#and right after shes marked for death and takes more damage for some time after

[bunnyhugs77]

Driven 2 U

Pairing: Rich! Reader x Mechanic! Jungkook

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: am i back from the dead??

Content Warning: reader is a bit spoiled but she can't help it!, ft manager! yoongi, jk is so whipped, fluff, car troubles, reader is a bad driver, kissing, witty jk, some smut, pining, mentionsn of ex boyfriends, dirty hands, flowers, reader is a bit oblivious, mention of death, jungkook is delusional just like us.

Other Content: making out, late-night rendezvous, choking, semi-public sex, they're both so desperate, marking, soft dom! jk, light hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), cute conversations in between, praise.

The sun beamed down gently between the spaces of the clouds that littered the otherwise bright blue sky. Your Chanel sunglasses framed your face perfectly and your arm rested on the ledge of the window as you steered with the other. The air was sweeter, the flowers were in full bloom and the grass seemed greener.

The world always seemed so much more colourful when you had a hair appointment ahead of you. "I swear this is your third hair appointment this month." Yerin's voice rings through your aux, judgy as always, but you love her for it. She's been your best friend since you could walk, if anyone was gonna call you out it was gonna be her--it could only be her. You didn't listen to anyone else.

Especially not your overprotective dad, who kept nagging you to get your engine checked since that little light kept flashing at you. You didn't see the point. You thought of yourself as a pretty good driver even though all of your passengers often fled the moment you parked, swearing to never get in a car with you again, but they always came back.

"Yeah? What's your point? These roots aren't gonna touch up themselves." Your car began to jolt, "Uhh-" You trailed off, looking down to your dashboard and scanning for a source of the issue, "What?" Yerin asks and you quickly begin to lose speed. \

Turning on your four-ways you begin to pull over on the side of the road, "My engine light is flashing red and there's smoke coming out from my hood, is that bad?" Yerin doesn't say anything, there's silence in the car until she exhales, "You need to take your car to a mechanic like yesterday."

"-But I can't take it to Wheely's, that's where Jae used to take me whenever my car needed work." This time Yerin made sure you could hear her distress with an extra long sigh, "You guys broke up almost 6 months ago, I doubt they remember you. It's not like they'll refuse service because you broke up with one of their customers."

"Okay fine. You're lucky it's close, I'll just drive-" Before your hand could even make contact with the clutch, you're interrupted by a shout, "Do not even think about moving that car, Y/n. You'll completely kill the engine. Just call a tow truck. As a matter of fact, I'll call one for you."

That brings you to where you are right now. The passenger seat of a high-rimmed tow truck with a rugged driver. He seemed miserable to you at first, hooking your car up with a lot of grunts and 'tsks' slipping through clenched teeth until he really looked at you, eyes looking you up then down, taking in your very wealthy attire.

Suddenly small talk and friendly conversation were being made. With a rocky abruption, you bounced in your seat as the truck pulled into the back alley of the shop where there were lots of other damaged cars sitting around.

You thanked him and tipped him one hundred dollars. You clearly had no general comprehension of the value of a dollar, not when it comes to tipping at least.

You stood off to the side of the open garage, against the wall, waiting for the driver to come back after he'd gone inside to notify the mechanics that your car would need to be manually rolled in.

"You're still rolling in this piece of junk, Scooter?" A voice catches your attention two more men walk out of the garage alongside the driver. It seems the driver was known as Scooter around here though you doubt that's his real name.

"Hey, you better watch it, ol'Ruby here may be a bit aged but she's got character." Scooter taps the hood of the rusty pick-up truck while the two men stand in front of him with their arms crossed, one with mint hair and the other with dark locks; both of their backs facing you, yet to notice you were standing there.

"A bit aged? I'm certain Julius Cesar could identify it." The mint-haired man jokes and the brunette laughs while Scooter rolls his eyes.

Scooter waves you over, cueing the two men to look over their shoulders, a bit shocked they hadn't noticed you standing there earlier. "This is Yoongi and Jungkook, they'll be overseeing your repairs." They finally turned and Yoongi hardly got a full glance at you before his gaze was fixated on the man beside him who couldn't look away.

Unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you but you're fairly certain you'd seen them both before. Maybe not for long as you'd only ever been at the mechanics for a few short moments while Jae dropped off your car and switched into his.

Eyes wide and alert, you resembled a deer in headlights, unable to hold the soft gaze that was being sent your way. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Yoongi reassures while Scooter gets back in his truck and pulls out.

"We need to roll it in, Jungkook and I are going to push from behind the car. Do you mind getting in the front and just steering to make sure to aim for the inside of the garage? Try to get it between the two pylons." Yoongie points into the garage where there are two markers a few meters apart.

Agreeing, you're just about to get back into the front seat when your phone rings. Both men were already in position, strong arms bracing the trunk and hunched over slightly, legs split apart, ready to bear the force back into the ground with each push, but you answered the phone instead.

Yoongi's brow arched while Jungkook just watched you.

"Y/n speaking."

It was your hairdresser, calling to see if you were still on your way as expected. Your heart sunk, you'd nearly forgotten ever since your car committed suicide and then Yerin was yelling at you.

"I'm so sorry- my car broke down and--" The boys listen intently, nosey as always. It wasn't often they had someone so interesting stroll into their quarters in the middle of the week.

"Yes, I know you're very busy and I would never want to waste your time--" You start but she interrupts you again. "No! Please don't put me on the waitlist I'll be there. I'm coming!" Hastily you get into the driver's seat and steer it in with the guys pushing behind you.

You got out nervously panicking, scrolling through all your contacts for someone to give you a ride. "Something wrong?" Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer.

"I have a hair appointment and she'd booked through for the next three months and if I'm not there in the next 15 minutes she's giving my spot away." Jungkook just stood there, while Yoongi worked on elevating the car.

Not a thought behind his eyes at your worries. You were in your own world for that to be your biggest concern but he tried to understand. "Why not get a Lyft?"

"Ew," Your hand clasps over your mouth almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--or to offend you-" Now Jungkook seemed taken aback, "Why would that offend me?" Your mouth gapes open like a fish before finally shutting.

"I'm just saying, the choice is yours. You can either get a Lyft or call the b-b-bus." He puts on a horrified expression as he chops up the last word to get it through to you. The result on your face was priceless.

"How about you give me a ride? I'll pay you." He stills, straightening his posture while his brows contorted, evidently confused. Even though Yoongi was on the opposite side of the car, crouched down on one knee, he too was confused. That wasn't an option. Jungkook is in full uniform, on the clock.

Does he get ahead of himself sometimes? Yes. The kid's got a big heart but he's not crazy, there's no way he would- "I'll get my keys." Yoongi lets his head fall in disappointment.

Jungkook led you around the back of the building then outside to the lot where he was parked and you turned to him blankly. "Which one is yours?" He unlocks the car as an answer, the headlights flashing at you. Quick on your heels you pivot to face him.

"This is your car?" Your acrylic points to the grey polished, sleek sports car that had the two doors opening on their own. "Not too shabby for the working class, huh?" He quips and you swat at his arm.

"I already said I was sorry about the Lyft thing, will you just let it go already? He snorts at how flustered you're getting, "Already? That was literally 60 seconds ago." You pout and get into the car, avoiding any further conversation.

His car smelled good, like really good. You found yourself taking deeper breaths than usual. It was hard to describe the smell but if you tried you would describe it as a bold yet comforting aroma, it almost reminded you of a man's cologne but mixed with the fresh scent of smoked leather. Sweet but musky.

"Leave some air for me." Jungkook jokes and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, he pulls out of the lot and heads for the address you gave him. "Just hurry up." You slouch back into the seat hoping the chair would consume you.

"You do realize you're basically in a Lyft right now." Jungkook points out as the ending revs and the car accelerates, cutting up traffic, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, just like you.

You ignored how attractive his driving was and zeroed in on the topic at hand. "No, this is different. I personally hired you, for the next..." You lean forward to see the GPS and the remaining time to your location, "6 minutes, you're my personal chauffeur." He just had to laugh, all those times he saw you with Jae, he'd always wondered what you'd be like.

He never would've guessed you be so full of...you. But it would be one hell of a lie if he said it didn't add to your appeal. He was no longer in dangerous waters, no no. The moment he accepted your proposition, he'd thrown himself into shark-infested waves with a pressuring current, destined to pull him to the bottom.

Jungkook pulled up to the side of the salon and you hurried got out. "Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it; oh and take care of my car!" You smile from outside the window looking in, about to leave when you reach for your phone and hand it to him.

His heart leaps from his chest. That's it? So easy? He lags for a moment, staring at your arm that was outstretched to him. "So you can tell me when my car is ready."

Oh.

"OH. Yeah. Of course." he enters in his information before handing it back to you, and the sight of your bouncy steps in your high heels and sunglasses is the last he sees of you before he makes his way back to the shop.

-

Walking into the garage he picks up an oil cloth that he knows he'll need soon. Startled, Jungkook's hand grabs his chest as Yoongi pops up from behind the car, the opened trunk shielding him from sight before. Grease-covered hands and stained attire are what he notices before his displeased expression.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't get in the front seat and back this car over you." He threatens, not a smile in sight except for the big one that spreads across Jungkook's apologetic face. "Because I'll work overtime for a week, unpaid."

Yoongi taps the wrench in his palm, thinking about it. "You were on the clock, Jeon. Make it two."

"Deal."

The two round the car to the open hood to get a better look at the engine. "Was it at least worth it? I know you've had your eyes on her since she first came in with that guy like two years ago."

"She's funny and she's beautiful. It's so over for me." Yoongi chuckles, reaching his hand into the hood, and starting the repairs. "Just ask her out, I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugs and Jungkook's head slowly turns, "This could be the love of my life, Yoongi. One wrong move and I lose my one chance, all my greatest dreams and aspirations-" Yoongi playfully closes the hood on Jungkooks fingers to shut him up.

"Alright Shakespeare, now help me get this engine out."

--

A week goes by when you are flipping through a magazine, 'What's the perfect job for you' the letters read and surprise surprise you got a model. You smiled as you placed the magazine back down on the craft services table as the photographer called you over to the center to resume the shoot.

This was for the cover of Serpahine, thankfully you weren't as nervous this time around as you were three years ago when it was your first time.

You'd been in the modelling world for a few years now, you got into it on a whim not expecting to really go anywhere with it, but the people loved you. You were only 19 when you went to your first shoot for a local retail store, fast forward six years and you'd actually driven past a billboard with your face on it this morning.

Once the shoot was done you finally reconnected with your beloved phone and saw there was a message from an unsaved number. "Your car is ready for pick up." Ah, finally.

You were sick of carpooling and hiring drivers this week, all you wanted was to finally get back behind the wheel of your own car.

The evening hadn't escaped you just yet. The sun was still out but slowly setting and casting an orange hue as you got out of the car in front of Wheeley's and dismissed them.

You could already see Jungkook from where you stood outside of the garage. Leant over the hood of another car, sleeves rolled up and tattoos on display. Just when he couldn't get any hotter.

You knocked on the wall, not sure if you could enter. He looks up with a glance before doing an immediate double take and stands to his full height. He welcomes you with a soft smile and gestures you over.

You approached him slowly, the last thing you wanted was to eat shit and land on the greasy floors in front of him.

The closer you got, the more intense his gaze became, "Wow, you look amazing." Jungkook compliments almost speechless. It was like you'd gotten even prettier from the last time he'd seen you.

Instinctively, you play with the chain of your white gold orchid necklace. It was just something you did when you were flattered or shy, in this case, a bit of both.

"Ahem." Neither of you had any idea where Yoongi had come from but he spawned and reminded Jungkook to stay focused before he vanished back into his office.

"Right. So. We assessed the damage to your engine, and the overheating engine caused the gasket to blow, causing the coolant and the oil to start mixing which is very bad." You could tell he was dumbing down the words for you and you had to stop yourself from chewing on your lower lip as he talked.

He's so hot when he talks about cars and stuff. "Are you following?" What? You thought you were doing such a good job of listening. He continued to explain what had been done and import fees and blah blah blah.

You weren't listening to a damn thing he was saying and Jungkook could tell. If he was being honest, he was hardly listening to himself, brain so warped on the fact that this was probably the last time he'd see you for a long time.

He walked you over to the register, "With the coverage you get from guardian auto insurance it reduces your initial price from 2,785.61 to 875.50." You blinked, guardian auto insurance. You had no memory of buying that, which is why you assumed your dad did and thank god for that.

Not that you couldn't afford the initial price but who would want to spend money on boring car stuff when they could go shopping? You paid and then remembered something.

"Here's your tip, for the Lyft." You smile handing him a hundred-dollar bill and he just smiles, not reaching for the money. "Aren't you gonna take it?" He shakes his head. "The car did all the work, all I did was steer. Besides, if I were you, I'd consider putting my money towards a better car."

Your hand falters, and you pout. "What's wrong with my Magma GRT?"

"I hate to say it, but this is the worst car money can buy. I see about three of these every week. For starters, the engineering of it is shit, it makes our job ten times harder. Not to mention it was wired by preschoolers, the batteries are cheap and I can guarantee you, your transmission is gonna blow sometime in the next year."

You stood there, jaw dropped.

"That's not true." You argue, feeling defensive over your sweet baby.

Jungkook guides you over to the hood of the car he had just been working on. "I'll take everything back if you can show me where the engine is."

You stood there for a solid minute, really giving it hard thought. "It's right here." You hold up the middle finger in front of his face before walking away and he laughs taking long strides to catch up to your furious pace.

"Where is my car, anyway?" Jungkook leads you around the back where the completed cars sit with a ticket on the windshield. He watched you excitedly hop into the driver's seat and run your hands over the wheel, then touching the fuzzy orchids that hung from your mirror.

You started it up and she sounded better than ever. You got out and fought the urge to do a little dance but you lost. It was cute, adorable really. "Thank you!" Without even thinking you placed a quick peck on his cheek before you returned to your car, honking at him twice before you sped off.

His fingers lightly grazed the cheek your lips had just met. His vision started to blur, he was about to faint. And then the doom settled in his stomach, you were gone.

--

"Let's take 5 everyone. Y/n, a minute." The head photographer calls you over. "What's going on? You seem out of it, and you can't be out of it. Not until this shoot is done, at least. I've got bills to pay too."

It's been a few weeks since you'd gotten your car fixed but now everything else felt broken. Suddenly a new outfit didn't put a smile on your face, and the buzz you got from a night out at the bar didn't compare to the flames you felt with the few moments you had with that pretty mechanic.

You shake away the thoughts and apologize, reassuring him that you'd get your head back in the game.

--

It's been a month.

He hasn't texted you, which isn't crazy considering you gave him your number for repair purposes only. Though it did make you sad to know he ignored the resource he had to contact you. Then again the phone did work both ways.

You were spiralling, just a tad.

Besides, you didn't want to text him, you needed to see him, but you can't just show up to a mechanic for no reason...

You paced around your room until your gaze landed on your car keys.

You shake your head.

No.

That's crazy.

You grab the keys anyway.

After a quick Google search, you concluded that this evening you would be making an impromptu trip to the gas station. Your tank holds about 30 liters so you pumped it with 35.

Once you got back in the car, just as Google said, your check engine light was on. At least this time it wasn't red.

"Oh no, looks like I've gotta get a check-up."

-

You pulled onto the lot with a mischievous grin, you weren't sure how you were going to pull this off but you had to.

Parking outside the open garage, you locked the car before walking in, looking around for any signs of anyone but it was empty--

"Back so soon?" You turn, face to face with the same face you'd been wanting to see for weeks. "Well yeah, I-"

The loud engine of that familiar tow truck came roaring up the driveway. A loud horn caught your attention. "Come on Jeon, roadside call ain't gonna solve itself!" Scooter shouts and Jungkook visibly gulps, looking between the two of you with a panicked gaze.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Yoongi is in his office, he can help you."

Your shoulders slumped and your pout was prominent. Let this be the first and last time you ever stuck your neck out for a man.

-

A few days had passed when Jungkook sent you the invoice for your repairs. Your eyes analyzed the familiar statement of reduction showing that Guardian Auto Insurance saved you another 600 dollars.

You sighed.

You completed the transaction online and made sure to avoid him at all costs when you picked up your car. Unable to face him after he had blown you off. Even though you know it wasn't intentional, it was still humiliating.

The following weeks may not have been anything special for you but were most certainly eventful for Yerin. "I warned you not to dance on top of that bar." You joke as you walk Yerin out of the emergency room with a slight hangover while she has a cast on her left arm.

After driving her back to her place, not a silent ride at that, even on three different pain killers she was still whining about this curb and that curb, 'watch out for that pedestrian' she would yell as if you didn't have eyes.

"How am I supposed to get to work tomorrow." She sulks, resting her cast on a nearby couch cushion. "I can take you." You offer and she glares, "I guess I wasn't clear. I need to make it in one piece." You rolled your eyes.

"I'll just take my car, driving with one hand can't be that hard." She shrugs.

"It's not, but you're not left-handed. It's a bad idea." You warn but she is more stubborn than you are.

-

It was only around 10 am the following morning when you received a message from Yerin. She attached an image of her car, it looked normal aside from the missing side mirror.

Oh boy.

'I told you so.' You send her and she replies with a middle finger.

'Now it's your turn to go to Wheeley's and make sure to use your guardian auto insurance. Saves a ton.'

She gives you a thumbs up.

Talking about that shop made your mind wander. You wonder how Jungkook was doing. It's been a while since you last saw him. Sometimes you regret not sticking around for him to come back, or even avoiding him to pick up your car.

But maybe this was for the best.

Besides, you were just a customer. One of many. You're sure he's forgotten all about you.

-

Your phone buzzes once, then twice, pulling you out of the realm of peace and tranquillity that your nap had rolled you into. You'd fallen asleep on the couch while reruns of your favourite movie passed by on your screen. "Hello?"

"Guardian Auto Insurance my ass. I was charged $450. I asked Yoongi to double check and he said apparently that doesn't even exist." Slowly sitting up, you try to make sense of it.

How's that possible? If it doesn't exist then who made it up?-

Oh shit.

You quickly finish the call with Yerin, and check the time. The shop would close in about an hour, you had little time to get ready before you made your way there.

Pulling into the driveway so late at night made your headlights seem like spotlights, bouncing off every reflective surface in sight. Catching Jungkook's attention as he wasn't expecting anyone this late at night.

In his fitted jumpsuit, he watched the car pull up closer to the garage, shining the bright light in his face until the engine was shut off. He'd seen this car hundreds of times. He couldn't get his hopes up, but the second your red bottoms hit the concrete his heart was pounding.

You were headed right towards him.

You looked angry- no, upset, no-

"When were you gonna tell me that there's really no Guardian Auto Insurance and that you've been covering 80% of my costs out of your own pocket?" You definitely sounded angry but your gaze seemed... soft.

You stopped right in front of him, face to face. Your breathing was heavy and your brows furrowed as your eyes danced between both of his deep brown, apologetic ones. "I-"

"Just shut up." Grabbing a gentle hold of his cheeks in your hands, you pulled his lips down to meet yours. It took Jungkook a second to process what was going on but once his brain caught up, so did his hands.

He held you securely at the waist, tugging you into him until your front was against his and he worked his tongue with yours. Your heads tilted slightly to deepen the kiss.

You always knew he'd be a great kisser, but this was taking your breath away. Literally. You pulled away from him, lungs reaching for a much-needed dose of oxygen while Jungkook did the same. His gaze was much darker.

"You and this stupid uniform. I want to finally see what's underneath-" Reaching for his buttons, you're able to get the first four undone with a few stray kisses to his neck that send Jungkook absolutely reeling. A soft moan escapes him before he pulls back.

"Wait. Wait, I have something for you." He disappears into one of the offices before coming back with a bouquet of orchids. Your gasp is genuine.

"Yoongi said a friend of yours was in the shop earlier and I'd already been thinking about you non-stop so I just took it as a sign to reach out. I was actually going to bring these to you later once the shop closed. I noticed you had orchids on your necklace and in your car so I just thought you'd like them." You give them a sniff. "I love them. They were actually my mom's favourite flower before she passed."

He frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that," you give him a sad smile, "Thank you, it means a lot. Really. But we can talk about that later," You place the flowers behind you on the trunk of the car. Jungkook grins.

"You're very direct aren't you." You shrug. "You'll get used to it."

He walks up to you, looking down at you with the six inches his head carried over yours. "Oh, will I?" You nod with unwavering confidence. "Unless you can't handle it-" A big, gentle hand is placed around your neck, no pressure applied until he speaks, "I'm not the one who needs to be worried about."

With that said he slowly sinks himself to his knees, big hands reaching under your ruffled skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You gasp as you feel him slowly drag a finger along the soaked fabric of your panties.

"Please, Jungkook." The harmonious sound of you begging rattled him to his core. With no self-restraint, he would do anything you asked. "Don't worry princess, I've got you. Gonna take good care of you." he pulls down the only thing keeping him from your soaked cunt and a low growl rumbles in his chest at the sight.

He helps you to step out of your panties with your heels still on, he couldn't let your bare feet touch the floors. You open your hand for the garment but you roll your eyes at the sight of him pocketing them in his uniform. You already know you'll never see them again and you accept it.

He has you bunch up your skirt around your waist for better sight. Smoothly he places one leg over his shoulder while your body rests against the trunk of the car. The grip he holds on your left thigh is tight enough to make your brain spin and surely marks will follow.

"See. I always knew I'd have you on your knees for me one d-AY. Oh fuck!" Jungkook can't be bothered to bark back at you not when he has an insatiable appetite and a full meal right in front of him.

His jaw worked itself as he lapped up at your center. Tongue long and warm, licking every square inch of you until you couldn't take it, hands reaching desperately for his hair and he groaned.

Once he finally had you where he wanted you, reduced to nothing but begs and whimpers, he allowed his tongue to flick over your clit repeatedly, until he felt half of your body weight fall onto his right shoulder for a moment.

You could hardly even keep yourself up. He was going to make sure you remembered this. "Oh shit! P-please Jungkook. M'So close." He groans, his right hand pressing down on the solid bulge in his pants for a little relief.

Your slick was running down his chin, some even down the sides of his neck as he worked you with his tongue. Writhing nonstop, though this wouldn't be an issue if he had a better environment. He'd have you pinned and unable to run from him.

To finish you off he let his teeth graze so lightly over your clit, you almost wouldn't feel it had he not heightened your senses to such an extreme with his intricate pussy eating.

You came with his name falling off your lips.

Your face turns beet red as he tells you to look down at the mess you made on the ground below you. "What were you saying earlier? Something about me being on my knees for you-"

"Just fuck me already." Jungkook stands back up to his full height, clicking his tongue with tsk' sounds. "I pay for your repairs, I buy you flowers, I make you cum and this is how you talk to me? Where are your manners." Jungkook adjusts your skirt so it's back in place and he picks you up to sit on the trunk.

"Besides. I'm not fucking you in here. I wanna take you out first." You smile at that, "Finally, a smile." He remarks, and your body limps forward naturally, your arms wrapping around his neck while your head settles in the crook of his neck and your eyes flutter shut. You ignore his previous statement until he whispers in your ears. "You do realize the garage was open this whole time, and anyone who drove by got a front-row show?" Your eyes shoot open.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 6

Part 5

Most of the time, being the son of Batman was a point of pride for Damian. Today, it was an exercise in frustration. Not only had Father deemed him too emotionally compromised to participate in the investigation of his so-called brother. Not only was he benched from patrol until Batman returned from abroad. He also had to continue attending school as if nothing had happened! He could probably teach most of the classes better than the adults! Oh, but ‘socializing with his peers’ was deemed too important to miss out on.

No wonder Damian was in a foul mood when he returned home. It had been the last school day before fall break, and a week ago he had been looking forward to the opportunity to patrol without having to worry about getting up early in the morning. Then that damned apparition had dropped the bombshell that had upended all of Damian’s carefully laid plans. Now half of the family was off chasing leads and he was stuck at home cooling his heels. It wasn’t fair!

After doing his customary check on his pets, he had changed into training gear as soon as possible and was now in the process of running through the latest combat program Father had designed. The flow of dodge-weave-counter-strike was helping him vent his frustration and clear his head. And if the training bots ended up more damaged than usual, well that just served Father right. He wasn’t some hapless child to be grounded!

Spin. Strike. Jump. Slash. He was moving on instinct, letting his training take over. A symphony of violence the background track to his churning thoughts, the questions that had been plaguing him all week.

Brother of blood. What did that mean? A full brother? A half brother? The result of some ill-advised dalliance of his Father? Unlikely. The letter had been addressed to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne. A deliberate choice of words, most likely. A child of his Mother then. He couldn’t imagine Mother would sully herself with another man’s touch. Even after everything, she still loved Father in her own twisted way. Unless Grandfather had ordered her… Stop it!

Stab. Crouch. Roll. Slice.

Never buried but already mourned. Not a lab grown creation then, to be discarded casually. Mourning meant caring. Love. Did Father know something? The haunted look that had appeared in his eyes spoke of old grief. The same grief that still plagued him when memories of Todd or Damian’s death were close to the surface. But he had never spoken of another child. Would he even bother to tell them?

Strike. Throw. Close distance. Disarm.

Lightning and ice. Defibrillation? Some horror movie style reanimation? Cryofreeze? The entity had meta abilities, could it harness lightning and ice as well? A better son, a more powerful Demon’s Heir… No!

Side-step. Kick. Twist. Leg-sweep.

Strike down the Demon’s Head. Did that mean Grandfather? Or Damian himself if the old man died first? It would be just like Grandfather to arrange for Damian to be killed and replaced by a brother. To get revenge for Damian choosing Batman’s legacy over the League’s while hurting their family in the most intimate way possible. Killed by a brother he should have loved, who should have loved him… Fool!

Damian stopped as the gong sounded to mark the end of the program. Around him, the training bots returned to their starting positions, now significantly worse for wear. A few of them were disabled to the point of uselessness.

Damian sheathed his weapons and forced his breathing to slow as he started his cool down stretches. It wouldn’t do to be careless because of some emotional episode. He was more disciplined than that.

What could Death earn anyway? Death brought nothing but nightmares and pain and torment.

Damian shivered. He didn’t like thinking about his Death.

Shoving the memories firmly aside, he returned his training weapons to their respective places before heading over to the Batcomputer. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should call up Jon and see if he had any plans for fall break. Since Damian was benched he would need something constructive to do with his time. Surely with the two of them working together they would find some kind of criminal enterprise to topple in a Kansas cornfield.

Damian compiled the search strings for any unusual activity in the area and set it to run. Now it was a waiting game to see if anything of note turned up. Leaning back, he idly kicked the console, sending his chair into a lazy spin. If nothing turned up in Kansas, maybe he would widen his search to the surrounding states. If they flew Air Superboy, distance would hardly be an issue. Hell, if Jon was busy maybe he could go visit Richard. Bludhaven was never lacking in crime, and Father wouldn’t be able to complain about a lack of appropriate supervision during patrol. With Drake and Todd having left on a ‘roadtrip’ for at least a day…

Damian stopped his spinning and frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was highly unusual for his two older brothers to have left Gotham together and in their civilian identities. Especially with the Bats already shorthanded due to Father’s absence and Robin’s benching. He had been too distracted by the upcoming school day to make the connection when his brothers had mentioned their plans at breakfast that morning. And Drake had been investigating League activity… Damian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing Drake’s security protocols with ease. If his brother had uncovered a League connection he had a right to know!

What he found among Drake’s recent search history was not what he expected. Some crackpot scientists from Illinois? That’s what had drawn his attention? Certainly, the older Robin had flagged some suspicious transactions and marked the Fentons as potential threats based on their inventions, but there were heroes closer to Amity Park that they could have foisted the investigation off on.

Damian drummed his fingers against his armrest. Something wasn’t adding up here. Pulling up everything he could find about the Fenton parents, he started looking through medical records, school records, articles… Suddenly, Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs. There, on the cover of a two year old magazine, was the face that had haunted him all week. With trembling fingers, he zoomed in on the image. It only took a few minutes to alter the hair and eye colour. It was unmistakably him. The boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Damian himself, if slightly older and paler.

Swallowing hard, Damian scrolled through the magazine’s online archive to find the article mentioned on the title page. An almost extinct gorilla species. A chance discovery by then fourteen year old Daniel Fenton.

“Daniel,” Damian rolled the name around his mouth. A fairly common Western name. “Daniel. Danyal?” If he was Talia’s son, surely she would have used the Arabic version… no! He was jumping to conclusions!

Now having a name to go on, Damian dug deeper than Drake had bothered to. The birth certificate named a small town in Utah, but there were no records of a hospital admission. A home birth? There were no records of the Fentons having a residence in that state. No medical records of prenatal care either, though there were for the birth of the older sibling. Had the pregnancy gone unnoticed? Possible, if unlikely. There had been a vehicle registration for a motorhome during that time period though. Had the Fentons been living on the road when their son was born? Or had they acquired the child some other way? If he was an Al Ghul who would have spirited him away to the USA?

The Fentons had settled down in Amity Park about six months after Daniel’s birth, purchasing the residence they apparently used to this day. From there, his records were fairly standard and unremarkable, though there were a higher than average number of doctor’s visits for minor household accidents. Not enough to get flagged by CPS, but certainly worrying if potential mad science was involved. Daniel’s school records showed average grades, with higher scores in Maths and Science. At age fourteen however, his academic performance took a sharp dip, with an uneven performance on tests and numerous unexcused absences. His teachers noted frequent inattentiveness in class or Daniel outright falling asleep. Someone had submitted reports of bullying and suspicious bruises, but the case was dropped and never followed up on. His grades had evened out since then, but the unexcused absences persisted.

Damian knew enough about the trials and tribulations of teenage superheroics to recognize a pattern. And it certainly looked like Daniel fit the bill. If he had acquired meta abilities two years ago it probably took some time to get a handle on them and find a balance between his legal and illegal activities.

Damian steepled his fingers together. There was only so much his digital investigation could reveal. It was time for some fieldwork.

Part 7

[thescarletnargacuga]

CHANDELIER

A HARLEQUIN AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

AU credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

Inspired by THIS

WARNING: alcohol and a bit suggestive

Caine slouched heavily in his chair as he drained an entire bottle of liquor in his mouth. The bitter liquid sloshed over his teeth, dribbled down his chest and over his exposed heart. The numbing rush of alcohol relaxed him further. He tossed the empty bottle, and it shattered against the pile of other empties. He groaned into the silence of his study as he stretched. "Finally...a good buzz." He leaned his chair back with his feet up on his desk with the intent on taking a short nap.

The door slammed open with the force of a raging bull. "CAINE!!"

He jumped and the chair fell backwards. His legs folded over his head, landing ass up. "Hello Pomni, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He was muffled from his own body weight holding down his mouth.

"You know DAMN well why I'm here!" She threw her sword unceremoniously onto his desk, it was warped and covered in strange burn marks. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SWORD!?" She was seething from every pore.

Caine struggled to right himself. He flopped over on his side and slowly climbed the desk to his knees. He blinked the haze from his eyes and focused on the heavily damaged weapon in front of him. He was pretty far gone and his memory was as clear as a foggy day at sea. "Uh....I don't know...." He answered honestly.

She grabbed him by the collar from her side of the desk and yanked him to his feet. She spoke through her teeth, her eyes promised death. "What do you mean you don't know? It didn't magically end up like this."

That sobered him up a bit. "Actually, now that you mention it, that is probably exactly how it ended up like that. I think I was tinkering and I had some ideas to improve your weapon." He chuckled nervously.

"Let me get this straight. You STOLE my sword. BROKE it. Then PUT IT BACK LIKE I WOULDN'T NOTICE!?" She was ready to start kicking him across the manor.

Caine snapped into survival mode. "POMNI, Pomni, whatever happened can be fixed, I assure you. I just need some time, alright? I don't remember anything after I started tinkering. I- uh...." He looked to the side.

Pomni's eyes followed his to the pile of broken bottles. She let go of him and he dropped to the desk top chest first. "Are you kidding me? You were drinking while working?? What is WRONG with you!?"

He stood and fixed his shirt. "A lot, my dear. But we aren't ready for that conversation." He picked up the damaged sword and examined it as best he could through his drunken stupor. He couldn't make heads or tails of what he had done, but it was bad. The sword's structural integrity was completely compromised and was barely in one piece. He put it back down and took another bottle out of the top drawer of his desk.

Pomni snatched the bottle. "What are you doing? You need to fix my sword!"

"My dear, even if I sobered up right this second, I'm afraid that sword is useless. The damage is far too extensive. I'll have to forge you a whole new one, and that will take time."

"WHAT!?!? You-! Why-! ARGH!" She tore the cork out of the bottle with her teeth and started chugging. It was either do that or kill Caine, but if she did that, she'd have no sword.

Caine breathed a sigh of relief. That was the closest he'd been to death in awhile. He brought out yet another bottle and leaned against the desk to top off his lost drunkenness.

Pomni got half way through her bottle before she took a breath. She steadied herself against the desk next to Caine, taking a few more swigs of the strong drink.

Caine set his bottle down as the alcohol poured against his heart. "I'm sorry, Pomni. I promise you'll have a new sword as soon as possible. You have my word."

Pomni scoffed. "As if your word means much."

Caine looked down. "It's...not what it used to be. Like a lot of things. But, when I say I'll do something for you, I mean it. I hope you can trust me that far."

Pomni wiped a dribble of drink from her chin. "I trust you enough to know you'll save your own skin by making me a new sword."

"...fair enough." He threw the newly emptied bottle on the pile.

A stiff silence fell between them. Pomni polished off her bottle and she started to feel lighter. The anger successfully drowned and she felt more relaxed. "You got more?" She added her bottle to the collection of the broken and empty.

Caine went to a bookshelf and pulled a huge tome from its place. He opened it to reveal two purple bottles hidden in the pages. "As if that's really a question." He smirked and handed her one as he took the other for himself. He put the large book back. "This is a special blend. My own creation. Don't let the size of bottle fool you, it packs a hell of a punch."

"Don't worry, Caine. When it comes to you, size has never mattered." She said dryly.

He dropped his bottle in his mouth, losing grip in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean??" He coughed.

Pomni laughed at his flustered reaction. "I refuse to elaborate." She threw back her drink. The liquid made her feel warm from the inside out. She swayed in place as the alcohol took effect and the world started to tilt. "God, you weren't kidding. This is....wow."

"I'm afraid that was the last in my study, but there's plenty more in the lounge." He dramatically offered his arm to her like a gentleman. "Shall I escort you, my dear?"

She shoved him away by the face. "No." She unsteadily showed herself out, Caine trailing behind.

They tore the lounge apart looking for the secret stashes Caine had hidden everywhere. Bottle after bottle, they downed everything they found until they were chasing each other around like children for each find.

"Give it to me!" Pomni tackled Caine's legs and he tripped. The bottle rolled under a lounger and they scrambled after it. Caine shoved Pomni to the side and stuck his arm under the furniture. He almost had it when Pomni grabbed his ankles and dragged him out of reach. "I said that's mine!"

"I found it first!" Caine kicked his legs free and used his cane to fish the bottle out of its hiding place. The bottle rolled over a rug and he tried to grab the corner to pull it closer but Pomni got the other end first. They tug-of-wared with the rug. Caine braced himself against a heavy table from the floor and Pomni leaned her whole body weight from a standing position. The table leg gave out, forcing Caine to let go of the rug to save himself from the falling table. Pomni stumbled backwards from her own strength. The rug whipped the bottle up into the air and it got caught in the chandelier. They both looked at the out of reach drink and then each other.

"MINE!" Pomni got to her feet quickly and starting climbing the furniture. She jumped, completely missed and belly flopped in the fountain.

Caine lost his mind with laughter. "Please, tell me that wasn't your plan? You're better than that."

Pomni gave Caine a dirty look as she rolled out of the fountain, soaked, and drunkenly ran at the wall. She did a perfect wall jump entirely by chance and grabbed the bottom of the chandelier. "Wooo!" She cheered as she swung.

Caine climbed on a ornate dresser, getting himself just within reach of Pomni's legs. "Hold tight!" He grabbed on and started climbing her.

"Wha- HEY!" She tried to shake him off without letting go of the chandelier. She couldn't make that wall jump twice in a row if she tried.

"Hold still! You're making this difficult!" He used what little focus he had left to keep his grip on her respectful. Her wet clothes clung to her figure and he did his best to imagine he was just climbing a weird screaming rope.

"YOU'RE the one making this difficult! I can't climb up with you holding me down! Let go!" Her grip held fast but she couldn't hold it forever.

"Give me a minute, woman! You're so impatient!" He wrapped his legs around her waist to free his arms and reach the chandelier himself. Pomni was too focused on her target to really think about the position they were in. Caine released his leg lock on her when he had a good hold on the chandelier. "There. Better?"

"Much." She kicked him.

"OW! Why!?" He angled his hips away from her keep his groin clear of her wrath.

"A lot of reasons, but mostly because I felt like it." She started hoisting herself up.

Caine struggled from his position. The swinging of the chandelier mixed with the copious amount of drink he had that day made him feel dizzy.

Pomni stood on the chandelier, holding onto the chain connected to the ceiling for balance, and claimed her prize. "Yes!" She held the bottle up, victorious. "I told you it was mine!" She started swinging the chandelier, watching Caine struggle to hold on. "Having fun down there!?"

Caine narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh yeah? You wanna swing!? Let's SWING!" He fought through the dizziness out of pure spite and swung his legs with the chandelier, making it arc higher and higher until it was apexing mere inches from the ceiling.

Pomni held tight but her own drunken state made balancing on a violently swinging pendulum nearly impossible. She slipped and her legs caught as she hung outside down in front of Caine. She still held onto the bottle.

Caine kicked off the ceiling when the chandelier swung to the highest point, pushing them down even faster. The force of the swing sent the chandelier crashing into the ceiling on the other side. Caine used the momentum to grab the bottle and fall away from Pomni. She watched in shock as she swung away with the chandelier, legs still stuck. He blew her a kiss goodbye and fell back first into the fountain with her bottle.

Pomni frantically tried to free herself. Her legs were stuck tight but she managed to wiggle them free as the chandelier swung back around towards Caine.

Caine pulled himself out of the fountain. Drenched and disheveled, he sat on the edge with his prize. "Finally-" He was tackled from above by the mistle that was Pomni. They both went into the fountain again. The water wasn't deep but it was enough to submerge in when laying down. They thrashed like angry sharks as they both had a hold on the bottle and wrestled wet tooth and nail to keep it.

Caine managed to stand up again, trying to pull the bottle from Pomni but she used his force against him. She lunged forward, pushing him off balance and over the edge of the fountain. She kept her hold on the bottle so she fell with him. Caine laid out on the floor with his arms over his head, his hands held down under the bottle and Pomni. She straddled his waist to keep him from rolling away. Caine couldn't move but still had grip on the bottle. Pomni had Caine immobilized because she held the bottle down on him, she couldn't move either or he'd get away.

"It seems...we're at...a stalemate." Caine gasped.

"Yeah...again." Pomni was just as out of breath.

Caine gave a breathy chuckle. "We really need to stop meeting like this." He looked up at her with a smile. He wasn't going to complain in the slightest about how the fight ended.

Pomni got a mischievous glint in her eye and leaned forward. Her face inches from his. "Why? Sick of me already?"

His eyes widened and he felt the heat in his chest rush to his face. He couldn't stop himself from stealing a glance at her lips. "Never. I-..." He stopped himself. He shouldn't say it. He was drunk, not stupid. Pomni leaned closer. Now only a whisper away, if he moved even a centimeter, he'd touch her. He felt her boozed breath on his gums.

"You what? What's on that clever mind of yours?" Her voice was a sultry whisper that sent shivers down Caine's entire being. The heat is his face decreased in favor of being elsewhere in that moment. He lost himself in her eyes, she was rarely this close to him without trying to also kill him.

"I...I-" He couldn't get more that out before Pomni was gone. She snatched the bottle from his loosened grip and rolled away from him. Caine laid there stunned over what just happened.

Pomni popped the cork, dropped herself on the nearest comfortable surface and took a victory swig.

"That vixen." Caine muttered under his breath. He couldn't believe it. She'd successfully used a mind game against him. He was both incredibly proud and ashamed that it worked. He sat up and gave her a slow clap. "Well done. Very well done, my dear. You've earned that drink."

She held the bottle up to him in salute. "You put up a hell of a fight for it. Is this your last one or something?"

"Nope." He hit his elbow against the base of the fountain and another compartment opened to reveal several more bottles. He took one and poured a small amount over his tongue.

Pomni gaped. She shouldn't be surprised, but that made her question how many hidden spots there had to be all over the manor if there were this many just in the lounge. She looked around, taking in the damage they did to the room. From the hole in the ceiling where the chandelier crashed into it to the broken furniture to the soaked floor around the fountain. "Ragatha's gonna have a cow when she sees this."

Caine shrugged. "She'll get over it. It's just stuff. Stuff can be fixed."

"Unlike us." Pomni sighed and leaned her head back.

"Hey now, don't start depression spiraling on me." Caine went to her and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled forward into him as she found her footing. He had one hand on her, one on a bottle. "I think there's plenty more trouble we could get ourselves into. This is supposed to be freeing, my dear."

"It has been. I managed to kick your ass didn't I?" She grinned.

"Only because you resorted to low dirty tactics." He grumbled

She looked at him smugly. "You enjoyed it."

"Did not."

"Do I have your word on that?" She smirked.

His words caught in his throat.

Pomni chuckled. "Thought so."

"You're going to be the death of me." Caine resigned.

They stumbled off together to find entertainment elsewhere, arms over each other. After they left the room, the damaged chandelier finally came loose from the ceiling and crashed to the floor.

[messiahzzz]

while it’s perfectly fine to have your own headcanons that are non-canon compliant — by all means, go wild. recognizing pieces of yourselves in fictional characters can be a very healing and validating experience. this is nonetheless a casual, well-intentioned reminder that gale, in fact, does not have bpd.

bpd is a pervasive pattern of instability affecting interpersonal relationships, self-image, and mood. the disorder is marked by impulsivity beginning in early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts. a diagnosis requires at least 5 of the following 9 criteria to be met:

Fear of abandonment

Unstable or changing relationships

Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors (e.g., excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).

Suicidal behavior or self-injury

Varied or random mood swings

Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

source: [x]

i highlighted the criteria that do apply to gale in one way or another in a pretty purple.

i personally believe that it’s rather harmful to equate his relationship with mystra with her being “his fp”. she is a deity, his goddess, and the source of his powers, who is in in full control of the magic he wields.

gale: mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.

gale has been effectively groomed and conditioned to serve and revere her at every turn since early childhood. imo this comparison really undermines a lot of crucial points in gale’s story that deal with his overall trauma and abuse. after all, you wouldn’t call shar sh*dowhe*rt’s fp either.

gale doesn’t revile mystra, nor does he commit benevolent deeds solely motivated by the secret hope that she will somehow notice and take him back. when you meet gale in the game he has already fully come to terms with the fact that he has been abandoned by mystra with no hope of reconciliation whatsoever. he also had some very fitting lines in ea regarding this topic that i'm sad haven't been repurposed in the full release in some way.

gale: [the tadpoles] don't know that some things are impossible. they don't know that... they don't know. player: what is impossible about what you're being shown? gale: forgiveness. gale: it is mystra i see. and yet it cannot be her. there was a time when i would have believed - but no longer. gale: suffice it to say she would not bestow upon me the favors promised in these dreams. that is how i know they are delusions.

he has already reached the stage of acceptance. moreover, gale only starts to realize that mystra might have been in the wrong for requesting his death once the tadpole squad & tav speak some sense into him. and even then he doesn’t ever show that his emotions regarding mystra are anywhere along those lines. he is instead rightfully angered that she only saw value in his death, after he had been worshipping her loyally for years.

gale: i worshipped mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power i was ready to wield. gale: even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. she's done nothing to help us.

gale: you abandoned me in my hour of greatest need. i had no obligation to help you in yours. gale: because you had no right to ask that of me. you cast me out, remember?

gale doesn’t display rapid changes in mood either. he is a character who is generally very composed and has been known to remain nonchalant even in the face of utter horror. tim downie himself even commented on this once. source: [x]

the only instance i can think of is his sudden switch from resigned-to-death to utter-eye-sparkling-enthusiasm once he spots the crown of karsus. apart from crucial story reasons that i won’t touch upon in this post, i’d also like to add that it’s a rather common phenomenon for people who have just barely survived a suicide attempt to suddenly be filled with zeal and unbridled energy. he doesn't display impulsivity without thorough consideration when it comes to its acquisition either. he considers this a golden opportunity and is positively enthusiastic and elated that this might prove an alternative to him ending up in a cloud of netherese smoke. nonetheless, he knows what he is doing. evident in him actually succeeding in ascending in one of his endings.

gale: this is no passing whim, trust me. if i can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. it is not a decision i'll take lightly. gale: it's our future that i'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to do it for us. gale: for now - we've learned all we can.

neither are his relationships that we do know of (namely elminster, tara, and morena) frequently changing. they are marked by years of mutual respect, care, and consistency. there is nothing unstable about them. while it's important to note that his relationship with tav is still in its honeymoon stages during the main game, there is no inclination of any push-and-pull dynamic between them whatsoever.

gale isn’t preoccupied with keeping up some sort of benevolent act in order to win (back) affection — he genuinely IS a good person and he proves this at every turn. moreover, to have a tressym become your familiar you must be of Good alignment.

(taken from tumblr user galedekarios's post.)

there is never a moment where his ideals or alignment suddenly change. in fact, i’d argue that he and wyll are most consistent in this regard when compared to the rest of the companions. gale makes his moral standpoint very clear from the beginning on and also explicitly states that he believes that in order to survive this entire ordeal it would be selfish of him if he wouldn’t be willing to compromise on his morals. this isn’t a sudden bout of ✨muahahaha wizard hubris✨ that he barely contained to hold in before, this is yet another act of selflessness — it is what he’s willing to do for the group and subsequently, the welfare of faerun.

player: i love unsavoury things. don't feel guilty on my account. gale: that's good to know. although i should say i do what i do out of a sense of utility and pragmatism, not a love of the unsavoury. gale: we're up against the greatest threat faerun has ever faced. i don't mind getting my hands dirty if it gives us a better chance of surviving. gale: whatever advantage i can gain for us. i will. and i refuse to feel guilty for it, no matter how much mystra's chidings might echo in my skull.

this is him, once again trying to be useful in whatever way he can. to give them an advantage, a slither of hope against seemingly impossible odds, so they might make it out of this in one piece. gale wouldn’t approve of those actions under normal circumstances, but their predicament is as far from any definition of “normal” as it can get.

gale is no fool, he realizes this is essentially about survival. he knows that he has no option left other than to tolerate, which is why he can be convinced to not immediately depart tav’s company even if they choose to commit atrocities. this is no character flaw of his or him displaying a previously dormant openness for cruelty, this is about recognizing the necessity.

player: you don't stand a chance alone. you're free to go. i dare you. gale: gods damn you - you're right. few things are more powerful than the will to live.

gale: i thought the orb to be the greatest of my sins, but i see now that there are darker depths to which i might yet sink. you may be content to sink into that abyss, but i assure you - i am not.

gale doesn’t lead a split existence. he has a very strong sense of identity. he knows what he wants, what he doesn’t want and he isn’t shy in expressing his boundaries either. which he has especially shown when it comes to his relationship with tav. i originally had intended to touch upon this in another post entirely but: i firmly believe his entire Gale of Waterdeep™ persona is more of a performance than him struggling to find a sense of identity and trying them on for size. it is an intentional decision to separate gale dekarios from the great wizard of waterdeep, to create distance and make sure his family name remains untarnished in case things should ever go sideways.

gale: i agree. and on the plus side, if i get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

there is also a deep-rooted feeling of unworthiness and his firm belief that love and praise are conditional resources that he will only be granted through his talents alone, naturally. presenting himself as gale dekarios, the man, would mean highlighting his shortcomings and very human flaws, while distracting from the aspects of himself that are deemed praiseworthy, the ones that actually matter: his magical prowess.

i personally believe that part of the beauty of gale’s story is him realizing just how “little” it takes for him to be truly content. he gets his happy ending, with someone at his side who truly sees him, understands him and unabashedly commits to him. they worship and adore him in return — and it is well deserved. he isn’t reduced to be constantly and restlessly searching for some unattainable ideal to fill the gaping void within himself. he doesn’t secretly thirst for more power still or believes that in being with tav he is settling for something. instead, he is finally happy to just be. be and be accepted. teaching a class of unruly wizards and coming home to his spouse each day already fulfills him.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

even if he doesn’t pursue a romance with tav, he reaches a realization of “oh, it appears i am not irredeemably flawed and only able to reach true redemption through my own death. what i needed was actually with me all along.” throughout their journey and through his friend's support. i think that’s a very powerful and comforting message. he is very well capable of finding peace within himself.

devnotes: his default state is that he returned to waterdeep and became a professor of illusory magic at his former school, blackstaff academy. general vibe here is that this is a gale who's found peace with himself - he's a great teacher, one his students are mostly in awe of.

to repeat myself: sharing your headcanons is all in good fun, nor should you ever be discouraged from doing so. this is your personal tumblr experience, after all. but i personally think we should be mindful of unintentionally perpetuating negative stereotypes, such as narcissism being a general indicator or being deemed a classic depiction of bpd. i think we can all agree that the continuous longing for acceptance, connection, praise, and approval is something we all have in common deep down, regardless of whatever disorder we may have. [insert victoria justice meme here]

gale may be many things to many people, but he is no entitled narcissist.

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Jumping on the headcanons bandwagon: do you have any for professor Sharp? Love your work, this is one of my favourite blogs.

A/N: I'm happy you enjoy my work 😌 💕

AESOP SHARP HEADCANONS

Sorted to Slytherin

Quiet and reserved, but not shy, just heavily introverted

He was a quick study of DADA, charms and potions; top of the class

Struggled with transfiguration, a bit too technical for his liking

Always wanted to be an auror, most of his family members were

Had one best friend in school, they both strived to be aurors

Never had a girlfriend in school; he didn't understand the romantic obsession some teenagers had, he likes his alone time

Graduated with high marks and went straight to auror training

It was his mentor that taught him "Shortcuts only lead to shortcomings"

This is where his lack of interpersonal skills hurt him; he could track and fight dark wizards till the stars themselves fell, but calm a distraught person over the death of a loved one? ....nope. awkward as hell.

And office politics at the Ministry? Actual hell. Hated the lot of them.

Except one

A young secretary working for one of the higher ups, she was one of the few people he could stand to be around without losing his mind

He found himself making excuses to go see her or finding the most mundane reasons to go talk to her

His best friend turned work partner knew right away what was happening, would tease him endlessly about it

She made the first move to go on a date; nothing fancy, just a casual lunch date

They never made it back to work from talking for so long

Both of them got writeups but didn't care

He knew within months of knowing her that he wanted to marry her

He proposed privately in his family's garden, just them and the spring butterflies

He was on top of the world; being one of the best aurors the Ministry had and about to marry the love of his life

....but we all know it doesn't end that way

December 31, 1875

He and his partner were ambushed while on assignment

His partner, his best friend, dies

Death curse to the chest, his eyes frozen wide with surprise

Aesop fights off a total of 35 dark wizards single handedly, being critically injured in the process

He holds his fallen partner as he uses the last of his strength to apparate to St. Mungo's

He passed out on the street in front of the hidden hospital where he is found by staff

He sleeps for days in the hospital, his fiance staying with him as long as she can every day

When he wakes up, he's silent

Even when he looks at his lover, his eyes are dark and hollow

The healers did what they could for him but the damage his body took from the curses would leave him with chronic pain and a limp for the rest of his life

He struggles to walk out of St. Mungo's but refuses to use a cane; pride won't let him

His injuries result in his medical discharge from being an auror, his response is anger

His grief over the list of his partner and career sent him down a dark spiral of self destruction

He becomes belligerent, aggressively arguing with everyone over anything about his condition (mentally or physically)

He drinks to numb the pain

That only makes things worse

Any money he had for a wedding is slowly squandered away by drink

Hangovers made him even more insufferable

He refused to talk to anyone about the night of his friend's death, even his fiance

He didn't even go to his friends service, it made things too final and he wasn't ready to accept his friend's death

His behavior eventually led to a fight with his fiance, a big one

She left the ring on the table

He never saw her again

He was alone

Weeks later a familiar face came knocking, his mentor

His mentor gave him the talk he needed to hear

There where shouts of anger until tears of sorrow flowed

He broke and finally accepted that he was in a bad place

Everything he had was gone and he needed to let himself greive

Even after he finally took the time to take care of himself, he still didn't know what to do next until Hogwarts needed a new potions professor

He could try that

Teach kids...not his first choice but he wasn't doing anything else with his life at the time

Worst case scenario, he quits

Turns out he loves it. as much as teaching comes with its own stresses, watching them figure out and admire a well earned accomplishment makes it all worth it

In his time at Hogwarts, he's tried contacting his lost love to no avail

It's one of his deepest regrets, pushing her away

He's well settled as a professor and living life one day at a time

[xxsabitoxx]

I Still Do It Better {Teaser}

<Obanai x Mitsuri x Fem! Reader>

<Sequel to I Can Do It Better>

Warnings: the full fic will have a proper set of warnings

A/N: I’ve received so many requests for a sequel and a few months back I finally got around to it. Then I took my hiatus and returned to realize I didn’t like where past me was taking this sequel… so I scrapped it. Now, over a year after posting the initial fic, here is a proper teaser for the second part

You sunk lower in the water, not stopping until it reached just below your nose. You couldn’t believe yourself, betrayed by your own thoughts several times while trying to go about your day to day life. You had no concept of how to bring it up again, the physical reminders left on your skin wouldn’t let you forget. Yet, part of you was aching for more, not quite satisfied with the marks that remained. You wanted more, from both parties.

But above all else, you wanted to prove your worth. You wanted to convince Obanai you were worthy of his cum. Your legs kicked in the water, eyes squeezing shut as you came to the conclusion that you’d simply be plagued with these thoughts until you did something about them. Laying alone in your bed after had been the worst part. Having to drag yourself from their warm home and back to your empty quiet one felt like a death sentence.

“You really don’t have to leave just yet.” Mitsuri was worrying around you, fixing your hair neatly after you refused the offer of a bath. You wanted to wash your skin yourself, not create some fantasy that you’d stay here forever. “I’m fine, really Mitsuri. I need to get back in case I’m summoned for a mission.” You waved her off, thanking her quietly after she finished your hair. “Are you sure? You really don’t want to stay longer? We wouldn’t mind.”

Obanai didn’t interject, instead he remained quiet as he began wrapping his face once more on the far side of the room. He had been awfully quiet since waking up, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence like you were used to. “I appreciate the offer. I truly do. But I have to get back to my own home.” Your hands fidgeted in your lap, moving to stand with a slight limp. “You can’t even walk properly, please stay. Let us help you… it’s the least we could do.”

You felt warmth spread across your face, especially since you caught Obanai chuckling softly. “Mitsuri please, if she wants to leave, let her leave.” You didn’t want to leave, but you knew if you stayed you’d fall in deep and never recover. Little did you know the damage was already done. “Alright… but if you need us, you know where to find us.” Mitsuri’s hands fell to her kimono, fidgeting because she couldn’t quite figure out how to say goodbye.

It was a one time thing, there were no strings attached from it. At least that’s what you told yourself as you bowed to them, stepping off their front porch and heading back the way you had come. It was a one time thing, nothing more. It repeated like a mantra as you limped back, face holding on to the embarrassed warmth as you tried your damn hardest to not look like you had just got your ass handed to you. “Damn him.”

You pushed yourself up, the bath water sloshing dangerously close to the edge. “What the hell am I going to do?” you whined to no one, your voice bouncing off the walls and right back at you. It felt like you were being taunted at this point, like the universe was waiting to see how long you would take to crack. You had to wonder what would happen if you just gave in. What if you just dragged your sorry ass back to their estate and begged for a second round… a rematch.

[thewisaaaaad]

alright, I have added plenty to the au already

SO LETS ADD SOME MORE

The Captains each have their own stronghold, an island that they have fortified with their power, and where they hide from the sea that they believe seeks to swallow them whole. At this point, they only send out illusions made of Ichor to communicate with their forces at sea, as they all believe that narinder seeks their deaths after the battle he lost. They are right to fear his vengeance, but for the entirely wrong reasons.

Each stronghold his vastly different from the next;

Leshy made his home in a wild jungle, only made wilder with the louse's presence. The trees themselves thirst for blood, vines hang down that seek necks to strangle, and the grass is as sharp as an army's armory. His disciples wield spears, their faces hidden by masks of wood that change as readily as the wind.

Once, Leshy had been a swabbie, the newest recruit. His lust for adventure and discovery was matched only by Narinders own. They were like brothers, once. And Leshy had always known how to cheer anyone up, god or mortal.

Heket claimed a island that had been entirely razed to the ground by an angry god, now made a paradise of fertile ground and glorious harvest. The crops are so ripe, if you harvest them carelessly they will explode, while mushrooms constantly deal with excess growth. Her faithful care greatly for their crew, marking their flesh to represent the family they belong to. To harm one of her crew is to declare war with Heket herself. If you failed them, however, you could end up in the pot for tonights dinner. And the bar for failure was very low.

A long time ago, she was the best cook in the land. She would feed entire communities, often at great expense to herself. Her rapid regenerative abilities as a god only ensured that frog stew was always on the menu. She always kept the needs of the family well above herself on the list of priorities.

Kalamar has the least fear of the depths, for he can swim and breathe down there, but calmed a land-locked defensive position regardless. His city sits upon a massive dead coral forest, the pale animals forming razor sharp supports for the houses and bridges that cling to their branches. His deckhands perform heinous experiments to further his knowledge of the mortal body- and how best to inflict pain.

Ages past, he was a struggling doctor, trying to save as many lives as he could. His repeated failures often shredded his self confidence, but Narinder was always there to help him back on his feet. Eventually, he became the best doctor in the land, using his godhood to identify exactly what was wrong with a patient and to provide the best aid he could.

Shamura entrenched themselves on a barren island, building a true fortress library of stone and magic. But as the years went on, the damage to their skull seemed to slowly distort their perception of reality, each successive floor of the fortress becoming more twisted and eerie as it goes up. The tower stretches high into the sky, bending this way and that, appearing to take a different path up each time you look at it. Littered with traps and lost knowledge, the upper levels are off limits to even Shamuras own first mate and fellow seeker of knowledge, Allocer.

Shamura had been the one to gather them all together. Shamura had been the one to call them all family. They came up with the code, allowing each of the Captains to add their own piece to the rules that all of the Old Crew would follow.

Why did it end up like this?

It was his own fault, wasn't it. Narinder had wounded them. Scared them. They did all those horrible things, mimicking the gods they had replaced because of HIM. He had attacked them when he was bored, so he supposed he was no better than them.

It would probably be better when he was gone, too.

[merge-conflict]

marked for death

(written for a weekly song prompt, just cleaned up today for shippy saturday. non-binary V/Goro)

--

Ten years ago an Arasaka bodyguard had died protecting the emperor of Japan. Beset by the slowly creeping threat of retirement, Goro had always hoped he would end his career the same way– but now his troubles are much bigger than young soldiers with fresh implants and endless ambition. Now he has lost everything and his only hope of redemption relies on the ebbing life of the thief he’s managed to drag into an AI-operated cab.

“Please keep all limbs inside the vehicle during operation,” the AI chirps brightly, and Goro clumsily leans across V to pull her right foot inside. In the enclosed space of the cab her height makes it difficult to maneuver her upright, and he ends up wedging one of her knees into the back of the seat in front of her before leaning back in his own side, keeping one hand clamped on his seeping wound.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the AI says, and the doors on either side shut securely, with a faint whir. Goro exhales, allowing himself a moment of relief. “Please insert a personal jack to confirm all passengers.”

Ejecting the jack from V’s wrist takes Goro longer than it should, with hands are slippery with blood, shaking from the fading stim and physical shock. His implants are dulling the pain in his side, rerouting connections, reducing blood flow away from sliced veins– but the damage is extensive. Without medical attention he will eventually slip into unconsciousness and die. After much fumbling he finally coaxes her personal jack free, and inserts it into the waiting port, before doing the same for his own.

“Guest passenger confirmed,” the AI reports, the screen in front of Goro briefly pulsing green. “Primary passenger unconfirmed. Please try re-inserting the link.”

Goro does, a few times, without success. The longer they sit here the more danger they are in. “The personal link is damaged,” he says, with effort. He cannot take in a full breath– a blinking warning at the edge of his vision warns him of lung damage. “The bullet…damaged her implants.”

“All passengers must be confirmed before service,” the AI replies, and then pauses. “If you are unable to authenticate with the wrist jack, you may instead connect the diagnostic link directly to the port located near the right mastoid.” With a slight click, a cable springs free of the screen, and Goro picks it up, examining the sharp tip with a sinking feeling. “I’m afraid you will have to insert the link underneath the skin.”

“If I am not careful…she will die.”

“I suggest you proceed with caution.”

Goro lowers the cable to pull V closer and for the second time is astonished by her intense gray eyes, lit by some internal spark that is burning long after it should have been extinguished. She can’t pull herself upright, but she wraps her fingers around his wrist, where he has a firm hold on her collar. The expression on her face is serene, but it sends a burst of adrenaline through his system, and in response his implants steady his nerves in a cool rush of calm.

“Do not move,” he tells her, adjusting his vision so he can see the pulse of blood through the arteries in her throat, tipping her head back for a safer angle. Her fingers tighten on his wrist in alarm, but she does not struggle.

“Do it,” she hisses, when he hesitates.

Panic sets her heart beating frantically, the pulse in her throat jumping in time. Goro picks his angle, lines up the link and pushes it through the skin and tendon until it is nestled into the subdermal connector of her implanted interface. V’s back arches, her breathing panicked, forcing him to hold her still so she does not rip out the link or cause herself further damage. Blood spills down his fingers and over the back of his hand, soaking into the cuff of his shirt.

“Primary passenger confirmed,” the AI announces, before Goro can think of the right words to calm her. She tenses at the announcement but stops moving, except for the frantic pace of her breathing. “I advise you not to remove the link until we have reached our destination–“

A loud ringing in Goro’s ears prevents him from hearing the rest of the sentence. It’s all he can do to hold things steady as the car finally accelerates into motion, taking them further into the heart of a rotten city. V holds his gaze– both accusatory and forgiving with her blood oozing hot down the inside of his sleeve. Then between one street and the next, her eyes slide shut, and she slumps into his side.

The streets of Night City are as endless as they are ugly, and he cannot be certain if he orders the AI to drive faster or if he only dreams it. He grows weaker and weaker, with nothing but determination to keep him alive, to keep V alive– so long as she lives, there is hope of exposing Yorinobu. So long as she lives there is reason for him to live as well.

No sooner as he steels himself to stay awake then he finds himself jerked from unconsciousness as the cab comes to a rolling stop. Panic gives him the strength to open the door and crawl free from under V, limp but alive. A stranger is waiting– a man he can barely see in the end of his rapidly tunneling vision. On instinct he picks up V’s legs to help carry her, but after a moment he finds himself on the ground facing her body in careless repose. Death awaits them both in this filthy alley, within the shadow of Konpeki.

Before his eyes slip closed he is certain he sees a sliver of gray watching his weakness. Witnessing it.

When he finally wakes in the back room of the ripperdoc clinic, he can no longer escape the keen edge of despair– Arasaka-sama’s murder and the loss of everything, down to the cyberware implanted inside him. The emotion consumes him like the rising tide, inexorable and inescapable. He drowns in private grief, consumed with the contemplation of the bleak options before him, until he hears a low groan.

He’s not alone. On the other side of a narrow gap V lies on a makeshift cot the same as his own, connected to a portable set of monitors which display the vitals he can no longer see in the corner of his eye. She shifts in her sleep, making a strangled noise deep in her throat that mirrors the rage and agony in his own chest. Curiosity, or perhaps duty drives him to maneuver himself painfully out of bed.

The loss of stabilizing cyberware and too much blood make him clumsy, and he stumbles through his first step, crashing into her cot before he can grab the edge for balance. Her eyes snap open– desperate gunmetal gray once more arresting his attention.

She has ample reason to hate him– to resent and fear him for tracking her down and returning her to Arasaka for interrogation and execution. But when recognition flickers in her eyes, her bruised and battered face breaks into a soft smile that grabs him unexpectedly by the throat.

He is not alone.

Unsure of what to say he merely clasps her shoulder in acknowledgement, and sees relief flit over her face. She speaks, but her words are garbled and soft, and he’s lost his translation soft. He squeezes her shoulder in response, and with great effort she lifts her arm to rest her hand on his wrist. Her expression grows serene and remote, until her eyes close. He is not alone.

[baelpenrose]

Project Praetorian 60: Arrival, Part VI

The Battle of Philidelphia finally ends, with a maneuver that sees the Praetorians take the fight out of Earth's gravity well, and the enemy finally withdraw.

Beta-read by @canyouhearthelight and @writing-with-olive

Mark

“Okay. Here’s the plan.” He was looking at the radar, which exhaustingly revealed that the aliens were coming in hot on more dropships - though not the command shuttle. He had to find some way of stripping their shields again, even if it nearly killed him, to try to stop off that trickle of reinforcements. 

Which meant that he’d probably be out of action for a while, but it also meant he could do the most damage on the ground - with Xavier and him splitting focus to rip apart the enemy assault.

Which, in turn, led to the conclusion that Echo would be leading the attack on the ship, but while she was actually doing techy shit, she’d need someone else managing the operation…

He glanced at Jared. From what he’d seen so far, Jared was capable of balancing risk and reward, and good at improvising. He wasn’t sure he liked the ex-Nazi, yet, but Jared had been an excellent and ruthless fighter, and one who’d repeatedly proven willing to put himself on the sharp end. The fact that Jared was, in his own right, a decent tactician, and had done the math Mark had hoped after their initial confrontation…

Mark made his snap decision and divided his command. 

“Okay. Two teams. Ground team, for discouraging alien landings and tearing apart any Ascendancy trooper who manages to touch Terran soil: me, Seraph, Boombox, Deadeye, Mags, and Titan. We’re going to support the troopers on the ground and keep them alive as best we can. Cipher, you and Frost are in command of the Shuttle Assault team. You will take Siren, Whiplash, Cat and Glitch. Get aboard the carrier, and take it down. Return alive. Do not waste any time or take any unnecessary risks. Skyflower, do not leave the shuttle.” 

Jared looked at him in surprise, and Echo blinked. 

“Yes. I trust you two to manage. Frost, do not let Cipher come to any harm under any circumstances. This war, as it stands, hinges on her as our most vital strategic asset. Keep her alive.” 

Jared looked him up and down, then glanced at Echo, pale eyes inscrutable. Then he saluted. “Understood, Lieutenant.”

Echo shot him a look. “They’re gonna get the guns back online before too much longer, you know that, right? And once I’m on, I’ll be too busy to take them back off before we take the carrier down.”

“Then take it down fast, because I’d rather do that than wind up retreating and have them glass this place off the map once they get the guns online again anyway.” 

Echo nodded. “Got it. I’ll get the shuttle online.”

Mark was already looking at the GPS, already praying he hadn’t sent friends to their deaths, and was already hearing Vergil note the positions of more alien dropships coming in, the screams of troopers minding radar.  Bastards couldn’t even bother hiding from radar, like they knew human interceptors weren’t a…hm. No, wait. Shielding itself made radar irrelevant, but it also increased radar profile because of the way it projected…hm. If things were already locked…

He sprinted over and started drawing in the standing static from all the plasma shots. “Skyflower, hold takeoff. Mags, standby with AED.” 

Then he raked the sky with lightning again.

And this time he dropped, seizing, vision gray, arm alight with agony, chest burning, and found himself breathing again, his arm no longer destroyed. He could barely stand, his nerves having been regrown a second time in less than a day, and Shiloh was shaky.

But the sky above Philly was now being torn with interceptors, and as he watched another dropship was blasted from the sky. 

And their captured shuttle streaked skyward, under the cover of hundreds of surface-to-air missiles.

“Okay. Start the battle. Fuck this. This city is fully evac’d, right?” He said, thinking. “There a gas main along any of the avenues they’re advancing through?” 

***

Molly 

She was still buzzing with anxiety when she climbed into the shuttle. But felt, without knowing how, that this ship would be the death of someone she loved, maybe herself, maybe others. Needed to say it. As Echo booted the drives up, and Amaryllis touched the controls, she strapped in, nervously. 

“Skyflower, are you sure?”

“I don’t love that Storm decided my first flight on this thing should be in live fire combat, but I’ll manage. Fly in, fly out. Survive. Hold on.” They started heading up, and Molly held on.

She had read somewhere that astronauts usually got sick when they started breaching the atmosphere, but whatever this shuttle was built from, whatever alien machinery it had, was keeping her from feeling the acceleration. 

She didn’t dare look back, but she saw, on the instruments, that they were clearing atmosphere. Echo had forced her language model onto the alien computer. “Approaching alien ship. Cipher, send the signal, let them think we need to dock.”

Echo nodded, then did something Molly couldn’t see. She had to pray that it was going to work. She could see - through the viewport, that thing had to be enormous - the carrier. Massive, sleek, grey-green, with weapon emplacements all over. The ship loomed, shaped like a massive claw, in orbit - though absent the beacon, it now seemed a little less perfectly orbiting than it had, as though the navigators were trying to actively keep it on course. 

Molly bit her tongue as Echo nodded. “We’re clear for landing. Docking port at your 2.” 

“10-4.” Amaryllis was already steering in.

Jared nodded. “Unstrap, everyone. Lock and load, we’re probably dropping hot. Siren, get ready for another one of those interference frequencies - I don’t want us eating plasma on entry. See if you can’t spray down whatever their hangar security is with your carbine while you do it.”

Echo nodded. “Right. Looks like our first stop is along this wing by the hangar - there seems to be a shaft we can take almost straight to the main reactor. We could make a play for the guns to try to get pressure off the team if…”

Almost as if on cue, the massive ship shuddered and a massive pulse of actinic fire erupted from a weapon emplacement on it’s belly. Molly didn’t see what it hit, but she knew the guns were back online.

To her surprise, Jared shook his head. “Longer we can go without them being aware we’re here, the better. I don’t like our chances if we have to fight our way in and out of this place. Honestly, Micah - how far can you straight teleport us? Like if I ask you to get you and me to the reactor, can you do it from the hangar?”

Micah thought. “Cipher, how far from the hangar to the reactor?

“Just pure space? About half a klick if you could go in a straight line. Problem is you can’t.”

Micah thought. “Yeah. I can do that. If I only have to take one person.” 

Amaryllis was almost in. Skyflower gently set the ship down. Molly bit her lip, then stopped. She took a breath in as they landed. Their hangar port was slowly repressurized - and she took a breath as a group of aliens moved into the hangar - a handful of the big Hulks, who mostly seemed to be here to check on the machinery, one that was carrying what looked like power cells - and many, many Croaks who were carrying containers of something else.

None of those were what had Molly worried. None of those, in fact, were even armed. No, what had Molly worried was the team of Spikes, almost twenty of them, that had moved into the hangar as a security team, blasters at their shoulders. She took a breath, warmed up her voice, and double-checked her rifle. 

Then Amaryllis dropped the ramp and she desperately cried out the note, twisting it as it ripped through the air, hoping to stall the aliens before they could fire. If even one got a shot off, she knew, they were all dead.

Jared snap-threw a grenade out through the gap in the door, and even as she started singing, she heard the horrible buzz that meant an alien was trying to shoot but couldn’t, that buzzing itself would mess with her frequency - but then they were in sight and already they were out of the hatch, moving, guns blazing. She felt her heart pounding as she kept the note up, firing as rapidly as she could, Spikes dropping. She found her magazine empty, then rapidly reloaded, took a breath, and dove as a plasma bolt struck the shuttle they’d taken in. She fired again and saw a Spike’s leg blown off at the knee before Jared executed it, then saw Mia run around the side of the shuttle and lit up more of them.

Then Kimmy was among them SMG blazing, and the last of them were down. The Croaks were running and before she was even aware of what she was doing she was throwing a frag into the midst of them, and watching as Jared and Micah coldly gunned down the bigger worker aliens. After her grenade exploded in a rough thump, Molly walked over and began gunning down wounded Croaks. 

Maybe, maybe once it would have bothered her. 

But that was before one of these things had turned Annette into a smear on the wall. One of the aliens tried to crawl away, its forelimbs burned and damaged, one of its back legs missing entirely.

She raised her pistol and executed it without pausing. Only after the last of them was dead did it hit her that the girl she’d been when she’d arrived would never have recognized the girl she’d become.

Jared was already grabbing Micah. “Okay. Can we get to the reactor?”

“Are you certain we can take it solo?”

Molly watched as Mia zipped over to the hangar door, and checked it. “No company!” 

Kimmy was breathing hard, but all the blood drying on her armor right now was the wrong color to be hers. The gymnast gave her a weak smile. “You okay?”

Molly nodded, blushing a little at the acrobat’s grin. “Doing fine. You?”

“So far.” 

Jared and Micah had apparently reached some kind of decision, one that Micah clearly didn’t care for. They were talking to Echo and with barely an effort Molly brought the sound of the conversation to herself and Kimmy. 

“-Just keep on the comms. Guide us in, and tell us when we’ve cracked it so we can get out.”

“Take out the pylons, then I’ll turn the shielding off once you’re clear. Once that’s taken care of, I upload a virus that takes them offline while the ship fails.”

Mia screamed. “Guys we have company!” 

Molly rushed to the bulkhead, deeply amused to finally, finally, have a place where cover existed against the alien machines. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, Jared and Micah vanish.

Vergil

Headshot. Another Spike slumped down, brains splattered over a wall behind it. The eye not close to the scope picked up movement, and Vergil twitched his crosshairs just a little over, then fired again. Another Spike dropped, the round having slammed straight through its spine and leaving an exit wound the size of a small plate.

Jonathan was raining hell, but Vergil’s concern was far more precise. Spot enemy elites, kill them. Honestly, at this point, he was starting to note indicators of rank. Some of what seemed to be the officers wore adornments on their horns, or slight changes in the limited armor the aliens wore, and Vergil was learning to target those.

“Deadeye, check west?”

He did - “Uh…Scope’s clear. No contact. Wait, small fireteam setting up north of west. Four blocks. Be careful on approach.” 

“Understood. Start potting them. There’s a bigger force coming up and we want to cut it off.” 

Vergil was still confused about why the higher ups weren’t just letting Mark call down artillery on the bigger groups, but Mark seemed like he already had a plan.

That sounded entirely too ominous for Vergil’s taste, but he dutifully focused his fire on the advancing squad. It was at that point he actually started seeing the force that Mark was worried about - a small group of armored vehicles, at least a few tanks, a huge group of Croaks. Dozens of Spikes. Not in formation, but Croaks were being used as infantry screens even as the Spikes were moving along the buildings.

Mortars were still pounding other avenues, further off - and Vergil dropped another of the Spikes that was trying to reposition. 

Then he got a sight of Casey and Xavier, acting stealthy for once. That surprised him. He could see from here that Mark was checking some kind of map, then indicating something to Xavier. Xavier raised his launcher, focused, and fired. 

A thump, a crack, then a roar. Vergil saw something blow, beyond just the grenade, or even what Xavier could do with it. Then a blast of flame, one that tore open part of the street, one that raced up the avenue, ripped the fronts off buildings as the noise escalated and the flames ripped down the street towards the aliens.

The aliens had turned towards the formation - and Mark whipped the bits of shattered building with magnetism, raking them deeper into the damaged cover, flushing out any enemy hiding in them, and Vergil watched Spike blood trickle out the broken store high rises as Mark turned the now burning buildings into blenders.

It hit him all at once what had happened. Xavier had blown open a gas main and then he and Casey had turned it into a fuel-air bomb. Mark had taken metal blown loose by the explosion and used it to flush out anything too well covered to be killed.

Vergil snapped out of it, head pounding from the noise. They were already pulling away from the tanks, calling for Jonathan over the comms.

He was already redirecting his own fire, knowing that when Jonathan moved he’d need to start fucking up the alien officers to let Jonathan reposition and disrupt the Ascendancy enough that they’d be off balance when the other three jumped into the force Jonathan and Shiloh had been standing off with more conventional arms. 

He didn’t get the chance to see what happened next - a blast rocked his bones, and he glanced over. 

“Alien orbital fire back online!”

“Yeah, no shit. Just keep Titan covered. I need that switch to go smooth. Leave downtown to the US Army - unless they were the ones that just ate that shot.” 

Jonathan was racing across, smashing something out of his way. Vergil was reloading, then firing, keeping up. It was strange to watch Jonathan serve as the mobile anti-armor, but it was what they had, even as Mark used plasma static to fuck up the tanks’ ability to target Jonathan.

Xavier and Casey were already repositioning to start firing on the alien forces that Jonathan had pinned down - but they’d circled from the north, and when they descended, they began slaughtering with fire and thunder like murderous angels.

There were a small group of troopers - Imperator troopers - fighting their way up the avenue. Shiloh rushed towards them. Vergil immediately saw why. Leading that squad was Curtis, face blistered and armor splattered. 

That group was already pushing back into cover, engaging an advance with light machine guns and rifles, and Vergil added the weight of his fire to them. A plasma blast tore open a building and sent shrapnel flying, ripping one man’s face open, and Shiloh almost casually threw him to the ground, healed him, and shoved him back into cover.

Curtis flashed the kids a grin as Shiloh began firing at the aliens, face distorted in a savage snarl. Vergil saw a strange blur in the window and for a moment felt a surge of panic - then he fired, and saw a spray of dark blood. He kept his weapon closely trained on them. Not a chance were those invisible fuckers coming near his family again.

Micah

Being alone with Jared wasn’t exactly the most comfortable. Neither was flying into space with a totally untested craft they’d just captured. Neither was teleporting into an unknown part of a starship with unknown opposition.

Actually, almost every part of this had Micah ready to have a full tilt panic attack, and when they appeared in the reactor room, only for Jared to immediately shoot the two Spikes in the room and then immediately turn on the Croaks…

He started hyperventilating. Then he saw something new. An alien they hadn’t seen yet. There were the big ones, the Hulks - Jared was already firing on them, and grimly, Micah joined - but there was a species they knew existed but hadn’t seen.

Skinny, extremely gangly, with oblong, sloping skulls that looked almost like beetles in shape, with bodies that resembled upright salamanders, limbs more akin to those of a sloth…These must be the Slenders that had become the Ascendancy’s ruling caste. Supposedly incredibly intelligent, but physically weak. Used high technology to compel the allegiance of the Spikes, who had then…

Jared, face distorted in hate, was already walking over, and smashed one of them in the face with his rifle butt. It raised it’s hands, too slowly, and Jared smashed it again. And again. Micah was hyperventilating, but there was a rage in him. All the Spikes, all the death - it was the fault of these things. Being taken from his home wouldn’t have happened if not for the things standing in front of him. He shouldn’t have been here and next thing he knew he was screaming at them and had pulled his combat knife.

The ruined bodies of the Slenders would have been useless for Koleth to autopsy, but Jared grinned savagely at it. “Damn. Okay. Micah, I want it out loud and not just because of what we just did. I am sorry I ever called you a pussy. You are a badass.” 

Micah looked at what he’d done to an enemy incapable of defending itself and felt sick. He started checking his ammunition, started checking the distance from here to the hangar…Jared put a hand on his shoulder. “Dude. You alright?”

Micah gave a half-hearted laugh. “No! We just murdered those things! We’re going to be doing this til we die or we’ve gone so insane that that makes sense! Allah yagfir lana, Frost, that doesn’t terrify you?”

Jared paused. “I’ll answer that on the way down. For now…” He keyed the comms.

“Cipher, we’re in position.”

“Yeah, uh…checked the schema. We’re holding out. Fuck up the pylons before I take down the shielding, and have Glitch move you the minute the pylons are down. There’s gonna be enough free-flowing radiation once both those are out that you don’t want to be there without shielding.” 

Micah nodded. He looked around. There was some kind of dome of translucent material he didn’t know, and inside glowed a sphere that looked like a tiny sun. It didn’t hurt his eyes to look at it, though it was painfully bright. Surrounding that were several things that looked almost like…he’d seen a Tesla coil at a museum once, and this almost looked like that, but the connections looked…off.

Jared picked up the blaster and began heating the pylons. “Okay. Here goes. Keep anything that comes in off me.” 

The next few minutes were the most tense in Micah’s life as Jared did it over and over. Shattering and melting one pylon after another. He let the sounds of cracking, screaming metal wash over him, collected the vibration, collected the sound, focused on the distance, and when Jared at last tore free the last one, it felt loud. Too loud. Like the ship was starting to shake. Jared grabbed him and they both shook, he went dizzy, and they were back in the hangar.

The first thing he saw was Kimmy backflipping. Then he saw that she’d done it to get away from a Spike. She pulled her pistol and shot it - her rifle had been shattered and lay away from her. Echo was still at a distance. Mia had picked up one of those fast-firing needle weapons that some of the aliens carried as sidearms and was spraying it down a corridor. 

Echo cursed. “Okay, shielding down, can’t keep them from just flushing the airlock, get on the ship, NOW NOW!”

They bolted for the ship, Kimmy, then Micah heard Jared shout for him to get Echo. He sprinted to Echo, on the far side of the hangar from the boarding ramp to their captured shuttle.

He saw Jared go for Mia - start covering her as she bolted back, then back up onto the boarding ramp.

And Jared still wasn’t aboard the ship, even as Mia sprinted for it, starting to cover him, and Kimmy grabbed Amaryllis’s SMG and started covering them too.

Micah grabbed Echo as she started running and they warped back onto the ship.

“SKYFLOWER GET US OUT OF HERE!” Jared jumped aboard and the ramp came up.

Echo grinned as they took off. “I lied. I had started the depressurization when I said it. I didn’t want them evacuating. We’re out.”

They started falling through the atmosphere, Amaryllis laughing. “Holy shit. WE just took it down.”

Micah was laughing - but he saw how Jared looked at him, and fist bumped the other boy. He saw Mia looking at Jared, and he saw Kimmy and Molly staring at each other.

Jared muttered to Micah. “No. It doesn’t bother me. Because long as I’m here, I never have to go back to where I was, the people I was dealing with that made my cousin look good, and I can stick with you all. Probably going to die, but before I do, maybe I score with someone I would have been too stupid to notice before I got here. There’s definitely worse ways to live.”

“We’re coming down - Cypher, help me out, this is gonna be a trick. I know it was helpful but I do wish we hadn’t trashed that beacon.”

Xavier

“Almost got them!”

The aliens were now fully panicking. Groups of them were falling back, retreating, or otherwise bolting. The Army had managed to push it’s way out of an attempted encirclement and repay the attack, and now the Imperator troopers they were fighting alongside were pressing the attack.

Shiloh had been heroic - after Curtis’s squad had arrived, almost all of them were swearing up and down that the medic was the only reason most of them would be serving, and not a one was exaggerating. They now moved as a living screen around Shiloh when the medic broke cover, ignoring Shiloh’s pleas for them to stop.

Then Mark said something. “Colonel, General, I’m going to switch to all channels and ask you to repeat that, if it is convenient.” 

“Acceptable, Lieutenant,” Xavier suddenly heard someone say. “The enemy are routing. Additional forces are surrounding the remainder. There seem to be some kind of pods dropping from the destroyed ship - your team is closest. Can you retrieve them? Once you do, fall back to base. You’ve already won this battle.”

“Understood, Colonel.”

Echo’s voice rattled over comms on their way over to the indicated coordinates. “Carrier eliminated. We’re all okay! We’re coming down, Amaryllis wants her normal gunship back.”

Xavier started laughing. 

The drop pods turned out to contain a species whose existence Echo had confirmed but which Xavier had never seen. A handful of them, only. Sloping, large heads, slothlike limbs, and salamander-like bodies. The creatures panicked when captured. But they did now have prisoners - ones they hoped could be exchanged or used as diplomatic tokens.

When they got back aboard the gunship - with the prisoners in tow - they looked out over Philly. Over half the city was in ruins, and God only knew how many had died.

But their first major battle had been a victory, at least on paper.

Echo cursed as she glanced at the data pad. “‘Report. Multiple Ascendancy super carriers detected. Predicting simultaneous arrival within the month.’” 

The team froze. Multiple supercarriers. 

All of that had just been with one.

Molly glanced at Kimmy, and Xavier saw her desperately reach out a hand. 

Casey spoke. “Not over, is it?”

“Not close. We’ll need to make some kind of statement. Ideally before they get here. People are scared. Let’s give them something to believe in.” 

At that, Xavier smiled. It was time for them to commit. To really go for broke on keeping that promise to each other, made under the stars when they’d first heard the rumor of what was coming. To make themselves the public face that couldn’t be ignored.

[mykingdomforapen]

Man, the AU you mentioned about LTC possessing LG and causing damage with his voice and hands that he'll wake up to has not left my brain. I do have some questions, if you would maybe expand on it a bit!

Do you think this is a bit of a role swap, in a way? Of LG being the one possessed instead of QL after what happens with Liu Min and Emma? In that case, what could happen? LTC would have access to his memories, to CXS's vulnerabilities and fears that LG is well aware of, and coming back right after Emma's death might have CXS in a position where only words could do immense damage, without even mentioning the knife he might or might not have access to.

I feel CXS might recognize it's not LG even if LTC tried to act like him, right? But it would not make what he says sting any less, or would not make a sudden stab any less surprising as he comes back from a dive with his guard down, I guess. Ah!!

He might be possessing LG in a completely different context, too, I guess! Although he would need LTX to be around for it to be done remotely, right?

Please forgive my rambling, even just as a concept, I'm very very curious to know what you considered for that idea. Thank you for your time!

Thank you for giving me an excuse to expound on an indulgent au that I dream of whenever I have trouble staying awake during my jet lag aksjsksksk.

I admit that when I have my sleep-affected stories in my head, it is effectively Whump Without Plot so I didn't really have a logical reason of why Lu Guang would be possessed. However, if we were to make a rhyme or reason for it, it would likely be to make Qian Jin's capturing of Cheng Xiaoshi quicker. Since CXS was targeted by the antagonists because they wanted to take advantage of his abilities, after all.

(Which of course is what happens vaguely in the canon, but shhh)

But in an AU where CXS doesn't recognize LG is being possessed (or, even if he does find something odd, isn't in a position to question it), he would easily follow Lu Guang anywhere no question. So he would be an easy mark as long as the baddies can use LG to take him somewhere else.

As for my indulgent AU in which it's a completely different context, maybe baddies want to separate CXS from LG for whatever reason, make him run away from LG and make him more vulnerable to the baddies' attacks, whether to capture him or something else. In which case, they can use LG and force him to push CXS away even if it's just for one vulnerable night. And since LTX's abilities are such that she can see all the memories of a person, it would be at least enough to glean what LG's usual personality and talking style is like to make his possession seem at least believable. And as you say, if it's on such a night that CXS is perhaps already vulnerable--maybe a bad dive, or a hard reminder about his parents--really, it's about saying something hurtful to CXS that he already kind of believes about himself that would make him less likely to question whether or not LG actually means it.

Like, if a possessed LG were to say that CXS is cruel and dishonest, I think CXS would be a bit ? about that. But if LG were to call CXS, idk, clingy and burdensome, which arguably (at least in my headcanon) CXS has wrestled with in his own self-image already, that would make him a bit more likely to believe those are LG's words. Because CXS is already struggling with those worries that he is so, and hearing it from his best friend who knows him most deeply would feel like confirmation ...

(and if he doesn't believe it's LG, then possessed!LG would just knife him and drag him to the baddies we get the best of both worlds lol)

Of course, in the way that Chen Bin was able to sort of gain some sense of self when he was possessed because he was being forced to walk off the edge of a building but the love for his unborn daughter gave him some consciousness to, while unable to resist, have sentience, I can imagine that Lu Guang's love and care for his best friend and seeing the way that he was being used to hurt him would give him some ability to try to resist, or at least be conscious about what he was being forced to do...which is perhaps even worse....

Witnessing his own body and mouth hurting his best friend but unable to stop it...

[sterlingarcher23]

An "eye-opener"

This quite literally opened her eyes... Oh, foreshadowing. Nachtigall ick hör dir trappsen.

"Let me see" (If "I hear you" while listening to the radio forshadows blind Max, the "Let me see" forshadows the opposite.)

Why? Because both Lucas & Erica are connected to the 8.

You know... Kali. The dice could have shown any other number in slow motion but it's the 8 before it's a 20 (the ElMax & Lumax patterns both equate separately to a specific number once the final verse happened: 20)

Lucas speaks directly to her inability to see and feel and he says "We're gonna get you some help". Not for the resurrection, he speaks to her condition, her loss of sight and unable to feel/been paralyzed (the dying/resurrection is addressed after this) - Some don't see her paralyzed forever but blind definitely? That is inconsequential. (Seriously, you can't just flat out say one part is probably not the case but the other is. - It's both or nothing. That's why it's in this scene.)

A supernatural genre show and you truly believe everything is going to be normal?

Blind girl...

...um, psych.

Blind girl connected to her friend - when she grabs Els hand, she pulls off her glasses.

"Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds", Neverending Story

So behind Max's clouded eyes "rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold". We still have to see this, don't we? S4 didn't gave us this.

Angel by Madonna, in its final line, says "Clouds just disappear". One shouldn't overlook this line of the song when everything else IS in the show.

And how? You know how. Brenner explained it even to us. We just misunderstood who was actually meant.

You know "taking abilities & memories".

Well she IS alive, ergo she will see another day even though it won't be her "eyes" that she'll use. It doesn't get more obvious than in this line - not only for this episode but in whole since this scene is a forshadowing of both her death and resurrection (I think there's the clock sound at the 20 minute mark?):

IF Max lives (Yes & Yes), she will SEE another day (Yes and logically Yes again! + "In your hand/s the birth of a new day"). And Lucas & Erica will get her some help as Max demanded "Let me see" via the 8. (which is btw the shape of the binoculars too)

El will be Max's eyes. Yes, I agree. Literally. This scene here is meant literal. You remember Phineas Gage? No? Go watch the scene. 😉

I'll talk about Gage in another post but there's a case of a woman that was blind after an accident. She was diagnosed with brain damage ; you know the thing Max doesn't believe is a thing...and she's right in her case. That woman wasn't blind, it was a misdiagnosis as it turned out many years later. The woman had something else... similar to Gage's symptoms but the correct diagnosis wasn't brain damage.

Max is blind...but she isn't at all. Because she'll consume. The silver cat feeds. Abilities. Memories.

The Talisman which Lucas reads from passage refers directly to Speedy. Speedy Parker whose alternate version, Parkus is a gunslinger, a knight. There's a third character with the name of Snowball (Seriously!) a blind musician who, although never directly confirmed, the protagonist of The Talisman, Jack, identifies as Speedy Parker. Snowball is extremely good in identifying other people himself even though he "can't see" - but if he is indeed Speedy, how can he be blind and be able to see at the same time? The Talisman - a healing object like the Grail - doesn't answer this oddity, it can be interpreted as a case of multiple identities/versions. However it is obvious why the Duffers chose this reference: Max is "Speedy" and therefore Snowball. That's why the "Snowball" happened. Blind yet not blind at all.

Plus: El literally removes blindness where he blinds the kids.

Oh, and about that brain thing...wait for a space walk that's been foreshadowed too when Max is introduced to the class.

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 10. Napoleon “Leo” Usher

A/N: where is the work for my man who’s gonna do it for me every time?! This series wasn’t my fav (better than the midnight club ofc! Argue amongst yourselves) but everything was executed very well! EAT THE RICH! Anyways I’ll probably do a re-watch at some point to appreciate it better. Look at me being back on my writing kick, someone bring me a treat and by treat I mean truffle fries. Alright this is kinda late and I usually never risk writing for any of Mike’s work but here I am. Hope this doesn’t flop but with the dust in this tag makes this very likely!! Okay ✌🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: A is afraid to get the Halloween decorations out of the attic or garage, fearing there’s bugs, which leaves B to do it. + Going to questionable lengths to decorate their house/apartment.

Synopsis: People can say a lot of things about Napoleon Usher but some may not be aware that he’s actually a homebody. However there’s a few places he doesn’t mind spending his time and that so happens to be at his best friend’s place, who also doesn’t mind actually putting him to work.

WARNINGS: Platonic x reader! language + dark themes/humor + mentions of s*ic*de + gender neutral friendly!

<- read my previous anthology prompt here.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

[6 weeks before the fall…]

Second guessing.

That happened to be something that was always jammed into Rudelle Povea’s head ever since they were young. Their parents taught them to be curious when things didn’t feel right in their gut and many times that resulted in phone calls home for being, “too disruptive to others in class,” which really meant too annoying for teachers who just wanted to teach without mountains of inquires coming from this kid to being, “too smart-mouthed and a know it all for me,” from their maternal grandmother who eventually gained guardianship over Rudelle.

If something’s been instilled in you for the longest, it can become a habit—whether good or bad is always up for debate. Sure at times it made Rudelle feel as if they were being a bit indecisive but they always looked at life as one big question mark. They didn’t have to just simply take it for what was thrown at them. If they were prompted to question it all, then in a sense they were persuaded to see everything from all angles before going through with a final thought.

Rudelle wasn’t incapable of making a decision, never think that but they always needed all of the facts before going forth. For instance: take the death of Rudelle’s parents when they were only twelve years old back in the United Kingdom. Rudelle’s grandmother was not only controlling and cruel but she was also a really good liar that kept up with the tale of how Rudelle’s parents died. As if Rudelle would never get older and do a deep dive considering the career they went into as a pathologist assistant before Rudelle got laid off.

How convenient that they seemed to be laid off the further along they got into the reports of their parents’ apparent murder-suicide. Lots of sealed off information and blocked out text was enough for Rudelle to come to terms with their family constantly hiding but what exactly?There were always more questions than answers but there was no doubt in Rudelle’s mind that their grandmother had something to do with this.

A crack sounded at the window, bringing Rudelle out of their lengthy daze, spotting a black crow flying from their sight yet again. Rudelle didn’t waste any time, pulling out their phone to make note of the arrival of the same crow and exact date when it provided more damage to their window in the living room. Sighing they got to their feet, phone still in their hand as they got closer to the window, inspecting the cracks that seemed to get bigger each time.

After the sixth ring the line picked up.

“Leo, you coming ‘round?”

“…what’s in it for me?”

“Good company.”

“Is that a underlying proposition for us finally hooking up?” He sounds wide-awake now.

Rudelle snorts, “Keep on dreaming, mate.”

Rudelle doesn’t wait for a response as they end the call, knowing that when they called each other it was rarely for a chat since they could just text and send voice notes to each other. If they called each other it was usually within good reason—although it was a fact that Rudelle Povea and Napoleon Usher lived slightly different lifestyles.

It was about half an hour later when Napoleon shows up to Rudelle’s apartment, barely appearing, almost as if he was struggling to hold himself upright against the door.

Rudelle snickers at the dark attire and their friend’s appearance, “I’m surprised you didn’t use your key this time, why the long face? Did I ruin the post party?”

Napoleon rolls his eyes as he shoves his way inside the familiar apartment. He’s kicking off his shoes in the foyer and heads to the right to dive face first into the beige couch.

Rudelle closed the door behind the man and heads to where he is and squats beside him, “So…”

“No! I don’t want to take your fucking quiz, let me sleep.”

“I wasn’t going to ask any more about your night because I can just tell how it went,” Rudelle responds before adding, “I actually saw that crow again—

Napoleon lifts his chin to glance towards the window and sighs, “Where’s the maintenance manager when you need them? You do have that here in this unpleasant building, yeah?”

“I don’t care about the window.”

He blinks hard at Rudelle, “well you should, love. There’s what? Three cracks now and if you don’t know, they can spread and who knows what else will get into this building once the window finally decides to give way?”

“Your concern is sweet.” Rudelle’s reply is sarcastic.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Buuut! This is the crow’s third time doing that and it’s got me thinking.” Rudelle plops down on the floor, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Let me guess? About you fantasizing about being Brandon Lee’s eternal lover.” Napoleon mumbles—as if he hasn’t heard this before.

Rudelle’s been going on about this crow for a few weeks now and, “the Crow,” (1994) happened to be one of their favorite movies. The thing about Rudelle is that they always tried to find meaning and symbolism for everything. They honestly should have went into literature. Napoleon may have half-lidded eyes right now but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t ever listening. He’s known Rudelle for years, before Roderick came around and molded him into a Usher. They’ve always had a hunch for something and Rudelle wasn’t wrong about Napoleon’s father so who’s to say they would be wrong about this crow?

“No Leo…this time I’m thinking about decorating.”

Napoleon sighs as a smile appears on his face then, “I knew this day would come! There’s not much to work with but I’ve been saying this flat needs a makeover. It just doesn’t fit for you, you know? You’ve got personality and yet this still looks like a staged showing when we first toured this dreadful place. It’s boring and sort of stale—much like Tamerlane’s home now that I’ve come to think of it.”

“Whoa there, I don’t have nearly enough mirrors for us to match.”

“Funny,” Napoleon smirks a bit at the jab since that’s what it was. It’s not like he would ever blame his siblings for the way they all turned out and carried themselves, they had their father to thank for that but that also didn’t mean they were really loving towards each other either. They didn’t know what that felt like either and although Napoleon had his mother in his life, they drifted the moment she sent him here to meet Roderick at eighteen. The Usher siblings gave each other shit right to each others faces and behind each other’s backs.

Rudelle’s been around since before Napoleon gained the title of “being a usher,” so she’s seen it all and only threw in jabs to get a reaction from Napoleon. They knew to tread lightly, not out of fear but they still knew their lane and left that open for Leo to completely bash—if need be. However that still wasn’t in his nature to bash any of his half-siblings, he still saw something in them that they all shared…the torment conditions of being a usher maybe?

Believe it or not, he’s got some feelings about the mere thought of having siblings although they had their issues…there was still some level of respect beneath it all. This was just who they were, take it or leave it.

The world would most likely leave it.

Yes he was closer? If you want to use that term—to Camille and Perry but he was the one who wasn’t afraid to stand on how fucked this family is and always would be while the rest chose to shield that to the public eye.

“Which space are you thinking of first? This living room should be it since it’s the second focal point of this flat. And please don’t tell me you’re going for wallpaper? This is not the bloody 1920’s.” Napoleon spoke, resting his cheek against the back of his hand.

Rudelle shook their head, “I’m not really talking about renovations Leo. The crow’s got me thinking about Halloween decorations…which are down in the basement.”

Leo sits up instead and opens his mouth ready to respond until something catches his eyes on the coffee table. He leans over to snatch the files up, already sensing what they were before his eyes briefly scanned over them. “Ru! You’re investigating again?!”

“Well yes but this has nothing to do with my desire to be festive this time around.”

“I can’t say I believe that,” Leo shakes his head in disapproval, “this is the same shit that got you laid off from a decent pay—for your standards and now look! You’ve gone and decided to be some sort of archivist?”

“They actually haven’t called me back about that interview so…”

“And why do you think that is?”

“My nan’s got just enough pull as daddy Roderick and Auntie Madeline?”

Leo rubs at his beard in frustration, “for fucks sake I almost threw up in my mouth just then. I told you before not to refer to Roderick as that!” He glared at Rudelle who is definitely amused, knowing that irritates him then continued on, “…That could be almost true since your nan gives shady vibes too but you can’t keep doing this.”

“Why not? I’ve got nothing else better to do.” Rudelle shrugs confused before stating, “Just your unemployed friend on a Tuesday that’s keeping busy and trying to not ride on their savings.”

Leo raised his brow, “you think cracking the case on your parents’ death is somehow gonna give you income? That’s like wishing on a lucky star babe. There’s a reason you haven’t got anywhere with this and it’s been months, yeah?!”

“They were framed for a murder they probably didn’t commit which led to their deaths…if I can fix this then I can sue this shit system for if not all it’s worth then…I’ll take half.”

The determination was clear in Leo’s best friend’s eyes. They didn’t see that it was sounding a bit deranged but they had their own facts as well and if they strongly believed this then who was Leo to stomp on it? Leo didn’t know how it felt to not have two parents around but he did know how it felt to have a emotionally sad mother raising him. His mum was kind hearted to Rudelle back when they all lived in Redbridge and it certainly wasn’t out of pity, she was kind to anyone who shared the same decency to her son.

See, Napoleon’s mum is also very observant. She knew from the moment that Napoleon and Rudelle became friends (aged fourteen) that they would be able to keep each other afloat.

They were the pieces of good—more so Rudelle on the surface—that battled the bad the world laid upon them.

“Alright then…” Napoleon trailed off glancing upwards in thought, “in the mean time, you suppose decorating for Halloween will bring you clarity?”

Rudelle shrugs, “maybe. This could be a breakthrough.”

A breakthrough to just accept the job Napoleon’s been offering them since they settled into this city back when Rudelle was twenty-one. Leo’s been into gaming since he can remember, always wanted the latest games that his mother couldn’t afford at the time just to end up with it later on mercilessly. Not really—Roderick made it his job to buy his way in and taking care of Leo financially from a distance.

Yet when those eighteen years arrived and he actually met the mysterious man who tried to buy—definitely not his love—but rather his place as a Usher…Napoleon thought he was getting a chance to build a relationship with a man he didn’t know very well…but instead he was one of the shiny pieces in Roderick’s game.

Rudelle had dreams of being a geologist until she was in custody of their grandmother. They always had that woman in their ear growing up, dictating what they should be instead of what they wanted. All kids have dreams and aspirations but along the way there’s often detours. Those detours happen to be people who only saw greed and Rudelle chose what she thought would be the better option. To do it all on her own instead of being beneath her grandmother’s claws and Leo was still affiliated business wise or not no matter what choice he made.

They were both similar in that way.

Making their own choices, thinking it would work out in their favor.

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

“Great,” Rudelle grinned ready to get to their feet, “I’ll grab the keys for the basement and you can head down. It’s seventy-four which is in the path of almost like a S shape.”

Leo frowns as Rudelle begins to move around the apartment in search of the keys, “wait…you’re not sending me down there alone are you?”

“Yes I am.” Rudelle went through the cabinets of their white kitchen, “there’s bugs down there. I can’t—I won’t. I can still feel those ant bites from last year just speaking on it.” They trail off in thought, scratching at their collarbone, “Which is why I kept most of my decorations shoved in closets up here.”

Leo frowns, “you sure you weren’t on shrooms?”

“Oh piss off! I still got the bills to prove it.”

“So you want me? This glorious piece of ass to be a early feast for some critters? Do you hate me? Do we suddenly have a problem that I’m unaware of?”

“You just said you’re going to participate in my breakthrough? Aren’t we mates?”

“Mates don’t set up mates!”

Rudelle pretends to think about it, which earns them a shove from Leo while Rudelle laughs in return latching onto some keys that were tossed into a drawer.

“Fine, if you wanna hold hands just say that.”

“Are you really going to hold my hand? A taken man?”

Rudelle was tempted to throw in a, ‘Glad you remember that you actually have a boyfriend this time around, considering how many times I’ve caught you in cheating acts.’

But they refrained…only because they had this idea to get their hands on the decorations and didn’t want to do it alone. Sure Rudelle maybe grasping at straws but that holiday changed the trajectory of everything losing their parents on that Halloween night. If you believe in the supernatural…maybe just maybe they could communicate with them in some way.

“Only if you’re afraid of the dark.”

“It’s not of the dark, rather what’s in it.”

“Don’t you worry buttercup, I’ve thought of it all.” Rudelle’s patting Leo’s cheek who furrows his brows as they disappear again around their home.

Leo exhales deeply, “if you did then why am I being dragged into this?!”

“Because you’re my best friend and you can’t help but to love me back.”

“I guess…”

“What?!” Rudelle calls from somewhere in the apartment.

“I said I must confess! You know like queen Britney once said.”

“Uh huh.” Rudelle appears back in front of Leo who started peeking through their fridge.

He clasps a tatted hand to his chest, “I forgot that you’re so light on your feet, should have been a astronaut.”

“Not a chance, I think you’d miss me too much,” Rudelle winks and begins to model out the accessories they gathered for the both of them on their sudden adventure.

Leo thinks about it, taking a bite out of the cold veggie pizza and shrugs, “eh you’re probably right.”

There was no denying that Leo classified Rudelle as his only and legitimate friend who didn’t care about his nepotism. Don’t think they didn’t argue over money when his ignorance got the best of him in the beginning but it didn’t become a thing until it became a thing from time to time.

The basement in Rudelle’s building always smelled of moth balls, fresh dirt, cigarette smoke, and wet air. It wasn’t the best thing to inhale but with the city that they lived in it wasn’t anything foreign. The deeper the pair traveled through the bottom of the building, the colder it felt; even with the friends standing side by side.

Leo whispers to his left, “you look like you’re not batting on a full wicket.” Referring to Rudelle’s attire of a full hooded wetsuit, sunglasses, and a KN95 mask.

“Sounds like you’re jealous and wouldn’t be able to pull off this fit.”

“Even if I wanted to,” Leo starts doing that irritated blinking he so commonly does, “which trust me I don’t—I’d like for my balls to breathe so that’ll be a negative on the jealously part. You however still are giving very much nutbag.”

Rudelle bows, “thank you, thank you. A true star is going to war.”

“Star? Let’s not go that far with that outfit you’re wearing.”

“You should really talk to your therapist about your haterism,” Rudelle bumps Leo’s shoulder, “ready?”

“Not really,” Leo comments, “what are the sunnies for?”

“The jumping spiders.”

“The what?!” Leo stops in his tracks, “you never said a thing about that. I thought we only had to worry about the ants. Spiders are much worse than ants!”

Rudelle shushes the man from beneath their mask, “can’t turn away now, we’re not far from the decor.”

Leo is muttering away as Rudelle begins to drag the brooding man along, “you have me smelling like a old man who has back spasms on a daily with this lavender and eucalyptus oil. You better be lucky that I like you.”

“Oh what ever would I do if a usher despised little ol’ me?” Rudelle pouts beneath their mask.

“More like, what would you do without me?” Leo mentioned as they traveled the s path to the storage room.

You know that eerie feeling you have when it feels like someone is watching you from the corner of a room or standing over you as you sleep? It’s one of the reasons why Rudelle sleeps with the covers completely over their face. It’s also one of the reasons why Leo was more of a side sleeper than any other position—unless he was up to something else that is. That same feeling was creeping up the nape of Leo’s neck although his hoodie was tightened to his head.

As the friends take what feels like slow steps closer to the storage, there’s a tapping feeling that falls upon Leo’s right shoulder. It’s instant that he whips his head to his left to where Rudelle once stood but they’re actually up ahead, unlocking the first gates to the storage room.

“Did you feel that?” Leo calls out, while looking behind him at the path in which they came.

The creaking of the gate is followed before Rudelle says anything, “depends what was felt.”

Leo isn’t sure if he likes that response, “what do you mean?”

“I’m not the only tenant that doesn’t like coming down here.” Rudelle says, “come on then, don’t be afraid.”

“I’d actually feel quite better if I had my Mjölnir.”

“You���ve got me, babe?” Rudelle grins over at Leo who snorts as he cautiously approaches them.

Leo stands at the entrance of the gate while Rudelle is already inside, “is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Sonny and Cher think so.” Rudelle winks over at Leo who shakes his head at that.

“Cute but not really my style of music.”

“Don’t I know it Mr. Hangs out at cracked out pubs for fun.”

“Definitely not my kinda party either.” Leo steps inside the gate while Rudelle searches for their storage, trying to recollect which side it was actually on.

Rudelle let’s out a cackle at that. They remembered a time when a tattoo-less glasses wearing Leo was afraid to try a spliff back in the day and now look at him, the main party man out of the duo.

Leo let’s put a whistle as he walks down the aisle of gated storages that seemed to be collecting dust on top of their piled up items. “This isn’t so bad although most of you may have a hoarding problem.”

With those words lingering in the air, the main gate behind them seems to slam shut behind them making both Rudelle and Leo’s heads turn back to the entrance.

“Don’t tell me—

Rudelle shakes their head in disapproval, “I told you to use the brick to keep it open!”

“When did you say that?!” Leo exasperates, hands thrown up in the air.

“Back when you said someone tapped on your shoulder.”

Leo rests his clasped hands on top of his hood as he gulped, “I—I never told you that.”

“Yes you did.”

“No! No I didn’t, Ru!” Leo felt unsettled, “I only asked if you felt it but never elaborated to what it was.”

Rudelle hums at this.

They could have sworn they heard Leo explaining that to them? There were reasons why the tenants on Sycapine hardly ever came this far down in the building. Things that couldn’t be explained, much like what the two best friends were experiencing. Leo would later brush this off not bothering to connect what he encountered with Ru as similar incidents his own family would face but way more extreme.

“Well…might as well stay awhile. We got nothing else better to do, since you just locked us in.” Rudelle unlocks their storage section, holding eye contact with a very annoyed Leo.

Leo points, “I didn’t do anything! You thought you could suddenly telepathically tell me shit for real this time?!”

It wouldn’t be Rudelle’s first time.

“You’re the one who said someone tapped on your shoulder, so clearly you’re the one who failed at telepathy.”

Leo felt his eye twitch, “I knew I should have stayed home.”

“Whatever,” Rudelle says kicking a box towards the dark haired man, “pop a squat buddy, you’re not going anywhere.”

Leo kicks back at the box and rushes over to the gate to rattle against it, thinking that would apparently get it to unlock. Slipping their hand against the padlock, he couldn’t angle his wrist just right to pad any numbers in and the extra stab was seeing a brick right across the gate, almost mocking Leo with bright green eyes while the hallway went black for a good two seconds, demanding that Leo witness the disturbing image.

The after effects of a party never had Leo like this before.

There’s another touch but it’s a pinch this time that sends him snatching his hand back through the gaps in the gate. Holding onto his skin he examines it to see that there’s no damage only tricks playing on his mind?

He glances back at Rudelle who comes back out shoving a heavy box out of their storage.

Leo finds a spot on the lighter box Rudelle previously kicked his way, keeping quiet until they come back with yet another box to sit across from Leo. He tilts his gaze sideways to read the text, “HALLOWEEN,” on the brown box.

“You owe me big time for this.”

Rudelle dips their head, “cross my heart—

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Leo shushes his friend while peering around, “never made any sense to me anyway. Who the fuck hopes to die?!”

“Relax babes, the yelling.” Rudelle curls a finger against their ear.

“Sorry are my frustrations bothering you?”

“No but you acting like a dickhead is.”

“How are you being so calm about this?”

“Normally I wouldn’t be but things are happening too much for this to be a coincidence so I’m looking at this as another perspective. This all could be my parents’ doing. Thus! The breakthrough.” Rudelle taps on their temple.

“If you say breakthrough one more time,” Leo warns, “you’re good at second guessing yourself and believing whatever your brain tells you to but has it occurred to you that this could all be the devil?”

Rudelle says, “and here I thought you weren’t religious.”

“I didn’t put a label on anything, it’s not really my thing but one thing I know is evil. And what I feel down here is not necessarily kind. Are you sure you wanna fuck with that more with these decorations?” Leo leaned his elbows into his knees.

Rudelle sighs, “can you definitely say that? And not just blame it on anxiety?”

“Would you say the same with the crows? I mean that is the whole reason why we’re down here.”

Rudelle is silent at this for awhile and Leo can see the wheels turning but he’s not the most patient.

“I’m convinced it’s something else.” Rudelle exhales, “I know this building better since I did the research before moving in.”

“Do I wanna know that history?”

Rudelle lightly shakes their head, “I’ll keep it to myself…otherwise you might burst a blood vessel and I feel better having you focused rather than pissed.”

“fucking hell! I don’t like it when you keep secrets.”

“I know!” Rudelle yells back, “but this is an itch that I can finally scratch and I just need the support.”

Leo rubbed at his face, digging the palms into his tired eyes. He understood, of course he understood, he just didn’t exactly enjoy things that go bump in the night.

Never did but being the kind of friend that he is, he would get his point across—even if you didn’t like it but still find a way to be what you needed.

“Fine,” Leo holds out his hand which Rudelle smiled at before quickly tapping the back of their hands together before moving into a smoking motion, pointer and thumb pressed together as they pressed a kiss there before pulling away to exhale the bad into the air, “one love.”

“Always.”

Leo’s smile quickly vanished, “Just know…”

“Ah, here we go.”

“I’ll fucking haunt you if I go first.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Leon.” Rudelle rolls their eyes, “there’s answers in here somewhere.”

Leo feels he’s holding his breath as Rudelle begins to reach for the flaps of the brown box. He’s not sure what could be so off-putting by Halloween decorations and if these would be the usual kind? He personally wasn’t the biggest fan of Halloween as he didn’t enjoy being spooked since that tended to make things difficult for him.

‘Yes there are…but are they the answers they want?’ A feminine voice belonging to the entity named Vera, who hasn’t fully introduced themselves yet speaks above the long time friend’s heads but she doesn’t show herself.

She lingers in the shadows for now but she’s never far. So she watches on as the box becomes open, four flaps folded back as Rudelle takes a large inhale, peeking at Leo who holds their stare.

Unbeknownst to them, the gate behind Leo quietly unlocks and leaves the door ajar.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here.

[bridges-to-ashes]

Barking dogs rarely ever bite.

The implication of the opposite is rather obvious, though their lack of caution, in this case, was hardly a crime; a dead dog may be silent, but it is hardly in the place to even attempt to bite. That did not take the blood and death off its teeth once it did latch onto one’s throat, however, and neither would it unsound the heavy thump of the guard to her left dropping to the floor.

Contradictory to how her luck would normally have it, the guard had at least let go of her as they dropped to the ground, leaving her, still rather dazed, simply standing there, staring, another hand still gripping her tight, and even tighter now, as if she had somehow caused this. The gurgling sound coming from right beside her wasn't even that interesting anymore at this point, at least not to her, as she instead tilted her head slightly to the side; they had been wearing neck guards, of course, but this.. something, hardly bigger than one of Maeve’s knitting needles, had still managed to break through the small, invisible weak spot that she had complained about for years— … What were their kind doing here, anyway? It was that time of the year again, they should have been busy far away, not even within this reality as a whole, and yet, now, she recognized these heavily armored uniforms as their own, as familiar, as having originated back home.

Her mouth has barely opened to ask the remaining guard about it as they already went down as well, this time having less manners and pulling her down too, down and partially underneath their heavy, hard body and the uniform covering it. The blinding white pain once more shooting through her body interrupted her line of thought, as did the warmth running down the back of her shoulder soon after, leaving her with the barely processed realization of how quickly these two had actually fallen, as well as the question of whether she would suffocate under the second — if she wasn't herself deceased already.

But no, that would have made her life too easy, simply dying there in what she, at this time, guessed to be a double cover-up for this brand new mess the so-called protectors of the world had created. When she still found herself breathing by the time she was capable of sight again, however, she resigned herself to pulling her battered body free, which took a lot longer than she would have preferred, while being far louder as well. Still, as she kneeled there a bit later, her hand carefully feeling over her by now undoubtedly permanently damaged shoulder, there was no further noise, nothing to indicate whoever had performed the second attack was still there. Truly unprofessional, to leave without making sure she was deceased as well.

She pressed a tense breath past her teeth as her fingers touched hard, splintered pieces of bone, at which she decided to leave it all to be dealt with at a later point in time, if such a thing was still in her future. Instead, she turned her head, less a measure of caution and more one of looking for distraction, though the not even cold yet corpse of her old boss would have hardly provided a more pleasant sight than the one already infront of her; if it had been where she had last seen it, that was.

Staring at the dark pool of blood and the matching smear on the wall, she considered the possibility of whoever having taken the body while she had been distracted with freeing herself from the pile of meat and armor still on the ground beside her without losing a finger to the uncountable number of gaps in the hard plastic and metal that, in her mind, had been designed for this exact purpose. The official designers of the suits had never been able to provide her with a better answer.

When she finally found it in her to scan the blood on the ground further, finding what looked like drag marks matching her assumption of the situation, she put her still-healthy hand on the ground to push herself further up, back to a stand — thereby turning some more, looking at where the smear would lead her if she was stupid enough to follow it, and instead coming to the realization that she should have just stayed under the deceased guard and waited for a slow death by dehydration to take her.

The hunched over figure leaning against another one of the formerly pristine walls stared at her, though she quickly came to the decision that she, after all, preferred the earlier dullness of its eyes. It didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't even make a single noise as only more dark blood slowly spilled out between the slender fingers pressed against its abdomen. For a horrible second, she wondered if it would all slip out if that hand left its place, a thought that only disappeared again before it could settle in her mind to haunt her when that thing did move, as it had apparently lost its balance and was now on the way to slipping to the ground once more.

Even before she was close enough to catch it, grabbing it underneath one arm to stabilize it, then slowly pulling it to its feet as it attempted to move accordingly, she had decided that she would regret this for the rest of her existence. Its entire body was sticky and slick with the blood clinging to its coat, making it even more difficult than it already had to be to keep it upright with only one functioning arm, but far worse than that was its unoccupied hand that had grabbed onto her shirt as soon as she had been in reach; her initial assumption had been that it was blood that was staining its skin this grotesque color somewhere between black and red, but the shade clung to it even as most of the liquid came to stick to her clothing instead.

Combined with the oddly chapped texture of the little bit of skin she could see, she decided that she did not want to think about any of the possibilities related to this situation any longer.

[yukirayu]

Compare and Contrast: Koujaku and Towa

Full disclaimer: despite the tag I used (which is just for traceability purposes), this post is less of a meta and more of a character comparison post, to show how Slow Damage really took pages out of the previous N+C games.

And this post is about these two.

It’s easy to miss, but Koujaku and Towa are a lot more alike than they seem. It's easy to see where they're similar and where they're different, but there's still a lot of things that you can draw between them. Even with what I’ll point out here, I’m sure I have yet to cover the entirety of it by the end. With that...

To start with the easiest points of comparison, both of them have their hair covering their right eye. Koujaku’s concealed eye is still functional, though he wants to hide the tattoo on that side of his face. Towa lost his right eye in a shoot-out, and while it’s covered by a patch, the hair also keeps the injury from being in full view.

They also have a large scar on their face, specifically across the bridge of their nose. Though it’s never revealed how they got those scars, it’s easy to infer that Koujaku got his scar during his time in the yakuza, and Towa got his scar from either one of his models, or a beatdown, or something else.

They also share the same color motif of red.

Koujaku wears red on his person, from his hairpin to his kimono. Even his eyes are red. And in his transformation in his bad ending, his hair color and the sclera of his eyes turn red, with his tattoos shifting into bright crimson patterns.

Towa is clad in black from head to toe, but red is confirmed to be the color of his aura (or what’s called his “Smoke”), even though he can’t see it, which foreshadows how his connection to his mother is a lot more complicated than the simple concept of blood ties.  

Both are also the bastard sons of a yakuza leader, although Koujaku was chosen to take over his father's organization because the man's legal wife couldn't bear any children. While Towa was a member of his father's organization, he was never chosen as his heir. At most, he was just left some inheritance money.

There’s also how both committed matricide, even if accidentally.

The main difference is that Koujaku dearly loved his mother, who also cared for him as best she could. Sadly, their ties to the yakuza brought them a lot of suffering, with Koujaku’s father abusing his mother very often.

And as part of the obligation forced upon him, Koujaku was tattooed… except that he had the bad luck of being assigned a tattoo artist who just so happened to be collaborating with Toue in his experiments involving mind control.

Shortly after the inking was complete, both Koujaku's physical agony and his emotional distress about his situation soon caused the tattoos to take over his mind, resulting in a massacre that left no survivors, not even his mother.

Towa barely knew his father, but his mother put him through the wringer, and then some. She was malevolent enough to kill the only one who befriended Towa, and she even tried to kill Towa later on, even if it backfired on her big time. While she more than deserved to die, her death was ultimately an accident.

Both were haunted by their mother’s deaths. Koujaku kept his horrid memories with him throughout the years, whereas Towa’s mind repressed all memories of his childhood as a means to cope.

But whether they remember or not, the event damaged their emotional and mental well-being, and there are the marks on their bodies to prove it.

Koujaku sees his tattoos as a shameful curse. It’s not hard to see why he regards them as such, given what it could do to him when anger - an emotion that he’s proven to be unable to fully keep in check - gets the better of his thoughts and actions.

It’s a permanent reminder of what was done to him, and what he had done under its influence. Even in Re:Connect, it’s shown that it’ll take a very long time for him to truly make peace with the etches of ink on his body, even after he got his revenge on Ryuuhou, even after visiting his mother’s grave after so long.

Towa’s scars are also a reminder of anyone who had hurt him to satiate their perverse desires. Even the ones that he inflicted on himself are connected to that. So he would have every right to detest them, since it would always remind him of that dreaded chapter of his life - much like how Fujieda detests his own scars since it reminds him of his parents’ mistreatment.

However, Towa chooses not to. Even when he remembers why he has those cuts all over his body, while he’s not so fascinated with them now, he doesn’t wish to regard them with shame because he refuses to give his mother’s damned soul even that bit of satisfaction.

And then, there is how the trauma affected how they lived for years up until the present.  Koujaku sought to kill himself for what he had done, but couldn’t bring himself to due to the memory of the one other person he deeply cherished who is still alive.

So he returns to Midorijima, still hiding his wounds and his internal conflict, but hoping that being with his other most treasured person would make the pain of living still worth it. And one of his theme songs, “By My Side”, speaks about how he feels being around Aoba is enough even if his love remains unrequited.

Meanwhile, Towa ended up listlessly drifting through life while engaging in degenerate behavior and harmful habits to keep himself emotionally numb and to subconsciously regain control out of the countless times he was helplessly subjected to harm.

While he has the company of people who care for him and who he (subconsciously) cares for in turn, his scars run way too deep that even years later, he responds to almost everything and everyone with only apathy. While he can feel emotion, his mind believes the opposite, as yet another way to cope.  

And then... there's their bad endings. In almost every bad ending, Aoba and his love interest are trapped in the hellscape of their minds in some way. Koujaku's bad ending gets that extra cherry on top by having him and Aoba reach out to each other from the abysses of their minds.

This sounds eerily similar to Towa's fate in Fujieda's bad ending, right? From his mind breaking and his personality transforming into his monster of a mother's.

And that brief, tragic moment of clarity.

As for the good endings, yet another easy point of comparison is the little fact that both have a good ending CG where they and their beloved are surrounded by cherry blossom petals. To add, there's plenty of symbolism behind those flowers that applies for both pairings. (I made a meta explaining TakuTowa’s side, though sadly, it seems Tumblr failed to include it in the tag search.)

Though the sad thing is that as a love interest, Koujaku can only find his closure if he’s the one who ends up with Aoba. As the protagonist, Towa is bound to find happiness or contentment with someone no matter what, even in the other endings where his past remains a mystery to himself.

[dark-elf-writes]

I’m rereading the timeloop au for inspiration and just,,,,

“No, crying comes later when they have reached the tower and the scrolls are opened to reveal Iruka-sensei looking down on them. Telling them they did it. They made it.”

What if Naruto and Neji opened a scroll earlier hoping something useful would be sealed inside like weapons for the next round, ration pills, etc. But instead, Iruka comes out looking more than a little confused. The confusion ends quickly when he realizes that they disobeyed the order not to open the scroll and is promptly replaced with anger.

His yelling gives them away, and Orochimaru finds them earlier than in any other loop. Iruka tries to protect them, of course he does, but what is an academy teacher to a sannin? In a heart beat, Iruka’s body is splayed on the forest floor and blood paints pale lips crimson red. His warm eyes turn glazed and empty even as they meet Naruto’s in a final plea to run. He does not.

It’s the first time Naruto manages to inflict major damage on Orochimaru. It’s the last time they open the scroll. It’s the last time they try to involve someone else.

These loops are their burden to bear, in life and beyond death.

They’re starting to lose hope when Naruto suggests it. It’s the seventh (eighth?) loop and they’re both close to shattering. What are the two of them supposed to do when faced with one of the Sannin and his chosen Shinobi? They’re just genin. Naruto is barely a few months out of the academy. Not to mention trying to get the rest of Team Seven to listen to anything is nearly as painful as losing to the sound Shinobi time after time.

They are, to say least, in way over their heads.

“It has to be something right?” Naruto breathes, huddled close in their impromptu camp that has become a sort of base of operations a meeting place so they don’t need to waste valuable time looking for each other when they should be trying to run.

This loop was not kind to them. Lee’s arm is broken. Sakura has lost enough blood that, short of a miracle, Neji didn’t think she would make it through the night. Tenten was staring blankly at one of her torn scrolls blood and mud matting her hair and her unfocused eyes looking a bit too dead for comfort. Sasuke was unconscious, holding his curse mark even in his sleep as he let out punched out little groans.

Naruto was nearly out of his near limitless chakra and, if not for his insane healing ability, would have bled out and more than likely lost a leg from the deep gash to his thigh. Neji’s hair was shorn half off and the bandages around his forehead, right over that damn seal, crinkled as he turned to look at Naruto.

They wouldn’t last much longer. Neither of them nor their teams. Something had to give if they wanted to make it out of this loop alive if nothing else.

The scrolls… weren’t a bad idea all things considered.

“It could be storage.” He mused. “Two parts of a key for the next section?”

Naruto snorted, one of the arms wrapped around his knees reaching out to tap at the place where his weapons pouch usually hung. Lost in the same attack that should have killed him. “I’d take a key. It would be better than trying to kill a Sannin with a stick. I’d even take one of Kakashi-sensei’s dogs if it meant getting help.”

Neji blinked. A summons.

“That’s how the enforce the confidentiality clause.” He breathed. “They’re summoning scrolls that bring leaf Shinobi.”

Hope sparked in those blue eyes for the first time since the third loop when Naruto watched Team Ten die one after another right in front of him. Fragile as the little glass sculptures Neji remembered his mother being fond of and twice as beautiful. They had, if not a plan, than an idea for the first time in several loops.

“We open the scrolls.” Naruto said, slipping his out of one of the many pockets in his orange jumpsuit, now muddy and caked with dried blood and dirt to tone down the eye searing color.

(They should steal some clothing on the next loop but Naruto was so small. Would the increase in stealth be worth it if he was tripping over the pant legs?

No. He couldn’t think that way. This was the loop. They would get out r of here this time. They would live and fulfill all those promises that had whispered to each other in those stolen moments when they weren’t running for their lives.

A home. A family. Freedom. Love.

They could do this.)

Neji shouldn’t have been surprised when the scroll summoned Iruka-sensei. He had been hoping for a jonin, ideally Kakashi or Guy who would make short work of the bastards on their tail, but he supposed it made sense. But…

“What the hell we’re you thinking Naruto?!”

“Iruka-sensei it’s-!”

“You were told not to open the scrolls!”

“Yes but-!”

“Now two teams are disqualified!”

“I don’t care! Will you just-!”

The attack was in a way less surprising than seeing Iruka-sensei. The scarred man drilled in the middle of his lecture and tilted his head to the side before grabbing a fist full of Naruto’s jumpsuit and hauling him out of the way of three kunai.

They had been found.

And for all of his skill and determination to protect them, Iruka was only a Chunin against one of the legendary Sannin and his two remaining lackeys.

He was just as in over his head as they were.

He lasted longer than they ever had, but died all the same. Gut split open in a haunting mockery of the scar across his face and Naruto’s name on his lips.

As Neji listened to Naruto’s scream (layered, deeper than it should have been, burning with chakra as his teeth sharpened into fangs) he promised himself that there would be no other loop that involved asking for outside help. Not when that outside help would be the only person Naruto saw as a family. Not when his death shattered him like this.

His only consolation when he felt the kunai slam into his blind spot was that he got to watch Naruto’s clawed hand bury itself into Orochimaru’s gut before he died.

[godunlap]

NOTES ON EP. 6 ( part 1/? spoilers beneath the cut ) i'm so sorry if this is long & boring to you, she is just my everything. if you don't want to read the full debrief, the only note that pertains to canon divergence is marked : + 𝗗𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 〢

YALL SEE HOW SHE ALMOST DIED ??? no i'm not okay

— 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎'𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚎𝚝 : ◌ due to cate's upbringing post - caleb, she's always felt like the physical side effects of her abilities were some kind of 'righteous punishment'. so not only is everything her fault, but even the resulting isolation & rejection from [ both her parents & the world ] isn't enough to make her feel adequately rebuked.

◌ on that note, how much damage has actually been done inside her head already? does she heal 100% or is her brain riddled with scar tissue??? how many burst blood vessels in her eyes before there's irreparable damage? there's just SOOOOOO much to consider.

◌ THE VOICES???!!!! i read an article like 2 days ago that hinted at cate's mind reading capabilities & it went right over my head until tonight i swear. SHE IS SO POWERFUL !!!! mind control, memory manipulation, telepathy / clairaudience, unconsciousness inducement, dream manipulation. i'm sure i'm missing some. if trained, could she project psionic attacks??? so far the only limitation i've made note of is that she can't implant false things, like memories, she can only take away.

— 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 : ◌ robbed of a normal childhood, cate has only ever known the 'at - arms - length' love of her parents & the manipulative care of dean s/hetty + some other higher ups at g.odolkin. knowing this, cate is extremely aware of how she's being perceived at all times & attempts to mold herself into whatever the situation calls for. it's only after getting close to luke, jordan, & andre that she finally begins to feel more like herself & that they might accept who that person actually is.

— 𝚕𝚞𝚔𝚎 / 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎 : + 𝗗𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 〢 ◌ i already hated how quickly cate/andre happened after luke's death, it truly kills me to know it was going on before.

◌ probably my only divergence from canon will be that this was not a thing, cate had genuine feelings for & loyalty to luke while he was alive. until canon says otherwise (maybe) i think cate was asked to get close to him by i/ndira, knowing how powerful he is. spending time with him & his family, cate got emotionally invested for the first time. this made it harder for s.hetty to get her continued compliance, but in the end cate always caved. the "𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮" comment from marie was so REALLL. her loyalty, admiration & love for i.ndira forced her into a sort of 'double think' that allowed her to believe she was doing the right thing for both dean s/hetty & luke. cate was never interested in andre before luke's death & confused her feelings of grief & guilt post - luke to hook up with andre. she does love him dearly as a friend.

— 𝚜𝚊𝚖 🥲 : ◌ i think it's safe to say sam's probably been the most negatively impacted by cate. he's the piece of the puzzle that erodes at her ability to remain amenable to the whole situation. in the moments she's faced with the pain & suffering he's being put through, she has to dissociate. that is not luke's brother & she's not luke's lying, manipulating, parasite of a girlfriend. he's just a patient & she's a useful tool. ( you're easing his agony, this misery is necessary, you're doing the right thing ) all those whispered encouragements of i/ndira's just playing in her mind on a loop. that's how she keeps going. but when it all finally catches up with her, she knows it was wrong. she always has.