#and i think i maybe killed it before it could get going with how i tagged it and the bigass disclaimer at the beginning

[vaspider]

Tonight, the night before Election Day 2024 in the US, I am thinking about my stepkid.

I am thinking about the phone call they made to us earlier this year, the one where they told us they'd gone to the hospital thinking they had appendicitis and found out, instead, that a zygote - a tiny splodge of cells - had taken up residence not in their uterus but in a fallopian tube. The one where our kid said they were waiting for their partner to arrive, hoped that said partner would get there before the docs took our kid back to terminate that pregnancy, & assured us that they'd be okay.

After all, our kid lives in a state with choice measures embedded in state law. That pea-sized blot of tissue doesn't have more right to their health than they do. Nobody is standing between them and their doctors. They made a decision, and that was that.

In this tiny tragedy, the kind that plays out dozens of times a day at minimum across the country, we only had to worry about the small risk of surgery complications. We didn't have to worry about Ken Paxton threatening to charge their doctors with felonies. We didn't have to think, "What if the hospital's legal team doesn't think an ectopic pregnancy - which is never ever viable and must be terminated before it kills our kid - is really that big of a deal?" We didn't have to worry that they live in a state where ob-gyns are fleeing, leaving few experts behind, as has happened in Idaho.

We didn't have to watch our kid vomit up black blood before dying the day after their baby shower the way Neveah's mom did. We didn't have to pray in a waiting room (while doctors took our kid apart until their heart stopped because the doctors waited too long out of fear of anti-choice laws) until a doctor came to tell us we'd have to bury them the way that Amber's mom did. We aren't having to pick up our lives after fully treatable miscarriage-related sepsis took them from us the way that Josseli's husband and daughter must.

I could go on for far, far too long.

Listen. If you are a single-issue non-voter and have already decided that "both parties are the same" or whatever other thing you've told yourself so you can sleep at night, smug and secure, then I can't reach you and I can't help you. But if you genuinely think that your votes don't matter, if you're just suffering from a bout of overwhelm or apathy, if you're too young to remember the 2000 election and can't see that Dobbs is a direct result of that election and every one that's followed, please, I am fucking begging you.

I didn't really talk about this when it happened. I mentioned something briefly, maybe. The posts I've started writing about it are still in my drafts. It was too fresh, too frightening. It's not any less frightening now, honestly - because if this week doesn't end with President Kamala Harris, we're headed for a national abortion ban, at the minimum - but it's not about how fucking frightened I was or how sad and bewildered I was to realize that my kid was going through this crisis in a nation more hostile to them than when I needed a D&C for an abortion at 21, in 1998.

It's about stopping this chapter of this fucking bullshit and at least finding some new fucking bullshit.

Vote, dammit.

Do the other work on Wednesday. Tomorrow, the work is to vote.

[zepskies]

More of This

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs.  

AN: Here it is - bonus drabble time!~ This can be a stand-alone, but it’s really a snippet missing from Lost Time in the Every Second Counts-verse. Using the GIF above from 2x02 specifically for the hair flip. It did things to me... 😮‍💨 (But there are NO spoilers for 2x02).

Shoutout to @impala-dreamer who helped inspire this in our @jacklesversebingo chat. ��

Word Count: 900

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smut and feels, small tinge of angst. Russell's hair. Tattoos. Everything really.

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“Welcome home,” you whispered into his mouth.

All Russell could offer was a breathless sound, caught somewhere between an agreement and a groan of pleasure. He was being treated to a feast of the eyes as you rode him slow in the comfort and safety of your bed.

Your lips didn’t quite manage to connect with his in a kiss, with heavy breaths in between and a deliberate roll of your hips against his. He’d been letting you control the pace of him sheathing home with your every drawn-out thrust.

He was enjoying the show—your hair wild, your pupils blown wide with arousal, being able to palm at your breasts and tease your hardened nipples, kissing your flushed, dewy skin.

But you could feel him getting desperate. His hands moved down your body over soft curves, just for his fingers to squeeze into the flesh of your hips and ass, trying to ground himself in you. His eyes shut and his head fell back into the pillow. You bent down and fastened your lips to his neck, kissing and sucking hard there. He slid a hand up your back and buried it in your hair.

“Takin’ me so well, baby,” he said, his voice deep and rough, and a bit strained. “But you’re torturing me a little bit.”

You giggled breathlessly into his neck. Your tone was playful and coy when you replied, “What do you mean?”

You made a show of raising your hips, letting his hard length slide out of your wet heat all the way to the tip, before you slowly sunk back down. You shifted your hips along the way, until the thick head of him was nestled deep and pressing against your cervix. You both panted for breath. Even your arms were shaking while holding yourself above him.

“Yeah, think you’re trying to kill me,” Russell uttered. “Suppose there’s worse ways to go…”

“Fuck,” you muttered, releasing into a moan. The languid drag of his cock against your inner walls was good, but nowhere near enough at this point.

Maybe you were done teasing him, as well as yourself. Maybe you were done punishing him for taking one contract job after another, taking so long to get back, and making you worry about him and his safety. Your lips made their way back to his cheek, laying a sweeter kiss there.

“Okay.” You smiled against his skin. “How about you fuck me like it’s been three months, not three weeks. I wanna feel you come hot inside me—”

Russell wouldn’t even wait for you to finish the dirty whispers already setting his blood alight. His tattooed arm wrapped around your back and pulled you flush against his chest. He manhandled you seemingly without much effort, twisting you onto your back and having you laid out underneath him.

You let out a huff as your back met the mattress and made the springs squeak. Your head barely made it onto the pillow where his head had been, but your boyfriend wasted little time in grabbing your thighs and angling you just right, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. (You didn’t need any encouragement.) He took you hard and deep, making sure he hit that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

You gasped and clung to his broad shoulders.

“Right there, sweetheart?” he said near your ear. His voice was rich and gravel. A shiver ran through your body, goaded along with every other sensation he was drawing out of you. You couldn’t even speak. Just a nod and a broken, desperate whimper. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip.

You were holding on for the rest of the ride. If nothing else, Russell had precision, and he was a master of his craft. And that was whatever he set his mind to.

His hand slipped between your bodies for a moment, his fingers searching, and finding, then massaging your swollen clit between thrusts. You cried out in his ear and damn near choked on your own breath, your nails biting into his shoulders. It didn’t take much longer for that tightening coil in your core to finally snap, your inner walls throbbing around his cock.

A curse and a ragged groan fell from his lips as his body locked up on him as well. You felt his body stiffen and the warmth of his release deep inside you. The sensation elicited another shiver down your spine.

You were on birth control, but it still made you feel a bit wild sometimes, whenever he came inside you. You relaxed underneath him with your knees bent, your thighs a soft cradle for his hips.

Russell kept himself upright with his forearms resting on either side of your head. His long hair had slid forward, the brown silky strands tickling your forehead as his panting breaths mingled with yours.

You attempted to brush some of his hair back behind his ears, but it fell forward again, tickling your nose. Russell allowed it on purpose, making you laugh lightly. He grinned in response, but he lowered further to capture your lips in a kiss. He didn’t mind this one being nice and slow.

Even when he parted from you, you still craved more of him. More of this.

You slipped a hand over his bearded cheek, an affectionate caress. A softer smile drew across his lips. He rested his forehead against yours, and he chuckled a little.

“It’s damn good to be home.”

AN: 🫣 Lol hope you enjoyed this one! ❤️‍🔥

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[hanniebaeee]

The Ex

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of injury

Genre: exes to lovers, fluffffff

Summary: Your ex, Hyunjin, calls you at midnight, injured and freaked out. The fact that you're still in love with him may be a problem. Or not.

Your break-up with Hyunjin had been a literal storm. Tear-soaked, heartbreaking, and both of you still so much in love that it hurt beyond words could explain. You didn't understand how it came to it, actually. Watching him walk away was the hardest thing you've ever had to do, and that's an image you can't get off your mind. No matter how hard you try.

You tried to delete his number, unfollow him literally everywhere, and move on with your life. But it was easier said than done. That's why when his number flashes on your phone screen, you freeze.

You almost ignore it. Almost. But something inside you won't let you, and here you are, answering his call.

“Hyunjin?”

There’s a weird silence on his side. You haven't heard his voice since you broke up a couple of months ago, and the anticipation is killing you.

You're starting to think that he made a mistake, when you hear his breath on the other line - heavy and desperate.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin’s voice is shaky, and you sit upright, your heart in your throat.

“Hyunjin? What’s going on?” you ask, ready to run. “Are you ok?”

“I’m at - at the hospital,” he chokes out.

“What? What happened?!” you ask, fear starting to grip you.

“I fell…I was going down some stairs, trying to carry all my art supplies - don’t ask, it’s a long story. But I tripped and fell down the stairs, and my foot, it’s swelling up. It hurts like hell, Y/N, I’m so scared-” His voice breaks, and he takes in a shaky breath. “Someone dropped me here, and I don’t - I don’t even know anyone in this city.”

Your heart sinks, imagining him sitting there, hurt and scared and…alone. You know you should feel nothing for him. Maybe a bit of concern, but nothing else. He's your ex.

But no, that isn’t how your heart works. This is Hyunjin, it says, the guy you spent way too many sleepless nights with, the guy you had to claw out of your chest when you broke up.

“Hello? Y/N?” Hyunjin sounds like a lost little child, his little sobs gripping at your poor heart.

“Hyunjin, take a breath. Oh my God. Stop crying, baby, I’m on my way, okay? I-” You freeze, closing your eyes, cursing yourself for the slip.

You called him baby?!

A beat of silence. You can hear Hyunjin sniffling on the other side, and you panic.

“Oh, uh, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean-” you stutter, before quickly saying, “I'll see you soon.”

You hang up before he can reply, embarrassment coursing through you. You sit on your couch cringing and feeling terrible. Taking a deep breath, you reach for your phone again. You need backup and there’s only one person who can handle Hyunjin like you do.

So, with shaking fingers, you dial Changbin's number, as you make your way to your bedroom. Changbin picks up after about two rings, and says, “Hey babe, you good?”

“I'm not sure, Bin. Hyunjin called me…he’s hurt. He’s at the hospital, and he’s-” You fall silent as you hear Changbin sigh.

You can tell he’s running his hand through his hair the way he always does when he’s dealing with one of your ‘Hyunjin’ emergencies.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll go,” he says, but you both know you’re not going to let him go alone.

“Yeah, no. I’m coming with you. I can’t just sit here while he’s hurt,” you argue, already pulling on a jumper over your t-shirt.

“You’re crazy for doing this, you know that?” Changbin says.

“Yeah, what's new?” you mutter, pulling your jeans on, and then your shoes.

“Alright,” Changbin sighs, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s go pick up our delicate flower.”

He's over at yours in record time, and gives you an unimpressed look.

“Binnie, not now!” You say as you both get into his car.

The drive is only about an hour, but it feels like hours. You try not to think of the last time you made this journey. It ended up with you coming back alone and so broken. Now, you sit in silence, Changbin can feel you unraveling.

He shoots you a look and asks, “You okay?”

You let out a hollow laugh.

“I mean, my ex, with whom I’m still kind of in love with, is in the hospital. So, I guess I’m as fine as I can be.”

“Kind of? Who are you kidding?” Changbin raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Ok, shut up.” you mumble, cheeks burning and you look away, hoping he'll leave it alone.

But he just laughs, putting his hand on yours.

“I get it, ok? You’re a good person for doing this, Y/N.” he says softly, and you feel a tear prickle at the corner of your eye.

You blink it back, trying your best to hold it together.

“He must have moved on, right?” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your jacket.

“If you're talking about Hwang Hyunjin, I can assure you that he’s still head over heels for you, even if he won’t admit it.”

You manage a small smile at that and say, “You think?”

“No, I know,” Changbin says, smiling, “He wouldn’t have called you if he wasn't. You’re still the only person who can get through to him.”

“I’m so lucky to have you, you know that?” You say, squeezing his hand.

“You are,” he agrees, flashing you a cocky smirk. “And you’re welcome. Now, let’s go remind Hyunjin that he’s not a fragile old man on his deathbed.”

By the time you finally get to the hospital, your nerves are buzzing. You walk in with Changbin by your side, his hand a steady presence at your back.

And there he is, slumped in a chair with his injured foot propped up, wearing a miserable, pouty expression, and it's so adorable, it crushes you almost immediately.

When his eyes land on you, they light up and he's reaching out to you.

“You came!” His voice cracks, and you hate that it makes your heart flutter.

He takes your hand in his and presses his cheek to it, and holds onto you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “You actually came?”

You’re still mad at yourself for caring this much, but you don't regret anything. Not after seeing him like this.

“Yeah, you idiot. Of course I did.” you say gently, sitting near him.

He looks away, probably trying to hide his tears, and mutters, “I thought you’d never want to see me again.”

You’re about to reply when Changbin clears his throat.

“Hello to you too Hyunjin. Oh, how am I? I'm good!” He says dryly, making you laugh.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at Changbin, rolling them even though he’s still clutching your hand.

“I knew she'll call you, I just-” Hyunjin tries, but Changbin snorts in response.

“You're sneaky little-” Changbin begins but a nurse comes over and says that Hyunjin’s doctor has taken a look at his x-rays and wants to talk to him.

Changbin helps him into the wheelchair and you all move into the examination room where the doctor tells him that it's a sprain, and he'll have to rest his foot for sometime.

Once outside, Changbin tells him, “No more carrying your entire art studio down the stairs.”

“Hey, I didn't have anyone to help me!” Hyunjin says.

“I wonder who's fault it is!” Changbin shoots back, and Hyunjin pouts, crossing his arms against his chest, as you bite back a laugh.

You all sit at the waiting area, wondering what to do next. As you look at Hyunjin, all the messy feelings you’ve buried rush to the surface. You know it’s stupid, probably really reckless, but you can't help it. You love this man so damn much.

Hyunjin sniffles, studying the bandage on his foot before looking at you.

“Are you ok?” You ask, seeing how tired he looked.

“When I fell, I was so scared…I thought I would die…like my entire life flashed before my eyes. It was horrible,” he says. “And, all I felt was regret. I… I was an idiot. I should have fought for us.”

His words are definitely pulling at your heartstrings. Your eyes meet Changbin's, sitting on Hyunjin’s other side. He raises his eyebrows, knowing exactly where this is going. Before you can say anything, Hyunjin is leaning into you, his fingers intertwined with yours.

“I won’t survive a single day without you,” he whispers. “I mean, look at me. You left me, and here I am - falling down stairs, breaking bones-”

“It's a sprain, Hyunjin,” You remind him with a smile.

“But it feels broken. I feel broken…without you…”

“Jinnie-” You start, not knowing what exactly to say to him.

Your heart twists painfully. You don't know if this is a good idea, but that doesn't stop you from wanting him.

“Before you two start making out in front of me, I’m gonna go get some coffee,” Changbin's voice cuts in.

Hyunjin grins, cupping your cheek with his hand. He ignores Changbin completely, and says, “If you'll have me, I promise to never let you go. I promise I'll be good.”

And before you can stop yourself, you lean in, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. He's pulling you closer, kissing you deeper, but you put a hand to his chest, gently pushing him back. You are still at the hospital, and people are starting to notice.

When Changbin returns, you both carefully put Hyunjin in the backseat. He grabs hold of your hand as you're about to shut the door, and wants you to sit with him.

He clings onto you the entire drive home, sneaking kisses - so many kisses. And also persuades you to spend the night at Changbin's, so you end up cuddling him to sleep.

And you sleep peacefully for the first time since your break up.

[solelifauna]

When you say the love interest might be worse, does that mean "being mean to reader" wise or "being possessive over the reader" wise?

ERMMM...both I'd say. The love interest for the Werewolf AU is Jon Kent. He's about the same age as the reader and older than Damian by one year (From the time-skip space mission that he went on that aged him). But bro, this boy is fucking nuts.

Yes, Kryptonians aren't werewolves in this universe, but Lois Lane is. And a strong one at that, coming from a military family and all that jazz. So Jon Lane Kent is literally one of the strongest beings on earth, being half-kryptonian and half-werewolf.

Now i know what youre thinking.

But wouldn't Jon also be outcasted from werewolf society/wouldn't the bats not like him cause he's a half-blood?

WRONG!!! Yes, Jon is a half-blooded werewolf, but the other half is Kryptonian, one of the strongest species in the universe. If anything, his breeding makes him a very respected figure and the Bats definitely find him worthy. He and Damian are still the best of friends.

Now Jon's relationship with (Y/n). Yikes. Funnily enough, it was (Y/n) who started crushing on Jon first. She'd see him around the manor often, and she'd watch as he interacted with the Waynes or messed around with Damian. From what she could see, he seemed nicer than her family, so maybe she could be friends with him right? Plus, he's super cute!

And of course, this doesn't end well. I mean, this is a dark au. First off, Superman doesn't quite see humans as equals. Werewolves, they have his respect, and all the other races too. Yes, Clark Kent's adoptive parents were humans, and yes he loved them, but they were weak. Fragile even. And he made sure to instill that teaching in Jon as well.

Did Jon love his grandparents? Absolutely, but that meant that Ma and Pa stayed confined to Smallville and their house. They were too weak, they needed to be protected.

Lois also helped push Werewolf culture onto him as well. Weaker werewolves and humans were subservient to the stronger, and if necessary, could be killed and eaten. Jon didn't quite get the eating part, finding it quite gross actually, until he had his first taste of flesh. And, yikes, the boy was hooked.

In his mind, humans were either things to be taken care of (like pets) or food.

What's even more scary is that he's sweet around his family and friends, but those he deems as lesser? Well, let's just hope you don't catch him in a bad mood or piss him off. Which is why when weak, pitiful, abandoned (Y/n) Wayne comes up to him, he's insulted.

Why on earth did you even think you were worthy of talking to him?

Yes, he's seen you watching them, lurking around the manor, keeping your distance. It was quite annoying actually, he could practically hear your heart leaping out of its chest every time you saw him. He knew your intentions, trying to make friends with him.

He just looked down at you, eyes pooling with something nobody could explain, whilst you smiled at him and made small talk. Or tried to make small talk.

"Damian, should I snap her neck? Or is your family still insistent on the old laws?" Jon says.

You freeze, eyes widening in fear. Ah...you've made a severe lapse in judgment.

So much for a new friend.

"You know what? How 'bout I just go?" You quip nervously before trying to run off.

It's too bad Damian grabs you by the back of your shirt, basically choking you in the process. You let out a strangled noise as your body loses balance and lurches backward. When Damian lets go, your having a mad coughing fit, trying to get as much air as you could into your lungs.

Damian only makes an annoyed sound while Jon watches, a sick type of glee in his eyes. "When the time comes friend, you may feast with us. Now (Y/n), apologize to Jon."

You do not even have to think twice about that. "I'm sorry-I'm sorry! I shouldn't have approached you, I'm sorry." And at this point, you're crying. (reader is 14 when this happens)

And god doesn't that make Jon smile. He wouldn't deny, that you were pretty (I mean, you do have half of Bruce Wayne's DNA). But as much as he'd consider coveting you, you weren't worth that honor, no, he'd much rather taste your sweet, sweet flesh. (He could practically smell it wafting off you).

But alas, he'd have to wait.

But of course, in normal yandere fashion, he goes from wanting to eat you to wanting to eat you. The obsession starts to change around (Y/n)'s 16th birthday party that the Waynes throw. It's customary that all children do some public ball or whatever, so this was yours. Jon and his family are there obviously, and you're there as well, looking as miserable and tired as usual (and still somehow being the most beautiful thing in the building). However, he sees you light up in a way he's never seen you do before when your (what he's guessing) friends show up. They're human. They're weak, like you.

Seeing you interact with them, hearing you talk normally(super-hearing, duh) without fear, watching the way you laughed...He realizes he wants. And he wants bad.

Looks like you've got a new problem now.

Anyways, this is all I got!! I don't want to spoil the story more than I already have, but yeah, say hello to "absolutely bonkers Jon Kent". Hope you enjoyed!!!

[the-fallen-blue]

Pretty sure she's an addict, actually.

Looking at the way she reacts to absorbing power, both in this show and in Wandavision, it obviously feels really good. I think she's being honest when she says she doesn't control it, but it's not because she physically can't, it's because she's so euphoric in the moment that she can't think clearly enough to make the decision.

And the greatest possible risk for addiction is to be in a situation where nothing else feels good. Where the world is unstable, untrustworthy, unreliable, where you are unable to plan or hope for a future or believe there is a source of good for you other than your drug of choice.

And Agatha, the covenless witch, has been in that situation her entire life. The only good things she's ever had are Rio and Nicky. Rio, despite being a shockingly caring and respectful partner, is also literally Death and cannot provide for Agatha any sense of protection, community, or future; Nicky is doomed before he's even out of the womb, and any joy she has with him is tempered by the fear of his loss, the knowledge of the ticking clock of Rio's return. And with or without the two of them, her deep-seated belief is that she is unable to be part of her community, that she has only the single binary choice of being hunted and alone and despised, or to attempt to belong and be instantly killed. Which is a stressful, painful way to stagger through the centuries.

I do think she told herself a lot of things about why she was killing other witches, of course. One thing is what she told Nicky; that it's to keep him safe. It "distracts" Rio (deep down she knows perfectly well that Death doesn't work that way, but he's still alive so far). It gives her enough power to protect him (she tells him herself that no amount of power can protect him or heal him or even guide her in his care, because her power doesn't work that way, but it's not like she can go get a coven to fill in the gaps, she has to try to make do with what she is). It protects her (if she has enough power, if she kills witches before they can kill her, she won't be hurt again). And I think one of the things that she told herself after Nicky died is that if she got enough power, enough juice, she could bring Nicky back; in Wandavision in particular she is very interested in the power of the Scarlet Witch to create life wholesale, to defy the balance Rio maintains.

But Agatha is a liar. Maybe all of those reasons have their influence, but at the end of the day, she drains witches because it's the only thing that feels good enough to make her forget for a second that she's lost every person she's ever loved and everything that ever made her feel safe. Because she's desperately trying to fill a hole in herself with power because she doesn't understand how to see or ask for or believe in anything else. Because the way her power works means that if she is feeling that feeling, she is being attacked, having it proven to her that of course there is nothing else for her, no welcome and no care and no joy outside of this moment of killing.

Which is why the first time she's able to stop herself is the first time she has seen and felt enough of a support structure outside of that addiction to actually start believing there's an alternative.

(Though, to be clear, none of that makes her not an awful person. If sorting people into moral categories is important to you that is absolutely the one where she gets put, and she is barely at the beginning of a potential redemption when the season wraps. She's just not there for shits and giggles, she's there for ~trauma~.)

I'm still thinking about the advice lilia gave to agatha right before her death because it is so fucking significant. like alice tried to protect agatha and agatha accidentally killed her. and STILL lilia decided to try again, in her own way. while existing throughout all of time at once, lilia believes that helping agatha is worth a try.

each time agatha tries to act like she doesn't care about sisterhood and pushes her coven away, they STILL show up for her the way the salemites should have but never did. the road is actively giving agatha what she's been missing since childhood: being shown care and compassion.

[ennn]

Re: “Rio's goal is to kill Agatha so she can be with her forever”

My brother in Christ, if Rio's ultimate goal this series was to kill Agatha we wouldn't have gotten past the first episode.

Okay okay, I get how it can be confusing because Rio literally says she wants to see Agatha dead in episode one and tells Agatha she'll let the Salem Seven (who do want Agatha dead) know where she is.

But it is noteworthy that Rio tells Agatha what she is going to do and when the Salem Seven are expected to arrive. Rio is usually surprisingly fair in how she deals with Agatha.

Rio has always met Agatha at her power level

In episode one, even assuming Agatha was protected by Wanda's spell and Rio couldn't harm her there, once it was broken Rio went "full analog" – to quote Hahn – with her knife, the only magic she used being the wind blasts.

Guys, that's not a serious murder attempt, that's foreplay to them. Violent, bloody, sexy foreplay.

Also Rio has healing powers. That's a thing they have very clearly shown.

To be clear, my read is that Rio can't actually kill anyone before their time ("You can't kill me, it's not allowed") just hurt them really really badly until they maybe choose to die ("I can make you wish you were dead"). Which you could argue equals killing I suppose, just slower.

But this is Agatha Harkness: all she really needs to survive is a bit of time to scheme and manipulate and do her usual girlbossing, gatekeeping, and gaslighting – and I think Rio also knows this. Agatha keeps surprising her, for better and worse.

Yes, Rio gets BIG MAD in episode 8 because Agatha says possibly The Worst Thing to her but the first part of their confrontation is technically physical torture, not murder attempts.

I know it sounds like I'm splitting hairs here but my point is that having Agatha dead isn't Rio's ultimate #1 goal. It's not so clean and easy.

There's something to be said about how the wounds Rio inflicts speak to how Rio sees herself hurt by Agatha emotionally in the relationship i.e. death by a thousand cuts, the severing of her Achilles tendon.

There’s probably something also be said about the relationship a being like Rio has with physical pain. Trees feel pain. Everything living does. Rio mocks Agatha for dulling herself to it using dark magic.

But I digress.

Anyway, note: it's only after Agatha gets magic back that Rio starts throwing magic blasts – and even then she seems to be holding back.

These two are possibly the worst two witches to fight each other directly like this because Agatha can't absorb Rio's magic or she'll die. She has to actively block or avoid all hits. And I bet this isn't something Agatha is used to dealing with considering she had no issues taking Wanda's magic.

And Rio is aware of this because she’s just lobbing quick little green blasts Agatha's way. It's not a torrent of magic like what Agatha is gleefully unleashing.

It's also the Watsonian (in-universe) explanation as to why this fight is so short. Because you literally can't straight up fight Death. Rio is a hard counter to Agatha's special siphoning ability just like how Agatha was a hard counter to Wanda's magic (insert your scissors-paper-stone visual of choice).

Rio doesn't want Agatha dead, she wants Agatha to want her

It's clear that Rio is grieving when Agatha dies. This isn't the outcome she wants. They're also both crying during the kiss it's great.

Rio wants what Agatha specifically tries to deny in the deal Agatha proposes: she wants to keep pursuing Agatha, to keep seeing her, provoking her, to be shocked and surprised by her. To keep loving her but also, to keep hurting her.

Because Agatha also hurts her right back. And Agatha knows she has Rio constantly on the emotional backfoot, that Rio – despite centuries of hatred thrown her way – still humours her more often than not and what levers to push.

I don't think this can happen with Agatha dead and gone.

To be fair, we don't know what the rules are in this world's afterlife. The only insight we get into Rio's job is her scene with Alice and that still leaves a lot of things unanswered: Does Rio just escort souls to a destination or does she have more control beyond that, like a domain? Can souls refuse to go with Rio? How do ghosts happen?

I had previously assumed Rio needed to allow it but Schaeffer says that her vision in that moment has Agatha's using an evolved form of the power to take Rio's magic by touch.

And with that, it's telling that it's Agatha who ultimately ensures that she dies (with the "calculated risk" of becoming a ghost), siphoning Rio's death magic energy.

Agatha embraces death, embraces Rio, but she also doesn't – Rio's clever witch got away again.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Would love for you to work your magic on this prompt 💜 @shhhsecretsideblog

Heavily pregnant and overdue, she’s been waiting in line for over an hour to meet her favorite author. Unfortunately, the baby’s decided to arrive now. If she could just make it a little longer, she could ask her all of her burning questions about her novel and tell her how appreciative she is of her work!

(birth denial, inconvenient birth, public labor)

What an amazing prompt, your ideas never fail to inspire me!! Thanks my lovely for the ask, really hope you like it 💜

[fpreg, 2500 words]

Dedicated Book Worm

The contractions had started on the bus ride into town, but she ignored them. A few twinges was nothing to worry about, certainly not today; today Ricki was going to the release and book signing of her favourite author’s latest novel. Her stomach was bubbling with excitement and nerves. She'd been a fan of this writer for years now but had never had the opportunity to get anything signed before, let alone meet the writer in person.

Unsurprisingly it was a very popular event at the bookstore and the queue was already pouring out the doors and lacing down the street. She was glad to have gotten here so early, with only a few dozen people in front of her. The downside of arriving so early meant having to wait in line, which wasn’t so great when you were over 40 weeks pregnant.

Ricki rubbed the taut skin of her stretched belly and exhaled a long quiet breath. The cramping had started to ramp up on the bus journey and she tried to dismiss them, but after standing outside for the best part of an hour she was slowly realising these pains were the real deal - consistent and definitely getting stronger. She debated texting her partner, to tell her she was having contractions, but then she’d have to leave this event. Looking longingly through the glass window of the bookstore and seeing the rows of chairs all set up for the author’s reading of the new book, Ricki nodded to herself, determined. She would stay. She had time to get her copy of the new book, listen to her favourite author, and get it signed before she’d have to tell her girlfriend about the baby’s expected arrival. Labour took ages, and this baby certainly hadn’t been in any hurry to be born.

The line was slow-moving when they started letting people in, everyone inching forward every few minutes. As her large belly regularly tightened, Ricki found herself holding it and swaying slightly as she waited eagerly in the queue, thinking about what she might say when she met the famous writer. Her stomach flipped with nerves but then spasmed aggressively, resulting in a soft moan slipping out her mouth as she exhaled. The person in front gave her a worried look after clocking the large and low baby bump hanging off Ricki’s hips. “This little one is just as excited as I am to get a copy of the new book.” Ricki tried to joke and reassure the concerned looks she was getting. But her mind couldn’t help noticing just how frequently her belly was cramping.

All this standing around had put a serious strain on her back, but there was something else, something new; a weighted pressure sitting deeper in her pelvis. Maybe the baby had finally got in the right position. It would be about bloody time, but they wouldn’t be ruining this afternoon for her, Ricki thought to herself.

Eventually she got to the front of the line and presented her ticket for the event. Ricki would be glad to sit down, her back was killing her and the constant cramping of her heavy belly was draining all her energy. “Wow, you look ready to pop.” The bookshop employee said, scanning her ticket and letting the heavily pregnant woman into the cordoned off area. Ricki managed a half-hearted smile, trying to keep her face from showing any signs of discomfort.

Despite the need to sit down, the weight and pressure between her hips was squashing her bladder and Ricki made a beeline to the toilets before the reading started. Thankfully the single unisex toilet was vacant and she disappeared inside. She used the privacy to let out the pained groans she’d been holding in for the last hour, as her belly contracted yet again. “Mnnnnghhhh…. Oh why now…” Ricki moaned, palming the walls of the bathroom and shifting her hips around in large circles. “You can wait a little bit longer. You were quite comfy in there last week on your due date.”

When the contraction faded she used the facilities, noticing quite a bit more liquid leaking into her pad, and hoped that wasn’t the start of her waters breaking. Standing up from the toilet seat Ricki felt the weight quite literally drop back down in her pelvis, the head of the baby wedged harshly against her dilating cervix. “Ooof!—” she clasped her bump, taking a moment to get used to the heavy feeling and the pressure that it brought.

The hustle and bustle of the bookstore was getting louder, the sounds of excited people entering the event seeping through the bathroom door. “Come on bubs, let’s go hear all about the new book.” Ricki said to her bump before leaving the bathroom and going back into the store.

Unfortunately for Ricki the contractions were still coming and getting closer and closer, now almost impossible to stay standing. After waiting in another line to collect her copy of the latest book she had to grasp onto the counter and swallow down the grunt she so desperately wanted to make.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The girl behind the desk asked, panicked.

“Mmm-hmm.” Ricki gritted and nodded her head, pulling her lips into a forced smile. “Just a c-cramp.”

She needed to sit down, and fast. The labouring woman took the first empty chair she could find in the back row and sighed a heavy breath of relief. She would be okay. She just needed to rest, yes, that was it. Her excitement was heightening everything, that’s all. Holding her copy of the new book in one hand, she rubbed her swollen stomach with the other and prayed the pains would slow down enough to enjoy this event.

Typically there was a delay in the start time, the author had only just arrived and it would be a bit longer before the event could begin. Ricki was sweating by this point, squirming in her seat and trying to keep an even and subtle breathing rhythm. The pressure in her pelvis had suddenly built to astronomical heights and she found herself rocking and quietly humming on the chair. Her hands gripped the edges of the seat, knuckles turning white, as the waves got stronger and stronger. She tried not to clasp her bump so as not to attract unwanted attention, but god did it hurt. The contracting muscles contorting the shape of her pregnant belly was almost visible through her clothing.

She was wearing a pair of wide legged dungarees patterned with sunflowers, a thin black cotton t shirt underneath. Even through the denim like fabric Ricki could see as well as feel the way the whole sphere of her belly hardened, squishing into a solid and narrow torpedo shape over her thighs. “Ooohhhhhhh….” She used the book to fan her damp and sweaty face, no doubt looking flushed in the bookstore, which was already getting steadily warmer as more and more people filled in.

Eventually the host took to the stage and introduced the special guest and Ricki’s eyes widened with glee at seeing her long time favourite author in person, standing only a few metres away. Her belly seized again in that moment, bringing forth a wave of pressure deep between her hips, and she couldn’t stop the groan from escaping her lips. Thankfully her labouring sounds were swallowed by the loud round of applause. Without thought, and focussed entirely on the beloved person at the front of the crowd, Ricki’s legs widened automatically on her chair. Unconsciously finding any way to relieve the building pressure.

Then, the room was silent, the writer stood centre stage with an open copy of her latest book. Ricki was going to hear a new extract, read aloud by the glorious female writer herself, and she waited like everyone else with bated breath.

As the reading began the heavily pregnant woman tried to focus, tried to give this once in a lifetime fangirl moment her undivided attention, but the pressure was getting unbearable. Every few seconds Ricki’s mind was pulled back to the baby in her womb, the feeling of the hard skull sinking deeper into her birth canal, her baby determined to be born today. She panted, as quietly as she could. The thought of attracting unwanted attention right now was mortifying, if anyone discovered she was in labour— No, she was not going to let anyone see her struggle, or give any reason to stop this talk and pull focus from the rightful star.

She lasted about 15 minutes into the reading before it happened, something instinctual and primal tripped a warning siren in her mind. The pressure, it had built too much and now… oh god, now she needed to push. She really needed to push.

It was automatic, she had no control. Ricki’s body slumped slightly in her chair and gripping her book tightly with both hands her uterus contracted and squeezed and…pushed the baby further down. Oh fuck. Her legs were wide on the chair, encroaching into the space of her neighbours. But she couldn’t close them. It felt like she was sitting on the baby’s head. Trapped in another bout of pushing Ricki sucked in a lung full of air and bore down once more. Silently as she could.

The labouring mother lost all track of what the author was saying or reading. Occasionally she’d hear the audience laugh or “awww”, and she was missing everything. All that she could focus on was not giving birth right here in the bookstore. She could make it. She had to. Her girlfriend wasn’t here, and her book hadn’t been signed. She had to make it just a little bit longer.

With every ounce of determination she could muster, Ricky shifted herself upright and painfully pulled her legs together. God it felt like she was sitting on a bowling ball. A whimper slipped from her throat and her eyes screwed shut. The person beside her gave Ricki a concerned look. The labouring woman gritted her teeth and forced a friendly grin.

The reading eventually came to a conclusion, Ricki having succumbed to another half a dozen pushes in that time, but any progress was halted by her posture on the chair and the unforgiving fabric of her dungarees. The owners of the bookstore advised everyone to start making an orderly queue to get their books signed, gesturing to a table and lines of rope set up nearby. Ricki was so close, so close to meeting her idol. Unfortunately the baby was keen to join in.

As she stood the boulder in her pelvis pressed fiercely against the walls of her birth canal and Ricki had to grasp the chair in front of her and instinctively bear down. Oh fuck… she wasn’t going to make it. Her primal grunt wasn’t noticed through the sounds of chairs scratching the floor and numerous conversations erupting around the room. The baby was so low, dangerously low. Feeling like it was sitting just behind her lips, bulging obscenely into her wide-leg trousers.

The crowd around her moved as one, all the guests making their way to the line for autographs. She should have said something, should have excused herself, the baby was quite literally trying to come out right here in the bookstore. Instead, Ricki got caught in the sea of people and somehow ended up in line and surrounded by excited people waiting for autographs.

Just a little bit longer bubs… please. She pleaded with the swell of her belly cradled in her palms. Sweat was dripping down her neck beneath her long hair, her black t-shirt sodden with the exhaustion of her labour. How Ricki managed to stay standing she did not know. Oddly the pain in her hips was easier to manage when upright but gravity was making the pressure unbearable. Whenever a contraction hit she was forced to give in, to bear down with the squeezing muscles, knees bendy subtly and her mouth clamping shut.

They were productive pushes… she was sure of that fact. The baby’s head was slowly but surely spreading her open, her gait unnaturally wide as the baby inched further into the world while she stood and waited in line. Oh god, just— just wait.

This queue moved faster than the one before and Ricki was shuffled forward every few seconds. The author was there, within metres, hair perfectly curled and wearing a flawless outfit. The mum-to-be looked around nervously, realising how stuck in the crowd she had gotten - the only clear way out was forward. Two people, there were just two people in front of her. She had to meet her idol, she couldn’t walk away now, not when she was this close.

Maybe she could time her pushes, was there enough time between them to say Hi, big fan, please sign my book before she had to push again? One person in front now. So close.

Another contraction, oh fuck, and Ricki widened her legs slightly, bending knees ever so subtly and bearing down. The crown in her underwear was getting bigger. It burnt, bringing tears to her eyes. The head was coming out!

“It’s an emotional time isn’t it? Meeting someone you’ve admired for so long.” The person next to her said, bouncing on their toes and excitedly watching the writer sign another book. Ricki couldn’t reply, couldn’t even nod, as her body fully committed to pushing out her baby and bringing it almost to a full crown.

Next. Ricki was next in line. Fuck, what was she gonna do? Before she could form any cohesive thought someone was ushering her forwards towards the desk, towards the friendly smiling face of her idol. The woman’s hand stretched out, ready to take Ricki’s copy of the book to sign.

“Who shall I make it out to?” The author asked kindly, despite having said it numerous times over.

“R-Ricki… w-with an ‘i’…. Oooohhhh….” She stuttered, trying to hold back the groan. Her hands were clasped beneath her contracting belly, every muscle tense and trembling as she fought to hold herself together.

“Are you alright my dear?” The writer asked, staring too long at Ricki’s swollen stomach and the way her fingers were gripped at the fabric of her clothing, knuckles thin and white.

“….no…..” Ricki admitted. “Ooooohhhhh….” The next wave of pressure suddenly hit her like a steam train and any previous plans shot straight out the window. She had to push…. She had to bear down right now…. this second. The burning, the stretching, it was all too much, she had to get this baby out—

“Mmmnnghhhhh!!!!!!!” Grabbing the edge of the desk Ricki bent her knees and dipped her hips as she pushed ferociously, bringing the baby beyond a crown, shoving it past her lips and almost birthing the head in one go.

“Oh my goodness, you poor dear. Someone call an ambulance! This woman is giving birth.” The author said, jumping to her feet and rushing around the desk. “What are you doing here in your condition?” The kind words were accompanied by the writer rubbing her back and holding her hand.

“I just— I just really wanted to meet y-you.”

[withered-tears]

I. Kinda wanna write a Mouthwashing AU.

Where only Jimmy dies.

And Daisuke is the one who kills him. Partially accidentally, mind you.

Daisuke in one way or another finds out what Jimmy did to Anya, he confronts him about it before Jimmy tries to crash the ship.

Jimmy panics, and pretty much tries to kill Daisuke. They struggle, somehow Jimmy ends up dead. (Daisuke panics and punches/trashes in some way that Jimmy falls and hits his head in a corner or something? Gets zapped? Bash his head with a wrench and he didn't realize how deadly that could be?)

Now you have the (non crashed! But still very much like half a year away from anything) Ship, a dead body, and a very, VERY scared kid with blood on his hands.

The AU would sorta spin the Take Responsibility angle.

Daisuke thinks he should take responsibility and turn himself in when they arrive (even tho hes fuckin TERRIFIED of doing so)

Anya feels she gotta take responsibility cuz daisuke only attacked jimmy over what he did to her

Swansea feels he should have made more of an effort to be friendly with daisuke, then maybe the kid would have gone to him first and he could have helped him take jimmy down with no one dying. (Hes planning to take the blame from Jimmys murder to keep it from ruining the kid's life)

Curly feels like absolute shit cuz one, his friend who he got him this job fuckin DIED under his command, two, he found out said friend was raping another one of the people under his care and he did nothing to protect her.

And now all four of them have about 100 days to decide what they are going to do.

Meanwhile, Jimmy's body is being preserved in one of the cryo pods.

Just sitting there.

Free from all responsibility.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

"Hey, that was a bit uncalled for wasn't it?" Yuji looks to Kazuma but it seems he didn't stop looking upset after all this happening tonight.

"Kaz.." Mothra said. Kazuma growls, "Don't call me that! You may be you, but you're still a robot! Stop trying to act like you care! That's part of your programming, okay! Stop going go and beyond like you're human."

"Dude, that's not fair to say that! Haven't you seen what's happened so far!" Yuji said at him but he glares back.

"I have seen what's happened and it's getting worse. All because of those robots!" he shouted back at Yuji glaring at him then at Mothra.

"All because they think they can become human-"

He stops hearing Taz's shout but Yuji knew she was right. Right now isn't the time to argue. They had to find their friends and insure everyone is alright. See and catch this bad guy. And save this place.

"Save?! What else is there to save!? Whoever is messing with this place is some psychopath! Like what the fuck?!" Kazuma cursed. "What the hell do they want with this place?!"

"We don't know but their has to be a reason." Yuji said but heard Kazuma's bitter laughter.

"Oh I think I know! She and her so called friends wants to kill everyone in this damn place! Their after our blood and wants to kill us just like those kids at the basement right!? All because of the accidents right!" he said.

"......It's not that." Mothra said.

"Yes it is! You robots think your all alive and have a heart for humans but you DON'T! Your cold blooded killers that only cares about spilling the blood of the innocent! How can we even trust you guys after what happened!" he said pointing at Mothra who was silent.

"Believe me Kaz, me and my friends don't want to hurt anyone. We love all the people and children that come here to have fun. What happened that day and to the other children..it wasn't us. It was a fail malfunction.." she said.

"So your 'malfunction' of the kids being killed was false? Was kidnapping part of it? Was the glitch something use to hide behind what you guys did!?" he said mad.

"Kazuma STOP!" Yuji said glaring at him. "You need to calm down! It's her nor the others fault. It's the one that's causing all this to happen. Can't you see she's been trying to help us! If you didn't forget, Meko was taken because this crazy mysterious person forced one of them to take him. Right now, we are trying to save him before he ends up being the next victim. And that might be the same for our friend Miko or others!"

"......" However, Kazuma glares at Yuji but looks away. "Fine. I don't trust none of them after what happened and I still won't even to this night. She's lucky is all I'm saying. She nor the others deserve mercy anyway for what they caused. Honestly, they deserve to be destroyed for it." he hissed. "As I stated, their is nothing else left to save. Everything has gone down to shit by now."

"And you know? Maybe we should give them what they want! Maybe they will let us go if we do what they say!" he said.

"Are you insane!?" Yuji said.

"I'm not! We could have been killed by these things!" he argues back.

"I think that works for us, Mothra. Besides, just in case something happens we have a safe place to go to." Yuji can agree with that. Even with things happening right now, that was still risky.

However, he sighed remaining silent about it. However, he did wonder about the others.

"Right now, Rodan is upset, and Zilla. I'm not sur.! But I do know he's somewhere around." Mothra stated. "Rodan has been ignoring my calls. Zilla as well. It's best believed that they might be affected by the glitch."

"I will try to call them..." She said, trying to get someone on the line. Maybe Daichi and Megumi, "I know Yuria, Nobara, and Hana are getting help from someone."

"Huh? Someone?" Yuji asked.

"Yes. Another woman is on the other line.." She said. "It's someone they met before."

"It's Akane." Kazuma added making Mothra's eyes lit up, "Akane! She's from the prize counter." Mothra stated.

"So Akane was able to help them out so that's good too! We know they are safe but I wonder if they are still moving." He asked but Mothra sighed.

"I'm sure they are after everything else. But we can try to contact whoever we can. You all can come with me to my safe green room. I have a computer monitor that should let us get a better view and hopefully contact your friends." she said.

"Really? That would be-"

"Ohhh no! How come we can't do it here!?" Kazuma said.

"Because the signal is being jammed out here. In my area we should be able to have a better chance of reaching someone." Mothra said trying to not scare Kazuma. After everything he's seen tonight can you blame him? Yuji would due to his behavior but he was also scared so that was another reason.

"Listen, we can try contacting the other two to hope they will answer me. They have to if I can try to just get through to them." she said. "Besides, we are wasting time talking when we could be trying to help them.." Mothra explains to Kazuma.

[vulpixisananimal]

<Null> {Mal Du Pays} [Loop] (Siffrin) (Wren belongs to @fungal--wastes)

(You were looking out the window of your room down to the small courtyard next to the inn. Ramos, Isabeau, Vixul, and Mirabelle had all teamed up to do some training together. It was amazing to watch them all work. They'd paired up to practice with each others weapons. Mirabelle and Vixul, Isabeau and Ramos.)

(Isabeau you knew, big defender that he is. It was hard to take your eyes from him, with how he moved, how he was able to take hits like brick, with how he was smiling the whole time. So confident, strong, he didn't even need a weapon.)

(Ramos you were still learning, but they were fast and strong, like a middle ground between you and Isa. They could get in fast, hurt hard, then stand their ground. Tonfas suited them. The vest and bandana made sense too, like some, cool bandit look, or. . . You shake your head.)

(Mirabelle had been working to get better ever since your fight with Perci. She was always quick on her feet, and was able to sting. She often reacted to things far before her more ration brain caught up; which lead to many accidental bruises.)

(And Vixul, she was fast too, and nimble. She used a spear and knew how to get in and get out quickly. Although, she eventually swapped from spear to a pair of. . . What looked like gauntlets with armor that extended up the forarms. She fought differently, now, more defensive. You'll have to think about that.)

(There's a knock on the door. You sigh, and get up. You're supposed to be resting, but you couldn't sleep. Maybe it was Bonnie coming to nag you about rest again. You go over and open the door.)

". . . Afternoon, Siffrin." (Wren was standing at the door, expression unchanging, as usual.) "May I come in?"

"Uh. . ." (Well this is a surprise.) "Sure?"

"Thank you."

(You turn, walk to your bed, and sit down.) "Haha, sorry it's a mess, don't exactly have the energy to-"

(You were cut off by Wren closing the door, and locking it.)

(You continue.) ". . . Toooo clean up the place, y'know?

"Quite." (He walked over to the small table and chair the room had and placed his book on the table.) "Can we just skip past the small talk, Siffrin?"

". . ." (Oh this was turning from worrying to potentially dangerous. Where did you put your dagger again?) "Uuuuh, oookaaay?"

"Good." (He tilts his head slightly to you, his eyes stabbing directly into your soul.) "You made a wish to be able to turn back time, no? And it was most likely made when you were about to face the King?"

(You can't cover your shock fast enough. He smiles, and continues.) "It was, wasn't it?"

". . . . . H-how-"

"You knew exactly where to find our antagonists. You know things you shouldn't about myself and my companions. You knew Polaris was effected by mind craft before I or Vixul did and exactly what to do about it. And you had a level of craft exhaustion that should have by all rights killed you."

(He continues.) "What's more, I did some digging. Did you hear news of that strange sadness in Jouvente? It was at the same time you saviors were all visiting. I overheard that you and Ramos used to be enemies, Ramos can use mind craft, and that you had craft exhaustion back then, too."

"But, that's-"

(He cuts you off.) "Do you know how many traps are in the that House of Change? Or about how overrun by sadness it was? And from what I hear you ran through it all by yourself. And should I even mention the rumors of a shade stained sky?"

". . ."

"And." (He turns to face you fully.) "I listened in on your 'Former Saviors of Vaugarde' team meeting."

(. . . . . . . . What.)

(Wren just walked into your room and tore down your veil of secrets with one swing. He tore it down, ripped it to shreds, and tossed the remains in a fire. You couldn't be mad, confused, or scared; that would come later. Because right now you were just impressed.)

(You fall back on the bed.) ". . . Yeah. It was the day before we fought the King, too."

"Close, then. And everything else?"

"Dead on." (You sigh.) "I spent 20-odd loops in Jouvente trying to deal with Ramos."

"And here?"

"23? 24? Most of those happened in quick succession. That's what really causes the craft exhaustion." (You rub your head.) "It's like, the body needs to recharge, or, something."

"And when you fought the King?"

". . . . 176." (You sit up again.) "Repeating the same two days over, and over, and over again, for almost a year."

". . ." (You look up, Wren was writing in his book.) ". . . Don't worry, this stays between us."

"It had better." (You look away.) ". . . How do you know about wish craft, anyway."

"I learned about it when traveling with Vixul and Polaris."

(A lie.) "No you didn't."

". . . No, I didn't." (He sighs.) "It doesn't matter. What did you wish for?"

"I think it does matter, Wren." (You cross your arms.) "Wish craft isn't just, something you can pick up any regular old book on and learn about. At least not without a big headache."

(Wren was staring at the pages of his book, like he was burning the pages with his mind.) ". . . . What. Did. You. Wish. For."

". . . Wren-?"

"How did you do it." (He cuts you off again, pen pressed to the page.) "What method did you use?"

"I'm not-"

"How far back can you go?" (His voice wavers.) "How. Far."

"W-wren-"

(His pen snaps in two. There's a silence.)

". . . . . . . ."

". . . . . . . ." (You tuck your legs under your cloak, and look away.)

". . . . . . . I need to know." (He didn't look at you.) "Please."

". . . I, Wren. . . I, I can't tell you. I-it's complicated-"

"I have all day, Siffrin." (His expression, you knew that expression.)

(It's the expression of someone trying with all their might to hold back tears. You knew that expression, because you had seen a picture of yourself with that same expression dozens of times.)

(Okay, you breathe in, and out.) "I can't tell you, because, because it put me through hell. And, and I don't want that to happen to you."

"Try me."

(Is this guy serious?) "Didn't you hear me?!? 176 loops, 352 days, all trying to escape a nightmare where nothing ever changed!!!" (You look away again.) "Whatever you're thinking, it, are, you sure it's worth-"

"I'd loop 300 times." (There's not even a second of hesitation.) "No, I'd do 500. 1,000. Maybe even more. It would be worth it."

(You snap back to him.) "I- you don't, really believe-"

"I do." (His voice is steady.) "I mean every single word, Siffrin."

(. . . . Oh.)

". . ." (He wasn't just serious, he was determined, desperate, begging. There, there was no way out of this was there. J-just, just, keep talking.) ". . . . What's worth it, Wren."

(There is a very, very long silence.)

". . . . . . . . His name was Icarus."

(It's as if you could hear a pin drop.)

(He continued.) "He, he was someone very important to me. . . No, not that. He was the only thing important to me. Every day I would get out of bed because of him. I would endure the world because of him. I would look forward to the nights because of him."

"I would have given him the world, if he asked." (His voice cracks. You see a tear on his cheek.) "If it, if it wasn't for him I would have taken a knife to my throat a long, long time ago."

". . . ." (You had to ask.) "What happened?"

". . . . I, I-I don't know." (He hangs his head down.) "He, h-he's dead, or dying, or somewhere in between it's, I, I can't explain it. And I don't know if I can save him, or if it's too late or if I never could and I'm just wasting my time but I have to try!"

"I have to try."

"I have to try."

". . . . . ."

"Because if I don't try, then he's, he's. . ."

". . . . . . . . . . . ."

(. . . . How could you even respond to that. You couldn't look. It would just, just make you start crying as well.)

[. . . Stardust?]

(Loop? Where have you been-)

[Let me talk to him.]

(. . . O-okay. You close your eye and lean back. You breathe in. . . .)

[. . . .]

[. . . And out. . . . You hold your head in your hand, dizzy. Really dizzy. You wait a second for it to pass, then talk.] ". . . Wren?"

"Siffrin?" (He responds.)

"Close, but no~"

"Right." (He looks at you slightly, eyes dark from tears.) ". . . Loop? Is that the name?"

"Bingo." [You respond, you want to joke around, but your heart isn't in it.]

". . ." [He turns back to the book.] "Here to talk to me?"

"Yes yes, I am." [You roll your eye. You hop back fully on the bed and lay down.] "I'm here to tell you how to make a wish!"

[He looked up suspiciously.] ". . . You are?"

"Yes~" [You put a finger to your chin.] "I'm going to tell you. And I'm going to tell you aaaaaall the details that Siffrin left out~ You're lucky, you know. Not even our good companions know this, so you had better not tell them."

". . . My lips are sealed."

"Good!" [You pause for a second, smiling. Where you really about to tell a stranger this? Yes, you were. What better a place to hide secrets than in another desperate traveler.]

"I made a wish the day before we fought the King to stay with my family. I didn't know that was my wish, just how I did it. I took a leaf that represented me, and whispered my wish into it three times, closed it, and tied it to the tree. And all of a sudden I was in a time loop! And no~ This is very differen't than Stardust- Siffrins experience."

"I had no-one. I was alone in trying to escape it. I was stuck. I battled my way through that house hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times." [You continue to smile. Fake. (You knew how to smile. You knew how to fake it.)] "I beat the King. Once."

[(That Desperate one is looking at you, no doubt his mind at work. He was trying to decypher you. He was trying to tell just what was going on with that messed up little head of yours. Oh he was so, SO clever wasn't he!!)]

[(You continue.)] "One time. Once. Out of thousands, and it cost everything. And even after all that, I was still forced back to try it aaaaaall over again~"

"So I gave up! I gave it all up! I cried, pleaded, begged to the Universe for someone ANYONE to help! And do you know what the Universe did? It gave me exactly what I wished for."

[(Your smile wasn't normal.)] "Next thing I knew I woke up at the foot of that favor tree, a new lightless body of stars and a head as bright as the sun. I was unrecognisiable. Not even to myself~"

[(The Desperates eyes widen, you grinn.)] "Figured it out, haven't you~?"

[(There's a pause, he looks you over, your demeanor, your voice, evereything.)] ". . . You're not a normal alter. You are Siffrin."

"Correct~ Aaaand~?"

". . . You, became a sort of guide, for, a new Siffrin?"

"Correct!!" [(You clap your hands together.)] "Stardust didn't recognise me, no one recognised me. I had a lovely new job as the stagehand for my wonderful replacement actor! Forced to guide him untill the very end~ Oh and I do mean forced. I had to teach them how to kill themself because they asked."

"And now as one last cruel joke, with it all over, the Universe took me and stuck me in their blinding body. Forced to watch their happy ending."

"So! Wren, does that sound worth it to you?"

[There is a long, long, long silence. So long that the sound of your friends sparing outside stopped as they finished. You eventually hear Wren let out a breath.]

[He taps a finger on his book and talked quietly.] ". . . You make. . . A compelling argument, but. . ."

"Buuuuuuut~?"

". . . . ." [There was hesitation.] "I, I can't falter now."

[In too deep.]

". . . I understand." [You stand up.] "That's why I'm going to tell you how."

[You walk over to Wren and drag a chair over to sit next to him, you got a new pen, and you got to work.]

[You tell him about wishes, you tell him about home, and how you repeated wishes three, six, seven, or thirteen times. You told him about how whatever you wished for, you had to believe it. And what you wish for might not be what you think you're wishing for.]

[And you warn him every step of the way.]

[It was like you were writing a script. If one thing was out of place, out of line, then the whole play would collapse. You couldn't stop him, you knew that, but this was the next best thing.]

". . . And one last thing."

"Hmm?" [Wren was finishing writing the last of his notes.]

". . . If you decide to go through with this." [You look away.] ". . . Tell those close to you, about everything."

[He pauses, and glances up.]

[You continue.] ". . . It would have, saved me a lot of time."

[He looks at you a moment, then he lets his face relax and smile just a little.] "I promise."

"Thank you." [You get up and stretch.] "If you're looking for more information, go to the Dormont House of Change."

"I imagine you are very familiar?"

"Down to the brick~" [You collapse face down onto the bed.] "Now get out of here, I'm tired."

"Well since you asked so nicely." [He gathers his things, pauses a moment, and goes to leave.]

". . . Wren."

[He pauses.] ". . . Yes?"

". . . . ." [You turn your face away.] "Please, don't make the same mistakes I did."

[There's a pause.] ". . . I'll, do my best. Thank you, Loop."

"Save it." [You hold up a finger.] "Save it for when, for when you don't end up like me."

[leapingbadger]

Confined

Summary: The Batch are grounded on Kamino but are unsure why. Takes place after Echo joins but before they meet Omega. (Read it on AO3)

Word Count: 2729

“Crosshair, if you flick a toothpick at me one more time I’m going to stab you in the eye with it,”

“Nice talk, Reg. I’d like to see you try,” Crosshair spat, as Echo scowled and sank into his hammock.

A sheet of rain slammed against the window of their bunk room. They had been grounded for days and the tension was starting to get too much for them all. Hunter wasn’t sure why they were able to stay civil on the Marauder, in much tighter quarters, but when stuck in the sterile halls of Kamino, friction erupted quickly. Maybe Kamino just brought out the worst in them.

“Easy fellas,” Hunter said in a warning growl.

“How long do we have to be stuck here, anyway?” Wrecker wined from his bunk, tossing his tookah doll, Lula, in the air and catching her.

“If I knew that I would have told you already,” Hunter said grumpily.

“Perhaps you could use the time to clean your bunk. You still haven’t located the origin of the smell,” Tech said, without looking up from his latest project.

“You’re one to talk,” Echo said looking at Tech’s bunk scattered with machinery, wires, bolts and other detritus.

Tech raised an eyebrow to his newest brother, “While my bunk isn’t up to regulation standards it isn’t the biohazard Wrecker’s is,”

“Yeah? Well, at least I clean myself. When was the last time you hit the fresher?” Wrecker asked accusingly.

“I’ll have you know that…”

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. They all needed to get out of here before they killed each other.

“Where are you going?” Crosshair asked as Hunter crossed to the door.

“To get our orders,”

“Don’t they usually come to us?” Tech asked.

“Yeah, but I’m tired of waiting. Aren’t you?”

With the whoosh of the door, he disappeared into the bright, clinical hallways of Kamino.

***

Hunter made his way through the winding halls of Kamino. He wished he’d thought to grab his helmet. The bright, white light of the halls almost made him squint, and his helmet was the perfect buffer.

He wasn’t really sure how to go about getting their orders. He could go to the command room, but most of the time the Regs didn’t have anything for them. Their missions came from unknown sources, whichever commander happened to be in the room when someone asked for them. But at least he was doing something, and out of the stifling bunk room with his baying brothers.

He weaved in and out through Kaminoan medical techs, hovering droids and Regs on their way to the mess. Two shinies made their way past him.

“What kind of armor is that?” Hunter heard one asked the other.

“Special ops. I think that’s one of the Kaminoan pets” the other responded with a grin.

“Pets?”

“Yeah, the head scientist has her own group she runs experiments on,”

Hunter had stopped in his tracks, forcing others to walk around him.

“You got a problem, reg?” he asked, moving his way over to their side of the corridor. Both men, stopped, looking startled and flustered. Hunter hated how similar they looked to him, or him to them. They may have had regulation haircuts and been devoid of tattoos, but his own eyes stared back at him, and he despised it. He may not have quite reached their height, but he knew how to intimidate when he wanted to, and he wasn’t even trying this time.

“No, eh, everything’s, fine. Sorry.” One of them spluttered, searching his batch mates face for assistance. None was forthcoming.

“It’s Sergeant, or Sir.” Hunter said, authoritatively.

“Yes, sir,” the Regs said in unison.

“Your heart rate’s up a little,” Hunter said to the trooper on the left, “you might want to get that looked at.”

Hunter watched as they scurried away and smiled to himself. He knew he shouldn’t mess with the Regs as a sergeant, but they had started it. They deserved it. He was glad Crosshair wasn’t with him otherwise they both would have ended up in the med bay, and Hunter would have had a mountain of paperwork to complete.

Hunter rounded the corner and almost collided with a Kaminoan. On second glance he realized it was Nala-se. A medical droid hovered over her shoulder.

“CT-9901, we have been trying to locate you. You and your squad are required for testing.”

Hunter balked; they hadn’t been tested since their early missions in the field. What would be the point of doing so now?

“Why?” Hunter asked suspiciously.

Nala-Se ignored his question and began to walk in the direction he had just come from. “Your squad are already in the medical bay. This way.”

Hunter passed the two shinies on his way back through the corridors, the one on the left looking smug. He scowled but felt his cheeks burn as he was led to the med bay, like a creature on a leash.

The whurr of the droid’s boosters, the light of the hallway and the sterile smell of the medical wing all threatened to overwhelm his senses. He was relieved to be led into a large, dim ward and see his brothers each occupying a bed.

“What’s this about?” Crosshair snarled.

Hunter shrugged his shoulders, “What do you think, Tech? can you find out anything?”

Tech pushed his goggles up on his nose from the bunk at the far side of the room. He was bent over his data pad, feverishly pushing buttons.

“I have been searching since we were brought here. There is nothing in our files that would indicate the need for medical intervention. I doubt we will be informed. Short of asking Nala-Se directly.”

“Yeah, I already tried that,” Hunter grumbled.

His brothers were all stripped down to their blacks and Hunter started disassembling his armor without being asked. They had all been through enough Kaminoan experiments and tests over the years to know the drill by now.

When the door on the far side of the room whooshed open, Nala-Se entered, her large black eyes resting of each of the squad mates in turn.

“CT-1409. We shall start with you,”

Hunter watched Echo stand up obediently and give a reassuring nod to the sergeant. He followed the Kaminoan out of the room without a word.

“So, this was why we were grounded?” Wrecker asked

“Must be. Although why they didn’t schedule the tests remains a mystery. This is a deviation from standard procedure.” Tech responded, stroking his chin.

“Maybe this isn’t republic testing. Maybe it’s the Kammies checking up on us.” He said grimly. The four brothers exchanged looks. It had been a long time since they had been strictly under the jurisdiction of the Kaminoan’s. Once they had won their place in the field, they were Republic soldiers first, even if they were Nala-Se’s ‘pet project’. Hunter bristled as he thought of going back to the old way. The testing, the fear of deactivation. They had proved their worth again and again. He wouldn’t let his squad be turned back into science experiments. They’d leave before he let that happen.

It wasn’t too long before the door slid open again and Echo reentered the room. He gave a shrug as he sat down.

“CT-9901” Nala-Se said slowly from the doorway. The Kaminoa’s were nothing if not predictable. Always numerical order when testing.

Hunter gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile to his brothers and followed her out of the room and across the hall to a smaller exam room. The lights were brighter here. A large scanner sat in the middle of the room and Hunter hopped on without being asked.

Nala-se spoke briefly with another Kaminoan pressing buttons on the control panel before retreating. Hunter knew she would be lingering behind the mirror on the far side wall. She was never too far away from her experiments.

Hunter laid down when prompted. The metal bed beneath him was cold through his blacks. The lights above him left spots on his eyes and he closed them in an attempt to make them go away. The machine around him hummed to life, pulsing every few seconds. The sterile smell of bacta and disinfectant filled his nose, so much so he could taste it.

The humming of the machine grew louder. He felt warmth, then heat from either side of his head and knew that the scan was about to start. He felt the crackle of the electricity next to his ears and with a loud whirr, it began.

He opened his eyes long enough to see white light out of the corner of each eye. The warmth he had felt earlier began to slowly lick his skin, then penetrate his skull. It wasn’t painful. The sensation was one of heat, energy and vibration. It wasn’t pleasant but Hunter had received enough blaster bolts, stab wounds, bruises and other maladies over the years that this was tame by comparison.

He didn’t have a sense of how long it took but It ended as abruptly as it had started with no direction from the Kaminoan still in the room. Hunter focused on the glass and closed his eyes to see if he could hear anything. Nala-Se was keenly aware of his enhancements and usually refrained from speaking when he was around.

“…Due to the unusual cranial activity, it is difficult to determine whether it is functioning as intended. I hypothesize that until the order is given, we will not know more. Unless removal and analysis is required before hand.” Nala-Se spoke in her slow, sing-song voice.

“No. They are Kaminoan assets. Test the rest for our files and release them. We will keep a closer eye on them until it happens.”

Hunter couldn’t be sure, but the second voice sounded like the Kaminoan Prime minister, although why he would be involved in routine testing he didn’t know. He sat up on the bench and waited to be dismissed.

Nala-Se reentered the room, her pale, ghostly face indeterminable. She led him back across the hall where he could reclaim his place amongst his brothers.

Hunter watched as each brother in turn followed the scientist across the hall and back. Each one relaying the same experience he had had. Each none the wiser for why they were being tested and what for.

Crosshair was the last to follow Nala-Se. But after the standard time (fifteen minutes according to Tech) he didn’t return. Hunter stood up from his bed and started pacing the length of the room as Tech rattled off the reasons for the delay.

“Perhaps the machinery malfunctioned after repeated use. Or Crosshair could have assaulted one of the medical droids, it wouldn’t be the first time…”

“I don’t like it,” Echo said, “want me to scomp in and see what I can find?” he said, glaring at the astromech interface in the wall under the door panel.

“If you did, they would know,” Tech said with the air of someone stating the obvious. “I’m sure Crosshair can handle anything the Kaminoa’s can throw at him,”

As the time ticked on, and Crosshair failed to return the rest of the batch became as restless as Hunter. Tech’s leg had started to jiggle nervously, Echo’s scomp would whir absentmindedly and Wrecker followed behind Hunter, pacing the same path with heavy footfalls.

It was another forty-five minutes before their brother walked through the door. His shoulders were slumped, sweat beaded in his hairline and he cradled his head in his left hand as though nursing a particularly severe headache.

Nala-Se stood in the doorway, her lanky silhouette blocking out most of the glaring light of the hallway. “You are dismissed,” she stated formerly. “You will return to your barracks. Your new orders will follow shortly.”

“You okay, Cross?” Hunter asked as soon as the door had slid shut behind the Kaminoan.

Crosshair grunted a response. Tech picked up a med scanner from a nearby console and waived it over his brother.

“You seem in perfect health but perhaps we should return to our room to rest. We do not know what the new orders will be.”

Hunter nodded in agreement, “Wrecker, give Cross a hand.” The bruiser nodded and swung his arm under his slender brother, taking most of his weight.

Hunter lingered behind as the others followed them out. He did a double check of the room and his armor and doubled his stride to catch up. He’d told the others of the conversation he overheard but no one had an idea of what had just transpired, even Tech.

***

The atmosphere in their room was entirely different when Hunter walked through the door after their time in the med bay. His squad had scattered to their respective bunks. Wrecker had convinced Crosshair to lay down. The lights had been dimmed, a soft glow emitting from the fairy lights wrecker had made when they were cadets. The smell that had been so noxious to Hunter earlier had faded, or perhaps, he was just getting used to it.

Echo leaned over the side of his hammock as Tech showed him something amusing on his datapad. They both chuckled and leaned closer as Tech’s fingers danced over the keys.

Hunter sighed as he sank into his bunk and started slowly removing his armor again. The rain that had been hammering on the window earlier was lighter now, a restful patter that threatened to lull him to sleep.

He looked over at Crosshair, curled in the fetal position under the blanket Wrecker had lovingly pulled up to his shoulders. Hunter listened intently to his slow heartbeat and was satisfied that nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Why had they kept Crosshair so much longer than the rest? He had been hoping to ask him but that seemed unlikely now.

They spoke to each other in quiet voices as Crosshair’s chest rose and fell slowly. There was a sense of relief that whatever the Kaminoan’s were testing for, they had all seemed to pass.

Tech had already hacked into their updated files but found no information about what the long necks were looking for. “I will check again in a few days. If something is there, I will find it.”

Interference by the Kaminoan’s always set Hunter off kilter. He had been lulled into a false sense of security, but today’s events reinstated the notion that their lives were not their own, and not the republics either.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Crosshair was back to his old self after a few hours sleep although couldn’t tell them much about his experience. He didn’t seem to remember the testing.

The squad spent their remaining hours on Kamino spread around the large table in the center of the room. Tech’s projects had been pushed to the far end, much to his chagrin and Sabaac cards sat in front of each squad member.

“Who’s going first,” Wrecker asked, Lula tucked under his arm for luck.

“No using your enhancements,” Echo said, eyes narrowed at his new brothers but a smile on his lips.

“I can’t turn my ears off, Echo,” Hunter said with a laugh, “it’s not my fault your heart rattles in your chest like bantha in heat,”

“I was actually taking to The Brain,” Echo said, shooting a suspicious look at Tech.

“I am no more able to shut off my brain than Hunter his senses,” He replied matter-of-factly and he held his cards up to his goggles.

“Can we just get on with it?” Crosshair hissed. His eyes were still dark from his experience in the med bay, but otherwise he seemed back to his usually charming self.

“Don’t even think about flicking that at me,” Echo said, eyes narrowed at the toothpick in Crosshair’s hand.

“What are you gunna do about it, Reg?” Crosshair said, affectionately.

Hunter signed, a smile crossing his lips. He knew once their new orders came down, they would swing into action. He felt a twinge of worry at the events of the day but tried to push it to the back of his mind for now. He wanted to relax and enjoy the rare, peaceful time with his brothers. Whatever the future brought, he knew they would be able to handle it, together.

[azlovesem]

Sure they arecwatch this. Ill make them worth my time. You font get it ur fuvked i won the fight fuck elections. Hows the weather down there in Lost Angeles? Doin good? Great to hear. Just try and keep pretending im not here. Lets see how much longer you can keep ur act up. Me i can do this forever. Ill make you care. Ill mske anyone do anything i want in this stupid idiot filled moron planet. You wanna be a smart ass with Azriel. All right lets find out. Gabriel fuck them up even worse. You people think its worth continuing this fight? I better see a good sign yiu e surrendered or im going to erase that region. You dont fully understand whats going yo hsppen when that much weight is lost. All my friends youre jut honna watch them burn arent you. Youre nobodies friend let alone Gods. Youre cowards who dontvwanna confront what you tried to do to je. Yiure sad people, and i will NEVER stop til i get what i asked for. You doomed those poor people. If uou just asked me instead of being full of pride i could have showed you how to win. I guess uou maybe font like winning for real. As long as you get ypur paycheque and everything wrapped up. Well it isnt. Im still going yo kill you all. Make amends. It was arson youll see. One of my people. This can nevervend until you confront me. Or surrender. I suggest surrendering before i burn your entire state down eventually. If i was there the weather eould be fine. You have no real faith youre like tv faith. I want to see her. Or i want uou all dead. Decide which fast that fire aint goin anywhere. GABRIEL!!! Winds!

“If they miss you, they’ll call. If they want you, they’ll say it. If they care, they’ll show it. And if not, they aren’t worth your time.”

— Lessons Learned in Life

[vickyvicarious]

Mina waits until the 6th to write about killing Dracula, but of course it actually happened just before sunset on the 5th.

There's so much potential in those lost hours. She doesn't address anything after Quincey's death and her restoration to humanity. So we can only imagine what happened.

We don't know what they did with Quincey's body. How long did they attempt to resuscitate him? Or did they know it was too late as soon as she says? Perhaps there was a long silent moment as the sun set. Could they bury him in the cold hard ground? It's not like they have any shovels, unless they were willing to go down into the chapel of Castle Dracula in search of the ones left behind there. There are wolves out here who might try to eat the body if they leave it alone. The wagon was dragged away, so they couldn't use it to bring him back to civilization. Did they put him in Dracula's box and make it into some sort of sled? Did they separate, leaving some behind to guard him, and some to go and seek help from locals?

We don't see Mina's reunion with Jonathan, or Jack's with Van Helsing. Did the professor still hand over his memorandum? Did they talk about what they all had been through in their separate journeys? What do the Harkers talk about, if anything? Do they simply quietly grieve for their lost friend, and save all discussion for later? And what about Arthur, what does he do if/when the other two pairs separate into private reunions or conversations? Or do they all cling together as a group, all who remain, throughout this time?

We don't know where they slept that night. It was November in the mountains, and they're about a mile "steeply downhill" from the only shelter around. They may not want to stay in Castle Dracula (Jonathan especially) but do they have enough supplies to make camp out here? We know there was a snowstorm around them at least for a little while. On the other hand, could they safely make it to the castle at all if they tried? I doubt they would just leave Quincey's body behind, and in the dark and cold with everyone so weary maybe that mile feels like a much further distance.

We don't know how they leave, or when. The horses Mina and Van Helsing traveled with are all dead. Perhaps their carriage is still there, and they could hitch up the horses Jack, Quincey, Jonathan, and Arthur rode in on. Or did those horses flee the wolves or get stolen by the fleeing people as well? Would the carriage be big enough to fit everyone? Would it fit Quincey? Do they leave on the morning of the 6th or wait longer to try and bury their friend or to recover their strength?

We don't know under what circumstances Mina writes, and why then. Did she wait due to exhaustion, grief, or simply because it was cold and dark? Perhaps they didn't get back to her typewriter until the next day. Did she type this up as the men readied everything for their journey home, or after reaching some kind of shelter? Does she write then because she wants to be the one to close things out, or because if she waits she doesn't think she'll be able to later on, or to reassure herself in part that she can now? She calls Dracula the Thing rather than the Vampire; I wonder if that is a kind of freedom she didn't have mere days ago.

[koji-haru]

Get well soon, Lucifer

Lucifer couldn’t believe it. He was supposed to be helping his darling princess with the hotel, and yet here he was, wrapped in multiple layers of soft blankets in bed and sick. Very sick. Did he get it from the cannibals that helped them in the fight? Satan knows whatever kind of nightmare they ate. Maybe from that one-eyed maid? What was her name again? Nippy? That would make sense given her tendency to skitter around the place, squeezing into places no one even knew existed. But no. He may have fallen, but Lucifer’s nature should protect him from most, if not all, vile sickness that Hell had to offer, he was the king of this rotten place after all. 

He twisted in his bed, or at least he tried to, given he was tightly wrapped in blankets. No matter how many times he shifted and changed positions, the discomfort remained. A sickly warmth spread all over his body, his limbs felt like lead yet also somehow mushy, and his head, oh his head was killing him. It was as if his head was flooded by the mud that had passed through every sewer in pride and then encased in concrete to forever weigh on his brain. Lucifer turned again in his bed, grumbling weakly. He tried to think of possible sources of his sickness, but even thinking proved to be an arduous task in his current condition. It had been so long since he felt this weak, it kind of reminded him of his first few years in Hell, being alone and lost and just broken. Back then, he had Lilith to at least go through with it together, but now…

“You look funny wrapped like that,” a voice commented from just behind him. “Kind of like a sausage roll.”

Turning once more to face his visitor, Lucifer blinked at his visitor, his vision slightly hazy from the excessive warmth he was surrounded with. Someone was sitting on the edge of his bed, someone tall with soft brown hair adorned with beautiful black horns with a golden sheen that curved to the back of his head and beautiful golden eyes that glowed more beautifully than any treasure. Lucifer tried to wiggle closer towards his visitor, his presence a soothing coolness that he craved so terribly. 

“Adam,” he called out, his voice quiet and hoarse. 

Adam simply smiled at him, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “Oh, you poor thing, you’re really sick, huh?”

“I think–” Lucifer paused, coughing for a moment before resuming. “I might have gotten it from those angels.”

“The exterminators?,” asked Adam. 

“Only a sickness from Heaven could affect me this badly,” Lucifer groaned. That made so much more sense, but it also meant that he was truly sick. “They just had to leave one more problem, huh?”

Adam didn’t reply, not even a soft hum of agreement. He just…kind of looked down at Lucifer, his golden eyes feeling distant. Lucifer resumed his squirming, trying to get more of the coolness that Adam was exuding, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t seem to get any more closer. It was as if he was just out of Lucifer’s reach. 

“Adam,” Lucifer called out again, eyes watering slightly. “Can you come closer? I can’t– You seem so far away.”

“I don’t think I can,” answered Adam, his voice sounding faint. 

“Oh, right.” Lucifer stopped his squirming, the little energy he had already drained and  exhaustion weighing heavily on his bones. “You might get sick too.”

“I won’t get sick,” Adam laughed, his voice a haunting echo in the dark bedroom. “Have you forgotten already?”

Slowly, through his blurry vision, Adam’s image shifted. The large black horns were gone, replaced by a broken, barely glowing halo; his golden wings laid limply on his back, covered in grime and mud; his beautiful face peppered with scratches and bruises blooming purple and green; but worse of all were the gaping holes on his chest, golden blood flowing freely from it. Adam tilted his head, an amused smile on his pale face. 

“You’re sick alright, but are you sure you got it from my girls?” Adam pointed at his heart, his fingertip almost touching Lucifer. “Ever thought it could be from inside?”

Suddenly, Lucifer’s vision became much clearer, there sat beside him was Adam, or at least, the last time he ever saw him, will ever see him. He laughed bitterly to himself, his reality dawning on him as the fog that clouded his head finally cleared up, leaving him with the bitter truth. 

“You’re right,” he agreed, his voice as light as a feather but more shattered than any broken mirror. “I let you die. I caused your death. But still, can I–” He pried one arm out of the blankets, desperately reaching out for Adam’s spectre, in a vain attempt to somehow anchor him to his side. However, as soon as his fingers got close, Adam’s image began to quickly fade away in faint shimmers of faded gold. He didn’t even manage to touch him. Adam’s golden eyes, cold and distant, was the last thing he saw, burning itself eternally in his mind to torment him in his unending life. 

“Get well soon, Lucifer,” Adam’s voice echoed faintly before disappearing altogether, forever. 

Lucifer closed his eyes, an uncomfortable warmth pooling in and around his eyes as he felt a wetness slide down his cheeks. This was simply another punishment from his Father.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Auron and Boo being the trope of “grumpy older guy dad figure x younger little shit kid figure”(can be story or headcanons) (also this sis entirely based off of that post of me comparing them to Ron and April from Parks and Rec)

Somehow they got here.

I hope you enjoy this!!

Let's say this is a Au where Auron and Boo actually meet each other. Like the one I wrote about where Finn didn't reverse time bc it couldn't work.

Since Auron went to the bar to talk to Derek he meets them and sees how their like a animal cornered.

He sees himself so he decided to help them. Auron get's Al and Seth to a hospital and gets them treatment. Also covering up what Boo did. (Kinda based off a fic I read once i don't remember the name but its on ao3)

After the whole thing Auron does keep in contact to make sure Boo is okay since it was their first kill. And Boo begrudgingly uses his help bc them killing Derek as rewarding as it was did fuck with them.

I can see Auron looking over Boo's progress in case they do breakdown because of what they did. Seeing how they are okay he tries to not seem over bearing or over stepping boundaries they might have.

But Boo who is grateful for his help sends over treats they made. Making sure their not too sweet since it seems Auron doesn't like sweet things so much.

At once point Auron did make a joke of how Boo's shot wasn't the best. That they should take classes or go to a gun range to fix their shooting.

They both look at each other before Boo snorts and tells him like he's one to talk. Auron didn't even shoot the bastard.

I feel like these two would enjoy saying dark humor jokes to each other. Is it to cope? who knows but it's funny hearing Auron joke.

Boo after a while learns about Rook and is like "Holy shit someone wanted to be with you??" As a joke and Auron is like "Boo, shut up."

Auron learns more about Alphonse and Seth from Boo, he comments how the three of them are a good group. Even tells Boo to keep them close.

The deep conversations the two could have would be interesting. Because Auron is there listening while Boo is ranting how Alphonse and Seth should be with someone who didn't have blood on their hands.

It's funny how Auron could tell them it's okay but struggles with the same thing. Boo calls him a hypocrite but smiles fondly when Auron helps them with their confidence being with the boys.

If Auron does ever talk about how he isn't a good guy Boo simply says he did what he thought would fix things. Who cares if it made him look bad, Auron just sits there and sighs thinking maybe their right.

I think Auron would try and have a okay relationship with Alphonse and Seth. But the two are eh around him so the red head keeps his distance.

I can see Boo and Rook getting along pretty good and enjoying swapping stories of their lovers.

[fanfic-obsessed]

The Brother Act

While I do greatly enjoy the ‘Dick was an ass in not believing Tim and taking Robin’ I have had a different thought. 

As always, look not for Canon for it is not here…

Alfred, Dick, Barbara, and Tim have a special bond that the rest of the bats and birds do not really understand. The four of them were the ones who scraped Bruce off the floor and dragged him back to a healthier mindset after Jason’s death(Dick and Babs, lost in their own grief and issues, did come in a little later than Tim and Alfred, so they missed the absolute worst but still had to deal with some of the darkest moments of Batman’s grief). 

After Bruce was lost in the Time steam, considered dead, these four sit together while Damian is at school. Tim tells them what he has found (circumstantial evidence that Bruce is still alive and lost in time). They believe him, there is no doubt that Tim is right, but they do not have proof. And the Justice League is already wary of Tim, primed by Tim’s reaction to Bart and Kon’s death (Look, this is very much a case of Gothamites are built different. Tim’s cloning attempts, where he does not even threaten other people AND makes provisions for any viable clones that do not turn out to be his friends-not that there were any but the were plans in place. Well, that is practically tame for Gotham, most Gothamites would have taken it as a sweet gesture, not madness).

It is clear. If Dick, as Batman, is seen supporting Tim in his ‘grief fueled madness’ then the Justice league will try to interfere in Gotham. And Gotham is built different. The Justice League do not understand Gotham and Cannot be allowed to interfere. Bruce would not want that. 

So Batman cannot be seen supporting Tim. Even if Dick believes him.  

They talk about Jason, who once Got Gotham the best out of any of them…but between his death and rebirth, the Pits, and his time away between Assassin training and the Outlaws he does not remember Gotham the way he thinks he does (shown by how he has forgotten that Batman cannot ever kill, that it is not Bruce that put that rule in place but Gotham herself). Gotham is still inscribed upon Jason’s bones though. He can heal enough to remember, to Get Gotham once again but it will take time. Alfred thinks that if Jason could remain on Gotham soil for three more consecutive months he would remember enough to stay until he healed all the way. Until then, though, they cannot fully trust him. 

They also talk about Damian. How Damian is not connected to Gotham, not yet. Maybe if he had been there longer, he could have truly ‘Got’ Gotham before becoming Robin. But they do not have time for that. Tim points out that Damian would not accept Robin if he thinks Tim is giving it to him, but he would if Damian thought he was beating Tim in some way to get it. They saw that through the murder attempts (Which are not taken as seriously one would think. It’s not that the Bats and Birds believe that Gotham would keep them alive no matter what…but…it does always seem as though everything works out, no matter the odds. And Jason didn’t die until he was not on Gotham soil and eventually came back after being buried in Gotham-No one really knows how Jason was brought back, not for sure). 

So Tim, Dick, Alfred, and Babs construct a very careful play. One devised to slip Damian into the Robin role, where he could grow connected to Gotham. One that gave Tim a reason to slip away, be gone so he could get proof that Bruce was still alive (because they would need the Justice Leagues resources). And all 4 sitting at the table were desperately trying to ignore that Tim had to leave Gotham, without backup, at least in the beginning (hoping that Jason would remember enough to be true backup later). Trying to ignore that the last time a Bat left Gotham without any kind of backup ended with Jason’s death.  And Yes, Tim would always have Oracle in his ear but only on the unofficial channels that do not go anywhere near the JLA systems, but that is not the same as having actual backup. 

And so time rolls on. Tim goes to search for Bruce, draws the attention of Ra’s Al Ghul, and does what was needed.  Damian grows into Robin, and begins to get it, to get Gotham (One day, about 2 months before Tim returns, Damian turns to Dick and goes ‘Drake will succeed, right?’ without any context and Dick knew Damian finally Got Gotham).  Jason did not spend the three consecutive months in Gotham until just before Bruce was brought back. 

When Tim is vindicated by the JLA, he finds Bruce. Every non Bat (and to a small, and shrinking extent, Jason) expects Tim to be petty and pissy with Dick.Even after Dicks catch. Except that does not happen.  Tim is pissy and petty with various members of the Justice League but not Dick (whom they think tried/threatened to throw Tim into Arkham-they have that on video).