formal committment and so is even harder to break up from, maybe? Hm. This part I haven't quite figured out yet.

Anyhow. Ian's problem is that he is scared that Mickey will stick with him even when Mickey really would rather leave, Mickey's problem – apart from him being pretty nasty to Byron – is that he wants a Grand Gesture and Proof of Love from Ian, because just expressions of love doesn’t cut it with him. This, I think, is not the proposal, but the fact that Ian shows up with a fake date. This obvious attempt at making Mickey jealous is enough to prove to Mickey that yeah, this means something to Ian too. Particularly since it comes right at the heels of Mickey experiencing a moment of true fear, when Ian announces his new partner: what if this is real, what if Mickey took things too far, what if he fucked this up? But then he sees Cole (who is, btw, awesome) and he sees Ian's face, and he knows exactly what Ian is up to. I think it was fiona-fififi who noted that they both realize that they'll be going home togheter this evening, even though they also have to go through the movements of a proper reconciliation. I tend to think of this as Mickey knowing they're going to make up, because he's prepared for that now, but Ian doesn't know it, yet. Mickey's just waiting for the opportune moment, and he's probably feeling a bit insecure, too, because how do you make the first move after all this?

But then, when Ian tops the whole thing off by beating up Byron (which Byron really didn't deserve, becaue after what Mickey put him through, he has earned the right to badmouth him – even if he is a coward for not just making Mickey leave), yeah, that's Mickey done for, that was all he needed. When he walks over to the pile of bodies, going ”hey”, that's an overture of peace: at this point, Ian doesn't actually need to propse to win him back. That is already a done deal.

I think Ian knows this too. I actually need Ian to know this too, because otherwise it will forever feel like he agreed to something he really didn't want just to have Mickey back, and this doesn't sit right with him. But then the question remain – why the fuck did he propose? What changed, that he suddenly felt confident enough in Mickey's ability to leave that he felt comfortable formalizing their union?

Maybe it's the simple fact that Mickey did leave. When he felt himself unfairly treated by Ian, he did leave and hooked-up with someone else. Admittedly and obviously in an attempt to get back at Ian, but he stubbornly stuck with it through Ian's various attempts at getting him back. Mickey is utterly in love with and devoted to Ian, but he's no wiltering flower: he will stand up for himself, and if he feels like he's not being treated right, he sure as hell will make certain Ian hears about this. Seeing Mickey standing there over him, returned only now that Ian has satisifed his need for proof of love, I think this is what Ian finally gets. This, in combination with feeling on a very deep and visceral level that he never wants Mickey to walk away and have to return again, is what prompts the proposal.

And hey - maybe he's still not completely sure about this whole getting married business, but he is sure about Mickey, so he's prepared to take the leap. Mickey may be rough in a lot of ways, but he's perfect for Ian in a way that no one else has ever been, and that's worth taking a chance on.

Anyway, this is what I think I think at the moment. Maybe I'll think something else in a while? Do you have thoughts? I'd love to hear them.

TL;DR Everything that happened in 10x09 and 10x10 actually makes sense and are in character, but should I really have to work this hard to get that?

[marybeatriceofmodena]

Ben Solo’s Story Arc - An Autopsy

This will be the second post before I publish the full TROS review, mainly because it’s yet another thing I want to get out of the way first. After which, I’ll be posting an announcement about the future of this blog, but no worries – I’ll be sticking around.

After Rey and her parentage, I’ll be talking about Ben here specifically – mainly because I have a pretty big inkling that his plotline for TROS was mutilated, and that he initially actually had an arc.

Except, somewhere in the executive meddling, for reasons I myself am not sure of (okay, I got some theories but it’s pointless to share them here), it got cut.

The Rise of Kylo Ren might be an inkling that there was something more in the works, also that when it comes to its take on Snoke, it directly contradicts things TROS sets up. The simplest explanation is that the Lucasfilm Story Group had a hand in TRoKR, and not for TROS. But even then… the comic reveals things that make me BAFFLED they didn’t put that in the films. I don’t want to be that person who thinks 30 minutes of TLJ should have been dedicated to Snoke’s origins, but stuff like how Ben didn’t even destroy Luke’s Jedi Camp? THAT’S the kind of thing you need to include in your film.

Also, I 110% believe the rumors that JJ Abrams just ignored the Story Group’s existence entirely. Wanna know why? Just the fact that Exogol is established as the Sith world… when we know thanks to The Clone Wars that it’s Moraband – which would have been super easy to use. But fuck continuity I guess.

I will say though, I am NOT surprised it’s leaking out that the movie was severely tempered with and was constantly changing during production, simply because from my first (and only) viewing… I could tell something was wrong. Namely, I could tell that Ben’s arc had been mutilated – and the more I think about it, the more glaring it gets. It’s not even that I’m mad that Adam Driver (aka Golden Globe/Academy Award nominee Adam Driver) gets relegated to playing Darth Exposition for 75% of the film (and godawful exposition at that), it’s literally that so much of what remains of his arc makes no sense, and it affects Palpatine and Rey by extension.

I explained why Rey’s character arc was butchered here, and I’ve also talked about how Palpatine’s implication in her arc didn’t work either, so I won’t talk about it too much here, nor do you need to have read it prior in order to understand this post. I will also point out that a lot of what will be my speculation – so for all I know, I could be wrong, but I’m trying to fill in the holes here.

So, for starters… somehow, Ben knows that Palpatine is still alive. Somehow, he knows how to get to him. AND SOMEHOW, THE WRITERS DECIDED NOT EXPLAINING SHIT WAS THE WAY TO GO. This is not even on the level of not explaining who the fuck Snoke is in the two previous films – while I do think there could have been a throwaway line in TLJ, it didn’t “hinder” the story.

HOWEVER, not explaining how Palpatine is still around and kicking (well, he’s on life support so kicking might be a little too flattering), why he decided to reveal himself right there, right then, and how the hell Ben knows he’s around, how he figured out how to get to Exogol using the holocrons… THAT IS A BIG PROBLEM. This is the triggering element of the rising action in your story. But before you do that, YOU. NEED. EXPOSITION. TO. SET. UP. THE. CONTEXT. OF. YOUR. STORY.

What TROS did would be like skipping Finn’s intro when he’s with his Stormtrooper squad on Jakku, removing the interrogation with Poe and Kylo entirely, and just start TFA with him escaping with Poe without any explanation given. Oh, and also cut out Rey’s introduction as well, and we first meet her when she kicks Finn’s ass in Niima Outpost. You’d just have a bunch of characters coming out of nowhere, and you’d have no frigging clue what they’re doing, and what they want. And that’s what TROS does with Ben and Palpatine.

Take the handling of Snoke, for instance. I’d be a lot more mad about the Snoke retconning if it wasn’t for… what I’m going to call the “Snoke Stew” (and I’d crack a joke about how it was probably made with the DNA of a guy called Stu, which is not funny but still funnier than most of the jokes in TROS). That’s pretty much the one thing that stops me from being mad, because of how STUPID it is.

But the explanation for Snoke’s origins just… retcons so much that has been established before, INCLUDING INFO FROM A COMIC THAT CAME OUT AFTER TROS. We knew Snoke had a past, even if we weren’t privy to it yet. We did kind of know that he was a rich guy, like all the shitty rich people we saw in Canto Bight, who happened to be a Dark Sider and was seemingly smart enough to kill his way to the top. Considering how exploitative the First Order is when it comes to resources and that a rich patron would be welcomed with open arms, it makes sense.

With the explanation given by TROS, it just provides a fuck ton of plotholes to the fact he took over the First Order while killing off old Imperial higher-ups to establish himself as Supreme Leader. Do you really think a guy in a golden bathrobe would just be able to take over out of fucking nowhere because he killed all the higher-ups? No. And even if some of the higher-ups knew that Snoke was a Palps plant (like Pryde seems to), I doubt Ben would have stayed Supreme Leader for as long as a year.

But that’s not even the biggest problem! Seriously, I don’t know if Palps is senile in this film, because we got an ENTIRE trilogy explaining how the guy is one of the worst evil masterminds to have ever lived, in the Galaxy Far Far Away and even in today’s culture. Here, you don’t even understand what the fuck he even wants! I’m “guessing” he fucked with Ben to get his revenge on Anakin, because he uses Ben as his lackey while being seemingly totally oblivious that Ben is working against him (what happened to “every voice in your head”???). He wants Ben to kill Rey… while knowing Rey is his granddaughter, and while telling her when she shows up that he wants to use her as a new host or some shit. Seriously, MAKE UP YOUR MIND ALREADY.

This said… I honestly wonder if Ben was initially meant to be the new host, and not Rey. Because not only that was an actual theory I had pre-TROS, but it would make a shit ton more sense than having Rey be the host – not to mention it’d be the ultimate revenge against Anakin (and if you want to get REAL yucky, he may have planned to have Rey be his new consort, but I’ll spare you more speculation about that aspect). But nah, I guess.

The most damning thing in all this is that there’s no difference in Ben’s overall behavior and actions AFTER Snoke has been killed, when it’s clear Snoke was the biggest influence on him. Saying that Palpatine just kept messing with him makes no sense because with Snoke dead, any voice Ben would still hear would make him go “NOPE” and do exactly the opposite of what said voice tells him to do.

Like, for real, with Snoke dead, unless he’s REALLY stupid (I mean… Ben is reckless, but not stupid), why would Ben do anything a now Random Voice would tell him to do?

The thing is, there have been hints in previous material that Ben isn’t exactly 110% on board with what the First Order does. He’s clearly against blowing up planets, he snarks about how Stormtroopers should be clones instead – which could just be a throwaway snarky line, but considering Ben’s past… I can see him not being too fuzzy about the Stormtrooper program. Like, I’m not saying he’d start a Galactic Free Donut Day, but there would be a change. It wouldn’t be Business as Usual – especially that Ben wasn’t that young (23) when he joined Snoke, and it’s a little hard to go from “My uncle tried to kill me in my sleep and I’m going towards the one figure I think can protect me” to “Blowing up planets and enslaving people is the way to go”. It would have worked if Ben had been brainwashed from his teens, but not so much as an adult – hence you need a little more nuance with Supreme Leader Kylo Ren.

Oh yeah, and the Knights of Ren? They’re just there to look cool. “But they kidnapped Chewie!” Yeah, what was the fucking point of them kidnapping Chewie apart from giving a reason for the Beautiful Friendship Gang to get on the Star Destroyer and give us fake suspense because we all know how it’s gonna end, just end my suffering already. Also, NO INTERRACTION WITH BEN? DID YA FORGET CHEWIE IS LIKE, HIS UNCLE? DID YALL FORGET BEN WAS PART OF YOUR FAMILY OR…

Seriously, that sequence on Pasaana where they’re just standing there on top of a fucking mountain? I called that part the Backdesert Boys. That tells ya how much I hated it.

Oh yeah, and they’re fighting fodder for Benny Boy in the end, because of course they were Palps’ lackeys all along, can’t think of anything else that’s more imaginative.

So what could they possibly add to Ben’s arc, that would explain so much, like how Ben finds Palpatine, or how he’s always one step ahead from the Beautiful Friendship Gang in their Wild Goose Chase no one fucking cares about?

This is where I got into speculation/conspiracy theory territory. Brace yourselves. 

*

So, the film has Lando reveal that he and Luke “knew” about Palps being around thanks to snooping around… except that makes no bloody sense. Lando was never involved in a Force plot of any kind, and he was never that close to Luke anyway. I mean, Lando’s a nice guy and all, but he’s not really besties with Luke – he’s Han’s friend.

So that research should have taken place either before Ben joined Luke at Jedi Camp, either after. Then again, before would make no sense, because why would Luke leave that critical of a search on the ice for 10 to 15 years? The only place where I can place it in time, where it would make logical sense… would be when Ben was around, and it’d make WAY more sense to have him be Luke’s sidekick in that search.

It would have totally explained why Luke freaked the fuck out reading Ben’s mind, because only Palpatine can give her that severe of a PTSD-like reaction. It would have totally explained why Ben would run to Snoke, grooming and desperation set aside, under the promise that they’d associate to defeat Palps, because if you ignore the plot hole extravaganza of TROS, you’d bet Snoke wouldn’t want Palps anywhere near his throne – mainly because Snoke is a wannabe Palpatine who targeted Ben to get his own Vader. It would have totally explained why Ben thought becoming Supreme Leader is a good idea – even if it’s morally wrong, it makes logical sense. It would have totally explained why Kylo was collecting Sith artefacts in the year gap while keeping in mind he made his distaste for the Sith clear in TLJ. It would have totally provided the audience (and Rey) a good reason to forgive Ben, because even if he had godawful methods, he wanted to do the right thing and save the galaxy from the person who came this close to destroying them, as well as his family. That would have provided for him the means to realize that he cannot defeat Palpatine using Palpatine’s means – as Rose said, he’ll win by saving what he loves, and not destroying what he hates. That would have made Rey the glitch in the matrix, who must join forces with Ben because without her, he would have been doomed despite his best efforts.

And before you tell me that would have been unnecessary… let me put it to you this way. Ben keeps saying it's too late, and if it was just that, it could be interpreted as him thinking he went too far to come back. But he also adds that he has "something to do", and I'm here waving my arms like "WHAT? WHY? FUCK, YOU DIDN'T EVEN KILL YOUR FELLOW STUDENTS!!! THEY'RE NOT EVEN BOTHERED TO SAY THAT IN THE ACTUAL FILM!!!"

Hence why my theory is the simplest way to just tie it all neatly together, without retconning anything. There.

IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SUPER SIMPLE TO DO. Except that, as I mentioned earlier, they mutilated Ben’s arc, and left him to play the part of Darth Exposition, until the very end, when they have Ben save what he loves… but even then, I can’t even appreciate that either, because it happens in a way that makes EVERYONE look horrible, while Ben is, from a storytelling perspective, a saint… a saint everyone ultimately forgot about.

[amanda-teaches]

Take a Drunk Girl Home

Summary: Dean’s night out the bar gets a little more interesting when he runs into a girl who might need a little saving.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Bed Sharing for @spnfluffbingo2019​, @spngenrebingo​, and @spndeanbingo​

Word Count: 1869

Warnings: Soft Dean, Protective Dean, Caring Dean, the kind of Dean we all want to fall in love with, fluff, minor swearing

A/N: This is a little bit of an unconventional way to fill this square, but I am so very much in love with it. I hope you are too. It’s based off the song Drunk Girl by Chris Janson, and there are lyrics interspersed throughout.

Dean was sitting at the bar, his elbows resting on the warped plywood, his head in his hands. As he nursed his third beer of the night, he felt like something shifted in the air around him, and he glanced up. His eyes drifted across the room before falling on her, a small smile finding its way to his face.

She was gorgeous, that was for sure, but that wasn’t what drew his attention. It was the way she moved, dancing with her eyes closed like she was the only one in the room. She was bouncing like a pinball, singing along to every song. All the words were wrong, but she kept singing, bopping around the room without a care in the world.

He took in her hair, a perfect mess, and her little-too-tight dress, and he realized what he was looking at. Either a bachelorette or coming off a breakup. His eyes drifted to her hand, taking in the large number of cover charge stamps decorating it and he sighed, putting two and two together.

“Definitely a break-up,” he muttered, confirming his suspicions by scanning the bar and finding a noticeable lack of friends around her. He kept his eyes on her as he took another swig of beer, watching as she continued to twirl around the room, stumbling around on her high heels. She nearly fell once, and he jumped up, ready to intervene, but she caught herself, staggering back to grab her drink off the table.

She downed it in one gulp and then closed her eyes again, throwing out her arms and spinning in a circle. Dean chuckled and turned to the bartender. “Hey, Joe, you know that girl over there?”

Joe followed the path of his pointed finger and shook his head. “Naw, but I know she’s had a lot to drink. I’m gonna have to call her a cab.”

“Don’t bother,” Dean said with a smile, slamming a twenty down on the bar as he stood up. “I got it.”

“You sure?” Joe questioned, raising his eyebrows.

Dean nodded, already halfway to the dance floor. “Yeah, I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

He turned his head, focusing his full attention on the beautiful woman still swaying drunkenly in front of him. To his left, he could see a tall man with a preppy, little skinny tie heading her way, and he threw him a hard glare, cutting him off at the pass. Within a few more long-legged steps, he was by her side, but he hesitated, placing his hand out as if she was coaxing an easily-spooked deer. “Um, hey...”

She whirled around like a whip, her eyes flying open and meeting his, wild irises, clouded over from the alcohol, struggling to focus. “Wh...at are you?” she stammered, her speech slurring slightly as she blinked a few times, squinting her eyes. “A male model or sometin’?”

He couldn’t help but laugh as he shook his head to correct her. “No, just a guy. I came over here because wanted to make sure you…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she screamed, her voice rising far above the music, her hands flying out in front of her. “Who moved the floor?”

“Okay then…” Dean sighed, reaching out to grip her elbow, steadying her. “Can I call someone for you? A friend or boyfriend...”

“Boyfriend!” she snorted, brushing his hand away and doubling over with laughter. “Ha! Not a chance, not after what he did. He wishes!”

“Um, okay…” Dean whispered, watching as her face fell, sadness washing over her. “Maybe someone else?”

She shook her head, straightening her shoulders resolutely. “No. ‘Sides, I don’t need a knight in shining farmer.” She spun back around, throwing her head back and her hands up into the air. “I’m perpect...perbect...perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Sure you are,” Dean said with an indulging smile. “But, just the same, maybe we should…”

Before he could finish, she spun around once more, coming to a stop with a whispered “whoa”. She made eye contact with him for the briefest of seconds, her eyes rolling from side to side. “I, uh, I don’ think I feel so good.” And, with just enough warning for him to reach out his arms to catch her, her eyes drifted shut, and she collapsed into his arms.

“Great,” Dean groaned, lifting her up with ease and gently settling her over his shoulder. “Why do they always gotta pass out?”

-

Thirty minutes, and a quick check of her wallet, later, Dean was standing outside of Y/N’s door, cradling her still sleeping form in his arms. He adjusted her slightly, pausing as she softly groaned, before he used her key to unlock the door, pushing it open with his foot.

He protected her head with his hand as he stepped inside, making sure to turn carefully with her in his arms before closing the door. He moved quietly down the small entryway, his eyes quickly adjusting to the shadowed darkness.

He quickly established that the first door he stopped at was a bathroom, so he kept walking, moving towards the door at the end of the hall. When he passed the threshold, he aimed straight for the well-made, inviting bed, placing her down on it gently. She stirred a little before curling in on herself, her eyes remaining closed.

He smiled, stopping just to watch her for a moment, her chest rising and falling steadily. Her hair had fallen in front of her eyes, and, without even thinking, he reached down and brushed it away, his breath catching as he realized what he was doing. He closed his eyes, shaking his head ever so slightly, and straightened back up, turning towards the door.

“Wait…”

The voice was whisper soft, and he almost didn’t hear it, but he did, stopping mid-step. He spun back around to find her sitting up, staring at him. “You brought me home.”

It was almost more of a question than a statement, so he nodded his head. “I wanted to make sure you got here okay.”

“And, now, you’re leaving?”

The vulnerability in her voice shocked him to his core, and, as his eyes connected with hers, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. “I, uh, I guess I could stay for a bit.”

He moved slowly to the other side of the bed, much more hesitantly than before, and sat down gingerly on the edge. Without warning, her fingers lightly touched the base of his shoulder blade, and he felt like he’d been burned, quickly jumping back up and stepping away from the bed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, moving until she was sitting on her knees, staring after him.

He paced around for a few seconds, raking his hands through his hair. “I should go. You need to sleep, and we barely know each other…”

“Don’t you want me?”

His head whipped around to meet hers, his heart falling at the broken expression on her face. Damn, he wanted to kill her ex for making her look like that. 

He took a deep breath and walked towards her, sitting down on the bed next to her and gently resting his hand on her cheek. She leaned into it almost instinctively, shutting her eyes and breathing him in. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice as soft as the wind. “You’ve had a lot to drink. As much as I want to stay, and, God, do I want to, I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

She opened her eyes, and he inhaled sharply at the tears he saw reflected in them. “I know you don’t believe it right now, but nothing good would come from me staying here tonight. You deserve a whole hell of a lot better than some drunken one night stand, Y/N.”

He leaned in and placed a feather-light kiss to her forehead, gently laying her down as he did, until her head hit the pillow beneath her. He sat back up and grabbed the blanket next to him, carefully placing it on top of her and smiling as he watched her close her eyes and snuggle into it. Standing up, he, once again, made his way to the doorway.

“Hey, knight in shining armor?”

His grin widened, and he paused, his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered quietly, looking back at her one last time and drinking her in before he closed the door behind him and walked back down the hallway.

He took her keys out of his pocket and placed them on the counter by the front door. His hand lingered as he thought of the way she’d looked at him, the way her hand had felt against him. He may have picked up the life she threw on the floor, but she’d done a hell of a lot more for him.

On the spur of the moment, he took an old receipt out of his pocket, smoothing out the crumpled paper and grabbing a nearby pen. He scrawled his name and number on it and left it by the phone, turning to go before he could second guess himself. Leaving the hall lights on, he walked out and locked the door, the slip of paper he’d left behind staying as a last sign of hope.

-

The next morning, he groaned as he rolled out of bed, smoothing over his tousled hair and making his way into the bunker’s cold kitchen. Sam must’ve already been up and out, because there was a pre-made pot of coffee waiting for him. He smiled and grabbed it, pouring a cup. Looking over at the phone he’d left on the table last night, he raised his eyebrow when he noticed it was blinking. Grabbing it, he pressed play on the message, grinning even wider when he realized who it was from.

“Hey...I, um, I wanted to thank you for last night. You went above and beyond the random-guy-at-a-bar call of duty, and I will forever be grateful. I’ve been, uh, going through a rough time lately, as I’m sure you noticed, and I think you were exactly what I needed last night....Dean.” She paused, but he could hear the smile in her voice as she said his name. “I figured I’d go out last night and meet some boys who could take my mind off it, but you showed me the difference between a boy and a man. Thank you for being a man.” Another pause, this time a little longer. “Um...if you’re up to it, I’d really love to buy you a drink to show you how much it meant to me. Maybe something non-alcoholic this time,” she laughed. “Coffee? Let me know.”

He didn’t even let the message finish before he was redialing her number, his own cup of coffee long forgotten on the counter. He smiled into the phone as he waited for her to pick up, imagining the sound of her voice on the other end. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly would come from this, but he knew one thing: he’d never been so damn grateful to take a drunk girl home.

Forevers- @hamartiamacguffin​ @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester​ @katymacsupernatural​ @impandagrl​ @cyrilconnelly​ @impala-dreamer​ @castielhasthetardis​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​ @be-amaziing​ @jalove-wecallhimdean​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @mysterious-398​ @hannahindie​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ohmychuckitssamanddean​ @wi-deangirl77​ @carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @ericaprice2008​ @masksandtruths​ @roxyspearing​ @squirrel-moose-winchester​ @sweetpeamoose​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @deans-dirty-writer​ @roxy-davenport​ @heyitscam99​ @starry-chaos @spnbaby-67​ @mogaruke​ @atc74​ @dolphincliffs​ @closetspngirl​ @maddiepants​

Dean Tags- @akshi8278​ @whimsicalrobots​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @alexwinchester23​

[ms-maj]

Teenage Wasteland

With so, so, so, so many thanks to @theheavycrown. For this header, for betaing, for existing. The. Best. Also, this really got away from me so it’s a skosh on the long side.

Day five: A song that needs to be played loud- Baba O’Riley-The Who

The exodus is here

The happy ones are near

Let's get together, before we get much older

Teenage wasteland

It's only teenage wasteland

Baba O’Riley- The Who

Jughead Jones watches as the sun rises over the Sunnyside Trailer park. It’s obnoxiously loud for six am, but considering what the day is to hold, he can hardly blame its inhabitants for their excitement. The smoke from his cigarette rises above his head and sticks, haloing him in the early morning haze. It looks like it’s going to be another miserably humid day, the lack of clouds in the morning sky seems to be an unfortunate indication that the heat is going to be unbearable as well. He sighs heavily, snuffing his cigarette butt out on the deck before flicking it into the empty coffee can. Pulling his knees to his chest, he folds his arms around his legs and watches the hubbub of activity flit through the park.

Today is “The Roll”, Riverdale’s newly minted bike rally; the town council and mayor’s attempt at unifying the North and South Sides. Supposedly people were coming from all over to ride in today’s opening parade, some thousand bikes he thought he’d overheard.  He knew, without a doubt, that the majority of Riverdale proper was, at the very least displeased by the joint venture. However, the prominence of biker culture in the Southside made even the toughest of Serpents giddy at the thought of rolling though Riverdale Square, invited, and embraced by like-minded people. Jughead had heard his father, FP, and his pseudo-uncles Mack and Terry practically squealing when they announced that the “Roll on Riverdale” was a go this year, and now they were all out, polishing their bikes in preparation for the parade.

There’s a part of Jughead that’s excited too. His bike is finally operational. The years of blood, sweat and copious amounts of hard-earned cash saw his grandfather’s 1950 Vincent Black Lightning roar to life. He’s man enough, in the confines of his own mind, to admit that he may have cried when he’d put the final cap on his fully restored beauty and the engine purred to life under his touch. He’s damn proud of his bike, and he is damn proud to ride her today. A smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he hears laughter bubble up across the park, men hooting and hollering as their wives bring out trays of breakfast foods. Jughead likens it to a pre-war feast. The majority of the Serpents, and their of age children, will be riding in the parade—right into the very heart of the community that condemns them.

Before he gets too lost in the social mores that threaten to loop around his head, the front door swings open to reveal his sister, JB, already dressed for the ride.

“Juuuuggg, come on! We’ve only got four hours before this thing starts!”

“Only four?” His head shakes as he laughs, patting the space next to him for her to come and sit. “Have you ever seen it like this, Jelly?”

Her eyes narrow at him and he can’t help the smirk that forms. “Nope. Well, it’s kind of like Christmas, minus the cold.”

“It’s better than Christmas,” Jughead mumbles under his breath. He knows the circumstances that most of the families endure to give their children any semblance of Christmas, and this, well it carries none of that weight or shame. This is jubilation. Riverdale is finally putting itself in a position to see all that comes out of the Southside; even if they only ever still see it as bad, Jughead hopes that maybe if all things go really well than their communities can actually come together. Rather than just seeing blight and criminals, maybe the North can recognize the humanity that lies on the other side of the tracks. 

“I’m going to record it all! Ms. Hammill gave me her GoPro; I’m gonna tape it to my helmet so I can film everything as we’re riding.”

“Oh, so you’ve finally decided to listen to me and wear a helmet?”

“You told me I had to or I couldn’t ride with you!”

He chuckles. “That is absolutely right, Jellybean. You’re not going anywhere near a bike, ever, without a helmet. Capiche?”

“Yeah, sure, until I’m seventeen and way too cool like you. I don’t see why dad’s not on your ass about it.”

“I always wear my helmet, kid. Except for today. Considering we can’t go over twenty on the route,” he picks his head up and looks in the direction of the now fully risen sun. “Besides, it’s going to be nine-hundred degrees today. My leather jacket plus that ridiculous helmet Uncle Mack gave me is a recipe for heatstroke, which I would much rather not suffer at all, thanks. So, helmetless, at the advice of our father and other seasoned riders, but only for today.” He wags his finger in her face emphatically.

Jughead watches his sister roll her eyes before playfully punching him in the shoulder. “I’m gonna go get some food from Aunt Bea, you want?”

Before the sarcastic response can form on his tongue she’s up, muttering,  “Of course you want food, what a silly question, JB…” before dashing off across the yards.

He sighs again. The humidity is definitely growing, and while it hangs heavy it doesn’t necessarily feel oppressive. And for some reason, that’s as strange an omen as Jughead Jones can imagine. He stands from the deck, cracks his neck, and walks back through the door. 

Something will definitely change in Riverdale today. If you would have asked Jughead at that moment, or any of the ones that preceded it, if he thought he’d come out of today the most changed he’d have laughed in your face. The fates, however, seem to have something else in store for him.

(Finish under the cut or check it out on AO3)

Jughead is unnerved. Something about the too-bright sun juxtaposed on a cloudless, cerulean sky. Or that the breeze always seems to come exactly when he is feeling just a tad uncomfortable. There are no perfect days, not on the Southside, not anywhere. And yet this day seems picturesque. He asked his dad to take Jellybean to the parade route, told him he’d meet them there and rode off astride his Lightning toward the open road. 

Only the road isn’t open. Bikes litter every establishment's parking lot and clog the streets, forcing Jughead out toward the lesser-traveled backroads that his Vincent doesn’t always handle well on.

But there are no nerves. Just the power of the bike and the confidence in his ministrations, and his path stays true. He shakes his head quickly, trying to disseminate what exactly is making him feel so…

In reality, he knows exactly what’s eating away at him. Instead of letting it occupy his mind he puts his foot on the gas, letting the wind whip through his hair, beanie tucked securely in his breast pocket. The roads amble further and further from the Southside, trees coming to line the roadside rather than telephone poles and streetlights. As he makes his way toward Sweetwater River, the grayscale of the dour life he’s lived is traded for the verdant, lush green that he has never really appreciated before now.

The nearer he gets to the rally point the more his anxiety rises. It’s all just too strange, too surreal, with the streets outside of the ever-peppy and pristine Riverdale convoluted with motorcycles of all makes and models. Still, he manages to spot FP and Gladys right away. A large huff of air heaves past his lips as he sidles up next to his father. There’s still an hour or so before the parade should technically start, for which he’s extremely grateful, as he wrestles to get his mind under control. He watches Jellybean running around trying to get as much of it on film before they start; he envies her enthusiasm. 

Riverdale has never cared for them, for him. They never worried about the schools’ funding on the Southside, or whether the roads warranted repair (which they all did), or if selling the drive-in to the highest bidder would be the nail in the coffin. And clearly it wasn’t to his neighbors, but to Jughead Jones it was everything. They’d severed the last tie to his childhood, stolen from him the very notion of hope and with that, he’d written them out of his narrative.

Yet, here he sits. His father and mother to his left, Mack and Terry behind them, Serpent emblems littering the stretch. Jughead straddles his bike somewhere in the middle of the pack, hundreds of bikes stretched out before and behind him. Though he feels like they’ve been there for hours already, the bikes kept ambling in, filling the road that runs parallel to the river. The parade is meant to follow Sweetwater’s meandering path before veering off onto the bunting-lined streets that lead into the very heart of Riverdale. 

 “You nervous, kid?” His father’s voice carries over the bikes as Jughead sweeps his eyes back from the vista before him.

“Should I be? It’s not like I’ve never ridden before.”

FP huffs a laugh and shakes his head slowly. “It’s just a big step for us.”

“What? Rolling into Riverdale?” Jughead scoffs.

His father’s lip turns up slightly, settling into a softer smile than Jughead expects. “I know it’s not that big a deal to you, but to us old-timers…being invited—hell, celebrated, by this town—well, it’s a day I never thought I’d see.” Jughead nods. He knows the divide between the two halves of the town threatens to swallow them whole. And not just in some off-hand ‘grand-scheme-of-things’ way, but in the very literal his family was on a precipice kind of way, and he can’t help the resentment that toils inside him.

His father has been home less and less. Jobs varying in nature and pay-scale take priority over actually spending time with his family. Legitimate work on the Southside is almost non-existent, most of the gainful employment going to the younger generations in a never-ending battle against the wheel that pins them down.

On the Southside, and in Riverdale alike, you are a pawn. Be it above-board or not, your employ depends on one of two men and whatever stratagem they decide to launch against the other that week. The Northsiders don’t see it like that, of course. It’s business.  Jughead grew up knowing that on the Southside they’ve always been seen as less…less clean; less important; less human. He’s managed to avoid Riverdale proper, lest he get sucked into its idealized Americana suburban bullshit, and tries to thrive in its periphery. The Serpent logo emblazoned on his back was a not-so-subtle constant reminder of where he’s supposed to belong, the other was the 998cc V-twin engine between his thighs.

His bike, the physical embodiment of his work, has garnered more attention than he was ready for. Jughead’s enough of an enthusiast to understand there’d be interest in his bike, but he’s fended off more than a few ludicrous offers and the rally hasn’t even officially started. There were few bikes as old as his, but none that could compare to the detail he’d refurbished his with. 

Aside from his name, which he is loathe to admit, it’s the only tangible bit of the legacy left to him by his grandfather. Forsythe the First was one of the founding members of a Motorcycle Club that ended up being absorbed by the Serpents. It’s one of the reasons he’s always felt so obligated to stay with them, even if he’s always had so much more that he wants to do with his life.

“Jug! Jug!” His eyes flick to his breathless sister who is climbing onto the back of his bike before he can register the garbled words coming from her mouth. But with the revving of engines and plumes of exhaust kicking up in front of him, he knows. It’s time.

FP waggles his brows excitedly as he takes off, Gladys whooping behind him as her bike roars to life. Jellybean giggles in his ear, her grip tightening on his waist as they begin their ride toward town.

The streets are lined with adulating townsfolk, waving their flags and cheering as the bikes descend on them. Families, Jughead notes, are out in droves, all smiles and welcome posturing. He fights the urge to roll his eyes on more than one occasion at the suburbanites’ inability to cope with the noise of the parade. He can’t help if his engine revs when he recognizes the discomforted looks of the parade-goers. His father, still at his side, gives him a hard look when he catches on, but Jughead notices the twinkle in his eye and the way his mouth curls into a smirk. Jughead can feel his doing the same as they get closer to Riverdale.

“Uh oh,” he hears Jelly huff as he slows down. The parade bottlenecks just short of Picken’s Park. 

They’re so close. Ride through the square, exalt, and go home. Jughead’s feet hit the ground as they come to a stop, his head lolling back for a second before he finds focus.

On his left he sees a flash, something glinting in the sun catches his eye. A golden halo hidden behind the long lens of an older model Canon. The camera dips, revealing the most luminescent eyes he’s ever seen. He can feel his breath hitch.

When their eyes meet he feels it at his very core. She looks ethereal, backlit by the mid-day sun, breeze blowing the ends of her ponytail away from her lithe frame as the camera held between her slender fingers moves further down her form. His jaw drops as he watches her lower lip slide between her teeth.

“Jug, let’s go!” He snaps forward as Jellybean hits his shoulder, urging him back into the crowd. Shaken from his reverie, he dares another glance back toward the blonde beauty but he’s lost her in the crowd. Huffing disappointedly, he lets go of the throttle and catches up with his dad and neighbors, a true smile forms on his face for the first time that day.

Suddenly, Jughead feels far more interested to see what else Riverdale has in store for him.

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

The sun roasts Pickens Park, just as Jughead predicted it would, but it surprises him that he doesn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. That doesn’t mean it’s in every way good, but, as he moseys through the vendor tents, filling himself with various fried delights, he can’t help but be on the lookout for that flash of blonde hair again. He thinks maybe he’d seen the same golden hue by one of the tents but when he got closer, it was gone, swallowed into an unlikely sea of seersucker and leather.

The crowd is denser than he expected. H hadn’t anticipated the Northsiders being interested in wandering too far into the depths of the bike fest; again, he’s proven wrong. The throngs of onlookers that lined the parade route have made their way to Picken’s Park. Crisply dressed families holding perfectly manicured hands descend from suburbia as Southsiders flow in with the rank and file to the center of Riverdale.

On top of everything else, everyone seems to be getting along. It’s pleasantly surprising. 

After parking his bike with the other Serpents, he backs out of watching the stunt bikes with Joaquin and Sweet Pea, opting to chase Jellybean around as she continues to capture the day’s events for posterity. His father had been talking to an older gentleman when he walked away, something about restorations, though it could have very well been restitution.

Today, he doesn’t have the heart for it. He watches Jellybean weave through the crowd, running straight for her friends, effectively forgetting he is even there.

Sighing, Jughead takes the slightly crushed pack of Marlboro’s from his breast pocket, along with his beanie, holding them for a long moment before stuffing a cigarette in his mouth and the beanie on his head before skulking off. He catches sight of few more junior serpents, but manages to stay in their periphery and melt back into the masses.

It’s not that he doesn’t like them. They’ve all grown up together and were currently in high school, but that’s pretty much where the similarities ended. While the Northside kids were presumably spoon-fed limitless ambition and encouragement from infancy, Southside kids didn’t always fare so well. It wasn’t that parents on the Southside loved their kids less, or had less grandiose aspirations for them, it’s just that sometimes things like food and heat outweighed singing lessons or money for the book fair. 

And that’s where the Serpents came in. Short on rent? Give us a hand with this thing and we’ll help you out, stay if you’re afraid it’ll happen again. They all stayed; they never left. Then the cycle would start all over. Their kids need jobs to help the family get by or ward off disciplinary action from some business owner that the bored, latch-key kids may, or may not have egged. 

By fourteen, most Southside kids were employed by legitimate Serpent owned businesses before they decided whether or not they wanted to transition into the gang as a fully-fledged member. 

That’s the limbo Jughead Jones finds himself in. At seventeen, he’s already been too long a man. He wants the camaraderie of the Serpents, the brotherhood of men who uplift one another and hold themselves to a higher standard, not the backsliding, hoodlumesque gang-banging he saw so prevalent at school the previous year. His entire existence hinged on this dichotomy: a quasi-normal home life, much more stable and happy than he’d had for most of his formative years and the knowledge that when his father wasn’t home, he was actually leading a gang through their less than savory endeavors. 

Eighteen means making a decision. Does he stay with the gang? The one who afforded him the opportunity, the skills, the means to repair his bike. The gang who insured food was on the table when their dad was in the skids. The gang who still made sure his dad didn’t fall off the wagon, or if he did, picked him up and set him back on his feet.

Or does he follow HIS dreams? Go to college, or hell, just get out of Riverdale. (Preferably without attachment to a regiment.)  He’s never wanted to stay. He dreams of winding coastlines and leatherbound journals; of leaves on trees he’s never seen in person and stars in skies that look like his but are worlds away.

He’s felt this weight (guilt, shame, fear, hope) building for longer now than he’d like to admit. He’s never had any intention of staying, no plan to fall deeper into a pit he can’t get out of. 

Jughead doesn’t realize that he’s walked the entirety of Picken’s Park already until he’s faced, again, with those he’d been trying to avoid.

“Jones!” As much as he’d rather turn back into the crowd, he’s been spotted. With a grimace, he makes his way over to where they, who were once his friends, are sitting. 

“Toni. Fangs. Harbingers of Doom,” he greets dourly. Fangs rolls his eyes as Toni’s narrow on him, their lackeys looking ready to say something more before he holds up a halting hand. 

“Jugs,” comes Toni’s clipped voice. “Wasn’t sure you’d be riding with the pack today, considering you don’t actually want to be one of us.”

Jughead stretches his neck slowly before he speaks, rubbing a wary hand across the back. “No, Toni, I don’t want to be one of you.”

“C’mon, Jug,” Fangs tries. He would give him that, Fangs always tried. “We all used to be so close, but with Joaquin going to school in Ohio in a few weeks, and you and Pea deciding you’re too good for us…”

“No. Pea decided, for himself, that he wasn’t cut out for this life. I am, as of yet, undecided.”

Scoffing, Toni flings long pink hair over her shoulder before fixing an appraising eye on Jughead. “Undecided? My ass you’re undecided, Jonesy. You made your choice loud and clear last year when you decided to skip the after prom festivities…”

“Is that what this is about?” Jughead nearly chokes on his laugh. “Sorry Tones, you just don’t do it for me, and I know I lack certain anatomical features to do it for you. So, sorry not sorry if I ruined whatever ‘well-laid’ plans you two had in the works.”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself, Jones. We only wanted you to ride with us for your clout; we more than make up for our size and age with our ability to get shit done.”

Toni and Fangs smile at their new protege, Trula, while Jughead is the one whose eyes roll this time. “Oh. Okay. That’s why you’re still blowing me up after I turned you down, more than once. You too, Tone, it’s kind of sad,” he throws a smirk their way and turns back towards the still gathering crowd.  Pausing, before they have a second to gather their wits, he twists back with a slick smile on his face. “And for the record, no one thinks you ‘get shit done’, you’re just effective fodder that keeps coming back for more. Enjoy your day kids, who knows: the next time you’re thrown to the wolves may be your last. Only cats have nine lives, not snakes.”

It’s not like walking away from friends he’s had since diapers is his idea of a good time. He just knows his commitment to the Serpents will never run as deep as that of the small group who are undoubtedly boring holes into the back of his jacket. Which, he starts to realize, may not be as hard to give up than he once thought.

It’s strange. Only a few hours have passed since he warily started this trek into Riverdale, no expectations for the day aside from possible heat stroke and a stomach ache. Instead, he’s had too much time to think in between the stark juxtaposition of doctors and their wives wearing brand-new, bedazzled Harley Davidson gear and the worn leathers of the Southside riders. 

But no one is fighting. There’s laughter that rings over the peals of the bikes; a Skid Row cover band is playing in the gazebo and the entire crowd, from true-blue biker to the toddling twins dancing in the back, is into it. It’s not Northside versus Southside; it’s not rich versus poor; it’s simply people with shared interests having a good time.

If he really thinks about it, that’s all he wants. He doesn’t want Damocles’ sword hanging above his head with words like “birthright” and “king”; he wants to make his own name for himself instead of being a literal continuation of his father. He wants a chance to enjoy things in life without conditions.

Fuck it, he mutters to no one and with intent, sets off to find the owner of the elusive, blonde ponytail.

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

It is much too hot. After walking around for close to four hours, Jughead decides that today might not be his day after all. He’s seen exactly one blonde ponytail, and it was not attached to the same girl he’d seen on the ride in. 

Defeated, he pulls the beanie from his head and runs long fingers through his dark chestnut hair, breaking up the curls that cling to his sweaty brow. 

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks morosely. He’d said one day. He’d come for one day, and now, because he and some girl shared a moment—through the lens of her camera no less—he was planning on returning in the morning.

A fresh Marlboro between his fingers and beanie placed firmly back on his head, he turns toward his bike and home.

“Hey!” He hears a voice shouting. “Yo! Dude!”

Jughead turns and finds himself face to face with a redhead in a Bulldogs varsity jacket.

“Can I help you?” Jughead asks, his voiced colored with a hint of annoyance as he slowly takes a drag off his cigarette.

“Maybe,” the jock replies looking him up and down. “Can you tell me who rides a...uh…” he pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket, “...a 1950 Victor that looks like it’s been restored by God’s own hand?”

Jughead tries, and fails, to bite back a smirk. “I could.”

“Listen man, I’m asking for a friend. They’re writing an article about the best bikes and I got tasked with finding this one. Can you help me or not?”

“Your friend wants to write an article about my bike?” Jughead can’t help the incredulity that seeps into his question.

“Your bike?! Sweet! Listen...” the ginger pulls his phone out. “Shit, it’s too late now. Can you stop back in the morning, around nine?  Pop’s Mobile Shake Shack. Tell ‘em Archie sent you,” the redhead was already calling back over his shoulder as he ran through the crowd. 

Weird.

Weirder still...he plans on being there. If nothing else, well, how can anyone argue with breakfast milkshakes? 

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

It’s five minutes after nine. The sun, though not yet sweltering, still feels hot for it being this early. He’s surprised by how many people are already up and roaming the grounds, enjoying the out of town food trucks as he is. 

He’s currently in the middle of a delightful cajun style breakfast burrito complemented by one of Pop’s coffee milkshakes. Jughead’s always been the type to eat his feelings (and his metabolism seems to allow him to do so, so why kick a gift horse in the mouth. Do what you love and all that) and that’s pretty much all he’s done since meeting the red-haired boy. One text was enough to bring that slight high he was feeling right back down to impending doom. Apparently, his run-in with Toni and Fangs had made it back to the senior members. And they were not happy. 

According to them, Jughead’s hemming and hawing hadn’t gone unnoticed by the upper echelon, but—as FPs son—he was given a wider berth in regards to how he handled this decision. When you’re the Serpent heir, it’s expected that you’ll not only join but assert yourself leader ipso facto. The idea that he was even considering walking away entirely rubbed a lot of them the wrong way. 

“Birthrights are birthrights for a reason, boy. You were made for this; only this,” is what one pseudo uncle told him only an hour ago. A man who has known him the entirety of his life. A lifer himself with no higher aspirations, no desires greater than that of the gang. He thinks that all Jughead is good for in life is leading the pursuits of these people, this gang he still hasn’t truly taken an active role in. He’s an enforcer, a menacing intimidation, on occasion he’s procured a package or two. Having had the luxury of time after the encounter with his father he realized his largest foray into the illegal was working with car parts of questionable origin. But. He didn’t actually think of that whilst being berated and belittled.

While it was increasingly on his mind, he plans on walking that ever-shortening tightrope for as long as he possibly can. It isn’t that he hates the prospect of staying in the Serpents, he could be a lifer too if he thought anything would ever change. But the fact that the gang life, and life on the Southside, in general, seems to stagnate after eighteen, well, that’s just not him.

Jughead has always seen himself as capable of something more, at least he wants to be. He doesn’t want his future self, or his future spouse, to have to tell their children—with a fake, painted smile— that there aren’t going to be any birthday parties this year, or that they have to be out of their home in thirty days. 

Groaning to himself, Jughead indulges in another deep drag of his milkshake. The coffee is deep and rich on his tongue before his brain registers the cold. The shake hits the ground as his hands came up to massage his temples, a fool's attempt at alleviating his brain freeze.

“Hey Pop,” he hears, eyes pinched tight as the last of the pain subsides. “Did Archie happen to send anyone by?”

Jughead’s eyes shoot up, trying to focus on the figure moving toward him. She’s jogging, mere feet away, awash in the golden glow of morning, unmistakable honey-hued ponytail bouncing behind her. He takes in her features, clearly, for the first time. She’s in cut-off overalls that seem to be tailored just for her, coupled with what—gods help him—looks like a crop top, but the bandana tied off in the front draws his gaze to her face. Her eyes remind him of the Earth, blues and greens and golds melting together as if an endlessly deep pool; he could drown in them and die happily. “It’s you,” his voice is a hoarse whisper he barely recognizes as his own. 

She stops, releasing her lower lip from between her teeth, a soft smile blooming on her face instead. “I can’t believe Archie found you! I’m Betty.” Her hand extends forward and hovers in the air before him for just a second before he catches it with his. 

“Jughead Jones,” he knows he’s grinning idiotically but he can’t find it in himself to care. He instantly misses the warmth of her hand as it falls from his grasp. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

Betty’s head shakes, nose crinkling as she questions, “What’s me?”

“The writer. Right? That Archie guy said something about an article…” 

She nods as a soundless laugh pushes past her lips. “Yes—the article—that’s why I wanted to find you!” Her head falls to the side, ponytail brushing across the strap of her overalls, “That’s a pretty spectacular bike you’ve got there, Jughead.”

He really likes hearing his name come out of her mouth. “I do recall hearing something to the effect of ‘restored by God's own hand’. I liked that.”

Betty groans. “He actually said those words?” 

“Actually pulled out a piece of paper and read it. That’s some dedication to the cause. He your boyfriend?” Jughead bends down to pick up the milkshake he’s knocked over and tosses it in the garbage before striding toward her with as much casual affectation as he can muster.

“Oh, no. Archie’s...he’s not my boyfriend. Just a friend...who’s a boy, but not, like...” 

Jughead cannot, nor does he really want to, fight the smile that takes over his face. “Good to know.”

He isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the light that causes her skin to deepen to that shade of pink, or if it was his words, but he makes it his mission to see if he can get her skin that shade without the aid of natural sunlight.

“So…” Betty effectively interrupts his thoughts from slipping into the lascivious, causing his cheeks to burn in the slightest. “I know this is presumptuous, but I was really hoping I’d be able to interview you for the Riverdale Register. I’d really like to get some stationary shots of your bike as well as ask you a few hundred questions.” 

“That is beyond presumptuous,” he jokingly intones. There’s a sharp inhale as his abused, maroon Doc Martens stop just shy of her powder blue Keds. Jughead cocks his head as he pretends to mull over whether or not he’ll be a part of her story. Of course he will. But watching her nervously chew her bottom lip and clasp her hands in front of her in a silent plea to win him over, well, he thinks he could get used to being at the mercy of that particular gaze. 

“Pleaaase?” She all but squeaks out and he’s absolute putty. 

He shifts closer, his boot lightly scuffing against the toe of her pristine sneakers. 

“Fine, but don’t think for a second I’m doing this for free. Tit for tat, Betty,” his voice drawls in a husky timbre. He knows it’s risky, going this hard this early but he’s utterly bewitched. She, the physical embodiment of all his fantasies, is literally standing before him. As much as he knows he’ll do anything she asks of him, she doesn’t just yet. But by the way her eyes darken as she appraises him, he’s not too worried about how long that will take to find out. “I'm going to need another one of those milkshakes.”

“Is that all? You want a milkshake?” she coos demurely. 

Jughead nudges her shoe again. “I didn’t say that was all I wanted. There are funnel cakes and corn dogs and candy apples; to quote Templeton: it is a veritable smorgasbord.” 

Her laughter, and proximity, sends a shiver up his spine. “I’m kind of disappointed you didn’t sing that. You have earned yourself brownie points for casually throwing some ‘Charlotte’s Web’ into the conversation though.”

He pulls a hand up to his chin and crosses the other over his chest as if considering, “I suppose brownies are acceptable, too.” The way her laughter seems to float around him, blocking the noise of the growing crowd and shrouding him in warmth, is the very last thing he expected when he begrudgingly attended the Roll on Riverdale.

In his mind, the sweltering days of summer play out before him: she’s laughing at his corny jokes and pressing up against him as they ride his bike right out of Riverdale. This is very decidedly not him. He doesn’t crush. He’s not what you would call a ladies man by any stretch of the imagination, and he’s definitely not into fuck around games, but he’s been around a time or two. And it’s never been like this. Nothing has. This instantaneous draw; the inability to turn away coupled with a desperate desire to know how she tastes.  

“But maybe,” he pauses, taking everything in, how she smells (impossibly soft in the midst of hundreds of bikes), the way her tongue darts out to wet already glossed lips. “Maybe I’d like to get to know the girl who knew the make and model of my bike after seeing it for all of a minute. Especially since she wasn’t really even looking at it.” 

“Oh,” she all but breathes out. This time the color that tints Betty’s cheeks was undoubtedly his doing. Obviously flustered, she swallows, tightens her ponytail, and tries again. “If you have time today, we can get this out of the way and you can get back to…”

“I’m all yours, Betty.”

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

“So, what’s this article for?”

She picks at the soft pretzel she’s been holding for the duration of their walk, bringing the small bite to her mouth before carefully saying. “The Register.”

“The what now?” Jughead stops, adjusts the beanie on his head and runs an exaggerated hand down his face. “Look, Betty…Cooper! Fuck! You’re a Cooper!? How did I miss that?” (it might have had something to do with the fact that she had a crop top on under her overalls and his neanderthal brain latched onto that for a second longer than was healthy), “...maybe this isn’t the best idea.”

She looks almost crestfallen before her eyes drop. “I didn’t say I was a Cooper. For this very reason. I know what my parents are like, and what they write, but I’m not! I’d be writing this for the Blue and Gold if school were in session. I’ll probably re-run it in that if it’s any consolation. The Register isn’t the ideal choice for me either, but it’s a hell of a lot more exposure than the highschool newspaper.” 

He knows what that’s like. Trying to reach an ever-shrinking audience through a nearly dead medium, even if the Southside High’s Red and Black did have a pretty good online presence. Thanks to Fangs. It’s the first time he’s thought of the paper this summer, too preoccupied with his ending adolescence and what he always assumed would be his imminent interment with the Serpents. Now both of those things are up in the air. He’s no closer to knowing what he wants to do than yesterday. And somehow, the daughter of the two people who seem to revile the Southside most is standing in front of him with a level of enthusiasm he reserves for only the most ostentatious buffets. She sought him out, knowing what the symbol on his back meant, and thought that his bike was worth it.

“If you don’t want to do the interview, that’s fine. I won’t push you. But I did buy you another milkshake, and I think that entitles me to at least a few more pictures of the Black Lightning.”

His head snaps back up. There’s this pull to her he’s not sure he can, or wants to, fight. Familial allegiance be damned. For the first time in his life, Jughead’s putting himself before the pack and going after exactly what he wants. She’s smart, gorgeous, funny in a way that seems effortless and natural, and just happens to come wrapped up prettily in a blue bandana. “Color me perpetually impressed, Cooper. Alright, let’s go get your pictures. But we’re not staying here for the interview, I’ve had more than enough forced human interaction for one day.”

“I thought you wanted to eat your way through the interview?” He can tell she’s fighting a smile when she stops to throw what’s left of the massacred pretzel in the trash. She looks back a him, painfully pastel and almost shy, but she’s leaning toward him with the most wicked glint in her eyes and he’s done. 

“Oh, that hasn’t changed. Just the venue...and maybe the menu.” He winks as he steps away, setting off again for his bike. He hears her exhale sharply before jogging to catch up to him.

They talk shop for the rest of the walk. In the short time he’s known her, he’s become sure of two things: first, she knows what she’s talking about. Her knowledge of combustion engines in damn near encyclopedic, be it classic bikes or classic cars, she’s a greasemonkey through and through. That in itself would have been enough to catch his attention. But the second, and most obvious thing is that she is arguably the prettiest human he’s ever laid eyes on.  

Jughead isn’t sure what’s gotten into him. Watching her photograph his bike becomes a silent meditation on masochism, it’s the most exquisite torture he could have ever hoped to experience. She’s thorough, dangerously so, taking pictures from every angle to ensure that all of his meticulous detail is properly represented. 

That’s what she says anyway. He’s sure it has something to do with him meeting an early end. Each photo ensures another inch of skin exposed, the bottoms of her overalls having ridden up so much that the peachy flesh taunts and teases him with just how delectable it looks. He wonders how one person can be so unassumingly sexy and adorable at once. 

It’s just then that she chooses to look at him, left arm reaching across his bike for the handlebar. Slowly, as if her goal in life is to make him combust, she straddles the machine and rocks herself into a seemingly more comfortable position. 

The sun is fully behind her, bursting and glowing as the camera sits at her ample chest which his eyes can’t seem to look away from. She is, beyond words. Beckoning him with a single finger he—a complete lost cause— moves with purposeful strides to stand before her. He leans in close covering the hand closest to him with his own. They both watch as their fingers twine together around the grip, the feel of her skin beneath his own is electric. “Can I take you somewhere?” his voice sounds deeper to his own ears. He’s nervous, but how can one not be when their veritable dream girl has literally got 182 horsepower between her thighs.

She smiles, the tops of her lips straining toward her ears, and he thinks he could live off the buoyancy that look evokes for the rest of his days. “Anywhere.”

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

The ride to the quarry wasn’t nearly long enough. He couldn’t get enough of the way Betty had wrapped her arms around his body, teasing fingers over his stomach and clinging tightly to his chest. Or maybe it was too long. Either way, his fingers itch to touch her as he slows the bike to a stop. She dismounts before he gets the chance, taking a few steps out of his reach to look at their surroundings. He leans against the bike watching her take it all in. It’s usually quiet, but especially so in mid-morning, when the only sounds that break through the forest canopy are the ones that come from within: bird calls, the rustle of the wind through the leaves, and, somewhere off in the distance, the river rapids crashing on the bluffs below their feet. 

But all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears. 

Betty looks as caught up in the magic of the quarry as he feels. The smile on her face is soft and delicate as she weaves through the trees and makes her way to the cliff’s edge. Slowly, she turns back to face him, that damn bottom lip worrying between her teeth. 

He pushes off the bike and strides toward her. The sun's rays look like spotlights as they filter through the treetops, illuminating his path to her. (As if after seeing her he’ll ever be able to walk any other way than but to her.)

“I gotta give it to you, Jones, this is one hell of a view. Certainly sets a tone. Of course, if you brought me here to try and scare me into convincing my parents to stop trashing the Serpents you should know that one, they don’t listen to me. They don’t listen to anyone for that matter, but least of all me. And two,” she steps into his space, gingerly fingering the leather lapels of his jacket. “I don’t scare easy.”

He suppresses the urge to growl; it feels stuck in his throat when he speaks anyway. “Good to know.”

Her eyes are shining, the kind of luminous he could easily get lost in. Just an inch or two more, hell a stiff breeze would force their lips together and he’s sure when that happens, life as he knows it will end. Jughead wants nothing more than to kiss her. To feel her legs wrap around his waist as he carries her back to his bike, to lay her out on the modified seat and hear that pretty voice scream out his name 

Instead, he steps back, letting her hands fall away from where they still toyed with the zipper of his jacket. “Betty,” she looks confused as her eyes find his. “You’re the one who wanted to interview me. If that was a euphemism, I’m sorry. I’m not that kind of boy.”

“Oh no, Jughead. I do want to interview you. I’d really like to take your...get your take on party politics and how they only ever seem to hurt the disenfranchised, rather than help them.” She bats long lashes at him, stepping around where he’s rooted to the spot and heads back into the woods. 

He finds her under a large oak tree, resting her back against the trunk as she produces a small moleskin notebook and pen he has no idea where she could have had on her. She motions for him to sit, so he does, finding a tree of his own to get comfortable against.

“Tell me about your bike, Jughead.”

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

They talk for hours, neither really noticing the time passing them by because they’re so caught up in one another. He tells her all about the Vincent, how it came to be his, how much of him he’s put into it, and exactly what that’s cost him. 

He doesn’t mince his words or hide the gory details, with Betty, all the thoughts and fears that have been plaguing his mind fall from his lips without hesitation or restraint. How yesterday morning he was sure that riding his motorcycle through Riverdale wouldn’t change a thing, that at the end of the day he would still have to go back home and wonder how long his dad would be gone this time, or his mom; if he’d be parenting Jellybean while trying to juggle school and the garage and whatever misdemeanors the Serpents enlist him for that week.

She listens intently, jotting notes about his bike, his life, things he’s never said out loud to anyone. When she asks what he wants out of his life, he knows right then and there that no matter what path he chooses, he wants her. She doesn’t look through him so much as see him. Not the Serpent heir apparent, not some delinquent from the Southside, but the real and true Jughead Jones. The one that hides beneath the layers of flannel and self-deprecating sarcasm. The one that desperately needed to be seen before he was lost to the relentless tide of MC life. 

“You seem academically inclined enough,” she muses after discussing college. “Why don’t you go for the scholarship?”

“That’s pretty vague there: the scholarship. Of course, I’ll go for it,” he sits straighter, pulling his legs up and crossing his them at the ankles, arms slung loosely around akimbo knees. “I’m sure scholarship opportunities are available left and right on the Northside, but not in my world. If you can’t find it on your own, well, you’re fucked. Southside High isn’t known for its excellent staffing.”

Now she looks exceptionally confused. Making her way before him she crouches down so they’re back on the same level. “You know the Roll is a charity event right?”

He nods. “And?”

“Wow, you really wanted nothing to do with the Roll, did you?” Her laugh is mirthless as her hand moves to his knee. “I’m not surprised really. It wasn’t officially announced until the last minute and no one ever seems to pay attention to the small details.”

Jughead clears his throat. “Is this diatribe leading to something or…”

“Jug, the proceeds from the Roll are being set up as a scholarship fund. Some deserving Southside High senior stands to receive state school tuition for at least a few years. But even just talking to you this short time I can tell that no matter what you do, you’ll make it. I know Riverdale seems like sunshine and rainbows north of the tracks, but it’s not. No matter what side you’re on, it’s a teenage wasteland.”

He wonders if she knows that he sees her too. 

His hands fall from his knees, one making its way to push a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear. He just wants to—needs to—touch her. She doesn’t seem to mind, she leans in as his thumb swipes over her cheekbone. They’re so close, her hands moving from his knee to his chest as she fists the leather gathered between them, breath hot on his neck. He slips his other hand around her waist, large palm splayed against the small of her back as his other moves down her body.

Betty’s pupils are near black as he pulls her into his lap, her legs wrapped around him feels better than he imagined they would. When their lips meet for the first time, it’s in a move so gradual, so instinctual, that it feels inevitable. Tentative and soft, he tries to pour every ounce of gratitude and appreciation into her. He thinks briefly about how everyone says that fireworks are the hallmark of a good kiss, but Jughead could not agree less. This isn’t fireworks; this is something that starts so much deeper. There’s definitely fire, but it rises slowly through his body like damp wood catching. He feels warmth building in parts of himself that have laid cold and dormant for so long, it’s glowing ember versus fully-fledged flame. Heat courses through him, molten like lava, as she slides her tongue past his lips. He groans, pulling her even closer, fingers sliding through her ponytail and pulling at the ends. The moan that escapes her brings him back to the present. 

He pulls away abruptly. “Do you really think I can do it? Get the scholarship?” She’s dazed, kissed breathless and by the twinge of her brow, confused. 

“That’s what you’re thinking about in the middle of our moment?”

He smiles, truly hopeful for the first time in longer than he can remember. “Baby, this is just one of many, many moments I plan on having with you.”

[greyias]

FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 9

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |  Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Crossposted to AO3

Theron had been right about the communications. As soon as the strike team got on the ground, their signal nearly winked out and only became viable after Darok’s men erected a temporary signal amplifier to cut through the noise. Even with the that, the signal from Bickell’s armor cam wavered wildly on the holoprojector, making the images captured look like something out of a funhouse mirror.

Of course, that was the only thing remotely “fun” about what they were witnessing.

Chaos reigned as far as the wavy, static camera could see. Sediment had been kicked up and hung in the air in giant clouds, natural rock and stone blasted and scattered about, nearly indistinguishable from the ancient ruins that had been in the process of being delicately excavated and renovated. So many of the Tythonian and Jedaii ruins he’d remembered from Theron’s one trip to the planet now reduced to rubble.

He had a hard time placing the feeling welling up inside him at seeing the destruction wrought on the past. They had just done the same to Korriban, but that hadn’t hit him in the same way at all. On one hand, he was not a Jedi. Technically this wasn’t his past or his culture anymore that had been attacked — but there was a small part of him that still… it was stupid. He tried to shove that feeling down with the rest of everything he was very studiously ignoring. Because that was how the job was done.

The camera moved as Bickell started to step out onto the field, but the image jerked wildly as its wearer was yanked back. Moments later, the a mortar shell obliterated the spot the soldier was about to step into. The cacophony in Theron’s headset nearly deafened him while the image from Bickell’s camera stilled into something less likely to trigger motion sickness as the lieutenant and the rest of his squadron ducked back into the relative safety of the landing zone.

“Thank you, Master Jedi.” Somehow over the ringing in his ears, Theron was only able to make out just the slightest quaver in Bickell’s voice. Apparently the close call was enough to rattle even the SpecOp officer’s nearly unflappable demeanor.

“We must look out for each other.” Highwind’s voice was pleasant and warm, and probably meant to be comforting. “It appears that we have quite the task before us.”

“Yeah,” Theron cut in over the comm, “that was definitely a close call.”

“What am I looking at here, Theron?”

“Sensor data is sketchy, but from what I’ve been able to decipher the Imps have dug their heels in, all the way to the temple.”

“I suppose we should expect nothing less,” she said mildly, although there was something in her tone that somehow let him know there was a considerable amount of emotion being suppressed. He could sympathize.

“That heavy artillery is going to make for a lot of casualties if we attempt any large-scale deployment.”

“Then we must do something about that.”

Her small but striking figure stepped into the view of the camera as she surveyed the scene before her. Most subtle expressions would have been hard to interpret with the wildly dancing image, but her deep frown was still evident on this end.

“Sensor data is sketchy at best. The Imp’s signal scrambling is doing a number on getting reliable data.”

Without any preamble, she pulled out a set of macrobinoculars, presenting them to the camera feed. “Can you patch into these?”

He couldn’t readily identify the make or model of the device, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Get me an uplink.”

She made a motioning gesture, and Theron heard Teeseven’s telltale whistle as the droid rolled into view. A quick connection to the port of the macrobinoculars to the astromech later, and the device online. 

A message flashed in the HUD on Theron’s ocular implants: T7 = establishing uplink now.

Theron’s fingers flew across the keyboard: Nice to see you again, buddy.

T7 + Theron = unstoppable slicing force.

Despite himself, he let a little grin slip. You got that right. You ready to show these Imps who’s boss?

T7 = always ready.

Yeah, okay. Theron could see why Highwind was fond of the little guy.

The display of the macrobinoculars appeared in the HUD, and he absently grabbed a datapad to help sort through the sensor data that was now flooding through. Those were some very fancy macrobinoculars. Fancier than some he could get from the SIS — and if the situation had been any different, he might have grilled Highwind on where she managed to acquire this kind of tech on a Jedi’s budget. A mystery for later, he reminded himself.

So many mysteries with this woman.

“That structure just behind that line of trees there — can you zoom in on that?”

“Hold on,” Highwind said, following his instructions.

A line of data streamed across his vision, and he frowned as he realized what he was looking at. “That’s it. Damn crafty bastards.”

“What?”

“That’s a Republic artillery targeting array — looks like they decided to take up recycling after trashing the place. It’s what feeding coordinates to the bombardment.”

“I see.” In his mind’s eye, he imagined her lips pressing into a thin line. “Would taking that out stop the artillery so the rest of the troops can land?”

“Yes, but I don’t see how—”

“Leave this to me.”

The feed from the macrobinoculars shifted, zooming out before being set down on a slightly shorter surface. Judging by the height, probably on top of Teeseven’s head.

Over the earpiece, Theron could hear Doc groaning. “Oh no, she’s got that look in her eye again.”

Scourge let out what sounded like the longest, most suffering sigh that could have ever been breathed, a sound Theron hadn’t quite imagined he’d ever hear from a Sith.

Kira cut in quickly, “Maybe I can—”

All of it was cut off instantly when the Jedi in question spoke to them firmly. “You all stay here. I will not be long.”

“Wait,” Theron said, realization slowly dawning that the Defender’s crew seemed to be catching onto something quicker than him, “what exactly is your—?”

A rush of noise took over the audio feed, completely drowning him out. Theron’s gaze cut back over to the feed from Bickell’s armor cam to see the flickering image of a caped figure racing across the battlefield and blasting site at an almost inhuman speed. She bounded from one spot to the next, looking like a rabbit merely hopping about. Showers of dirt and rock exploded into the air as the bombardment followed in her wake.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Theron tried to yell, but the cacophony on the other end drowned him out. There was no way she could hear him, and even if she could, it was doubtful he’d be able to hear any reply over the explosions.

The feed from Bickell’s camera showed that Doc, Rusk, and the rest of the strike team with long range weaponry were laying down cover fire against the ground troops from the relative safety of the landing zone. The targeting array lay at just the edge of the camera’s visual range, and Theron could just make out the clearly insane Jedi whirling in and taking out the guards with lightsabers and the aid of her team’s cover fire. And then.

Then she stopped.

If Theron was being honest with himself, for just one moment, something in his chest thudded to a halt. His breath caught in his throat as the tiny figure on the camera tipped her face to the sky as if she were calling out a challenge. Comprehension dawned on him and he realized what she was doing. But he could only watch in horrified fascination to see if her daft plan would be successful.

It was dangerous. Insane. And if Theron Shan had been gifted with the Force, with all of the extra physical prowess it granted, he was pretty sure it would be something he would try.

His feed beeped at him as the sensors lit up, indicating incoming fire.

“You’ve got a bombardment heading your way,” he growled at her.

“Perfect,” she said, and he was pretty sure he could hear a grin in her voice.

On the wavering feed, Theron watched as she bounded off, cape fluttering behind her as the bombardment came down on the position she had just been in — and took the targeting array with it in an explosion of fire, metal, and smoke that completely obscured the camera’s feed.

As the smoke began to clear, the image did as well, and he could make out Highwind marching back toward the troops. Her cape billowed behind her in full, and between her bearing, the sunlight glinting off her armor, and the grim determination set on her face, she looked like some sort of avenging angel.

Theron’s heart started thumping in his chest in full-time again, even if maybe it skipped one beat or two at the sight. He didn’t notice that as the blood rushed back through his veins, and a wave of relief — and something else he didn’t have the time nor patience to identify — rushed over him, leaving him almost light headed.

Had it been another time or place, he might have even admitted that the entire spectacle was more than a little bit of a—

“Your Jedi is insane, Shan.”

Theron turned his glare onto Darok, although he couldn’t exactly argue with the sentiment as something similar had been running through his head. Similar, but not exactly the same. He shifted on his feet uncomfortably, took in a deep breath, and let it out.

Focus, he reminded himself.

“Does that help any?” Highwind asked in that maddeningly deceptive calm of hers, although Theron could still detect just a hint of smugness peeking through.

And for some reason, it was that that made Theron forget himself, for just a moment. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have gotten killed!”

“It worked, though.”

A horrible, no-good thought entered Theron’s mind: Was this what Marcus Trant felt like every day? No. No, she would not have him sympathizing with Marcus over his own stunts in the line of duty. He almost missed the raised eyebrow from Darok, probably amused over the spy clearly having zero control over his asset. In a fit of pique, Theron shoved away from the console to the most remote corner of the room, his voice dropping into an approximation of that deceptive calm Highwind seemed so quick to employ.

“And what would have happened if you had died pulling that stunt?”

“I didn’t — the Force was with me.”

That calm slipped away from him. Theron was never really that good at holding onto it anyway. “This time.”

“I am open to alternative plans if you have a better idea on gaining more ground.” 

Theron ground his teeth together, snorting out a breath, as that little voice in the back of his mind reminded him in almost a mocking tone that he was her handler. It was his job to get her to perform — and she had done so admirably. Flashy even. Better than he could have if he’d been there. And he had no idea about what part of that bothered him the most. If any of that was even the real issue.

“You do realize there are two more targeting arrays just like that one?”

She let out a quiet breath, as if maybe, just maybe, that hadn’t occurred to her. “Two more?”

“I doubt they’re just going to blow up the other two for you, no matter how fancy your footwork.”

“Well…” Was that a bit of consternation peeking through that Jedi calm? “I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

After this was over, Theron was taking up drinking. Heavily.

[gothamdetected-a]

multiverse.

i know what you’re thinking. sim are you absolutely fucking insane, don’t even TRY to tackle this one. you’re right i am insane. and yes i am still going to try and tackle a meta about DC multiverses HOWEVER, to give myself on shred of sanity on this treacherous journey, i will say that this is mainly going to be about the multiverse from a bruce perspective. this ride is a batman focused train i’m afraid. also i want to state that this is by no means a perfect explanation – i’m a) trying to keep it simple and b) still am lost on parts of the timeline myself so. its what i can offer.

ok so, originally NCP, or the national comics publication (who will one day become DC), wrote their golden age heroes on an earth now designated as earth-2. in the 30s, just before the war, comic books absolutely exploded as a media format, and a bunch of companies all jumped the gun on creating superheroes. many of DCs most endearing and recognisable heroes were created all the way back then, however many of them also are not quite who you will recognise as the character today. hal jordan wasn’t green lantern, but was instead a man called alan scott, jay garrick was the flash instead of barry allen etc etc. don’t worry though! batman is still batman, and has been bruce wayne since 1939. earth-2 batman, as he will come to be known, is a bright kind of guy found on technicolour pages with a cute lil robin by his side – there is a reason for this. the war. literally NCP said we cant be sending out dark and gritty comics to people dying in trenches so time to make it colourful and faintly ridiculous, and bruce wayne is a surprisingly optimistic guy for a man who watched his parents be slaughtered in front of him.

of course, by the 60s, NCP (who are also sort of known as NPP and really known by your average joe as superman-dc, based on their most successful comic runs) had realised their timelines were getting a bit squiggly for their golden age heroes, and most of them had been replaced out by their silver age counterparts anyway. so between 1961 and 1963, NCP start creating another “earth”, officially designated earth-1, which would become their main planet for all kinds of superhero shenanigans. the justice society of america becomes the justice league of america, and when you think of batman, you’re probably thinking of earth-1 batman. at least pre crisis. and, once they get taste for building whole new earths, we also get earth-3 (1964), or “opposite world”, where the good guys are bad guys, and batman is owlman and instead of the jla we have the crime syndicate of america.  

so sim, what other earths did dc come up with? well, i literally refuse to list them all because it was a multiverse and they did not slow down, but the ones that are most important to me are earth-5 where the only hero to live on this planet is bruce wayne/batman, and earth-89 where lois marries bruce instead of clark ahAHAHHAA. but i can tell you that pre-crisis there are 91 designated earths, and basically it could have gone on forever. there was an earth-c minus, earth-124.1, an earth where everyone was reptiles, honestly it was a MESS. and therein lies the problem.

now i’ve just used the term “pre-crisis”. what’s that, sim? maybe you’re not very familiar with comics, or with the recent dctv version of said comics, and so i will endeavour to explain one of the most brain numbing storylines that spans DC. also known as a retcon. see all these earths with their own histories and heroes and well everything really was becoming very inconvenient and meant a lot of world jumping and who can interact with who and everything was getting like spaghetti because they couldn’t calm down on the earth-building. so DC (who are officially DC at this point, 1977 babeyy), specifically a guy called marv wolfman (coolest name ever) who was sick of so many earths, comes up with the bright idea that will later form into a comic run called crisis on infinite earths (1985-1986). it was a serious crossover event, really considered by many to be the first of its kind. it sold extremely well, boosting dc’s flagging sales against it’s biggest rival, marvel. and as for the plot, it’s a bit convoluted but essentially some bloke turns up and starts to destroy all these worlds, and it becomes a race between the heroes and villains as to who can save/conquer the remaining earths that are left. although there are crises before and after this specific run, pre-crisis basically always refers to this particular crisis event, as it really shaped DC for the next 30 years.

for a while the retcon does an okay job of keeping the number of earths low. there’s still some earths that are considered non-continuous floating around, but mainly there’s just earth-1, which is now a merger of the most important “earths” that existed pre-crisis, and a way for all of DCs heroes to now be in one place and interact with each other. other earths at this point include;

earth-23 (1986) – a small pocket dimension

earth-17 (1990) – we don’t talk about this. honestly spare yourself and. don’t look. its horrific.

earth-27 (1990) – a historically divergent planet with a hero actually called vegetable man.

earth-85 (1987) – a hodgepodge of post-crisis characters live here, chillin

earth-988 (1990) – superboy is the only hero in this universe

the antimatter universe – all of pre-crisis’ earth-3 villains, including owlman, get shoved here for later use when dc need a couple of villains to come back.

and for a while all is well. then comes DC elseworlds (1989). which. you know. i love. it gave me victorian batman. pirate batman. caveman batman. vampire batman. frankenstein batman. terrorist batman fighting against russian!superman. they even gave me marvel crossovers, with captain america meeting batman. it was a glorious time. technically elseworlds is not considered canon, ran outside of canon as a way for writers to explore those wacky kind of worlds lost to the crisis, which is dumb because some of the plot lines are both hilarious and incredible. but the numbers started to get ridiculous again. most elseworlds are named after the year that the plot takes place in, so we get earth-1889, earth-1938 etc, but even more of them just seem to have random designations. i think by the time they reached earth-5050 they sort of knew that theyd fucked up again. we’ve had zero hour, we’ve got hypertime and kingdom come, and besides, its been a while since they had a good crossover, so by the time 2005 rolls around its time for crisis pt 2 (because dc love to use the word crisis for crossovers) or as it’s officially known infinite crisis. infinite crisis has an even more confusing plot involving a bunch of slightly nuts versions of characters escaping a pocket dimension, earths being created and then merged, and a rogue ai which batman made and then has to destroy because his own creation becomes too powerful etc etc. the only good thing to come out of it was earth-0, or bizarro world, because bizarro & batzarro are my babies. don’t worry though, this new set of earths won’t last long either, as in 2008 DC conclude their trilogy of crises with final crisis that featured one of the most important events in batman’s history – darkseid “killing” him. yes the quotations are important. i’ll leave you to infer what they mean.

so 3 crises later and everything is still just as messy as they’ve ever been and there’s 60 years worth of comic history being tangled about, and marvel had already established a very successful reboot in 2000, and anything marvel do, we can do better, so DC do their first, full and proper reboot. unlike retcons before it, which is where they retroactively try to fix what people already know and simplify timelines & earths, this is like someone shaking the etch-a-sketch and starting fresh. back in infinite crisis an arbitrary number was assigned to how many “earths” there could be – 52. and so in 2011, DC go hey that’s neat and create what becomes known as the new- or nu-52. heroes are given shiny new backstories, everything is streamlined and wonderful, sales rise, DC has a clean slate to build off again.

ha.

yeah that doesn’t happen.

this reboot, also known as flashpoint, due to it being spawned from another big ol’ crossover of the same name, shows barry allen trapped in an alternate universe where everything is not quite right – his mother is alive, superman is nowhere to be found and he doesn’t have his powers. worst of all thomas wayne is batman. yeah, batman’s dad is batman. thanks DC, i hate it. reverse-flash has tried to change history and stop the jla from ever being formed – le gasp. barry goes to fix it, merges three universes together – earth-0, which isn’t a bizarro world but now the “main" earth, also called new earth or prime earth (DC), earth-13 (vertigo) and earth-50 (wildstorm), but also causes 10 years to be “lost” to these characters. there are now 52 brand spanking new earths, each sitting in their own universe as part of the multiverse. no one remembers anything except barry. even for a reboot and convergence of DC’s franchises, it’s messy as fuck. and it goes to shit very very quickly. people don’t really like n-52. DC have cancelled everything, certain characters such as cassandra cain-wayne are fucking ERASED from existence, no one likes the new costume designs, its an absolute shit show and the plots get very confusing very quickly.

so what do DC do?

they reboot again. sigh.

only 5 years after the mess of nu-52, they produce DC rebirth, a new relaunch of all their famous runs. brainiac does some magic and collects a bunch of worlds together and magically we’re all going to forget the last 5 years of comic hell. it is a reboot to retcon flashpoint as though that never happened. yes, DC are actually retconning their own reboots. talk about sweeping it under the carpet. technically “rebirth” only ran for a year as a promotional thing for the reboot, before joining with the larger, now-singular DC universe, however everyone still calls it rebirth because if we don’t give these things names it will get even more fucking confusing than it already is. rebirth also still has 52 universes making up the DC multiverse, just to make things even more simple and easy to understand (DC what is it with 52. why 52.) although lots of the earths in this multiverse have been re-designated – eg. pre-crisis earth-31 was home to an aged batman who fakes his death to go train a bunch of new vigilantes (the dark knight returns), and now 31 is an apocalyptic wasteland or some shite. a lot of these earths were re-designated during the flashpoint/nu-52 era, and even though rebirth was supposed to erase that, DC have decided never mind we’ll keep it. there’s also 7 mysteriously undesignated earths – ooh spooky, they definitely won’t feature in the next major crossover. also for a multiverse with 52 universes, they sure do have more than 52 : there’s the microverse, a bunch of universes collectively called “the sphere of the gods” where apokalips and like, literal heaven & hell exist, an innerverse???, dreamworld, limbo, DC are taking the piss they only said there were 52 earths but that means they can make as many other shitty dimensions and pocket-universes as they please apparently. don’t even get me started on the source wall. for the most part the writers just. don’t acknowledge this and stick to the main prime earth. for the most part. thanks for throwing thomas wayne as batman back into the mix, rebirth.

so that’s the last of it, right sim? eh, almost. it should have been the last of it, really. and then geoff johns couldn't keep his mouth shut and produced possibly the worst comic in recent history, if not ever, doomsday clock. now doomsday clock is a nightmare for an impossibly long list of reasons that i won’t get into here because this isn’t a rant about why i think doomsday clock is the worst thing to ever happen to dc (although that’s a catchy title i should use that some day) - no, the reason i bring up doomsday clock is because. oh my god even saying this makes me sad. doomsday clock proves that the pre-crisis universes still exist and are still out there. somewhere. canonically. sim why is that sad i thought you liked everything pre-52. it’s sad because it means at any point now, DC could bring them back, ruin their own legacy, make everything even more confusing than it already is. i love pre-52 stuff but you gotta leave it alone. currently doomsday clock has only established that these universes exist as a way to honour every era of superman, because DC didn’t want to completly erase some of the incredible work and storylines put into him as a character. fine, fair enough. but it does leave the possibility that they will try and return to them too. comic book writers love doing funky story lines like that. they think they need to write something that’s never been done before and instead of coming up with something actually unique, they just poke around in the multiverse WHICH IS HOW WE ENDED UP WITH THIS AS A PROBLEM IN THE FIRST PLACE.

ahem.

hopefully this helped clarify some stuff for people, especially those folks who aren’t big comic fans/expereience dc through the DCEU or DCTV, when encountering rpers who say they base their characterisation off of, for example pre-n52/flashpoint comics, like myself.

oh, and thank you for coming to my ted sim talk.

[scenes-in-between]

Daemonicus

(pre-episode)

In the week after the explosion on the ship, Scully barely sleeps. When her fears about William aren’t keeping her awake, she is bolting upright at every little sound coming from the hallway outside her apartment. When she does sleep, her dreams are a parade of one calamity after another befalling Mulder, out there on his own.

Oddly, she takes some comfort in the fact that these dreams are always different; she still can’t explain the dreams she had when he was missing before, the ones Mulder quietly confirmed were somehow representative of what he had endured, but they were always the same. This time around, it is possible to convince herself that these are normal nightmares, mere products of stress and worry, nothing more.

She forces herself to leave the apartment, once a day, to check her anonymous email account from an internet cafe in Georgetown. Her stomach knots tighter and tighter each time she accesses an inbox that is as empty as it was the day before. Sometimes, if William is asleep in the stroller, she finds herself ducking into the church on the way home, praying that tomorrow will be the day she finally hears from him.

It takes two and a half weeks for those prayers to be answered.

Her heart leaps to her throat at the sight of the bolded You have 1 new message notification. Tears of relief and longing spring to her eyes as she reads the single line of text within.

“Safe for now, though I can confirm the threat was genuine. Are you safe?”

She doesn’t know how to answer that. Between the incident with the mobile, what she found (and didn’t find) on the Navy ship, and everything that Shannon McMahon claimed, two weeks ago she had serious doubts about whether she and William were safe. However, looking over her shoulder constantly since then has revealed no indication of an imminent threat. That doesn’t mean there isn’t one, but if she shares her worries with him, he might try to return prematurely, and it is clear from his message that that would be a dangerous mistake.

Her fingers tremble as she taps out a reply.

“I cannot tell you what a relief it is to read your words. Not hearing from you for so long, I feared the worst. Please keep yourself safe, and do not worry about us. I miss you very much, but I am thankful beyond measure that you are alive.

Yours, D”

That night, for the first time since he left, her sleep is deep and dreamless.

***

Two months pass.

They manage to establish a delicate correspondence; there is no pattern or regularity to it, and each time she hears from him is a gift she does not take for granted. The ability to maintain this link with him, however tenuous, affords her a measure of strength through their separation that she might not otherwise have had. Life moves on in a way that could almost pass for normal. 

As her maternity leave nears its end, she finds herself feeling conflicted about returning to work. She misses it, without question, but she also knows too well the dangers that exist out in the field, and the thought of one day not making it home to William is utterly terrifying. (Never mind that the X-Files unit really only requires two agents, and she has no wish to displace Monica, who seems to be thriving in the assignment.) It comes as an unexpected relief, then, when AD Skinner hesitantly suggests, as though he’s afraid of offending her, that she might consider taking a position at Quantico.

***

“Where are you going, Monica?” “This man Kobold can help us, John. I’m going to prove it to you.”

Monica stalks out of the autopsy bay, and after a pause, John heaves a frustrated sigh and starts to follow.

“Agent Doggett?” comes a quiet voice from behind him when his hand is on the door.

He looks back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

Agent Scully’s tongue touches the corner of her mouth, an obvious tell that she’s nervous about saying whatever she’s about to say. “I know you’re frustrated. That you feel like… like the answer here is obvious, only no one can seem to see it but you.”

“Gee, can’t imagine why I’d feel like that.” He releases the door, turning fully and crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, if you’re gonna try and tell me that I should ignore evidence, ignore what my gut is saying on this guy Kobold--”

“I’m not. I’m not suggesting that at all.”

“Well what, then?”

He can see her choosing her words carefully, and it irks him. He doesn’t need to be patronized, least of all by her. Once upon a time, they were comfortable enough with each other to forego all this dancing around and careful tending of egos.

“The cases in the X-Files… you know as well as I do that they often require… a different approach than a standard investigation.”

“The hell they do. I’ve been at this for almost a year and a half, and not once has a case required me to believe in voodoo, or demonic curses, or aliens in order to solve it.”

“That’s not what I mean, exactly.”

Well now he’s confused. “Okay. Well, what do you mean?”

“When I worked with-- When you and I worked together, we didn’t always share the same theories about whatever we were trying to solve.”

It’s not lost on him that she was about to start with a Mulder story and then course-corrected. 

“Right…” he says, not entirely sure where she’s going with this.

“And very often, those differing theories and perspectives were what kept the investigation moving forward, when it otherwise might have stalled out. In fact, that’s exactly why many of the cases became X-Files in the first place. The standard approach wasn’t enough to solve them.”

“Come on, I don’t buy that. Just because local LEOs, or even some other agent in the Bureau, couldn’t get the job done, doesn’t mean the approach is wrong.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” She’s giving him the full, earnest, Dana Scully Serious Face and goddamnit if his heart doesn’t skip a beat. “How many times did we get a break in a case just because one of us was looking in a direction the other one didn’t think of? Even if the final result was something completely ordinary.”

She’s not wrong. But…

“Yeah, and how many times did we waste days or even weeks barking up the wrong tree?”

“I guess my point, Agent Doggett, is that you get better results when you…  bark up as many different trees as possible.”

“Even when I’m damned sure my tree is the right one?”

“Yes. Even then.”

He sighs. “You can’t ask me to ignore the fact that Monica is being led around by her nose on this case. Being manipulated by someone who is definitely out of his mind and very possibly also a murderer.”

“Don’t ignore it, no. And keep watching her back. But don’t stop her from pursuing her own line of inquiry, either, even if whatever she’s pursuing doesn’t make sense to you right now.”

“I don’t like it,” he says with a scowl, shaking his head. “But all right. I’ll try to give her some room to do her thing. But if I think she’s putting us in danger listening to this guy, I’m pulling the plug.”

[damienthepious]

>:3c hey i got two this week. happy LKT babes!!

Scattered On My Shore (Chapter 3)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [ao3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [Ch 19]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery,  Hurt/Comfort,  (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol)

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: Sir Damien and Rilla discuss the issue at hand.

Chapter Notes: did u want: canon typical Damien spiraling? <3

~~

Arum is stable, the offending injury has been cleaned again and sealed and dressed and hopefully, hopefully, this time it will actually start to heal. Rilla’s mind buzzes, exhaustion and adrenaline and the satisfaction of a problem solved. That little shard of black talon (definitely talon, now that she’s seen it up close; add the satisfaction of a called shot, too) is safely and carefully stashed away in a clean sealed vial for later analysis, where it can’t do any more harm. And Arum-

The sedative probably won’t wear off for hours. Probably for the best, considering how exhausted he was before he went under. It’s probably just her imagination, just wishful thinking, but he looks… calmer. Like his sleep is more restful, now, than it had been. Imagination or no, she takes some satisfaction in that, too.

Rilla washes her hands, splashes her face, and when she meets her own eye in the little mirror above her washbasin she sees the bags under her eyes and the hair clouding around her face and the manic tilt to her expression and she- laughs.

Damien. Oh, Damien-

What the hell is she going to do about him?

She could be irritated with him just for coming into her exam room, whether or not the door was locked, but- well, it’s not like he wouldn’t have some rule breaking to throw back in her face. She sighs, dragging her palm over her mouth and noting the visible exhaustion that’s making her shoulders sag.

Well. No point putting it off, right?

She checks on Arum one more time, resettling the blankets more securely around his shoulders, ensuring that he’s warm enough, leaving a cup of water beside the bed in case he wakes before she does (whatever happens with Damien, however she gets him out of her hair, she’s going to get some sleep after this, she needs to).

Dead asleep, still, but- he mutters something, some whispery wordlessness as the back of her hand presses to his forehead to make sure his temperature is still consistent, and the breathy murmur and the way his resting expression goes even softer makes Rilla gently smile before she can help herself, and her brain is still buzzing as she thinks, rest well, you ridiculous monster, and heal.

She steps away from the cot, and she sighs, then. This next part is going to be unpleasant.

Damien is pacing in a straight line when she exits the exam room, turning on his heel to keep going in the same stuck path before he registers that she’s joining him, and then his eyes widen.

“Oh my heart, you are safe! Oh, my dearest Rilla, I was terrified that you had been- I felt only moments from bolting in to ensure that you had not been-”

“Damien. I wasn’t in danger,” she says, keeping her voice low and gesturing for Damien to follow her as she steps away from the door to the exam room, away from the possibility of waking Arum accidentally. Her hut isn’t that big, and it’s not like they could have this conversation outside, but they can at least stand in the kitchen, a little ways away where they won’t literally be shouting (she assumes they’ll end up shouting, frankly) so damn close to Arum.

“I know you are terribly brave, my love,” Damien says as he stumbles behind. “But surely even you must understand- I do not know what sort of- of experiment you are intending to run, but I must advise-”

“He’s not an experiment,” Rilla growls, bristling because she already, already regrets the brief window during which she… did kind of think of him that way. He deserves better than that.

“Regardless, regardless of the why, it cannot continue, surely you must understand that. The danger- the danger the creature presents, to yourself, to any other patients you may have, to the Citadel itself! Rilla surely you can see that it must be destroyed-”

“You’re not touching him, Damien. He’s my patient-”

“It is a monster-”

“Yeah, I gathered that Damien, thanks, but you still aren’t touching him. He’s my patient, and he’s one of a kind, and he’s not gonna hurt me. If he wanted to, he definitely already would have tried something. He’s still weak as hell but he’s stubborn and he would have tried, if he really wanted.”

“Of course the monster wants to hurt you, my precious flower. That is simply what monsters do.”

Rilla scowls hard, turning away from him to pull the curtains aside, realizing with no small degree of wonder that it’s dark outside again. Already. Already? Before she woke Arum to discuss pulling the talon out, she’s sure it couldn’t have been much past sunrise. Saints she needs to sleep. But before she can-

“Damien, I’m gonna put this as simply as I can. He is my patient. That means that it’s my job to take care of him, and to make sure he’s safe and that his injuries are treated. I’m finally at a point where I’m making progress, and-”

“Finally,” Damien echoes, his brow furrowing as his thoughts churn. “Finally? How long have you- how long has this been going on, precisely?”

“Few days,” Rilla says, noncommittal. She- she isn’t quite sure, anymore. She’s been keeping hourly notes, coded longhand, but she’d put it on pause for the surgery, and-

“So,” he says, sounding pained, “when I came to you last, and asked-”

“I lied,” she says flatly. “I lied, because I knew you would respond like this.”

“I am attempting to do my duty, my love. I must protect you and every citizen of the Citadel, must cleanse the monsters' blight upon this land-”

“Not this monster,” Rilla says. “Not him. He doesn’t need cleansing.” She grins, a little wildly. “I already disinfected him pretty thoroughly.”

“You cannot jest about this, Rilla. Surely, surely you know I cannot allow this, it is-”

“Treason?”

Damien blanches, his face going vaguely ashen, and his voice is near-mournful when he answers. “Rilla, my heart, my forever-flower you know that I would never accuse you of something so vile-”

“Even if it’s technically true?”

Damien’s entire expression freezes, as if she has stabbed him. “You can’t mean that. You wouldn’t-”

“He was hurt, Damien,” Rilla says. “And I’m a doctor. I’m just doing my job, as far as I’m concerned. But I very much doubt that the Citadel will see it that way.”

“He is a monster, my love- he could- he could do anything to you, he could kill you or steal you away or-”

Rilla rolls her eyes. “Or lie in bed complaining about the fact that he’s too weak to even stand. Oh no. Whatever will I do to defend myself against the constant annoyance of monsterkind.”

“Rilla you have seen as well as I have the cruelties done by its ilk, the violence and pain! Any benevolence must be a trick, it must be, meant to lull you into a false sense of safety around such a dangerous beast! A devious machination, meant to make you lower your guard for the moment he will strike and then what, my dearest love? What will happen, when you, with your gentle miraculous healing hands, deliver the beast back to strength enough that he may enact his plan? Oh Saint Damien protect us, what will happen when he has been healed enough to harm again? What then, my Rilla?”

“He’s not gonna hurt me,” Rilla says, entirely dismissive. “He won’t. He-” she interrupts herself with a deep yawn, jaw going wide as tears pop into her eyes. “Oh, Saints. I thought I could have this argument right now but I absolutely can’t, Damien. Can you please just trust me, at least enough not to do anything tonight? Go back to the Citadel and we can talk about this in the morning. Right now, I’ve barely slept since I found him, and now that I think I’ve finally dealt with the worst of it and got him stable- I could really use a frickin’ nap.”

“No,” Damien says, slashing his hand through the air. “No, I refuse to leave you helpless and unprotected while that- that creature-”

“My patient.”

“Awaits a moment of weakness! Awaits a moment of vulnerability, wherein he may creep close and destroy you, or curse you, or- or any number of terrible intentions that could come to pass the very instant your mind is settled into well-deserved rest, my love. I cannot stand idly by while-”

“Oh for Saints’ sake, Damien, he’s sedated. He’s not going to slit my throat in my sleep. I promise.”

“It could all be a trick, Rilla. Even with your brilliant mind- the machinations of monsterkind are often more clever than one would expect, and what if this is all some scheme? You are a genius, my Rilla, the greatest doctor in all of the Citadel, and certainly the monsters at large are aware of your prowess, are aware of how many precious lives you have personally gentled back to the realm of the living after countless heinous beasts have expended their most vicious effort to send them to their grave! A doctor of your skill and status- surely monsterkind must be desperate to remove your ferocious protective presence from thwarting their attempts-”

“Damien. First, please try to keep your volume down. I know this is- stressful for you, but the hut is small and the yelling is- not helpful. Second- it’s really flattering that you think they’d pay that much attention to me but I really think you’re overreacting.” She takes a moment to breathe, then sighs quite deeply. “Look, if you’re so worried about it, you can stay here for the night.” She smiles gently, reaching a hand to cup his cheek. “I’m sure you already had a long day before coming over here. Come to bed with me? If it’ll make you feel better, if it’ll make you feel like I’m safer, you know that I love sleeping with your arms around me-”

“I cannot lie idle and sleeping while such a beast rests but one room over, Rilla! I cannot sleep at all while it remains a threat-”

Rilla sighs and drops her hand. “Fine, Damien, fine. If you don’t want to rest with me, then you don’t have to, but I am going to bed and you are not touching my patient. Understand me?” She glares, and the force of her ire could knock Damien to the floor. His mouth goes dry, his words freezing. “If you undo any of my hard work I will not forgive you for that. Do you understand me? I will not forgive you,” she says in a low voice, and Damien swallows. “I don’t care if you wanna sit and guard the door, that’s annoying but it won’t hurt anything, but don’t you dare interrupt his rest.” She pauses. “Or mine, for that matter. Now if you’ll excuse me, Sir Damien?”

She gives him a tight, angry sort of smile, then excuses herself towards her bedroom, her shoulders already sagging again with the weight of her exhaustion, and Damien’s heart aches for her, aches for her to be safe and rested and in his arms-

But he must do his duty, first. He must protect her.

Damien paces outside the door to the room the monster currently occupies, his mind roiling and racing and terrified, and he whispers low for guidance. Rilla’s hut is not particularly large, and he has learned his lesson many times that if he prays as he naturally wishes to, he will keep his beloved from sleep rather effectively, and he does not wish to anger her any further just now. So: whispers. Saint Damien will hear him just as well, anyway. It is only for the throbbing in his own heart that his volume yearns to rise.

A monster. A monster, and his beloved Rilla so determined to see it healthy again. One of a kind- and certainly that is even more of a danger than if this were some ordinary ogre, is it not? What tricks might this beast possess? He could have any magic, and skill, any trick up his sleeve-

“What if it is is not sleeping?” He whispers, eyes sharp on the door as he paces, compulsively drawing his bow, the curve of it feeling like safety in his hand. “What if it is already scheming, already creeping towards my Rilla’s room?” His volume is rising, he can barely control it, he tries, but the words are a deluge he caught up in, helpless, helpless. “What if it is already crawling close to her bedside while she breathes light and lovely into her pillow and then it smiles a demon’s smile in the dark and it laughs at her precious kindness and then at last it raises a savage claw-”

Damien chokes a breath, pressing a hand hard over his heart and another over his mouth. No. No, he is between the beast and his beloved. He would have seen- he would know. That- that is merely his fear taking him by the throat. He must stand tranquil against it.

“Saint Damien- oh Saint Damien please,” he murmurs low, wringing his hands and trying, oh trying to slow his breathing. “Please your tranquility my Saint, I must be tranquil if I am to keep her safe, as she deserves to be-”

Rilla forbade him from harming her “patient.” Forbade him from disturbing its rest, as absurd as that is (what foul dreams fill a monster’s mind in repose? What passes for peace in such a violent, chaotic creature?). But-

She did not forbid him from entering the room. Did she?

He considers that. He looks to Rilla’s bedroom door, closed tight against him.

No- not closed tight. If he abandons his charge to protect her and goes to lay by her side, he is certain that she will gather him up in her arms and her bed and soon he will be blessed to hold her soft and lightly snoring in his arms. She is angry with him, in some misguided way, but she did not lock the door. She would not lock him out.

She did not lock him out of the room where the monster coils, either, though.

He ponders, for a few moments longer, before the thought springs unbidden again- the monster, slipping off of Rilla’s examination cot, slithering across the floor, up the walls, over the ceiling-

What powers it may have, Damien does not know. Camouflage? The ability to creep, silent? He does know of the viciously sharp claws this creature possesses, the jagged teeth that showed in his slackly open mouth-

What if it is attempting to escape?

Out the window, yes, and then- anywhere. It could slither off to find cohorts, other beasts with which to return, to raze Rilla’s cozy, humble home to the ground. It could slink around the side of the hut, could find another window- Rilla’s window, could insinuate itself back inside and-

Another deep, shaking breath.

No. Even if the creature is silent, Damien will hear the pane of glass shatter, if the creature escapes.

He cannot simply-

Damien cannot-

Every moment it is unoccupied, his mind will spin. It will tumble down into the darkness of catastrophe, will show him newer and darker possibilities, and so long as he does not know, not for certain, what the monster is doing in there, Damien will be trapped by these feelings, these foul potentialities.

He must enter. He must have his eyes on this beast. It cannot possibly harm Rilla nor anyone else, if he has it safely under his scrutiny.

And Rilla did not forbid him from entering.

He has one hand on the knob of the door, one on his bow, and he creaks the wood open. His entire frame tenses for the strike, whether that strike be his own or the leaping of the monster, but no such strike occurs. It is dim, in the room. Dim, and still, and quiet.

It is mostly quiet, anyway. After a pause, the door ajar but not yet passed through, Damien recognizes the slow, soft noise of breath, coming from inside. He frowns, but he supposes that it is better, is it not, to know that the beast is still where he can keep an eye upon it. If he had opened this door and it was still as death, and there were no noises of life whatsoever- certainly that would have been a more frightening outcome.

Damien takes a step, and then another, and he leaves his hand on the knob as he suspiciously enters this shadowed place.

Still, no attack comes. The light pouring in through the doorframe illuminates enough that Damien can see the shape on the cot, a long figure curled slightly on its side, covers shifting slowly above its chest.

The monster breathes.

It is repellent. This creature, this vile thing soft-sleeping here in a room meant for human healing, for care, for the comfort of his lovely Rilla’s talents and compassion, it is abhorrent. And Damien knows that Rilla is compassionate, oh certainly she is, but this- this? Certainly, certainly, love, there must be some limits, mustn’t there?

The monster breathes and sleeps and does not move, and Damien is even more nervous, even more furious than he was before.

He paces, but the sound of his shoes clicking on the floor sets his teeth on edge. What- what if his noise wakes the creature? If it attacks him, certainly it would be justifiable, to retaliate. Of course it would. But-

Rilla warned him not to disturb the creature’s rest.

So, until she wakes again, at least, he will not.

There is a stool, close beside the bed. When he had entered earlier, Rilla had been perched just in front of it with her hands on the beast, as if she had been seated at some point, and slowly edged forward in tension and focus until she had hovered entirely away.

If Damien wishes to sit, he is going to need to come close enough to the beast to take the seat for himself.

He takes each step across the floor as if it could be rigged with traps, as if more monsters might leap from any given shadow. This… proves unjustified. Yet again Damien is unmolested by monstrous intent, and when he comes close by the bed he stares down at the creature.

Evil. Evil made manifest. Long limbs hidden beneath layers of cloth, sharp claws obscured, the angularity of that body made slack and strange by sleep, that reptilian face-

The monster’s mouth hangs just slightly open, the tips of sharp fangs barely, barely visible behind his thin lips, the ridged line of his brow softened, the low light gleaming on his colorful, mottled scales-

Damien’s jaw tightens. He picks up the stool and moves it away from the bed, moves it to the corner nearest the door, and he perches up upon it facing the bed with a hand on his bow and a scowl set on his face.

The monster does not wake for this, either.

He scowls for quite some time, until his cheeks are a little bit sore. Then he settles into a glare, his determination too strong to be unsettled by boredom. This is only a trick, regardless of the way this creature looks- fragile, curled there on Rilla’s examination cot. More of his scales are bandaged than not, from what Damien saw earlier, when Rilla was working upon him, and the frill at his neck is nearly in tatters, one of his elegantly curved horns cracked (Damien wonders if that is the sort of thing that heals- not that this creature will have time to find that out, of course), and even despite the undeserved serenity of sleep this monster looks exhausted.

A trick. All of it a trick, of course.

… but a very, very convincing one.

[->]