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shivunin · 1 day ago

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Breath and Bone

After Rook is injured in the Crossroads, a spell gone wrong makes the injury dramatically worse. With Rook unconscious, Lucanis must help her reach the Lighthouse and safety.

(Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook Ingellvar | 6,360 Words | AO3 Link | CW: broken bones, implied past child abuse)

“It's never enough being one. Why do I hope to contain you: always undoing and undone; every place you touch me changes shape.” —Robert Fanning, “Song of the Shore to the Sea”

“Nice one, Rook!” Lucanis shouted from the other side of the clearing.

Rook, stepping back from the fresh corpse she’d just driven her spellblade into, did not have the breath to respond. The Crossroads was a dizzy thing, ridden with a resonant hum. When she fought here, she could feel it all through her, as if the place was singing in her bones. It was easy to get lost in that rhythm. It was especially easy when she was fighting like this, Venatori swinging blades everywhere she turned, no space at all to breathe or strategize.

A missile hissed as it passed her, and Lenore summoned a barrier just as a second might have hit. Somewhere behind her, Bellara shouted something she couldn’t hear. Days like this invigorated some of the others, she knew. After battle, Taash or Davrin seemed energized, as if the adrenaline rush of combat clung to them a little longer than the act itself.

It wasn’t like that for Lenore. Death was a familiar friend; killing was an entirely different creature. She had long since accepted its necessity. That didn’t mean she loved the fight. Quite the contrary, in fact. If there had been any other path for them, she would have taken it a hundred times over by now.

She ducked nimbly, drawing a miasma of death from the ground to drive the nearest foes back. They choked and gagged at its touch, so familiar to Lenore, and staggered away from her.

The field had been whittled down somewhat. As she watched, Bellara waved her arms to draw the attention of an assailant. When the warrior turned to fight her, Lucanis appeared behind him as if from the air itself and drove a blade neatly between his ribs.

This! This was what she’d been working toward! It was so heartening to see that their group combat practices were paying off, that their techniques and strategies were interlocking so effectively. She would have to bring this up to both of them later, because it deserved to be pointed out. She would—

Something struck her leg, midway between her knee and her ankle. There was an ominous crack somewhere in that region and an answering swell of pain. She’d made the first, most basic mistake in combat and taken her attention from her enemies. Luckily for her—for all of them—her instincts had been honed by the constant fighting, too, and she reacted without thinking. Lightning arced from her hand and spread, striking the one who’d hit her and spreading to the two behind him. One toppled immediately, arms splayed, eyes hollow. The other shook, caught in place as the power coursed through them, and crumpled to the ground a moment later.

“Nice try, filth,” said the one before her, and swung his blade at her again.

Not good. She could barely put weight on her leg, which would dramatically hinder her maneuverability. The pain was getting to her already, crawling from her leg to her chest and choking her lungs. She couldn’t think straight; needed to do something to fend him off. Something—

He swung again, and her shield flickered into existence just before the blade would have connected with her forehead. Her reserves had been drained by the lightning, and they drained further as he added a second hand to the hilt of the blade to bear down on her.

Lenore gritted her teeth. Her head felt fuzzy, her face clammy. She hadn’t the strength to hold him off now. She barely had the breath to hiss between her teeth, let alone call out to one of the others for help. Healing magic was out of the question—she’d never had the knack of it.

None of them could heal, really; up to now, they’d mostly been working around this with potions. Not for the first time, she wished she’d formed the sort of bond with a spirit that might’ve given her this skill. Alas, her talents lay elsewhere—her hands had always been for death, never life.

Wait. There was an idea.

In the Necropolis, inhabited skeletons often encountered the sort of damage that cracked a bone or two. There were spells to mend them when this sort of thing occurred, and materials to patch missing pieces if necessary. She’d learned those spells when she’d been an apprentice, but hadn’t needed to call upon the knowledge in years.

Her bones were still covered in living tissue. It would be risky to try this herself, but she had little choice. In a moment, he’d break through her barrier. If she could just remember—

“Give in to me,” the Venatori demanded. “Kneel!”

Lenore panted with effort and dragged the words from her memory. The shield dimmed around her, bright where it touched the blade and nearly insubstantial everywhere else. She had so little energy left. This would take most of it; she’d only have one shot at patching herself up. She had to make it count.

“Rook’s hurting!” Bellara yelled somewhere beyond her.

Rook tensed, sucked in a breath, and spoke the words of the spell. Several things happened in quick succession:

Devoid of the power it took to sustain it, her shield faltered and the sword broke through. Lenore ducked to her right, taking her weight off her injured leg, and hammered the base of her staff into the Venatori’s throat.

As she moved, the spell took effect. Pain swelled within her and broke like a wave, the bone in her leg mending itself over and over again until it had multiplied itself enough to break through the skin. She screamed without knowing it, without really hearing it, as if the pain itself made a tunnel from her leg to her throat and poured itself forth from there.

Bolts laden with electricity shot from somewhere in the distance, hammering into the unbalanced Venatori’s back. He stumbled, nearly tripping over one of the many spurs of bone now projecting from Rook’s leg.

“Rook,” Lucanis shouted from what seemed like a great distance, “hold on!”

She’d no idea what she could possibly be holding on to when the whole world was shuddering like a freshly reanimated corpse, but she tried anyway. She must have fallen at some point in the chaos because her hands scrabbled at stone and dirt now, not thin air. If her leg hadn’t hurt so badly that it eclipsed all other feeling, her head and tailbone would no doubt be aching from the impact.

The Venatori, now bleeding profusely, staggered to his feet. Behind him, a violet blur felled first one, then another of the remaining Venatori who stood between Lucanis and Rook. There were few of them left, which was probably good. It still wouldn’t save her if she fell to this one right now.

Her staff had fallen behind her. Rook dragged herself backward, scrambling for it. Her hands were slick with something and they moved slower than they should, as if the air itself was more viscous than it ought to be. Every time she tried to grasp the smooth wood, it slid away from her. A flash of teal and brown flickered at the corner of her eye: Bellara was running toward her from the other side of the clearing. Even as she identified her friend, another Venatori darted into Bellara’s path and blocked her from view.

Only five left now. If she just held out—

The violet blur spread tenebrous wings and shot closer, impossibly fast. Fast enough? It was hard to say. Everything looked—felt—so very strange. Her head pulsed in time with the wound in her leg. The Venatori lifted his sword and swung, a blow that would connect precisely with her breastbone. At last, at last, her hand wrapped around the polished wood of her staff, though it fought to slip from her grasp.

Unbidden, her mind began to recite, in clinical and removed tones, precisely what would happen to her body when the blow connected: if her sternum did not collapse, one of the sternocostal joints would. The force of the blow would penetrate her chest, likely striking her heart. If it did not, it would certainly rupture the pleural cavity and steal her breath away. The latter would not kill her immediately. She’d tended plenty of corpses that’d taken at least one more blow to die after this precise strike. If she hung on for long enough, one of the potions the others carried could still heal her. If not…

If not, she’d already shown Emmrich exactly where she wanted to be buried.

Behind the Venatori, Lucanis—or maybe Spite—struck down two more Venatori; they fell before him like sheaves of wheat before the scythe. She might be impressed at his accuracy and speed if she weren’t possessed by mortal terror. Perhaps Emmrich would be able to coax that thought from her corpse after she—after—

The blade whistled through the air, a silver gleam meant for her heart. At that precise moment, Lenore finally grasped her staff and summoned another barrier. It failed almost immediately, but held just long enough to arrest the sword’s motion in midair. The Venatori grunted and lifted the sword again.

This had to be it; she had nothing left, not even a drop of magic. Rook took the staff in both hands (it was so heavy; so heavy that she almost couldn’t lift it, though she’d been wielding it for months now) and held it over her chest. It was a poor shield, especially when she was shaking so hard she could barely see straight, but it was better than giving up entirely.

“For Razi—” the Venatori began, but the word was cut off abruptly.

Between one blink and the next, the air was filled with that purple glow, illuminating her attacker from behind. Even now, Rook held her staff in shaking hands, warding as best she could against whatever blow may yet come. It wasn’t necessary; already, blood trickled from her attacker’s mouth, still open to speak a syllable that would never come.

When his body dropped, it fell to the side and away from Lenore. Lucanis stood behind him, his face like stone. Spite’s wings spread from his back. His knife dripped blood onto Rook’s boot. She looked at that instead of her—instead of the bones branching above it.

There was no clever comment, no regards from the Crows. Instead, his eyes held hers.

“Can you walk?” Lucanis asked, eyes gleaming with the telltale sign of Spite’s ascendance though it was undeniably his voice she heard.

“No,” she managed through gritted teeth.

Behind him, Bellara shouted as the last of the Venatori fell. Lucanis must have seen her leg by now; his face grew more grim, eyes pinched at the corners. She could hardly look at it herself, though she could see the jagged, pale sections from the corner of her eye.

Lucanis stepped closer and crouched, neatly blocking her view of whatever she’d done to herself. Without meaning to, she reached for his elbow and squeezed, far harder than she would have under any other circumstances. She couldn’t have said what kind of comfort she sought then; there was nothing he could do for her and both of them knew it, though he was already reaching for the vial at his belt.

“Bad idea,” she told him, lifting a hand to clear the sweat from her brow and realizing at the last minute that mud, blood, and something green dripped from her hand. She used her elbow instead, though it wasn’t much cleaner. When she drew her arm away, new red streaked over the fabric.

“Why?” Lucanis asked. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and lifted it to her forehead, carefully dabbing at something there. His face was so very grim. She did not like it; did not like that she was the cause.

“What I did—” gorge rose at the back of her throat. Lenore swallowed and tried again. “Healing is the problem. It might make it worse. Unless you’ve got something for—for pain or sleep…”

“No,” he told her, tucking the vial away. “Only this. Can you bear it until we reach the Lighthouse?”

“Don’t have much choice,” she said. Bellara rushed into view, face already paler than usual.

“Rook, that looks really bad,” she said. “What can I—is there anything I can do?”

Lucanis rested his hand over Rook’s at his elbow and looked up at Bellara.

“I am going to carry her back. Can you find something to keep her leg stable?”

“I—yeah. Yes. Give me just—give me a few minutes. I have an idea.”

Bellara darted off again, flitting from body to body. After a moment, she perched near the collapsed pile of metal that’d once been a guardian of the crossroads. Something pulled Rook’s attention to a pile of rock floating past and she watched its slow, gentle path across the sky. It was not engrossing; it was something she had seen dozens of times by now. Nonetheless, she could not look away. For a moment, every other sound was drowned out by the rush of her blood in her ears.

“Rook?” Lucanis said. “Rook. Can you hear me?”

It took some effort to unclench her teeth. Lenore nodded instead, turning her head to look at him. He’d leaned closer while she’d been distracted. He reached for her hand now, apparently unbothered by the muck still caking her palms.

“Hold on,” he said. “As tight as you need to. I am here. I will stay.”

At last, she managed to part her lips. Her mouth was dry, but she didn’t dare reach for her waterskin. Any movement felt like it could upset the delicate balance she was maintaining. An ounce more pain and she would be lost.

“I will pass out,” she told him as clearly as she could manage.

His hand tightened around hers—surprising, since she had his hand in a vice grip and couldn’t seem to unclench her fingers. She hadn’t expected him to hold her back. Sweat dripped into her eyes, stinging as she blinked it away.

“When you lift me,” she clarified. “It’s—going to jostle the–the wound. I won’t be awake. That’s good. You can move faster if you aren’t worrying about my comfort.”

“I understand,” Lucanis said. “Don’t try to talk. Rest now; we will do what we can.”

“Stupid,” she told him, and took in a shaky breath. Bellara was moving toward them again, something golden in her hands. “My fault.”

“Leave it,” he told her. “You can blame yourself later.”

“Got it,” Bellara said, skidding to a halt beside them. “This will hold your legs in place. There’s a bit that should keep anything from hitting the, um—pieces directly. I’m going to put this on now, okay?”

“Wait,” Rook said. The adrenaline was wearing off; she was thinking less and less clearly, the pain echoing and magnifying with each passing moment. “Tell—tell Emmrich—the spell is the one for—for mending bone. He’ll know—so stupid, tell him I’m sorry—”

“I’ll tell him, I promise,” Bellara said, her voice soothing. Briefly, she rested a hand on Lenore’s shoulder. “I’m putting the brace on now, alright? I’ll be as quick as I can.”

She couldn’t help the noise she made when Bellara reached under her leg to fasten the brace. Without thinking, she turned and pressed her face against Lucanis’s knee to muffle the cries, uncomfortable as it was. All the while, his grip on her hand held steady.

“I know, I know, I know,” Bellara chanted, her voice strained. “Almost done, just a little more—sorry!—almo—”

Between one syllable and the next, the universe blinked.

Now, the wind rushed through her hair. They were no longer in the same clearing. Instead, the Crossroads sped past on either side. The ache in her leg had intensified, though she could feel from the tight band around her thigh that the splint was still in place.

“How close?” Lucanis asked.

“We approach the requested destination, Dweller,” the serene voice of the Caretaker responded.

Warm leather curled more tightly around her shoulders and the scene resolved itself into something that made sense. Lucanis held her at the prow of the rowboat, one foot braced on the bench before them. She turned her head to see him better and found him examining her already, his face solemn.

Something about his chest looked odd, but it took her a moment to place it: he’d removed the blade and all the vials from his armor there. Why? Nothing made sense.

“I’m sorry,” she told him, and his brow furrowed.

“For what, Rook?”

What could she say? She turned her face into his chest instead, closing her eyes for a moment. It would be easier, she decided, if the world would just stop spinning.

“It was a stupid mistake,” she mumbled against his chest.

“You’ve said that,” he told her. “More than once. I will tell you again what you told me after Weisshaupt: we all make mistakes, Rook.”

She tried to hold onto his words, but they scattered to the winds. His grip on her shifted slightly, his hand curling around her shoulder.

“Look at me, Rook. You have to stay awake. You have a concussion. That’s why you aren’t thinking clearly.”

Staying awake was a singularly unattractive prospect. Everything hurt; the dizziness was only getting worse and she’d made the mistake of looking at her leg again. Just the sight of it, bone jutting from her leg in three directions and curling in on itself like the horns of a halla, was enough to make her stomach lurch again.

“I’m sorry,” she told him.

Through his armor, she could hear his heartbeat. 1, 2, 3, she counted, 1, 2, 3—like a waltz, played in double time. She couldn’t remember why she was apologizing. Had she played a waltz for him before? She’d played for him—for all of them—but she couldn’t remember—

“I’m sorry,” she told Lucanis again, and the grim lines branching from the corners of his eyes deepened. She wanted him to never let go of her; when she turned her face into him again, the world felt quieter.

“Don’t apologize to me, Rook,” he said, and the universe blinked again.

It was quiet in Rook’s room, for which Lucanis was grateful. There had been far too much noise in the infirmary from when he’d carried her there to when Taash had brought her here. Neve’s sleeping spell yet held her; Rook’s face was still, though the space between her eyebrows remained faintly creased. If the spell had not failed when Taash had rebroken her leg and Davrin had set it, Lucanis did not think it would break in the face of too much noise. Even so, he was relieved that she was here, in her own space, and that the others had gone away for a time.

“Why does she still sleep? Wake her up,” Spite said from the head of the settee she slept on, peering down at Rook’s drawn face.

“Waking will hurt her,” Lucanis told him. “Her leg is still broken.”

“Then fix it, if it’s broken,” Spite said.

Lucanis ignored the demon and leaned forward, glancing at Rook’s leg. The cold spell had reduced some of the swelling, though it was still visible under the second brace Bellara had brought her. The damage was clear beneath the metal and leather: her skin gone red and purple around the break, sliced to ribbons where the new growth had speared through it, dried blood still caked in the creases of her ankle where Lace hadn’t quite washed all of it away.

Like most Crows, his knowledge of healing was limited to the most basic necessities. In a fight, it was better to remove your opponent from the battle than to stop moving and patch up your fellows. He had studied certain medical writings in training, but only to better identify the weak points of his opponents. At most, he might’ve been able to bandage her wound long enough to get to safety, or perhaps offer one of the potions he kept on hand. In this—the bone jutting from her skin, the way she’d cried out when he’d lifted her from the ground, the tear tracks still visible on her cheeks now—in this, he’d been of no use at all.

Even now, he was not entirely sure what she’d tried to do. Emmrich’s explanation had mostly been different versions of a horrified “why that spell” or “what an incredibly inadvisable course of action.” Lucanis had not disagreed with either statement, but he had not found them especially enlightening either. The necromancer had undone her spell, at least. He was glad of that.

“She smells all wrong,” Spite said, still peering at Rook. “All wrong.”

All the long way back to the Lighthouse, Spite had been uncharacteristically helpful. He had slipped beneath Lucanis’s skin seamlessly, as he once had in the early days in the Ossuary. He had done nothing but help speed them along, pushing their body faster than Lucanis might have been able to alone. It had seemed that they were, for once, of one mind, one mission: bring Rook somewhere safe and get her the help she needed. Everything else had been peripheral.

It was…quiet now that the others were gone. This was a relief. It also meant he had far too much time to think. He might almost—almost—be grateful for the distraction Spite provided now. Whenever he turned to look at the fish, the water behind him, his stomach turned and his hands shook. As long as he faced forward, he could still pretend to ignore it.

“Wrong,” Spite repeated. “Blood and elfroot and pain. Not like Rook.”

Lucanis sighed. He had not enjoyed carrying her back, though he would do it a hundred times over if she ever had need of such assistance again. It had been a fraught thing, willing her eyes to open again even though she would go on apologizing to him every time they did. He had a great deal of experience trying to hold still, but it had been worse to know that every involuntary shift of his body had caused hers pain.

He had not liked carrying her, but it had been—he had felt—something to hold her pressed against him, to wrap her in his arms. She had clutched him to her, hands snarled in the belts at his chest, face pressed into his body. He had wished, on that long ride back, that he could curl himself around her and shield her from what she’d done, though it was a useless impulse.

Useless and foreign besides; he had never felt such a thing before and did not know what to do with it now that he had.

Now, his hand rested beside hers on the bed, close enough that he could feel the faint movements of her body when she breathed in and out. When Emmrich had finally deemed it safe, Lucanis had administered the healing potion to her himself. He’d slid a hand under her neck to tip her head back and ease its passage into her throat. Though he was no longer touching her, he could still feel the memory of the softness of her skin against his palm.

Once, he had watched Rook tune her violin on one of the balconies outside the main tower. She’d struck a tuning fork against her knuckles and held it between two elegant fingertips, eyes closed to listen. The tone had spilled out into the air long after she’d touched it, humming until she finally set it aside to turn the small knobs at the top of her instrument.

Lucanis supposed he did not feel so very different than that tuning fork now. The touch of her skin still hummed inside him, though he had long since let go. He could not help wondering if he should reach for her hand now, if only to still that hum.

“She needs to rest and heal. Then, she will smell like herself,” he told Spite.

Spite crouched, his nose an inch from Rook’s. Slowly, Lucanis’s smallest finger brushed against Rook’s.

“She should smell of incense,” Spite told her, as if to remind her. “Leaf-rot. Rosemary. The rest is wrong.”

“She doesn’t smell like rotting leaves,” Lucanis said, as he had a dozen times before. Spite bared his teeth. “I don’t know why you always say that.”

“You’re wrong. She smells of sweet rot. Always. Only Rook ever does.”

What use was there in arguing? It hadn’t swayed the demon yet, though they’d had this argument more than once. Lucanis shifted in his chair and found his hand resting against Rook’s. Should he let go? Leave? Work on finding a healer in Treviso they could bring her to?

Her hand was so still, soft and cool in his.

When he had been a boy, there had been an illness (he could not recall what it had been; a fever, perhaps) and a dark room, bed hung with dark cloth. It had not been in Villa Dellamorte, but the home his parents kept. It had been—warmer, he thought. Less marble, more carved wood. One night, Lucanis had lain in the dark, ill and horribly lonely, and he had woken to find his father’s hand in his. What a comfort it had been, to know that he was not alone in the dark with his pain.

Lucanis ignored Spite and curled his fingers around Rook’s. There were calluses on odd places near the first joints of her fingers. Musical in origin, he supposed, not caused by her staff. He had not seen them before, but now he could feel scars across her palms, across the backs of her hands. Where had she gotten them? He wondered if she would answer, should he ask.

It had seemed…foolish, potentially dangerous to hold her hand in most of the places they’d visited. What if one of them needed to draw a weapon? Precious seconds might be wasted in untangling themselves from each other. Beyond that, she would be a target if anyone knew that he wanted—that he thought—

“You will make sure she’s fixed,” Spite said, voice abruptly louder, and he leaned across the bed to put his face near Lucanis’s. “She won’t stay like this. It isn’t right.”

“Yes,” Lucanis agreed. “Neve is looking for a healer who can help. Emmrich has already undone the worst of whatever she did to her leg.”

Spite had been with Lucanis for more days than he’d been able to count, but he still had difficulty reading the demon’s expressions. He did not even know if they were facial expressions or if that was just how his mind interpreted Spite’s existence. On someone else, he might have thought the narrowed eyes and sneer meant displeasure. On Spite, it must have been approval instead because the demon winked out of existence a moment later. It was a relief when he was gone, as if some imperceptible background noise he never really heard had finally ceased.

“Don’t worry,” Lucanis told Rook in the ensuing silence. “The others will find somebody to help. I’ll wait with you until they do. It’s not like I was sleeping anyway.”

She would have laughed at that. She liked to laugh, his—Rook liked to laugh.

Her hand didn’t move in his. Still, he did not think he was imagining the growing warmth in her palm. Lucanis reached for the cup of coffee he’d set aside and sipped it without letting go of her. Whatever came next, he would be there.

Even if nobody else had heard it, he’d made her a promise.

The first thing Lenore felt when she woke was the warmth wrapped around her hand.

Pain followed quickly, but she’d been braced for that. She had not been braced for comfort and was less sure about what to do with it.

“You’re awake,” Spite said, and Rook opened her eyes to look at him.

The demon sat in a chair beside her bed, one foot propped on the seat while the other rested on the ground. He was the one holding her hand, of course.

“I am,” she answered, studying him. “Did Lucanis fall asleep there or did you walk him here?”

Not what she was asking, really. What she meant was, which one of you decided to wait beside me while I was out? It would have been harder to ask that; harder still to admit to him how much she wanted to know. Better to sidestep it entirely.

“Here,” Spite replied. “He promised. To stay.”

“And you didn’t want to make a run for it while everyone was distracted?”

The ache in her leg was…significant, but better than she remembered in her awful, cluttered recollection of the moments following her injury. A cautious glance downward revealed only the usual quantity of bones. Nothing twisted past her shin, bones projecting outward and curling around each other like halla horns. She almost wished she believed in a god so she could thank them.

“He promised,” Spite replied, as if it was the obvious answer.

“Does Lucanis know that you keep his promises?” she asked, smiling at him.

Spite smiled back slowly, each side of the mouth creeping up in turn, as if testing himself to see if he could.

“No,” he said. “Are you. Fixed?”

Mentally, she felt along her body. Her head felt better, she thought, though her leg was a miserable tangle of pain. The rest of her was stiff, as if she’d been lying still for a very long time.

“Not all the way. Something still hurts down there. But better than earlier, yes.”

“Good. Your pain. Was wrong.”

Wrong?

“Did it bother you to carry me around?”

Rook thought to push herself up, try to sit, but thought better of it. She’d have to let go of his hand if she wanted to move and it hardly seemed worth it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had held her hand. Actually—now that she was thinking about it, she couldn’t remember a time when anyone living had held her hand for longer than the time it took to lead her where she was supposed to be.

“No,” Spite replied at once, and looked as if he would go on. Abruptly, his face went blank and Lucanis blinked himself awake.

“Rook,” he said. “You’re awake.”

“So are you,” she said.

Now that she was awake, he would take his hand away. She was certain of it. She held very still so he wouldn’t notice that they were still holding onto each other.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. His forehead creased as he leaned closer, shifting until both feet rested firmly on the ground.

“I’ve been better,” she said, but he did not laugh. “Feeling a little stupid. I feel like I should apol—”

“Don’t, Rook,” Lucanis said, lifting the hand that wasn’t holding hers as if to halt the words. “I think you’ve apologized enough. If I never hear you say ‘I’m sorry’ again, it will be too soon.”

“Did I? I don’t remember that.”

“Hm,” Lucanis said, the corner of his mouth twitching. Some strong emotion suppressed; not a smile, she thought. “Emmrich called it…perseveration. He said that those with head wounds often repeat phrases or thoughts, and you’d happened to choose that one.”

“You disagree?” Lenore asked.

His thumb traced something on the back of her hand, slow and soft. She repressed a shiver at the sensation—so comfortable, so easy. It was like they touched each other casually all the time, which they certainly did not. He had made his interest clear—clear enough for her, at least—and yet they had still remained largely hands-off until now.

“These marks on your hands,” he said, and paused. “I have seen others like them.”

“Have you?”

The urge to snatch hers back and hide it under the blankets was immediate, the effort to ignore it not inconsiderable. Lucanis lifted his own hand, angling it so the light shone over the scar tissue there, criss-crossing his knuckles and the back of his hand in straight, silvery lines. Thicker than the ones on the backs of her hands, yes, but mostly the same.

“You are not a Crow,” he said. “You were not trained the way I was. Emmrich’s hands are largely unscarred. Those are very old—before you left the Necropolis.”

“Correct on all counts,” Lenore told him, and turned their hands so hers was pressed against the blanket and out of sight.

He watched her for a moment, free hand settling slowly on the cot beside her leg. She wondered what he’d read in her face. She wondered what he wasn’t saying nearly as much as she hoped he wouldn’t keep talking about it.

“You do not have to apologize to me,” he said at last. “I was glad that I was the one with you when you fell.”

“You shouldn’t have had to carry me back,” she told him firmly, shifting her weight onto her elbow. Her grip tightened on his hand. “I’m meant to look after myself better than that. I should’ve—”

“Stop,” Lucanis said, squeezing her hand in turn. “Stop. I would do it again.”

He was so very close—she hadn’t noticed him getting closer—and she still felt so awful, so grateful, and his hand was so warm in hers—

“Lucanis,” she murmured, as if speaking too loud would ruin something precious and fragile, “I think I’m going to kiss you.”

Lenore hadn’t been touched or held in so long. She had almost—almost—convinced herself that this didn’t bother her, that she didn’t care. She’d been wrong, though; she cared a great deal. Cared like a plant cared for watering, like strings longed for a bow. Before she could change her mind or retreat from him again, she was lifting her face to his and kissing him.

Lucanis could count on one hand the number of times he had kissed somebody, and nearly all of them had been in the process of completing a contract or training for the same. They’d all been more or less the same to him, the experiences blurring together into the same dull sensation, all duty and never desire.

This—Rook’s face upturned, her soft mouth pressed to his—was like none of those other times. He hardly had time to recover from the shock of it before she was pulling away again, eyes searching his face. Too fast; not enough time to understand. He needed more.

On instinct, he reached behind her and cupped the back of her neck as he had before, carefully pressing her close to him once more. Her lips were soft and surprised under his, as if she had expected him to pull away. When he kissed her, she made a surprised sound and squeezed his hand.

Had he worried that it was Spite, not Lucanis, who wanted to kiss her? Had he somehow believed that touching her would quiet the hum of fascination under his skin? All ridiculous, all incorrect; this was something entirely different. His hand fit at the back of her neck perfectly, as if it had been shaped precisely for this. He was barely kissing her, but the faint pressure of his mouth against his was almost overwhelming. He was already touching her, already holding her to him, and yet he was hungry for exactly that—as if the touch by its very existence required more of itself, required more of him.

Too much. He withdrew, though he didn’t let go of her yet, and found her eyes still closed, her lips softly parted.

What was he to do with this? He wanted to press his thumb to the pulse beating at her throat, wanted to lift her from the bed and hold her again, wanted to kiss the hand he held in his until—until what?

“You should rest,” Lucanis told her, his voice so quiet he found himself surprised he’d said it aloud at all.

Rook nodded once, eyes still closed, and pressed her lips together. When she moved, he could feel the shift of her spine under her skin. Would it feel the same if he held her hand while she moved, while she played her music for him, when she drew magic from the Fade? Would it feel the same with his hands around her hips, or her—

The thought was strange enough, foreign enough, that he let go and climbed to his feet. For a moment, Rook held very still, face still tilted. Lucanis took a step back, lest his hands betray him and reach for her again.

“You’re still healing,” he told her, and took another step back when her eyes fluttered open. Her eyelashes were so fine against her skin, her eyes so warm and soft in the pale light of the water. He wanted to look closer. Instead, he stepped back again and wished he had something to do with his hands. Anything that would remove the sensation of her hand in his, her mouth so sweet against his.

“I’ll check on you later,” he went on. “Somebody needs to start dinner, and a note from Teia and Viago arrived while you slept.”

“Lucanis,” she said, her voice soft and quiet. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Thank you. For staying, I mean. Both of you.”

“Of course, Rook. Anytime,” he said, and slipped from the room before she could take him up on the offer.

“Coward,” Spite hissed.

Lucanis, striding briskly away from the door so he would not turn around and open it again, found he could not disagree.

#lenore ingellvar #lucanis dellamorte #da fanfic #rookanis #lucanis x rook #rook x lucanis #dav #dav spoilers #veilguard #rook ingellvar #lucanore #shivunin scrivening #they actually kiss in this one c:

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beneathsilverstars · 2 days ago

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I’m curious if you have any ideas about when/if bonnie finds out the complete truth about what happened to siffrin…

I know the Adult perspective is “bonnie is a kid let’s keep this very upsetting thing secret until they’re in a more stable place” but as an angst writer this feels like the biggest chekhov’s gun ready to go off lmao

I feel like it’d probably come out sometime after siffrin and loop reveal they’re the same person… my writer brain is saying Loop throws it at Siffrin during an argument not realizing Bonnie is present (or saying it too impulsively to check themself)

Siffrin: Oh, that’s rich coming from the person who tried to kill me

Loop: It’s not like you’ve got room to talk when you tried to kill yourself first!

(also speaking of which the parallel in this AU of trying to kill Siffrin being what leads to both Siffrin AND Loop staying with the party is very funny to me. poetic of course but also. fella where if you try to kill them you get a happy ending /j)

Okay, so. In canon, Bonnie is already upset with Siffrin for getting his eye hurt protecting them. They feel guilty because it was for their sake; worried about how Siffrin will heal and cope; betrayed because Siffrin is supposed to be cool and strong, but turns out he’s not strong enough to prevent tragedy; scared because what if something even worse happens next time. So they take it all out as anger at Siffrin. How dare he act like this thing that upsets Bonnie so much isn’t a big deal? How dare he not be concerned about his own health and safety? He shouldn’t care about Bonnie, that’s what got him hurt. And Bonnie shouldn’t care about him, that’s what’s hurting them.

Then, in this AU, the half-truth that Bonnie is told can actually sort of fold into that same narrative! So it’s not a new upset so much as it is more of the same. The first hour or two of waiting was horrible of course, but since Bonnie didn’t see or know how bad it really was, once they hear that Siffrin is all healed up they can assume it wasn’t a big deal and they were all worried for nothing. So they’re relieved, and mad at him for scaring them. Then they get the story, and ughg of course Siffrin wasn’t being careful, he never is!! Siffrin you crab you have to care about yourself too!!

While everyone else is feeling guilty about not noticing or saying something sooner, I think to Bonnie this would be a much clearer case of being Siffrin’s fault (vs the eye thing that they feel personally guilty about), which ironically makes them less upset at him. Less complicated situation, less bad feelings, less need to take it out on someone.

And they’ve been given clear instructions on how to help, in a way that’s very straightforward and positive? With the eye, Siffrin would’ve been trying so hard to avoid help in order to prove themself still strong and useful. Any help directly related to the loss of vision just reminds everyone involved that hey, Siffrin is disabled now, which Siffrin and Bonnie both hate to think about. But with this AU's incident there’s not the same kind of issue! Reminding Siffrin that their friends care about them and want to stay with them is pleasant for everyone! Especially from Bonnie — Siffrin feels guilty for "misleading" everyone else, but Bonnie doesn't know the full story and they're a kid, of course they're being genuine.

And with the eye, everyone else would’ve agreed that Siffrin did the right thing by protecting Bonnie. Oh, if only we'd avoided the situation altogether, etc, but once the situation was there? Everyone else thinks it was tragic, but it was worth it, of course Bonnie's life is the most important. Which feels awful for Bonnie, like they’re the only who truly wishes it hadn't happened. But with this AU, everyone agrees that Siffrin shouldn’t have done that and everyone is addressing Siffrin’s disregard for his own safety. Vindication!! Of course the adults' reactions are more complicated then Bonnie's "Stop being stupid, stupid," but close enough in this way, especially since they don't discuss the more complicated bits around Bonnie.

So, even though the crisis itself was scary, and overall it’s another stressor, and the other adults are very worried which is worrying…. This incident is actually easier for Bonnie to process, in a way that helps settle their feelings about the eye, too!

But, that’s just with the half truth. Despite the careful attempt to tell Bonnie nearly everything, that last bit that was omitted would change the situation entirely.

To know that Siffrin would've died if Odile had arrived three seconds later? And to know that Siffrin did it on purpose? That's a level of betrayal that I don't know if they could come back from. That's one of Bonnie's favorite people that Siffrin was trying to kill!! For no reason!!! Worse, for a reason that could've been fixed in ten seconds of conversation! I think Bonnie knows a bit about mental health because there's no way Nille isn't dealing with some shit, and I think maybe they could understand a level of passive suicidal ideation as being a feeling caused by mental illness and circumstance rather than choice, but a suicide attempt is an action. It's Siffrin making a choice to take themself out of Bonnie's life in the most violent and upsetting way possible, and I don't know if they could forgive them for that, not for a long while at least.

So I was going to say I just couldn't let them find out the full truth. It's too much on top of too much.

Except... that's not actually the full truth, is it?

Siffrin feels guilty enough about letting everyone else "mistakenly" believe that he's suicidal. This whole journey, based on a lie, turned sour in his stomach but stars if he won't savor every drop anyway. It's better than the truth, right? Better than letting them know how many times he actually died, how many times he failed them? Definitely better than revealing the deception and being abandoned.

Better... until it isn't. Until Bonnie overhears a conversation between Mirabelle, Isabeau, and Odile — because Siffrin has learned the hard way that you can't be sure Bonnie isn't listening unless you're SURE, but no one else did because that snack break didn't happen like that in the last loop. And y'know what, let's throw Nille in too. Because this would definitely be at least a couple months post-Dormont. Maybe the conversation is even the others explaining the full story to Nille for the first time. Maybe Bonnie caught an "Okay, okay, we'll explain, but later," and resolved to be there for the later.

So Bonnie overhears, and they stay silent as they keep listening, hoping to hear an alternate theory, a haha just kidding, anything that would mean this might not be true. Until they finally can't take it anymore and they back away from the doorway, quiet and slow, until they're far enough that they can go faster, let their tears turn into sobs, let their sobs turn into rage, at Siffrin for betraying them like this, at everyone else for keeping it a secret. Siffrin is away from camp a bit, fishing or something, so Bonnie runs to find him and— and something— scream at him, hit him, say they'll never be friends again, do something with all this horror and fear, make Siffrin hurt instead since he's willing to hurt Bonnie so much, since he wants to be hurt so bad—

Once Bonnie has found them, it takes Siffrin a moment to figure out what's going on. Bonnie shouting through their sobs and weak, flailing punches, "I hate you," and "You did it on purpose, we were so worried but it was on purpose," and "You said you didn't want us to leave but you were going to leave, without even saying goodbye, before we even beat the king, you wanted to leave bad enough to DIE, you were going to LEAVE ME!!!"

And Siffrin deserves it, they know. They did let everyone worry on purpose. They trapped Bonnie in a time loop and let them die horribly in it, they should hate Siffrin. But Siffrin cannot let Bonnie believe that they would leave them like that. Nothing else matters — not how badly they don't want to talk about the loops, not how much everyone will hate them — anything else would be better than this. Siffrin has done so many things wrong, but they were all for love of their family, greedy, selfish, suffocating love, so if Bonnie's going to hate them either way, so be it, but Siffrin cannot let them think they don't love them.

So Siffrin tells Bonnie the truth. The true truth. It's difficult with both of them so upset, Bonnie not wanting to listen and not trusting anything he says, but Siffrin desperately explains that everyone else is wrong. Siffrin let them believe that's what happened, because he's selfish and terrible and he did want them to be worried about him, but they're wrong!! He wasn't trying to leave, he was trying to stay with them! Because— what he did— it wasn't going to kill him, it was just going to reset him— (never mind that he does die each time, that's not what matters right now)— because he made a wish to stay with everyone and it meant he couldn't die, it meant he could redo the House as many times as he needed to so everyone would get through safely! And any time something— something bad happened— if someone was.. going to get hurt— or if everyone was going to leave, it would just reset! And he would wake up in the meadow again, and try again! He was just trying to reset, so he could stay with them, he just wanted to stay with them, he trapped them all so he could stay with them, trapped them going through the House again, and again, and again—

And Siffrin kinda dissolves into incoherency at some point, because this is the first time they've talked about it with anyone other than Loop, and with Loop neither of them had to actually say what they were talking about. Not to mention this is them admitting the loops to their family. On top of, Bonnie hates them again. So! Siffrin's not doing too great.

And even given a calm and careful explanation, the time loop was canonically a little hard for Bonnie to wrap their head around, and this explanation was not calm and careful. However, it's enough. "They're wrong, I didn't do that, I let them think that but they're wrong" is easy enough to understand. And Bonnie doesn't need the full explanation in order to believe him, because they've wanted to believe the others were wrong since the moment they put together what they were overhearing.

So, okay. If Siffrin didn't try to kill themself, then Bonnie doesn't have to be mad at them right now. Obviously, in this case, their anger should go towards the people who got it wrong and made Bonnie all worried over nothing, again! Plus, Siffrin is freaking out, and Bonnie knows what to do when that happens: get Loop, because Loop usually knows the best way to help, along with someone else, because sometimes Loop makes it worse instead.

But Bonnie's got a bone to pick with everyone else (except Nille, but they selfishly want Nille with them), so Loop will have to manage on their own this time. Bonnie finds them, says Siffrin's freaking out really bad, Loop's like sighhh okay I'm on my way. Siffrin taken care of, Bonnie storms onwards to where the other adults were talking. They all freeze at the sight of them — still awake when they should've been sleeping, and frazzled and tear-streaked to boot.

And Bonnie announces, "You're WRONG. I talked to Siffrin and they said you're wrong, they weren't trying to kill themself, they were trying to stay! He just let you believe that because he wanted you to be worried!"

And, well. First of all, oh no, Bonnie heard. But second of all, Siffrin definitely just blatantly lied to Bonnie in an attempt to reassure them. Which... is understandable, but really just prolonging the painful inevitable at this point. Nille says "Bonnie," in that breaking-bad-news tone of voice, but Bonnie stomps their foot and says, "No! You're all wrong! Talk to them yourself, they said you're wrong!!!" and refuses to hear another word on it. So everyone's like well. I guess we're talking to Siffrin. The adults don't want to bring Bonnie, but Bonnie is adamant, and this topic does unfortunately involve them now. So they finally relent and say Bonnie can come with them for the beginning IF they promise to leave when asked; Bonnie agrees because it's better than nothing, and maybe they can pretend to leave but then eavesdrop some more, if it comes to that.

So they all set out to where Siffrin is. Aaand Siffrin is having a panic attack and Loop is not helping. At least they're not making it worse either...? They're just sitting there ignoring them. Everyone asks Loop what's up and Loop is like "Stardust is the one who decided to tell you, I'm not going to just steal their show <3" which. at least confirms that there is something major to be told...?

Soo the mystery is gonna have to wait a bit. Crowding him won't help so Mirabelle and Odile clear out, while Isabeau stays to help him calm down. It's kind of a toss-up whose presence will be most helpful, because depending on why Siffrin is panicking, sometimes one or the other being there will stress them out more, but it can be hard to predict because he won't explain why... But Isabeau's usually the safest bet and he's good at it, besides. Nille wants to bring Bonnie somewhere to talk but they refuse to talk about it until everyone else understands, and Nille admits it's not going to be very productive until they know what actually happened. But she does convince them to go make some tea and a snack. Loop stays, sitting a little bit away but glancing over at Siffrin every now and then, worried or annoyed or guilty or impatient or a lot of other things. Carefully not freaking out as well by reassuring themself that this is Siffrin's problem with Siffrin's party regarding Siffrin's loops and has nothing to do with Loop, really.

Eventually Siffrin calms down, still feeling guilty and miserable. They did something that upset Bonnie that much, and they lied to their family for months, and now they're gonna hate them. But at least they can breathe and think now and Isabeau is holding them for one more moment. Isabeau gently explains what Bonnie said, and that it makes sense to want to shield them but that ship has sailed, and they need to get this cleared up in order to help them. And Siffrin shakes their head and says, "I told Bonnie the truth."

Isabeau says, "Sif... Madame was very clear about what she saw. If she hadn't intervened, you would have died before Mira could get there. What else could it possibly be? If— Even if you did it hoping we'd stop you and worry about you and stay with you, it was still a suicide attempt." Siffrin protests, "No, I wouldn't, I wouldn't do that to you, even just letting you believe it was so— so selfish, I just didn't want you to hate me—" and Isabeau says "Okay, if you wouldn't do that to us, then what was it? What were you trying to do?"

Siffrin softly admits, "I was trying to loop back. If Odile hadn't stopped me, I— I wouldn't die die, I'd just loop. To... I don't remember. To the... Somewhere in the House..? I was... trying to loop forward to somewhere in the House..." At the word "loop" Isabeau glances to Loop, but they'd left, at some point. Siffrin's eyes start to go vague at the end, as they try to remember the House, and Isabeau rubs their arms to try and pull their attention back. He's halfway convinced at this point that Siffrin was having some kind of psychotic break that had them convinced that killing themself would result in something other than dying — which would make sense, as far as explanations go, but with how strange things have been with Siffrin, who knows? The answer could be something that makes much less sense. Whatever it is, he'll only know if Siffrin tells him about it, so he asks, "What do you mean, loop..?"

Stopping myself here from writing out the whole conversation lmao but it's slow and quiet and Siffrin has a hard time talking about it but they manage to get the basics across. They were in a time loop and one of the ways to reset it was dying and that's all they were trying to do, just reset. No one was supposed to see and even if they did it shouldn't have mattered, it would reset again sooner or later anyway. But they broke the loop, that time. So it stayed. And Odile saw it and Mirabelle had to heal them and Bonnie was so worried and they shouldn't have stayed in that loop they should've reset as soon as they got to the House but they didn't want to, they wanted to stay, it was so selfish, they wanted to stay in that horrible loop just because everyone agreed to travel together that time and it turns out that was it. That's what they needed to get out, because it's their fault they were trapped, they made the wish, they trapped everyone and wouldn't let them leave, and even after it was over they still wouldn't let go, they let everyone worry even though it wasn't true, and now— and now—

s. Stopping myself here for real this time. ANYWAYS Siffrin cries some but Isabeau manages to help them not go full panic again, and he says he'll talk to everyone else about it, and he brings them back to camp. Siffrin has a little tea and then falls asleep, so Isabeau gets him settled in his tent and then reconvenes with the others. He lets Bonnie stay as he explains what Siffrin said, and it sounds outlandish but so is Loop's existence and it does kind of explain some of the strange things they've noticed...? Odile is like oh, yeah. No yeah that explains most of it perfectly. Time travel was one of my leading theories for sure. Mirabelle's like ?? And you didn't tell us??? And Odile's like look I have a lot of theories. I can't tell everyone every theory I have. But she goes over her evidence and everyone is like wow. Yeah okay.

Bonnie is majorly flagging by now — though feeling quite vindicated — so Nille takes them to bed. Then Isabeau, Odile, and Mirabelle talk about the whole "looping by dying" part, because it's one thing for Bonnie who didn't see it to accept that whatever Siffrin did was simply meant to reset the loops, but everyone else can't forget exactly what it was. But there's not much to say, really... How many times did he die? How many times did he die that way? They don't know. Too many times, that's for sure. And there's... not really anything they can do about that that they haven't already been doing.

So! That's how everyone finds out the complete truth!

#retcon tiiime #loops reveal happening a lot earlier than I thought #😌#dagger ending au #isat #siffrin #bonnie #siffrin & bonnie #thoughts about bonnie #suicide mention #isat spoilers

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imaginespazzi · 1 day ago

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Alright so I slept on it, distracted myself and I have now cooled down considerably. Since I am no longer looking at the game through completely rage-filled glasses, I can vent coherent thoughts now.

LAYUPS

FUCKING LAYUPS

Listen losing games is always hard, but the sheer stupidity that lost us this game is hard to discern in words and really starts with layups. We make literally 3 more, and we would have won. The most simplest there is in basketball and we decided that we wanted to suck at it. And look you don't make every shot, of course you don't but HOW MANY FUCKING OPEN LAYUPS CAN A TEAM MISS?

Brief positive interlude, before I start yelling: KK ARNOLD I LOVE YOU. I am so proud of this girl. A true competitor from start to finish. Never fucking scared of the moment, always ready to do everything she can.

Aubrey Griffin is starting to look like herself again. She was so good last night and everything we're used to seeing. Just keep healing bbg, we're gonna need you real bad.

Sarah Strong, consistent queen as per always but she made that freshman mistake at the end and while it would be hypocritical not to acknowledge it, I really can't hold it against her because homegirl was the only starter locked in from start to finish and for some fucking reason we didn't go to her nearly enough in the second.

And now let's get to the venting

Jana El Alfy I cannot keep defending this. YOU ARE 6 FUCKING 5. Look I have had so much to say about her not getting the time she deserves but oh my fucking god, I don't know if I can defend this anymore. Missing easy ass layups, somehow letting people a feet shorter shoot over you like??? I cannot

Kaitlyn Chen girl what the fuck are you here for? Cardio. She pleasantly surprised for me exactly two games but nope, I was right the first time. There is absolutely no reason, other than a likely promise Geno made while recruiting her, for her to be starting over KK.

Ashlynn Shade, you are so lucky girlie that you play with Paige and Azzi and they also both had shitty as fuck nights that I will address in a second because girl, that's the only thing saving you from not being lashed out into oblivion on other social media sites right now. I have absolutely no idea she was ever in the game let alone how she was getting minutes over KK. Defense? Atrocious. Offense? MISSING WIDE OPEN LAYUPS AND THREES. No one pissed me off more this game than Ash because shit should've been easy for her and instead she missed every single chance she had.

Paige saw all those tweets manifesting her freshman year Tennessee performance by a bunch of people who don't know anything else about that game except for the magical shot at the end and voila, she performed exactly like that. Maybe worse. And don't worry friends, I'll be yelling at her coach in a second but the one thing I can't complain about today is that he didn't put the ball in her hands because he did and we saw it in the assists but she didn't play up to the mark at all. And for as much as her performance was a classic case of shots not falling, her shot selection was uncharacteristically bad last night.

Y'all know that look Paige talks about when it comes to Azzi? The soft one? I saw that look on her face immediately as soon as her first shot didn't go in. And I knew it especially when KC was wide open under the basket and Azzi somehow missed her, that she was most definitely in her head. But the worst thing is, that I actually think she almost got back in rhythm, almost got rid of that look, almost got out of her head, by the end of the 2nd with the sequence of FTs > deflection > 3 and then all of that went to shit because she picked up those two quick fouls. And then she never got back into it again, partially because of her own self, partially because this team still isn't doing enough to screen for her/run plays for her and partially because her coach was doing the most ridiculous subbing routine with her. Making her play the third with 3 fouls, then she finally hits a 3 at the end AND THAT'S WHEN HE BENCHES HER? Keeps her out of the game in first 5 minutes of the 4th, lets her lose any semblance of rhythm and then subs her in? I don't even know what to say.

Geno Auriemma WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU

This man had the audacity to sit in the press conference and blame every fucking thing on Paige when he, our hall of fucking fame coach, made the most costly mistake of this whole game with that dumb as fuck timeout. STUPID STUPID STUPID

And then of course the lineups and substitutions, ridiculous shit.

SIGH

The worst thing is, I don't think Tennessee beat us last night. We broke the press. We held them to 7-28 from 3. The boxscore has us beating them in so many places but at the end, we beat ourselves.

And it all comes down to the fact that maybe we just don't have the mentality.

Last night really drained a lot of optimism from me but these are my girls and the potential is infinite. I'm always gonna be rooting for them and little itty bitty hopeful part of me will always think we can win it all but I think, we're gonna need a lot of things to just miraculously go right.

#uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #wcbb #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #kaitlyn chen #jana el alfy #sarah strong #ashlynn shade #kk arnold #aubrey griffin #i actually have so much more to say but this got so long already lol

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crescenthistory · 3 days ago

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Helloooo mrs. carina!!!!! Hope you’re having the happiest of 2ks :))) I’ve been trying to summon up the best idea I could possibly think of these past few days for you and I’ve realized I have quite a dry imagination😭 but this is what I’ve thinked up

I’d like to request an analyze for Remus x ballerina reader… I think he especially would respect the control a ballerina would have over their body (not to be angsty but it would of course something he envies considering his situation)

mrs. carina?? thinking up creative ideas specifically for me??? oh darling you are the SWEETEST, thank you so much for this little gift<333 giving you a HUGE forehead smooch

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ANALYSE remus lupin x ballerina!reader

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: gn!reader, remus' mental health issues, implied reader mild mental health struggles, lycanthropy/chronic pain

remus lupin is a studious lover – once he falls for someone, he notices everything about them, down to the very details

with a ballerina!reader, this would include seeing ballet in everything they do

he is drawn to elegance and precision in an almost religious sense, viewing it as something holy and greater-than that he doesn't quite deserve to witness yet selfishly chooses to watch anyway

remus would notice how you flex your fingers a certain way, how you always position your feet as if you are about to dance

he sees the tension in your shoulders and thighs from practice, he sees how it went when you come back from it based on the minuscule tightenings around your lips and eyes

it would make him all the more infatuated

as if he is unearthing a treasure, peeling back the petals of a rose

remus in love always feels like he is holding something delicate and ballerina!reader would both prove him right and wrong

they would show him their elegance but also their inherent strength

he hates feeling as if he needs to be taken care of in any way, but butterflies would be going crazy in his stomach if you ever displayed that strength by opening a heavy door for him on a cane-day or by picking up the mountain of books from the library with ease

it is what would prompt him to start calling you dove – you're graceful and gorgeous, but highly intelligent and practical

there would definitely be a certain envy within remus regarding the precise control you exercised over your own body

not anything he held against you, more so against himself, comparing himself in ways that simply are not necessary or realistic

this applies both in terms of his lycanthropy and chronic illness in a muggle au

the envy is especially strong pre-relationship when he is admiring you from afar and it feels as if you have everything pieced together so perfectly

it is only when he gets closer to you and sees more of the immense pressures you are under and how you're both physically and metaphorically shaking beneath it, that he realises how much of a facade it really is

to see that it doesn't come easy to you either simultaneously heals something within him and encourages him to be even sweeter to you

you might have been concerned that remus realising that it doesn't come easy to you would ruin your "appeal" – that he wouldn't find you as mesmerising if he knew you had to fight for your achievments

but in reality, this is what would cement his affections as love

remus adores elegance and perfection, but he trusts the humanity behind it all, the chaos within

if he thought you flawless, he would likely never be able to feel entirely comfortable in your presence, as if he couldn't rest in the presence of a deity

with this new knowledge, he would still consider you perfect, though, because – as cliche as it might sound – you were perfect to him and something for him to worship

but now he could hold you in his arms and be assured that you were human

which meant you could be his

if you chose to continue pursuing ballet professionally, remus would be your biggest cheerleader

not to mention your biggest anchor, ensuring that you're checking in on your body and not neglecting your health

"you'll not get there faster if you overextend your knees, dove"

"they don't give out medals for dancing on broken ankles, my love"

he would come to your recitals, your auditions, would get the ritual down to a t for you

in a muggle au, i often picture him working within healthcare and he would use all of his tips and tricks on you

though, if you were to only keep doing ballet as a hobby or even retire, he would hold your hand through the process and support you in whatever you may need

he knows what it is like to grieve your body's capabilities, so if you one day couldn't continue anymore, he would help you navigate the pain gently

he would be the shoulder for you to cry on and the partner who explored new hobbies and passions with you

again, healing a part of himself through you

remus lupin would fall in love with ballerina!reader in school while admiring your elegance and grace from afar, but he would stay for the dove he found in your heart to cultivate a life with

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nightghoul381 · 1 day ago

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Honey Charm & Spicy Curse

Harrison Gray ~ Spicy Curse

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories! And I promise this one is worth buying because the voiced lines make it so much better 🥵

Explicit Content | Smut | NSFW | MDNI

CW: Guided Masturbation, mild voyeurism, PIV, Creampie

Harry and I had both been busy that day.

After finishing my report, I waited in his room for him to return home.

(…Harry, it’s late. I haven’t seen you today, so I at least want to see you before I go to sleep.)

(Plus… I overheard Victor telling Harry he needed to be very careful on this mission.)

(…I wonder if he’s okay.)

I sat up from the bed and looked out the window.

As time passed, I grew restless, and then the door slammed open.

Harrison: “…Aah, Kate, I’m home.”

Kate: “Ah, welcome back… wait, are you injured!?”

I instinctively ran over to inspect the bandage peeking out from his sleeve.

Harrison: “What the hell are you looking at? It’s just a scratch. Roger treated it a little too much just to be safe.”

He smiled faintly and shook his bandaged arm, but I didn’t miss the sweat building on his forehead.

Kate: “Don’t move it! Come here, quickly.”

I swiftly sat him on the bed, taking off his coat and making him comfortable.

Harrison: “…Thanks. But you’re worrying too much. It’s an injury that will heal quickly.”

Kate: “I can’t just accept you saying ‘don’t worry’, Harry.”

I was afraid I might become accustomed to his ‘white lies’, become spoiled, and become insensitive to real danger.

I sat next to him, gently stroking his bandaged arm.

Kate: “…Please, let me worry about you.”

As I stared into his mint-colored eyes and pleaded with him, the corners of his eyes relaxed.

Harrison: “You really are…”

Harrison: “You must be tired after your mission, but you’re still waiting in my room until this late, even though we didn’t plan to meet up.”

Harrison: “You think about me, you care about me, you worry about me, instead of yourself.”

Harrison: “…Hey, you. Since when have you become so helpless without me?”

Harrison: “You should practice tonight so you can be prepared to leave.”

Kate: “Such intense training…Aah.”

Before I could respond, I felt a sudden push on my shoulder from the hand that wasn’t bandaged.

As I sank into the bed, a shadow fell upon me stared down at me.

Harrison: “As you can see, I’m injured, so I won’t be able to hold you for a while. This is a good opportunity for some intensive training.”

Harrison: “Try to feel good, all by yourself.”

Kate: “What!? I can’t do that!”

Harrison: “Yeah, you’re lying. It’s not that you ‘can’t do that’ it’s that you think it’s embarrassing.”

Kate: “…gh.”

Harrison: “…Hey, wouldn’t it be okay for you to show that side of yourself to me, your lover?”

His whispering voice resonates hotly against my eardrums.

(Harry…I guess that means since we won’t be able to do that with me for a while, you want to see it.)

Kate: “…Okay.”

He nodded in satisfaction, got up from the bed, and sat in the chair opposite and crossed his legs.

I raised my torso, turned my back to him, and untied the ribbon myself, letting my blouse fall off.

Harrison: “Turn this way.”

The sound had such absolute authority, that my body, in only my undergarments, naturally turned toward him.

With his gaze entangling me, there was no way to escape or hide.

Harrison: “So, what’s next? …What would you want me to do to you?”

Kate: “…”

I slowly removed my underwear, and the tips of my breasts were revealed in an embarrassing way.

Harrison: “Mmm, they ripen so deliciously without any effort.”

Kate: “That’s because… you’re watching them, Harry.”

As I looked down to hide my burning face, I heard a sigh of laughter.

Harrison: “So, what would happen if I messed with them?”

Kate: “Huh?”

Harrison: “Why don’t you play with them yourself?...Like I always do.”

His sweet, pleading whispers made my feelings waver.

(…If Harry wants me to.)

Kate: “Ngh.”

I lifted both breasts from below and pinched the tips with my fingertips.

Harrison: “…Heh, do I really toy with you in such a dirty way? Do you like it when that happens?”

Kate: “Th-that’s right.”

Harrison: “Yeah, another lie. You did it on impulse because that’s what you wanted to do.”

Harrison: “…That’s what you want me to do, right?”

He saw through something I hadn’t even been aware of, and I couldn’t find the words to respond.

Harrison: “Okay, do whatever you like.”

Harrison: “What you want to do, how you feel about what I do to you all the time.”

Harrison: “I’ll take my time to observe.”

As if urging me to go further, his gaze fell on the peaks of my breasts and there was no turning back.

Harrison: “First, try closing your eyes.”

Harrison: “…Right now, it’s my hands kneading your breasts. It’s my fingertips that are teasing you. Imagine that.”

As instructed, I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the sensations of my own hands.

Harrison: “…Does that feel good?”

Kate: “Hngh…Mmmnn…”

Harrison: “…Mmm, that face is nice.”

As he used his voice to suggest things, I gradually began to feel as if he was touching me.

As I felt his gaze on my bare skin, I gradually began to feel a tingling sensation deep inside my body.

Harrison: “Don’t you want me to… touch you further down?”

Kate: “Down…ngh?”

Harrison: “You don’t realize?... You’re fidgeting.”

When he hit the nail on the head, my whole body grew hot in an instant.

Harrison: “Come on, let me see. How does it look now?...Your skirt is getting in the way.”

Kate: “Huh…ngh.”

I hesitantly opened my eyes and was startled to see the mint green eyes staring straight at me.

Silence fell, and before I knew it, I was drawn in by his gaze and took off my skirt.

When I pulled down my damp, clingy underwear, a new wave of viscous fluid began to flow out.

Harrison: “…Open it here and let me see.”

Kate: “…!”

(This is so embarrassing… but)

I want him to see it.

How obsessed I am with him.

How much his desire for me drives me crazy.

Suppressing my embarrassment and excitement, I slowly opened my body to him.

An obscene squelching sound filled the room.

Harrison: “Looks like you’re well prepared.”

Kate: “Gh, Harry… Are you still going to carry on like this…?”

Unable to bear it any longer, I let out a pleading cry—

Harrison: “Aaah… I’m just watching you tonight.”

Harrison: “So, do your best on your own.”

Harrison: “…You always remember what I do to you, right?”

My spiteful lover spoke without moving an inch.

However, I was taken aback by the heat hidden deep in his eyes.

Kate: “Harry…Are you really just going to look at me…?”

Harrison: “Well, is it a lie or the truth?”

Harrison: “I’ll answer if you can cum by yourself. That’s your reward.”

He was slightly smiling as he licked his lips.

I wanted that red tongue, his wet lips—and for him to pour his pent-up desire against my heated body right now.

Harrison: “…Look, your finger is mine. If one isn’t enough, then two, or three.”

Harrison: “Try and imagine that I’m the one thrusting deep inside you.”

Kate: “—Aah, Haah!”

Harry watched over me, urged me on—But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t push myself over the edge on my own.

Harrison: “…I guess you really can’t do it without me.”

The bed sank, and he looked down at me lovingly, gently stroking my cheek.

Kate: “Ha…rry….I-I still…”

Harrison: “…I said I’d only answer if you could do it yourself, but that was a lie.”

Harrison: “I can’t… There’s no way I could remain calm seeing the woman I love in such a state.

He took my hand and led me to his warmth.

(…Harry wants it too.)

Kate: “Oh, but Harry, you’re hurt….”

Harrison: “I told you, it’s just a scratch.”

Kate: “…So, when you said you couldn’t do this for a while, that was a lie, right?”

Harrison: “Something like that.”

Harrison: “Besides…Making love to you right now is more important than my injury.”

Kate: “Ngh…”

The smoldering heat flared up in an instant as our lips met in a passionate kiss.

It was frustrating having to unbutton his shirt and undo his belt,

But as the heat of his flesh touched the place I had longed for, he flinched back—

Harrison: “…Kate, put it in.”

Kate: “…gh!”

I had long ago cast aside any sense of shame.

I pressed his swell against my dripping slit and slowly invited it in.

Kate: “Fuuh…Nngh”

When I felt it go in shallowly—

It suddenly pierced me in one go.

Kate: “Gaah!”

Harrison: “Ah, haah…You made me wait too long.”

The deep connection throbbed powerfully.

The eyes that sought me were filled with desire,

He slammed his hips into me violently, as if trying to penetrate deeper.

Kate: “I-I might … never be able to … leave you though, Harry.”

Kate: “But I don’t want to leave, so… gh.”

I let my thoughts go and clung to him.

As the nectar flowed endlessly and I squeezed him tightly, a smile of ecstasy appeared on his face as well—

Harrison: “…, that’s what… I like about you.”

Harrison: “Maybe, I’m the one… who can’t leave… ngh.”

The words that spilled out as he reached his peak were his true feelings.

It left an indelible stain deep in my heart.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains translation #ikevil translation #Harrison Gray #ikevil Harrison #ikevil Harrison Gray #ikemen villains Harrison #ikemen villains Harrison Gray #smut #nsft #mdni

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thescriptorium · 16 hours ago

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Thinking about the great implications of Jinx’s arc ending with her final battle against Warwick. Having Vander be this monster she created, the reason she thinks Vi must hate her, the reason she hates herself, returning as this one very real ghost from her past. This final trauma that she has to face. It all sounds so perfect on paper. But the way it was translated on screen still seemed off, or lacking some kind of emotional depth. Something I couldn’t put my finger on.

Then I watched schnee’s video, where he basically points out the heavy use of tropes in that self-sacrificial way, and how none of that scene felt new or unique in the arcane-standard we’re used to. aka, Jinx’s tea party massacre where character and plot and lore all converge—into one spectacular explosion.

And then I realized, maybe you can’t beat perfection. Maybe it really was impossible to beat how incredible that scene was. The season 2 finale was good but it wasn’t great like season 1. I won’t pretend to act like I could think of a better way, but maybe I also think we really were missing that one last conversation between the sisters where Vi wants to run away with Jinx again, like in the tea party. Both of them being caught up in a war that has nothing to do with them, with the arcane and overwhelming politics, and saying fuck it, fuck zaun and piltover, it’s only ever been us.

and then, having Jinx be the one to tell Vi “No.”

In a way, that’s what the prison cell scene was, but it’s premature. If this rejection came after Jinx faced Warwick, saving Vi meanwhile (and living), it would show such strength from her. It would reinforce how Vi needed to view Jinx as an adult and not her baby sister. It would insist on both of them growing up, out of their oaths and obligations to each other. Having Jinx, out of the two, insisting that they’re not healthy for each other, that they need to find the strength to walk away and accept not being in each others lives. It would be Jinx breaking not only her cycle, but Vi’s as well, through mature growth and adult conversation.

Not to mention, her killing Warwick to save Vi (and not die) would’ve been her putting those ghosts to rest. The tragedy of Jinx having to kill Vander again, in front of Vi, would have been heartbreaking, but afterwards it would’ve given the chance for Vi to speak her forgiveness, to heal not only Vi’s perception of her, but Jinx’s perception of herself for what happened that night. The way Jinx could’ve been terrified that Vi would’ve hated her for killing Vander again but this time Vi hugs her, thanks her, and proves that she still has faith in her. It doesn’t punish Vi for her love, but she still gets to break her cycle by deciding to let Jinx live on without her, to trust her decisions as an adult and be the person she was always supposed to be—a whole person, without her codependency on her big sister.

Maybe it would’ve been too on the nose, but I think if anything had to be explicitly said in the ending, it could have been this. Giving Vi and Jinx this choice of sisterhood, this conversation of Zaun vs Piltover vs Family, and allowing them to make this decision together. It would’ve pivoted season 2 from being so plot-driven back into being as character-driven as it was season 1.

The sister’s deciding to split ways after fighting so hard with each other, simply for each other, would’ve mirrored Piltover and Zaun’s constant need for divide so perfectly. That separation isn’t terrible if it means they get to heal individually. It doesn’t mean the end of forever, but it means a new beginning for everyone. It could have helped us understand how the theories of Vi being the savior would not have worked, if she said, “I don’t care about the badge, or Zaun, or any kind of agenda. I care about you. I care about the people I love.” That individual need to find family and love despite where it comes from. It could’ve converged Jayce & Viktor’s storyline of ascending all political conflicts to share the love that they have. That way, the lore can be at rest as well.

Vi can live guilt-free in Piltover, and maybe Jinx can return to Zaun one day, after her adventures, leaving little graffiti jokes to Caitlyn and Vi, while also raising a little hell along the way ❤️‍🩹

#BACK TO YAPPING #arcane #vi & jinx #vi arcane #jinx #schnee #arcane season 2

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class1akids · 2 days ago

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how do you think shotos character and story came out in the end

Worse than I hoped and better than I feared. I think Shouto is one of the few characters who doesn't get a major character assassination, but it comes at a price of a lot of his story in Act 3 being told between the lines.

I think the strengths of Shouto's character arc are:

his slow, non-linear healing

his consistent quirk development that not once relied on the power of bullshit

the way the story explores so many of his relationships: with his family, but also quite a few classmates - especially his narrative with Iida is really well-written and consistent.

the way he deals with Touya - coming in a firm conviction of wanting to stop him but also save his life, developing a plan and a move to do that, recognizing that Touya needs somewhere he can direct his rage, not being judgey and saying things like "I'll never forgive you" - I think in the endgame, this represents justice maybe the best.

Fulfilling his character objective of distancing himself from Endeavor and being able to define himself according to his own values

In "more", I think Shouto's "what lies beyond heroism" was handled best, in the subtle way it tied back to Touya and what connected them while still being respectful to the memory of his brother.

The weaknesses of the arc are:

Endeavor mostly - I think Horikoshi didn't manage, especially after the PLF War to balance well Shouto's, Touya's and Endeavor's arcs, and that's why Shouto vs Touya cannot come to a conclusion before it gets sidetracked by the Endeavor vs Touya confrontation. Connecting a breakthrough moment that happens in 352 in more than 70 chapters later in 426 is not going to work as well as if Shouto and Touya get that connection in the battlefield. But because Endeavor is there - it gets sidetracked.

Endeavor again - he also puts his presence on moments that are part of Shouto's narrative, because Horikoshi can't help himself and needs to insert him into everything. For example, Shouto had a clear build-up to join his class after he dealt with the family at the end of the war. While Endeavor had a build-up to step up as a father and put his family first for once. Yet, what happens? Endeavor joins the battle for a last combo with Shouto which Shouto's arc doesn't need.

By the way, out of Shouto's relationships, his turbulent one with his father is one of the most prominent ones. Yet, it doesn't get any kind of real closure in the story - which I guess why Hori decided to give this combo attack as the end of their narrative. Otherwise, it's left totally ambiguous (which can be a blessing or a curse): Shouto never really hears Endeavor's apology, never really talks or thinks about his father after the war. But you know, at least he doesn't have to call him "badass or cool" - so small blessings.

Other problems with Shouto's arc:

His relationship with his mom is the least fleshed out from the family, despite how big an influence she was on him

He gets booted out for entire arcs from the origin trio narrative (especially post-Kamino when HK decided to focus him on his family plot, and made the BKDK win and save as a focus for a while) to be pulled back randomly

His friendship with Deku goes on the backburner because there are so many characters whose only thing is Deku, that Shouto gets barely any space

Horikoshi lands the Todofam arc in an ambiguous place, which means Shouto's feelings about Touya's death and the final falling apart of his family are not explored at all (Uraraka in contrast gets 2 chapters to cry about Toga)

Just like Izuku's feelings about the bullying, Shouto's feelings of the abuse he suffered don't get explored in detail.

So there is a lot left in between the lines for Shouto - which is both a blessing and a curse. There is a lot to explore for fic writers, and everyone can have their own interpretation, but also it feels like some emotional moments could have been stronger, better, more vivid if Horikoshi explores it. Although with his track record, it's probably better that he didn't.

#c1a asks #todoroki shouto #bnha meta

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mylastmoleculeofserotonin · 3 days ago

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The Tragic Fall and Potential Redemption of Caitlyn and Jinx

Disclaimers

I really like both of these characters. I think they are both very nuanced and really well written: neither one is completely good or evil, This is not an attack on either of them or those of us who like either/both of them, I’m just discussing their character flaws and their actions at some of the lowest points in their lives.

As an older sister, I probably hold undue sympathy for Jinx, so please keep that in mind when you read this and if you find anything that I overlooked or unfairly glossed over, please let me know!!

I almost exclusively watch animated fantasy kids shows, so my views on fictional characters’ morality has been shaped by that genre.

Now with that out of the way, onto the actual content:

Jinx and Caitlyn’s arcs are quite similar, sharing many of the same major beats: after tragically and traumatically losing a parental figure, they fall into the hands of a powerful and manipulative mentor/parental figure and go on to do horrible things, with Jinx spreading Silco’s shimmer to the citizens of the Undercity and Caitlyn adopting Ambessa’s ruthless tactics in the name of protecting Piltover. However, despite their nearly identical arcs, I have vastly different opinions on what their potential redemption arcs should look like due to a few key differences in their stories and characters.

For starters, Jinx was very young when she lost Vander and fell into Silco’s hands. She was never able to establish a stable identity for herself in her formative preteen and teenage years (until Season 2, which I’ll get to later), as shown by her two different names, how she can’t let Powder drown, and how her hallucinations get worse and more overwhelming every time she’s reminded of her past self. She also wasn’t as invested in Silco’s plans as she was in receiving his praise and affection, which we can see by how she constantly seeks physical affection and words of encouragement from Silco but is also completely willing to disobey him, diverge from his plans, jeopardize his missions and jump ship the moment she finds out that Vi’s alive. This shows how much Silco has corrupted her core motivation of wanting to help people, which we know from the sheer number of times she says some variation of “I want to help” in Act 1 of Season 1, and how everyone always comments on how selfless and helpful she is in the alternate universe.

Meanwhile, Caitlyn was in her early-mid twenties when she fell into Ambessa’s web, and had already formed a stable, if not fully formed, sense of self and purpose. She wants to actively do good and improve the world around her, as evidenced by her decision to break away from politics which and join the enforcers and her subsequent exhaustive efforts to find and dismantle an crime organization, which was then corrupted by Ambessa who got her to seize power and ruthlessly crack down on the Jinxers and crime in the Zaun.

So, what does this mean for their possible redemption arcs?

Because Jinx was very much not her own person until Season 2 and a child for most of her time working for Silco, I believe that all Jinx needs to live a happy, peaceful life is to have some healthy support systems/coping mechanisms and her own sense of self as she does in the alternate universe. And we see in Season 2 how much of a better person she can be with simply the absence of a toxic familial environment: she cares for Isha, rescues many Zaunites from inhumane treatment following their dubiously justified arrests, takes the lead in healing her relationship with Sevika and Vi and then leading the Firelights and other Zaunites to fight for Piltover against Noxus, and I believe she can do so much more good and 100% deserves a chance at a new life with a fresh start.

That’s not to say that Jinx didn’t do bad things and didn’t seriously hurt people. She has been implied to have killed many people and helped get Zaun addicted to shimmer. However, she was a child and dependent on Silco for survival and whatever scraps of sanity she could find. She also knew she was more or less replaceable, which we can see when she was afraid of appearing weak and then stole the hex tech crystal to prove her worth to Silco, and if she left, Silco and a bunch of other Zaunites would have tried to hunt her down. Simply put, she had relatively no power to not go along with Silco and even if she did, Silco would have achieved very similar results regardless. And I do believe that in most cases, children, especially those with mental illnesses, and/or toxic/abusive parental figures, deserve a fresh start and a clean slate when they are able to develop their own identity, ideals and world view, so I really can’t fully blame Jinx for what she did prior to the Season 1 finale. And then, after the dinner scene, I don’t believe she does anything bad enough to disqualify her from redemption: if I remember correctly all she did was try to kill Vi and the task force who were hunting her, kill the three goons who were after Isha who were implied to have enslaved her to work in the mines, and then fire her rocket at the council to start a revolution for independence, which I think is completely justifiable since the under-city had largely been supportive of a revolution since she was a child and a decapitating strike is the quickest and least bloody way to end a war and she only really ended up killing three people who were oppressing them. That just leaves the kidnapping of Vi and Caitlyn and the murder of Silco that she should make amends for, but since Vi never really held it against her and killing Silco was arguably a net positive for both Zaun and Piltover, the only thing that she owes is an apology for Caitlyn, but I don’t think that that’s enough to make her irredeemable.

Caitlyn’s redemption would be a bit more involved since she had a lot of power, and with it, the responsibility to not abuse it. However, she personally used chemical weapons against anyone suspected to have ties to Silco or Jinx, didn’t honor the plea bargains she offered, allowed Noxian troops to arrest and torture anyone with blue hair on the grounds they were affiliated with Jinx, and threatened prisoners with the most inhumane conditions in Stillwater should they not cooperate. Under normal circumstances, that would be an unforgivable breach of power, however, Caitlyn’s circumstances were anything but normal. She had just lost her mother in an unexpected attack on Piltover’s Council which did warrant some sort of response, she was being manipulated by a Noxian mastermind on top of being relatively young and new to politics. All things considered, it could have gone a lot worse which is why I think that Caitlyn deserves the opportunity to make things right.

What I think redemption could look like for Caitlyn is: reforming the justice system and Stillwater, compensating the Jinxers she arrested and the Zaunites who fought with her against Noxus, leading the reconstruction of Zaun and putting it on as equal footing with Piltover as possible (which we do see start to happen), install adequate air and water filtration in Zaun, create government programs and fund community organizations to help people quit Shimmer, research ways to help people heal from the long term affects of shimmer and resign from her role as Commander. I think these actions would help heal the damage she inflicted on Zaun in her time as Commander while also working to make things better for them in the future to reduce the chance of civil war and another ruthless crackdown on Zaun.

My congratulations for making it all the way through my many many thoughts. I find morality and redemption really interesting concepts especially in fiction, and Arcane has so many good characters to discuss those topics with! So please, lmk what you think!!

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #jinx #jinx arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #redemption arc #piltover and zaun #silco #arcane silco #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda

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rik0shii · 3 days ago

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younger cousin!reader taking care of Top during his scandal. reader cook for him making sure he eats, making sure he didn't feel alone after what had happened to him. she knows that Top loves music and encourage him to write some as his therapy. (he once mentioned it in his recent interview that making music is one of the things that slowly healed him from his past!) basically just reader feeling concerned and taking care of her oppa <3

A Place to Rest

After everything that happened, Seunghyun shuts himself away, weighed down by exhaustion and self-doubt. But you refuse to leave him alone. You make sure he eats, stay by his side so he doesn’t feel alone, and remind him of the passion that once helped him heal—his music. Through quiet persistence and unwavering support, you encourage him to write again, not for anyone else but for himself. Even if he can’t see a way forward yet, you believe in him—enough for both of you.

hii i hope you enjoy this!! reposts and comments are appreciated!<33

The apartment was quiet, too quiet. It wasn’t the kind of peaceful silence that felt comfortable—it was the heavy kind, the kind that pressed against your chest and made everything feel colder.

You glanced toward the couch, where Seunghyun sat, unmoving. His posture was slouched, his hands clasped loosely between his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor. He looked exhausted, not just physically but in a way that went deeper, like he was carrying a weight too heavy for one person.

You hated seeing him like this.

With a quiet sigh, you placed the bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of him. “I made you something to eat.”

He barely acknowledged you, just a slight shift of his eyes toward the bowl before looking away again. “I’m not hungry.”

“You always say that,” you said, crossing your arms. “But you still have to eat.”

“Not right now.” His voice was low, quiet.

You sat down beside him, determined not to let him sink any further into himself. “Seunghyun, when was the last time you had a proper meal?”

He didn’t answer. That was answer enough.

“You need to take care of yourself,” you said gently. “Even if it’s hard.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Then, finally, he let out a slow exhale and picked up the spoon. He took a small sip, barely more than a taste, but it was something.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “See? Not so bad, right?”

Seunghyun let out a quiet, almost hollow chuckle. “You’re too stubborn.”

“You’ve known me long enough to expect this by now,” you teased, hoping to lift the mood even just a little.

He didn’t respond, just kept eating slowly, like it was a chore. You knew he wasn’t enjoying it, not really. But at least he was trying. That was what mattered.

For weeks now, he had been shutting himself away. After everything that had happened—the scandal, the backlash, the isolation—he had retreated into his own world, letting the weight of it all bury him. You had seen glimpses of this side of him before, but never like this.

Seunghyun had always been someone larger than life. Confident. Creative. A force of nature. Seeing him like this, quiet and withdrawn, hurt more than you could put into words.

“You know,” you started carefully, watching his reaction, “you once told me that making music helped you through your hardest times.”

He stilled, his spoon hovering just above the bowl.

“You said it was the only thing that really let you express yourself,” you continued. “That when everything felt like too much, writing helped.”

Seunghyun slowly set the spoon down. His expression was unreadable, but you could see something shift in his eyes.

“I don’t know if that’s true anymore,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It is,” you said without hesitation. “Even if you don’t believe it right now, I do.”

He let out a slow breath, leaning back against the couch. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Then don’t think about starting,” you said. “Just write. Anything. Even if it’s messy, even if it doesn’t make sense. Just… let it out.”

He didn’t respond, just stared at the ceiling like he was searching for something there.

“You don’t have to share it with anyone,” you added. “Just do it for yourself.”

Silence stretched between you, but this time, it didn’t feel as heavy. It felt like he was actually considering it.

“You really think it’ll help?” he finally asked.

“I do.” You met his eyes, unwavering. “And even if you don’t believe in yourself right now, I still believe in you.”

Something flickered across his face—something fragile, hesitant. Hope.

For the first time in weeks, he didn’t look so lost.

He didn’t promise anything, didn’t say he would do it, but the fact that he was listening, that he was even thinking about it, was enough.

For now, that was enough.

#top scenarios #top bigbang #top x reader #top fluff #top comfort #comfort #bigbang fluff #fluff #squid game #thanos #kpop smau #kpop x reader #kpop #choi seunghyun #gdragon #daesung #taeyang

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nickeverdeen · 3 days ago

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I have listened to the Crime and Punishment cover by Ado as well as just other angsty romance songs in general too much lately and now I have an idea.

Could you write Vi x fem reader one shot where they've just broken up and both Vi and reader are just going through it, but both are also kind of longing for each other?

Longing For You | Vi x fem!reader

Pairings: Vi x reader (broken up)

Type of fic: Angst

Warnings: Alcohol, smoking, break-up

Summary: Some time ago you and Vi broke up, but neither of you are handeling it well and still long for each other despite the pain.

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Piltover’s nights were always cold, but tonight felt unbearable.

You walked the familiar streets, hands buried deep in your coat pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind. It wasn’t the chill that made your chest ache, though—it was the absence of her.

Vi.

Her name alone sent a fresh wave of pain crashing through you, but it was useless to fight it. Everywhere you looked, she was there. The alley where she once pinned you against the wall, grinning before stealing a kiss. The café where she’d show up late, still bruised from a fight, but always with that cocky smile, promising she was fine. The worn-down apartment you used to share, where her touch still lingered in the sheets.

It had been weeks since the breakup. Maybe a month. You weren’t sure anymore.

All you knew was that every morning, you woke up expecting her to be there. And every night, you lay awake, missing the weight of her arm slung lazily over your waist, the steady rise and fall of her breath lulling you to sleep.

You had told yourself this was for the best. You both needed space. You both needed to heal.

But then why did it feel like you were falling apart?

Vi wasn’t handling it any better.

She sat on the rooftop of a half-finished building, staring down at the city, a cigarette dangling between her fingers. She didn’t even smoke. Not really. It just gave her something to do—something to hold onto when her hands itched for you instead.

She was tired of pretending she was fine.

The fights, the misunderstandings, the frustration—they were all real, sure. But so was the love. So was the need she still had for you, like an open wound that refused to heal.

She had tried everything. Working herself into exhaustion. Picking fights she didn’t care to win. Drinking just enough to blur the memories of your laughter, your warmth, the way you used to look at her like she was something worth holding onto.

But it never worked. Because at the end of the day, when the adrenaline faded and the liquor wore off, all she was left with was you.

And Vi didn’t know how to be without you.

She exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face. Get over it, Vi. Move on.

She had told herself that more times than she could count.

She had never once believed it.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you walked past the bar she used to frequent. Maybe you were hoping—no, you corrected, not hoping—just… wondering.

But when you looked through the rain-slicked window, your heart clenched.

There she was.

Vi sat alone at the bar, hunched over a drink she hadn’t touched, her knuckles pressing against her forehead. She looked—exhausted. Worn-down. And so unbearably familiar that it hurt.

You should’ve walked away.

You didn’t.

Instead, you stepped inside, the door creaking as it swung shut behind you. Vi stiffened slightly at the sound but didn’t turn around. Not until you hesitated beside her.

She lifted her head slowly, and when her eyes met yours, something in her expression cracked.

“Hey,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Vi swallowed hard. Her fingers curled around her glass like she needed something to hold onto.

“…Hey.”

Neither of you spoke for a long time. The air between you was heavy—thick with words unsaid, regrets unspoken.

You glanced down at her hands. The same hands that used to pull you close, that used to brush hair from your face in the morning. They looked tired.

“You look like hell,” you murmured, your voice almost gentle.

Vi huffed a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah, well. You should see the other guy.”

Your lips twitched, just for a second, before fading back into something more somber.

Neither of you knew what to say.

But the longing was there, sitting between you, in the way her gaze lingered on your lips, in the way your fingers twitched like they wanted to reach for hers.

“I should go,” you finally said, but you didn’t move.

Vi’s jaw tensed. “Yeah.” But she didn’t move either.

For a moment, it felt like the past could be rewritten. Like maybe, if one of you just reached out, all of this could be undone.

But neither of you did.

And so, after a few more painful seconds, you turned, stepping away, even as every part of you screamed to stay.

Vi watched you go, her grip tightening around her glass until her knuckles turned white.

And when the door shut behind you, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Loving you had never been the problem.

Letting go was.

#request #imagine #arcane #wlw #break up #vi x reader #arcane vi #vi #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi x fem reader #vi x f!reader

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the-best-of-waynes · 3 hours ago

Text

ending co-written with mun of @brightest-starr-girl

"Pete is... he's really funny. And really sweet. And really smart." Lenny nudges Karen. "Kinda like you. But also... very much his own person. He's not exactly golden retriever. He's more of a chocolate lab puppy. And a little less stoic than you, a little quieter. But... I think I really like him, Kare. I just don't know that he'll like me back."

"Don't know that you're worth liking, you mean." Karen raises a brow at her best friend's pointed pout. "Don't try to deflect, I know you."

Lenny huffs, picking slightly at her fingernails. "Just... after our break-up. Can I even do a relationship? I feel like- like everyone I love, just ends up hurt. I'm a curse, K. Or it feels that way. Might as well protect them if I can't do anything else." She lets out a bitter half-laugh. "I already made you cry." A sideways glance. "Is it... selfish to bring you along?"

Karen sighs. "I'm gonna level with you, Len. The whole..." She can't bring herself to say 'faking your death', "-leaving thing is more selfish than staying. You don't want to see them hurt, so the solution is... hurt them from afar? So they're in an equally bad, if not worse position, you just don't have to deal with it?"

Lenny winces. "When you put it that way..."

"So why leave?"

"I already told you. I started planning it after the whole thing went down with Deathstroke and Joker and all that. And then- Dad and Mo- Selina broke up. Dad's trying to heal and me being around reminding him of her isn't helping at all. Then you've got her and the minute they break up she ditches, picks fu- picks Stray, her beloved Tim variant, over me, which I get; one of us is like her and the other is not-"

"As far as she knows," Karen interrupts.

"As far as she knows," Lenny confirms. "Then you've got Dick dealing with everything on his plate, same with Jay and Tim-Tam and Dami and Cass and Steph and Duke, and all of them need attention that I'm stealing with Dad who's already trying to balance everything for everyone. And, well... we disagree on the value-added of my presence."

"And there's nothing else?" Karen presses.

Lenny hesitates, then adds, "Nothing I can share at the moment."

Karen allows it, knowing she won't get anything else. "No matter what happens, you know I love you, right?"

"I... try." She meets Karen's eyes. "Kay. I... see your point in the selfishness. And maybe it is. Probably, it is. But... I have tried so hard, for so long, to be everything they needed me to be."

"Then tell them that," Karen begs, pleads, desperate. "Helena." She never uses her best friend's full first name. "Helena, I mean it. Just tell them."

Lenny swallows hard. "I can't," she whispers, a confession and a defense all at once. "I don't know how."

"Let them in. You've let me in. They want to be there for you."

"No. No, I- I've worked so hard. I've hidden so much just so I can get through. They don't know me, they don't get to know me, I can't do it. I've already lost so much- Kay- I- I can't lose again-"

She's begun to devolve into a panic attack, and Karen instantly moves, grabbing Lenny's hands and exaggerating her breathing for Lenny to match. "In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight." She repeats the words as she models, until finally Lenny is calm. "You okay?"

Lenny- Lena- Helena- Len- whoever she is right now- nods before shaking her head no and half collapsing into Karen's embrace. Tears wet the blonde's shoulder, and both are incredibly grateful for waterproof makeup as Karen holds her, allowing her to let it out. "I don't know who I am anymore, K. I think I'm too broken for all of this.

"I think you need a break," Karen returns, gentle, soothing, rubbing her hand lightly along Lenny's back as she does just that. "You've been fighting for so long. Not just with a bow--I mean since I've met you. You've been fighting since before I met you, with all that stuff with Robe-"

"Don't say his name," Helena cuts in vehemently.

"Okay," Karen easily acquiesces. "Since the stuff with J.C. and your first foster dad. I saw you fight to stay afloat when living with your adoptive family. I saw you fight for those siblings. I saw you fight to find who you were, fight to get out, fight to get to Gotham. I've seen you fight for the other kids on the street, as a civilian and as a vigilante. I've seen you fight for the world. Seen you sacrifice yourself, over and over and over again. I've seen you fight for your parents and fight for your many new siblings. And I've seen you fight yourself every step of the way. I don't know of a time I haven't seen you fighting, if not an external force, then an internal battle with yourself. And I've known you for almost a decade, Len." Karen pulls back slightly, not letting go or removing her touch, but intentional. "Look me in the eye." She waits. "The only reason I'm not telling Mr. Wayne anything is because you need to rest. And if this is what it takes for you to do that, for you to stop fighting and just sit, then I'll do whatever you need me to. Because you need to. And if it takes getting away from the family and from who you've tried to force yourself to be, then I'll support you. But Len... don't let all this pain be in vain, okay? Just... promise me that."

"I promise." It's dull, but genuine, overloaded with emotions.

"Thank you." Karen pulls her back in for a hug. "I love you. Remember that, alright?"

"I love you too, Kare." For the first time all evening, for the first time in months, the smile Helena gives is easy and real. "I'll stay in touch."

Karen laughs, a wet laugh, one telling how hard it is to hold back the sobs. "You better. Or I'm hunting you down."

"Ooh, scary," Lenny teases.

Karen flicks her. "Just shut up and let me hug you. I don't know when I'll get to again."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am."

And so, Karen embraces her best friend tighter, the both soaking in the moment. When they let go and part ways, the gala winding down, it's lingering, bittersweet, but the words have been spoken; their hearts and minds are lighter, if a little sadder.

But their relationship, all the stronger.

Martha Wayne Foundation’s Midwinter Gala

open to anyone who wants to join!

Helena takes a deep breath and a shallow sip of champagne. Her family isn't here, so it's not like they can take it away, and no one else cares, because she's not getting drunk and pretty much everyone above the age of fourteen at a gala drinks.

As much as she hates these things, she is willing to suffer through if it means her dad and brothers get a little break. Maybe it'll help with the guilt a little. After all, it's the least she can do, considering...

Nevermind. She's nauseous once more.

She spots a server unobtrusively making his way through the crowd and immediately begins weaving through to reach him. The food is the only redeemable thing about a gala, other than the dancing; it might be small in size, but the number is unlimited, the selection varied, and the taste exquisite.

So focused is she on her goal of canapes that she completely misses the person she bumps into.

"So sorry," she apologizes quickly.

[outfit under the cut]

#thread: the ex gala

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chronicparagon · 12 days ago

Note

👀 !! :>

@nohymn

send 👀 if our muses have never interacted before (or have!) and I will write up 3-5 headcanons for their relationship!

The first meeting was a little tense. Sunday boards the Astral Express as a passenger while Harmony is part of the crew as one of the Nameless. Harmony is pretty shy and at first, she is wary with how he carries himself. Of course, she would be polite with him despite being a little put off by how he seems holier than thou while he must adjust to the dramatic changes in his life. This is the beginning of learning that Sunday is not all that he seems and deep down, he is human who is starting on a new journey to find himself.

2. The coldness between them doesn't last long. While on the Astral Express, there is time to cross paths and start to get to know each other. They find that they both love music and adore sweets. This becomes the first bit of common ground that the two bond on.

3. Though she doesn't remember much about her past, Harmony knows she can play guitar and sing. She has to adjust to playing with the loss of sensation in her fingers due to her cybernetics, but she got the hang of it again with some encouragement from others. Sunday and his immaculate talents on the piano is a big influence in her taking up the guitar again.

This leads to spending time listening to each other play, even playing together through those quiet hours during their travels.

4. Both love desserts and Sunday leads to Harmony learning about the vast variety of pastries that she never knew existed before. One of Harmony's talents is also baking and she would be interested in learning how to bake egg based sweets like puddings and custards. She does well in this skill and would invite Sunday to tase test these creations. Creme brulee and Chocolate pudding tarts topped with fresh berries are some of her favorite creations.

5. Harmony loves how Sunday's hair looks. Harmony is also quite prideful of her own hair which is based on her culture. Hair is seen as "medicine," which refers to spiritual power or the power of the connection of identity and culture, which has its own healing power.

This is a big stretch, but if there's enough trust, they may get into sharing tricks on how they tend to their hair. It could escalate to brushing and styling each other's hair. Among Harmony's people, working on each other's hair by brushing, braiding, etc are done as showing trust and care. It is also an act of healing by bonding with others and reconnecting with heritage. It gives the opportunity to share stories while boosting each other's confidence.

#nohymn #answered #thank you!!#The Unconquerable (HSR!AU)#please let me know if you want anything changed #I was a bit hesitant with the 5th headcanon but I also think this could work #but only if you're okay with it #I used medicine as a holistic term which includes physical mental emotional and spiritual #and rituals like with hair can be medicine for it allows connection to others and also culture #in some Indigenous cultures like in the US this refers to the four directions like the aspects of health #these are body (physical) mind (mental) heart (emotional) and spirit/soul (spiritual)#I always argue that culture means everything in health #practicing that with others and sharing that can be healing #and really I think they both need healing

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superbat-lmao · 1 month ago

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A Jayroy fic where Jade drops off baby Lian and they just.. retire.

There’s a really difficult conversation they have about dating and raising a kid and vigilante work and they decide screw it. It’s not safe to raise a kid around.

And by retire, I mean they disappear. Go to ground.

(Talia knows what it is to want the best for your child even if they have different opinions on what best is. She gets them off the grid and funded in some sort of suburban hellscape that takes the both of them a while to adjust to. They say they have a deep space mission and just, don’t come back.)

Roy works in a rehab clinic and Jason gets a degree in Literature. He becomes a professor at a small college, taking on graduate students and falling into academia.

They go to therapy, the make friends with other parents, they become normal people. And they have an insane security system for their house, and AI that scrapes cameras of their faces, and a modified basement that Roy compares to the Batcave exactly once that has a gym and space to work on equipment and a method of escape should it be necessary to uproot their lives again.

Because they want to be civilians, but that doesn’t mean that if their past lives come knocking, they’ll be caught unaware and too out of the game to defend themselves. In fact, because they don’t go on patrol, they’re at peak performance at all times and rarely injured more than a sprained wrist or paper cut. Gone are the days of concussions, GSWs, and stab wounds.

The superhero community doesn’t know what to do, what to think. Because all of their resources are expended elsewhere. And because space is a big place, and trying to find two humans in its vastness is an exercise in futility.

So Lian grows up normally. She’s a girl whose parents love her. And her problems are ordinary, like homework and sleepovers and playing soccer.

And when she’s in middle school, the same age as Roy and Jason were when they started superhero training, they tell her about their past lives. About the danger it will bring if they’re found. Because they promised never to lie to her, and to never let her get wrapped up in the vigilante scene.

They’re well adjusted people raising a normal daughter.

And they explain to Lian that they came from very large and complicated families. Families that did dangerous work, work that put anyone who knew about it at risk. And that Lian was a baby, and that all of that risk of their jobs, was not worth her life. That they loved her more than their families, their jobs, their previous lives. But that it meant they could be discovered, and that those old lives would be dragged back up again and she could get hurt.

Lian thinks of it like witness protection.

So Lian memorizes code names and pictures of people that may try and approach her. She learns the differences between friendlies and uglies. Between ex-family, and rogues. And she doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t look into things when her parents ask her not to. Because she trusts them to protect her. She trusts them like a well adjusted young girl who could very well ask her parents for more information, but doesn’t care about the answers because she trusts they’re not important. That it doesn’t change how much they love her or what their lives are.

There are a couple of versions of this:

1. Jason, Roy and Lian live out their lives happily and away from their families. They are never again vigilantes or found out by them.

A) Alfred dies and that is the only thing that almost breaks Jason, that he didn’t get to see the man again before he died.

2. The Bats track them down, ask them what they hell they were thinking, that they thought they were dead. To come home, be part of the family again. They’re told no - and the three of them disappear again to somewhere they’ll never be found.

3. Alfred finds them, says nothing to anyone and once a year, on Lian’s birthday, goes to visit. None of the Bats ever figure it out.

4. Alfred knows where they’re going from the beginning, he keeps them updated on their families and helps hide them from everyone. He never once tells a soul that Jason and Roy are alive. He is allowed to visit Lian sometimes and they are all happier for it.

A) When Alfred gets old enough, he tells Bruce he will be retiring. He asks that he is not followed, that no one from the super hero community is allowed to keep tabs on him. He tells him he’s sorry, but that it has to be this way. Alfred goes and lives the end of his life with Jason, they speak about literature every day, about Alfred’s parents about anything he wants to. Jason buries Alfred in England and Bruce Wayne gets an unmarked alert to its location.

5. The Bats find them, and never approach them. Each Bat basically figures out that Jason is alive, doesn’t say anything to the rest of the family, and keeps tabs on him and Roy. Once they realize that Lian exists, none of them ever breach that level of trust, even as they all grow into old age and move on with their lives.

6. Bruce finds them.

A) He waits for Jason in a cafe, watches him realize who he is and turn to look at the Roy Harper, who nods once and walks away. Jason approaches him and sits down. He asks how he found them. Bruce doesn’t say anything, just looks at his son, alive, seemingly happy. Tells him it was an accident, he had genuinely still thought they were in space, maybe dead, until someone plagiarized Jason’s work, submitted it through a Wayne Enterprises competition of some sort, and it flagged the system. It had been entirely work related, pure coincidence. No capes.

B) And Jason laughs and it’s lighter than Bruce has heard it in years. Jason asks how much Bruce knows about him now, how much intel he gathered before approaching him. Bruce says he knows about their marriage, their daughter, their jobs and habits. Jason nods and he’s smiling. Bruce doesn’t know what to do. He had checked the area, and there were no reports of anything approaching vigilantism, no anonymous casework, no decrease in crime, nothing to suggest the presence of the Red Hood and Arsenal. He hasn’t spoken to Jason outside of business in years, isn’t sure he knows how to anymore. And he looks happy, he’s alive, he’s a civilian.

C) He wants to ask him everything, ask him to come home, wants to know the man his son became. He asks Jason why. Why they disappeared. And Jason is still smiling and it’s honest and Bruce can’t stand to look at him and can’t help it either. So Jason tells him that they will never let their daughter into vigilantism. That they quit, and needed it to be absolute. That he and Roy couldn’t do this halfway, that if they loved their daughter they had to do only what was best for her, and that meant burning their old lives entirely, becoming civilians.

D) Their lives had been too complicated, too many people, too much history. So many ways for things to go badly, to leave Lian without parents or get her killed as leverage against them. And for as much as he and Roy had cared about the people in their lives, couldn’t stop caring about them, they knew that they would just drag Lian into all of the emotional problems that come with being a vigilante. That it wasn’t healthy, for any of them. That trying to do so would kill them. So they disappeared. And Bruce thinks of the pain he and his family had gone through over Jason, wondering how he was doing, if he was dead, hearing nothing and trying not to let it eat at them. But right now, his son is in front of him smiling, something he can’t seem to stop doing. Something Bruce never thought he’d see again.

E) And he has a son in law, a granddaughter. His son has a family, one he built himself. He looks healthy, he’s not closed off, he’s more open than Bruce thinks he’s ever seen him. It’s jarring, like Bruce is wrong footed. He doesn’t know what to say. Wants to tell him about everything that’s happened, to his brothers to their family, to Gotham and old contacts. Wants him back in the loop. Wants to ask about their lives, and college, and his wedding and his daughter. Bruce wants to know all of it. And he wants to know how he did it, how he hid himself so well in plain view.

F) And the detective in him will always prioritize the how over everything else. He wouldn’t be Bruce if he didn’t. So Bruce asks how. And Jason laughs, says he’s not going to tell him.

G) You know I can’t tell you that, old man.

H) He can’t let it go, Bruce can never let anything go, that’s his burden to bear. He tries to push old buttons, doesn’t notice he’s doing it. But Jason won’t stop smiling, won’t switch from civilian to vigilante. There is no trace of anger, of the Red Hood. He doesn’t look surprised and Bruce’s arguments, about flaws in his code, software, he’s just smiling. Won’t rise to the bait. And for once, Bruce has a feeling he’s only felt around Clark. A feeling of being outmatched. Jason knows all of his buttons, isn’t pushing a damn one. Isn’t letting Bruce push his either. It’s not even a stalemate. Bruce has no openings.

I) He starts telling him about his brothers, about missions and life developments. He tries to tell Jason everything. And Jason listens, hears everything he has to say. And Bruce asks him about himself, his life, his husband, his daughter. And he hears about NA and AA meetings, about therapy and raising an infant, and being a professor and his students about their friends and neighbors, about Lian’s friends at school. All of it. Except the how. And at some point, it’s been a couple of hours, but not very long at all, Jason gets a text. He doesn’t look at his phone. And Bruce knows that whatever spell had been cast over the cafe, whatever bubble of another universe he had crossed into, he was about to watch it close. Implode on itself with only him inside. Because Jason was about to leave. All of it, the cafe, the conversation, the smiling and the laughter, it was the one distraction that Bruce was liable to. And Jason has him right where he wanted him. It was something that wouldn’t work twice, and they both knew it.

J) And Jason says, I can’t stop you from telling anyone. I can’t stop any of you from looking for us, but this was the third life of mine that you ended. Of the two of us, I would go to greater lengths to protect my daughter. I am asking you not to make me do something you’ll regret. I am asking you not to look for us, not to tell anyone, not to put it in a report. I did not want to hurt you, any of you. And you have made that unavoidable. I know you, Bruce, and I have spent time healing from everything I’ve been through. I cannot allow you to pull me back into it, to pull the three of us back into your world. I know that this conversation won’t stop you, now that you know. So I’m sorry, I didn’t want to have to say this. I know who you are, who all of you are. It was never a question before, that I would keep your secrets. If you look for us, I will go public. It’s not just your life I’ll be placing at risk, it will be the entire league. I will burn every bridge, every alias. I have redundancies in place, you send a super my way you better be sure to send them all. You better be sure you’ve caught all my backups, all of Roy’s backups, everything. We have avoided you for years without triggering any of your, or the league’s, systems. I can’t predict another accident, but if you know what is best for you and everything you’ve built, you will prevent even that from happening. Do not force my hand.

K) Bruce stands, trying to memorize his son’s face. And then Jason is gone. Disappearing down a street and out of sight. And Roy is waiting for him, their house had been cleared of all traces, Talia has new lives set up for them and Lian is asleep in the backseat.

L) Their lives are busy for the next few weeks, traveling and covering their tracks and looking for new methods of being traced. And they change their names, change their lives, are prepared for the upheaval of being new people again. This time, it sticks. They watch Lian graduate school, college, get married, have children of her own. And the media is inescapable - they learn very little about their old families lives, but not nothing. There are funerals and weddings and probably so much more in private, things they will never know, never be part of again. And then they’re just old and together. Their grandkids visit, Lian visits, life is good and long and they are happy.

• Or, it sticks until one day, a spell is cast in Gotham and he’s standing on a rooftop, no mask, identity on full display, surrounded by other vigilantes in mixed states of gear and civilian status. Some being or other from another universe required all hands on deck in this universe and had used a spell to summon them all here.

• Jason spotted Roy appearing near him on the rooftop, both of them stunned. No one had noticed them yet, but their moment of indecisiveness and a moment of pure awareness on the Batfam’s part, meant there would be an inescapable confrontation. Batman seemed to notice them first and looked to Jason, who shook his head. It appeared Batman was trying to talk to the person who had summoned them all here, to argue they should be sent back or ask if it was possible.

• Jason moved himself and Roy towards Batman, doing their best to avoid looking at any of the other vigilantes at all, including but especially family. They walked into a tense conversation.

• You must send them back, they are civilians.

• Batman, you of all people understand the threat we are up against, if the spell believes they are necessary to combat X then they were brought here.

• I understand perfectly well, I am telling you to send them back. Having them here is a security risk, not during the fight, but after. This is not your universe, things are different in ways you can’t know of, this is one of those circumstances.

• Jason and Roy approach, Roy tapping his shoulder in a way that means he’ll follow his lead.

• He announces, You are in violation of the Hempstead agreement. You have one hour to return us to our previous location before we are a security risk.

• They can hear intakes of breath around them, some of the arrow clan and bat clan have approached, uncertain of what exactly is happening, but not comforted by the fact that Batman seems to understand the situation without telling any of them. The argument continues, Jason standing just behind Roy, separating him from the group slowly forming around them, people pushing their way to the center to see their son or brother again. Their friends.

• A decision is reached, It will take me 10 minutes to establish a connection strong enough to send them both through. Do not interrupt me while I prepare, follow me.

• And Jason and Roy are walking away, backs turned to their families. To their friends. There are shouts behind them, their names, other things they choose not to hear. It is all held at bay by Batman.

• They are speaking with the universe hopper, giving him a location to send them while clearly stating that he is not to give out that location to any of the vigilantes here, that violation of these terms will risk the hero community at large. The closer it gets to the ten minute mark, the more the riot behind them frays between silent understanding and desperation. Neither of them turns around, they can’t allow themselves to look. It is excruciating.

• Roy looks Jason in the eye and neither of them are fully able to stand it, but the fact that they’re not alone has to be enough. Jason can see the itch start, the overwhelming feeling that can’t be tolerated, the one that motivates people to seek out something that will just stop. He reaches out his hand, taps it against Roy’s and is met with one of the worst smiles he’s ever seen. It threatens to bring Jason to his knees, but Roy threads their hands together. The portal opens before them and without turning around, they step through.

• There is a shared panic attack, a moment of grief and regret where both of them realize just how greatly they hurt all of the people they used to care about. They break apart together and rebuild each other enough to pick up Lian from school and begin the process of torching their home. Whatever fight they had been summoned for had not happened yet, so they had a larger lead time than they had when Bruce had stumbled across them. But now, the entire hero community, many more points of being able to be convinced, was now aware they were both alive and on Earth.

#jason todd #batman #bruce wayne #redhood #roy harper #jayroy #royjay #arsenal #alfred pennyworth #retirement!au #i really think that the best way jason and roy could heal is to stop being vigilantes #that’s probably true for most of the heroes and vigilantes honestly if looking at a personal scale and not global #jason specifically is stuck in some toxic web of family and vigilantes where he can’t separate them #and he never got the time other kid heros did where they figured out who they were as they grew up jason got it dumped on him #and the distinct brand of hero judgement that comes from people trying to uphold morality being leveled at you when trying to stay sober #isn’t healthy for roy so honestly both of them need new support systems and time to learn how to cope away from life threatening traumas #i don’t know how to work in jade so either she’s exempt and can see lian or she makes talia promise she’ll be safe #i think talia would absolutely go to bat for jason against bruce in this and if bruce finds out he’s alive and they’re okay she’s in for #a worse screaming match then when he figured out she put his kid in the pit i can’t imagine his rage over her stepping in twice #but jason would absolutely appreciate it and roy would be nervous as hell meeting The Talia al Ghul

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