#but he doesn't let anyone know that. he just says it's because using them is ''less efficient'' or some shit.

[dragonshoardofworks]

Reincarnation Everlasting Trio Part 1 (DPxDC)

(I started this when my idle brain was disassociating on a job that I don't dislike but my boss is an ass, so go me, yey!)

And look at that! I managed to finish Part 1 just in time for Valentine's day!

Prompt: TUE happened (the timeline is a bit messed up, tho, so not everything followed the number of the episodes), but Clockwork didn't reverse the second explosion.

Danny, not wanting history to repeat itself, fakes his death along with his family and friends in the Nasty Burger and after ransacking the lab plus destroying the Portal (& FentonWorks since he's making it look like it was a full Ecto-filter's fault), he gtfo.

Danny's pretty done with life, but since he's a halfa, he's functionally immortal, so the only way to get "eternal sleep" is something similar to Pariah's sarcophagus.

But contrary to what the Ancients did back then, Danny would hide his coffin himself where no one would find him.

In a place rich of ambient ectoplasm (to power up the tech that would keep him “safe”), but inaccessible to anyone who doesn't have intangibility and even then he would put up an Ecto-shield to prevent anyone to bypass the solid bedrock that he would use as natural barricade.

Amity is not a safe Ecto-rich place anymore because of Vlad, so the next best city seems to be Gotham, what with the ley lines and several ghost curses layered on there.

So Danny digs a chamber hundreds meters under Gotham and builds from scratch his prison, going out only three or four times to get some missing scraps and just enough food and water to let him finish the job (completely ignoring the new vigilantes starting to go out at night).

(He meets Robin!Dick once and most likely a still-stray Jason, but he quickly forgets about them, since he's too depressed to care.)

Once finished the project, Danny goes stargazing as Phantom at the highest point of the city one last time, where (a still not overly paranoid) Batman converges to assess him as a threat.

The two talk and have a heart-to-heart (mostly because Bruce sees another grieving kid like Dick and tries somehow to help), but nothing B says is enough to make Phantom desist from what Bruce thinks is commiting suicide.

However, Danny still thanks him for trying and for treating him like a person (Anti-Ecto-Acts are mentioned during their talk and you can bet that later B is gonna check on them) and that Batman is going to be a good dad for his kids.

(This comment leads later to a kinder timeline than the mess that is canon. ꒰(@｀꒳´)꒱ )

Danny manages to snatch one hug from the man, then he flees to the secret chamber, where he “goes to sleep” after engaging every lock and shield.

Even if Batman managed to tag Danny with a bug, he misses his signal once he goes underground and that makes him regret not being able to save him.

Maybe if he had been more open and emotionally reachable, he would have succeeded?

(...and that's how Bruce starts to go to therapy, but shhhhh!)

Years pass and Danny stays as a Sleeping Beauty, however, despite being good at science, he doesn't know everything, so he couldn't have imagined that water would filter through the rock and start pooling inside the chamber (the equipment is luckily waterproof).

However, the passive Ecto-radiation and the small amount of pure ectoplasm that leaks from the top of the filter, makes the water slowly turn into its Lazarus variant.

Though, contrary to LoA’s Water, this Lazarus Pit is pure and uncorrupted due to the filtering machines. 

Over the years (~15… 😏) the water digs through the chamber and shapes it into a cave that eventually connects to the Batcave. 

Maybe the cave-in of a wall, makes some of the Robins go and check if the stability of the ground is still sound and find the Lazarus Pit that covers (almost) completely both the shield and sight of what's under the surface.

When the kids report, B asks for a complete scan of the Pit and it results in discovering that there's something at the bottom.

So they send an aquatic probe to look into it directly and come up to the coffin that has something written on the top in case some ghost did manage to find Danny's spot but not enter the barrier.

(The probe, being “normal”, is able to pass without problem through the shield, though.)

The text is written in multiple languages (just in case) and reads:

“Here lies Danny Phantom. Please do not disturb me while I'm resting, as I want to half-live the saying ‘I’ll sleep when I'm dead.’”

For the first time ever, Damian snorts in genuine amusement aloud and doesn't notice (the other Bats do and start freaking out), but then the camera zooms to the face of the boy inside the coffin and Bruce does a double take as he recognizes the kid he wasn't able to save.

That moment of shock is enough to make the man freeze and not be able to react in time to Damian lunging to the Pit and diving directly inside of it. 

The BatFam starts to freak out even more and try to direct the probe to go and save Damian, but at the end they just manage to see live what he's doing.

Like it's just a normal salvage, Robin!Damian just ignites the instant floating buoys and that makes all the equipment emerge, with Damian sitting on the top of the coffin, completely ignoring the calls of the Bats. 

Immediately, Damian starts hacking the controls of the coffin, but it's not needed since as soon as he starts typing, the computer lights up and seemingly recognizes him, giving him immediate full access. 

Still ignoring the calls (no one can reach him since he's too far from the shore), Damian disengages the lock and “defrosts” Danny.

It takes a bit for him to wake up, but as soon as Danny starts to blink blearily, Damian is into his face, shouting.

“‘I'll sleep when I'm dead’? Really, Danny? You absolute moron!” 

It takes a couple of seconds to register anything, but as soon as he does, Danny gasps and leaps at Robin, snake-bear hugging him, as he climbs and clings all over the other boy.

(If either of them is crying while laughing, no they aren't: it's just the lingering Lazarus Water on their faces.)

Too scared to accidentally trigger the unknown “being” into constricting Damian to death, the BatFam waits, analyzing the interaction.

(Cass silently reassures them that they aren't a threat.) 

“How?!” It's the first thing that ‘Phantom’ says, leaning a bit back to cup their hands on Damian's face, trying to look into his eyes, but the mask is in the way.

Casually, Robin unmasks himself (!!) and smirks smugly, holding the meta(?) by the waist.

“You do remember that incident at the Egyptian Exhibit, don't you?” A nod, accompanied by a desolate puppy-like expression. “Did you really think that I would have waited that long to come back and find you?”

This time the tears are undeniable and, to hide them, the being buries their head in the crook of Damian's shoulder, clinging harder, but not enough to harm him. 

“Where's Sam?” The being asks, muffled, after a while.

“No clue, I just started remembering from reading the pun and seeing your face.”

“Humph, that checks out. ...We'll have to go and look for her, since she's twice as stubborn as you and so she would have come back too.” Damian snorts in amusement, but nods. There's a pause, then Danny jolts, leaning back from him to look at the other better with a frown.

“Wait, why are you drenched in ectoplasm?!” He looks around and sees the Pit. “Wtf dude, this is so not healthy for you, com��on, I have to decontaminate you, you moron!”

(At this, Danny gets so many points in B’s books.)

“Nah, don’t bother.” Damian shrugs, putting a hand on his own chest. “I know my body and with the memory of past me coming back, I think I’m already on the way of becoming a halfa? At least, the humming beside my heart feels much like your Core.”

Danny startles and puts his own hand on the other’s to assess himself.

“Before taking a dip in this Pit to salvage your ass, it wasn’t noticeable, but the ectoplasm must have fed it enough to become active.” Damian guesses as Danny examines the evidence.

“Not ‘on the way’, try ‘already are’. How’s that even possible?” Danny gapes.

“Sweet! Now we can go flying together!” Damian beams.

“Forget that for a second and answer me! This feels like a complete baby-Core, much like mine right after the Accident, but at the same time it’s older?” Danny frowns. “Like 15 or so years old.” Looks up at Damian in confusion.

“That checks out. My current grandfather is a cultist revenant ass (*BatFam gasps in shock*) who’s obsessed with using Pits of corrupted ectoplasm to stay alive. I got tossed inside one a couple of times to be revived as well and I don’t doubt for a second that some of it was used to develop me in the artificial womb.”

“Duuuude, how does your new life sound more crazy than ours back then?”

“The merit of choosing to be reincarnated as the heir of a vigilante Father,” Damian points at the Bats with a thumb, making Danny notice them for the first time, “the ‘curse’ of an interesting life and the chance to meet you again, I guess.”

After a glance that promises ‘we’ll talk about that later’ to Damian, Danny turns properly to the BatFam and startles at seeing Batman. “Oh, it’s the Bat-dude!” Quick glance at the rest of the people, “I knew you would be a good dad! Tucker wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise!” 

There are various splutters from every BatFam member and Damian grumbles in embarrassment.

“Wait, you know him B?” Red Robin side-turns towards Batman, frowning. “There’s no report of him in any file of the Batcomputer. And I’ve read all of them.”

“...Because I never wanted a record of my failure glaring back at me. I already gave myself a hard time as it was, it would have made things worse and Black Canary agreed with that assessment.” B admits.

“What failure?” Jason (who has another vigilante name, since, you know, the Red Hood moniker was to spite B and in this timeline there’s no need for that) gapes.

“Probably me coming down here to get some ‘Eternal Sleep’.” Danny shuts off the barrier, picks up Damian and flies with him on the shore, phasing the residual ecto from their forms. “You thought it was an euphemism for suicide, not literal, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, you did give that impression. Are you alright, son?” B looks at Damian, still not outing his civilian name to be on the safe side.

“Of course, Father. This Ectoplasm Pit has none of the junk Grandfather’s has. Danny knows his stuff and his Ecto-filters are the top notch. (Danny blushes in the bg at the praise) Heck, it could even be used to cure Pit Madness or to revive people without it in the first place.”

“Let’s not try it, please!” Danny hastily intervenes, “No dying for anyone in my family allowed now that I’m back!” 

“Dude, we aren't immortal and you know that.” Damian shoulders Danny in scolding.

“They aren't immortal, you mean. You're a halfa now. Death won't stick on us in any way that matters, so I don't want anyone getting KiA at least. If they get to the point of being old and happy, then I'm fine with them going to rest. But don't think that I will leave your side any time soon.” Danny says pointedly at Damian, who bristles.

“That's completely insane, you can't be everywhere and above all you can't stalk me everywhere! I'm Robin, Batman's right hand, I won't be babysat when I have more experience than you no-” Damian's rant gets silenced by Danny kissing him.

Even after he lets go, Damian's brain is still blue screening while the BatFam is either gaping or catcalling.

“Tucker, or whatever you new name is, why do you think I went to sleep there after you all died in your past life?” Points at the coffin. “You remember that ‘Other Me’?”

“Vaguely, details are still a bit fuzzy, but he didn’t say much anyway after he tied us to the boiler…” Damian blinks, still a bit dazed by the kiss, but then grimaces at Danny’s flinch.

“Yeah, well, he actually went insane after losing you since that gave him an Obsession Failure. He broke down so deeply and irreversibly that it twisted him enough that accepting Vlad’s help led him to being the Scourge of Humanity. I-I… promised you to never become like him, so… this was the only way I could do that. I didn’t know what else to do, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save you after all!” Danny breaks down, crying and sobbing and collapsing against Damian, as he cradles him in his arms.

Damian tries to console him with both physical affection (hugs and caresses) and murmuring reassurances (things like ‘it’s okay, it’s alright, it’s not your fault’) until the outburst slows down and his latest proposition catches Danny’s attention.

“Do you want to meet Batcow? She’s a true sweetheart, her therapist abilities are without equals among the living.”

“...You have a pet cow?” Danny’s voice is still rough with tears, but his disbelief is unmistakable.

“Of course I can have a pet cow! I saved her from an inhumane slaughterhouse, what I’ve seen there even made me swear off meat!” Damian!Tucker says righteously, but then realization sinks in as he stares with growing horror into Danny’s wide eyes.

“Oh Ancients, I’ve become like Sam! And I can’t even go back on the belief of my new life because both she and my current self have a point!”

That seems another breaking point, because Danny starts laughing so hard that he’s crying again.

“It’s not funny Danny, I’m having a crisis here!” Damian!Tucker cries in despair (to hide the relief that his best friend/crush/future boyfriend? isn’t as hopeless and depressed as before) as he lightly shakes the other, making him laugh even harder.

(He won’t let him go either. As Damian, now Tucker has all the skills he lacked in his past life and can protect his People. He won’t fail again.)

[iguessitsjustme]

When It Rains It Pours Ep 6 Thoughts

I have had an incredibly weird day. But the good news is that I can finally watch this episode which will most likely shatter my heart to pieces. BUT it's the first week that I'm watching with everyone else then we all get to spend a week thinking about it and talking about it together. What a wonderful little community this show has here on tumblr (you all have been so nice and so smart and so willing to scream with others and you are all the best forever no matter what anyone else says). I wasn't sure I was gonna continue my liveblog, but here I am. Continuing it. Under the cut:

SEI IS BUYING THE COFFEE. I REPEAT SEI IS BUYING THE COFFEE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I have run out of words. Please tell me someone else has talked about this…I'm not even 5 seconds into the show yet god damn I should control myself.

BUT THEN HE COULDN'T PAY? OH SWEET JESUS. There is meaning here. (sirens hurry the fuck up and drive by I am trying to watch a masterpiece)

Baby boy the feelings are reciprocated. He will save you if you let him. And you can save him in turn.

This. Bastard. Is trying to move Sei away. To alienate him further. He doesn't want Sei to have anyone in his life except him. If he hadn't answered that phone call, he wouldn't be considering moving.

Anger.

Anger and hatred and violence.

His job is literally the only place he ever sees people! He doesn't even really interact with them! But he at least has a place where should he need to talk to someone outside of Fujisawa, there are people there. Not just Kazuaki. But other coworkers. Who based on what we've seen, are all friendly and kind enough. And now Fujiisawa is trying to remove the ONE place Sei has that he does not have access to. I am screaming and crying and gonna jump into this show to knee this man in the groin.

The fact that Sei is listening to rain sounds means that Kazuaki remembered and sent him the link to listen to rain sounds when he wanted. It means that Kazuaki remembered. Thought of him and their conversation. Even before they knew about the emails. He remembered.

You ask like you have a right to know.

He doesn't ask like a friend who's curious and cares about his friend being happy and meeting someone. He asks like he is entitled to that information.

Sei's entire confession is so matter of fact. He doesn't sound remorseful or like he's been caught cheating. He just openly admits to it. Because he knows he likes Kazuaki. Or do we as a fandom call him Hagiwara? I'm not sure on that I just went by what the gaga summary called him for an episode. Please let me know. Anyway. Sei said he started catching feelings.

HE THREW THE PHONE I KILL HIM

GET OFF OF HIM I KILL YOU

SHOOTING LASERS AT HIM

SHOOTING MORE LASERS

Look how red Fujisawa's face is. This is some brilliant lighting work. He is literally red like the devil. Dressed in all black. Pinning Sei down as Sei claws for freedom.

GET OFF OF HIM I WILL RIP YOUR ARMS OFF

Get em baby. Tell him he is the least desirable man on earth.

The purposeful dissonance in the soundtrack right now is truly amazing. (Now I just need these fucking sirens to GO AWAY)

Okay. So I know there's a line to push Fujisawa off a cliff, but what if before anyone pushes him, I go to the bottom and I add some fun little spikes. Just as a treat. For us.

Oh so he just apologizes? I'm gonna stab you with broken glass.

It will take me a minute before I'm able to analyze anything because I am so livid. (I also am angry from something specific at work today so I was already primed for anger and then this fucker)

Hissing

He couldn't if he wanted to. He is a good person. And you are in a bad situation. The second he learns how bad it is, he is never gonna ignore you until he knows you are safe. Until he knows you are free.

HE SEES THE BRUISE. HE KNOWS. HE KNOWS.

Omg I'm gonna cry. The music here. The music. The everything.

No baby boy don't walk away!

What in the homophobia…

If you liked him you would have talked to him. Communicated. If you liked him, you would have set him free. You don't like him. You like the idea of him. And I hope you never find anyone else to trap and make miserable the way you trapped him.

GET HER. READ HER ASS.

Now that Kaori is finally talking to Kazuaki, the framing is different. Before, there was a booth creating a physical barrier between them. Now there is nothing. They are sitting at the same table. Open. Communication. This should have happened SO MUCH EARLIER. Girl. I hate you.

The thing that pisses me off the most about Kaori is that her feelings and her relationship towards sex are completely valid. And she has every right to feel the way she feels. But she never once said anything. She never once told her partner how she was feeling. Even though she knew she was hurting him. She knew he was miserable. But instead of talking to him, she let him suffer. Because she liked him. And she knew an outcome of that talk could have led to them breaking up. And she was so incredibly selfish to never let that happen. She would rather he be miserable and hers than be happy and be free. And that I cannot forgive her for.

And she makes him do the dirty work of breaking up with her. Because she never could do the right thing. Honestly, I think even if she hadn't found out, it would not be long before he broke up with her anyway. He found his happiness elsewhere and he would not be able to live with himself knowing he cheated and knowing he was in love with someone else. Anyway. She should have at least had the decency to be the one to end things because she was not capable of doing it when she should have. AN ENTIRE FUCKING YEAR AGO.

There is something to this show being sandwiched by those two getting coffee. One who wasn't able to get it and one who was kept waiting but did get it eventually.

Also our baby boy is free now! No matter what else happened. He is no longer trapped. He can and will find his happiness. Now he just needs to save Sei.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S NO PREVIEW. IS THERE NO PREVIEW? HELP????

I will probably need to sit with this episode for at least a day to process it before the thoughts come flooding out.

I have hatred in my heart.

[alwaysless]

Fellow William analyst, greetings! I hope you are well, I hope you don't mind a question/ask.

I am curious about your thoughts on the lack of reaction we see of Will at the "one life" reveal at the dinner scene, if you haven't already shared your thoughts before! We know Annabel wasn't shocked, but what about Will?

It took me longer to answer than I thought, sorry

I'm not sure I can say anything new, but yes, it's pretty damn suspicious. The composition of the frame stylized as broken glass, makes it easy to draw Will with everyone, and a frame later we see him with other panicking students, so RnF didn't show his reaction quite intentionally.

But I also want to talk about his behavior further. In the next episode, Will doesn't behave the way you expect him to. Given his weak-willed personality, it seems like he should be scared and overwhelmed by the prospect of a survival game (like Morella for example) but he's confused at best, and moreover, confused by everyone else's reactions. He even tries to justify the deans, basically gaslighting the rest of the students.

Will is not afraid, but he does not understand why others are. I have only two possible explanations: either he knew, or he just doesn't care, just like Annabel. Or maybe both.

Maybe he has played these games before. Maybe he doesn't plan to fight for a second life (at least not in Nevermore, again just like Annabel). Maybe because he is somehow connected with the academic staff with all his doll aesthetic, there is no second life for him in general, he just works there. There are many options, but here I would prefer to focus on his parallels with Annabel - two characters whose reactions we don't see in this frame.

This is actually not the only scene where they are absent, contrary to common sense. In episode 6 we see the merit board for the first time. Most of the names on it are blurred, but some can be distinguished. Among them are Lenore, Annabel, Duke, Morella, Ada, Prospero and Will. All of them, except Annabel and Will, are present in the room at this moment.

I wouldn't have paid much attention to this scene if it weren't for Prospero. Why is he there? He doesn't speak a single line, and we haven't been introduced to him as a character yet. His presence here is useless. So maybe the idea really was for all the characters whose names were visible on the board to be in the scene(or at least have already been introduced, like Annabel).

So what about Will? My main problem with shapeshifter characters is that they can be anyone, anywhere, at any point in the story. Especially if they can also create their own copies. He could have already been introduced and we just didn't notice.

Now let's talk about the games these kids love to play so much. We know that Annabel is a talented chess player, and Montresor constantly uses card game slang. But did you know that it was William Wilson from Poe's original story who was a cardsharper? I just think it's such an interesting detail. Nevermore`s Will has never been seen like this, but considering how much of a board game aesthetic this webtoon has, I think it's important to note this.

And finally, there is a similarity that also makes them very different: both Annabel and Will have ribbons as an essential symbol, but it has a completely opposite meaning for each of them. For Annabel, the ribbons are a symbol of madness, fear, and perhaps her golden cage. It appears in her hallucinations after Lenore's fake death, as well as when Ada shows her her main fear.

Will, on the other hand? The ribbons are his weapon. He uses them to tangle other people. Curious, although his spectre is obviously a marionette, he doesn't have a control bar for strings, he controls the strings himself (not always successful but still).

No matter how weak-willed Will is, he's the only one in Annabel's group who isn't influenced by her. She blackmails Montresor, Prospero respects her as a leader and friend, Ada admires and envies her. But she doesn't have anything on Will. In the chess allegory, he will obviously be a pawn (and I`ll write a whole post about it, I swear), but not Annabel's pawn. I have an idea that sooner or later, Montresor will think of using Will to find dirt on Annabel in revenge. After all, given their spectre abilities, it's easier for them to find out lenabel's secret.

So, let's summarize what we found. Absolutely nothing. This post turned out to be longer than I had planned, because I was a little carried away, but I hope you found something interesting for yourself in this stream of thoughts.

Here, take funny little Will everyone. He deserves to be noticed.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Does anyone actually say that Ladybug and Adrien are fake somehow?

Yeah, people absolutely have that take. It's what spawned the original post. One too many fics and shipping poles that treated Marinette and Chat Noir as somehow wrong for their crushes. (I apparently read fast. My ML fic's read count is in the thousands at this point. It's enough to let me notice trends that bug me whereas one fic would just be a shrug and move on thing.) On the Adreinette side you get, "Chat Noir is the true Adrien! Civilian Adrien is just a mask! Marinette only loves the fake Adrien so she doesn't deserve him!"

Chat Noir gets less flak, but I've seen it enough to know it's very much a thing. There's a reason Marichat wins out over Ladynoir in almost every poll. If you ever see one, read the comments for the logic and you'll see what I mean. People with this view seem to think things like, "Chat Noir doesn't really love Marinette because Ladybug isn't stuttery and awkward around him! He has to love her when she's a mess!"

This kind of thing is so popular that I had to stop reading fics that paired Marinette with other people because the "Marinette is the true version" thing showed up all the freaking time. So many of these fics felt less like shipping stories and more like Adrien bashing where he was punished for liking Ladybug and not Marinette. It was draining. Even my favorite one has a scene to make sure Adrien feels bad for missing what he could have had and it's a freaking no powers AU!

I actually had a really lovely conversation about this topic when the blog was young because this is one that gets under my skin whenever I come across it and I occasionally need to vent a bit. The kind person who indulged my annoyance straight up said that they used to think that the square "have to fall in love as Marichat bc that's when they can be real with each other." Which was not a stance that was unique to them by any means. They were just validating my first-hand observations of the way SOME people view the ship/characters.

There is a version of the true selves stuff that's genuinely sweet though. It's the version you basically summed up where it's less about these two being the "true" versions and more about Marichat letting the two get to know each other without the pressure of the crushes complicating things. After all, the canon square is only a few hours removed from love at first sight which certainly adds pressure that Marichat removes. The existence of this version that means I don't hate Marichat or even the words "true self", I'm just warry when I see them as I never know what I'm about to see.

While I get why canon's near insta love and subsequent writing issues would draw a person to Marichat, I'll also once again argue that the issue at hand isn't the various ship dynamics, it's canon's writing as the awkward Marichat arc shows. Even though the crushes only flipped after four whole season, canon Marichat doesn't feel any deeper than canon Adrienette or canon Ladynoir. It's played incredibly superficial and doesn't even bother to acknowledge that Chat Noir and Marinette have a functional friendship as established in episodes like Evillustrator, Glaciator, and Glaciator 2. Elation writes Marichat as if they've never interacted before and Chat Noir is just going on a date with a fan he's never officially met. Passion writes Ladynoir as awkwardly as Adrienette always was. Ladybug's months of platonic partnership did nothing to change how she acts when she has a crush or how successful she is at confessing.

In a better show, canon's Marichat arc would be used to set up Adrienette as a more solid couple. Marichat would allow Adrien to see that Marinette loves him even when he's being goofy, but they'd agree to not date because a hero and a civilian dating is too risky. Then Adrienette would happen and, oh look, Adrien can occasionally crack jokes and be silly because he knows Marinette can love him even when he's at his most Chat Noir in addition to being his most Adrien. Marinette is a little surprised, but fine with it. Canon doesn't go there though. As far as the show is concerned, Marichat essentially never happened. It was a one-off fever dream both characters completely forgot. Canon Adrienette has Adrien playing the perfect flawless boyfriend who never annoys Marinette with his jokes.

In summary, that post wasn't about saying that Marichat is bad or unhealthy or that there's no version of the true selves thing that's cute. It was me venting a bit after seeing one too many instances of people acting like Ladrien, Ladynoir, and Adrienette could never be healthy because friends to lovers is some sort of golden standard when it's absolutely not. It's a neutral preference. Each side is fine. What matters is how you write it.

Why the "True Selves" Theory is Insulting

Image for a second that you have a friend who's a bit of a ditz. She's also fun, creative, and sweet. You enjoy being around her, but you've never seen her as more than a friend. Then, one day, a fire breaks out at an event that you and your friend are attending. Your lives are suddenly in mortal peril and the same goes for everyone around you because you can't find the exit. You think that you're going to die.

Then, suddenly, your friend transforms. Not in a magical way, it's just a personality shift, but it might as well be magical because it's like nothing you've ever seen! The ditziness is gone, replaced by laser focus and a take-charge attitude that has everyone following your friend without question. When all is said and done, everyone lives because of you friend. As it turns out, her tendency to get easily distracted means that she's a fantastic in-the-moment problem solver.

Going through that completely changes how you see this girl. You no longer just like her, no, you're now deeply in love with her. You tell a mutual friend about this and they laugh at you, then say, "Don't be silly, that wasn't really her! Her true self isn't that brave girl who saved your life! That was special circumstances that don't count. All that counts is the way she acts when there isn't a crisis going on. It doesn't matter that you've always liked her and enjoyed her company, if you didn't fall in love with based solely on her ditzy self, then you don't really love her."

Most people would call this mutual friend insane because of course going through crazy experiences changes the way we view people! Imagine if you had an allergic reaction and your significant other's reaction was to panic and run away, leaving you to die. You only live because you manage to grab your phone and call '911.' That would understandably lead many people to reassess if this is the person they want to spend their life with just like the opposite experience might make you see a person as a good life partner.

Marinette is Ladybug. She gets full credit for everything she's done in the suit and it's perfectly fine for Adrien to become attracted to her after he sees her in action. It doesn't mean that he only values her Ladybug side. He quite clearly cares for Marinette, he just hasn't seen her in the right light for him to fall in love. (And, if we're being frank, Marinette acts like Ladybug all the time when he's not around or when he is around, but a crisis is going on. She's really not that different from her alter ego.)

Along similar lines, Marinette isn't wrong for being drawn to Adrien's sweeter side more than his over-the-top jokey side. There's a reason why Glaciator ended with her blushing. Compare the end of Glaciator to the end of Origins and, yeah, same energy because - in that moment - Chat Noir was letting his Adrien side out by being more sincere and vulnerable, which are the things that Marinette values most in a romance and the things that he rarely shows while in the mask. It doesn't mean that she hates his jokey side, it's just not going to win her heart when Adrien's right there being sweet and sincere while Chat Noir hides his feelings behind a smile and a laugh.

In fact, it's pretty insulting to Adrien to say that someone shouldn't be attracted to his more vulnerable side. That his sincerity is worth less than his jokes. Almost as insulting as telling Marinette that her Ladybug side doesn't count and she should get no credit for being brave as that's not really her. Loving her only counts if a person falls in love while she's behaving in her most over-the-top, cringe, embarrassing way.

I don't know about you, but I would never want someone to hold me to that standard nor would I hold my significant other to that standard! It's perfectly normal to have things that you don't love about your significant other. In fact, I'd argue that part of the magic of a real, lasting romance is having someone who loves you even though you're not perfect. If you are looking for a partner who never annoys you or does something wrong, then you will never find happiness because that person does not exist.

Now that I've said all of that, I want to add that I do think that marichat, "love both sides" stories can be cute. It's just not One True Path to Real Love. It's totally fine if the square starts dating based on the things that they find attractive about each other and then just continue to be in love as they learn about the other side. If anything, that's normal. Learning about a person is what dating is all about! A good relationship is no different than a good friendship, you just get some bonus perks if you're into that kind of thing.

I'll also note that I'm not criticizing stories where Marinette feels like she's the "real" version and Ladybug is the fake because that's a really understandable thing to be nervous about. Tikki saying that shit? Hard no. Terrible mentoring.

[dervampireprince]

i feel like how i think about and characterise lucifer in sexual scenarios it so different from most of the fandom. and that's okay, honestly it's interesting to me to see people interpret a character in different ways, but if you don't like thinking about lucifer romance or redemption arcs then this post isn't for you.

[18+ only, minors dni]

thoughts about lucifer x gender neutral-ish reader thoughts. (reader is describes as having a clit and vagina, this is post is written by a trans man)

so i'm talking about a lucifer who has lost, i think he has to lose and fail at the apocalypse in season 5, he has to be shown he can be overpowered, he has to be shown that his father's plans and prophecies can be changed and are actually just bullshit. so this is a lucifer who still failed in season 5, and gets freed from the cage like in season 11, still using nick's body.

and i like to lean into lucifer's inhuman-ness and trauma because i find that interesting and is that because i can relate to parts of him... yeah sure of course.

i see a lot of interpretations of him where he's written as having had a lot of sex, of having a lot of casual sex with you before any feelings take place, of being crass and crude and and i just... i don't think he's ever had sex. i think he's disgusted by humans and that includes the things they do with each other.

i think he has to fall for you first (poor choice of words, i know).

i think you have to be at least a little nice to him. not naive, you know what he is, who he is and what he's done, but if he's here you're at least going to talk to him, not avoid him, not yell at him every conversation. and he's never really just sat down and talked with someone in a long time.

of course he'll tease you, and he'll try and push your buttons and make you hate him, people are supposed to hate him, you're supposed to hate him, why don't you hate him?

and he hates that he likes spending time with you. he doesn't want to need or want anyone, but of course he craves it. that desire to rule and be worshipped is just his desire to be loved, a craving for what he once had but was ripped from him.

you find yourself enjoying spending time with him, teasing him back, even standing up for him when he does actually keep his word. and it surprises him.

you tell him he can be anything he wants, that he doesn't have to be defined by his past and certainly not what his father says he is. screw the idea of fate and destiny. who are you lucifer? who do you want to be? and he doesn't really know anymore. he doesn't really want to end the world, hasn't for a while now. but he doesn't know what else he could be if he casts aside all the labels he's gained.

he couldn't ever make the first move, if he realises he loves you. and he could love you. you're so warm and full of light, everything that he used to be but isn't anymore. but his grace sings for you. you make him feel like he actually could change, that it could be worth it to change.

and he wouldn't be good on dates. he wouldn't buy you gifts, wouldn't know what a human would want anyway. it's not easy to have him be in public, he's too agitated, too ready to be snarky to anyone walking past, too ready to complain about everything. but let him? be patient with him, let him complain, join in with him, ask him his opinions on things, let him figure out how to be himself and show him he's not gonna put you off.

you would have to make the first move. and if you told him you loved him, he would panic. perhaps even teleport straight out of there. but he'd come back. you deserve that at least. and you'd tell him again. you'd let yourself be alone with him. give some trust to him, let him have you.

he'd be so touch starved. even in this stupid human body, he would shiver if you touched him. ask if he can touch you, if you'd let him, ever checking for your consent. and all those stupid human activities he never understood the want for, he craves them now.

he love kissing you, could get addicted too it, how you gasp and cling to him. sadly he normally forgets you also need to breathe. the first time he realises he can slide his tongue into your mouth and the sound you make is going to stay with him. he's going to replay that in his mind. or even better, he'll figure out how to get you to make that sound again.

he doesn't take sex lightly. he wants to make you feel good. he wants to learn what you like, where your most sensitive spots are, and prod them until you see stars. he's not experienced, but a fast learner, and more than willing to try out whatever ideas of kinks you have. he's actually excited at the idea of learning more about you, getting to do more things with you. for all his lack of experience, he's smug, he knows when he's made you feel good.

he's so good with his mouth. eating you out like he's worshipping you. lapping at your clit, forked tongue twisted around it, almost as if it's trying to jerk you off.

telling you how pretty you are, how well you take his fingers, then his cock. amazed that you're letting him do this. amazed at how much he likes it, how good it feels. how you've finally let him inside you.

it feels good everywhere you touch him. before you touch his cock he's already dripping just from your hands on his face, his neck, running down his sides. he's so needy and eager.

if you can see and touch his wings... well... he can't bear to let you see them at first. they're not going to be like whatever you've pictured. he's fell. and then he was in the cage, burning, in pain, for so long. but they're part of him and you tell him you'll love every part of him. his wings are scarred, once white now charred black and red in most places, and they clearly haven't been loved in a long time.

you're gentle with him, straightening feathers, removing debris, and he's shaking. shaking and panting by the end, hiding his face from you. you're worried you've hurt him once you notice he's been crying, but you haven't. he's overwhelmed by now long it's been since anyone touched them, how wonderful it feels to have someone touch them. you assure him that they're beautiful, that he's beautiful, you're angel, that despite how much he thinks he has dimmed that he still shines brightly to you.

he warps them around you like a cocoon the first time you have sex with his wings out, wants to keep you safe in them, not let anyone or anything hurt you. (he's always worried that he'll be the one to hurt you, even though he never wants too). if you tell him you love him during sex, if you intertwine your fingers with his, it makes him come faster and harder but he'll never tell you that.

with more experience, and the power of searching the internet, comes more adventurous encounters. he learns what he likes. and what he likes is: overstimulating you, making you come over and over again, he just wants to make you feel good, won't like let him make you feel good? especially overstimulating you with his mouth. his ego is still always there, tell him no one else could please him like you, no one could ever make you feel this good, praise him, call him beautiful, tell him he's good, tell him he fills you so well, that he fits perfectly inside you, call him your king or god and he might just come on the spot. honestly just say his name, or moan it, and that does a lot to him. love being deep inside you, legs over his shoulders, or pressing you deep into the bed from behind. he'd enjoying tying you up, the trust that comes with that, letting him touch you and use you (same goes for if you tell him you want him too fuck you in your sleep or fall asleep with him inside you). perhaps being slightly risky, having you in the bunker while others are around, teasing you that you have to keep quiet otherwise you'll be heard, 'so needy for me, couldn't even wait until everyone was gone to have me'. surprisingly, likes it when you mark him. he's as much yours as you are his, it makes him reassured that he's wanted.

but i'm just a soft boy who likes the idea of someone who's been hurt learning to let people love them and be able to love others idk maybe you think this is all super out of character for him and that's okay. it's all just my opinions and headcannons on a fictional character.

[docholligay]

sounds like you successfully argued to have migrants put in PRISON instead of the equivalent of a hurricane/emergency evac center :/

So i had a whole, really cutting takedown of this statement, and, in general, the smattering of bad faith engagement I've had with a post that went far beyond my usual reach so wasn't written with as many protections against folks looking for a crack in the wall.

But being mean to someone, who, in any case only believes what they are saying so far as they can be anonymous while doing it, isn't helpful. It doesn't inform you any better, it doesn't inform anyone of how to go about this stuff, it just makes feel good that I, what? Made someone on tumblr look silly? Everyone claps? Jesus Christ what a waste of life.

So, let me tell you what actually was successfully argued. What was argued was that the one place in the state that had been offered up by the politicians was rejected by its people. There may be one someday, but not here and not today.

The prison that guy mentioned? (It was not me, but you'd be forgiven for thinking it--this went around with an INSANELY, fox newsbite level, bad faith crop that made me immediately regret not editing better) It's not owned by the state. I went and looked it up later. It's owned by the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Supposedly they are running it for their own use. It's gonna be a lot harder to get them to use that.

What we successfully argued, is delaying the implementation of anything. Delaying is a huge part of resistance. Every headache you give people, every hour you cost them, is a win. We cannot afford to wait for utopia, and perfection, and a savior. Some of our greatest weapons in life are delaying, and feigned incompetence, and picking at threads. Especially if you live in a red area, sometimes you gotta go, "Oh sure, yeah, but you know, not THERE, and...no, not there either, cause of X, and, man, Y is almost a perfect place but I just can't sign off on it because..." you see what I'm saying? Oskar Schindler was arguing he needed Jewish children to polish the insides of gun barrels.

The other thing that was argued, is when the commissioner said, 'We'll bend over backward to accommodate your orders," we said, "No we won't." And that goes much further than any site. It sends a small message, that, even in a red part of a red state, not everyone is falling into line. This is why action matters.

I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, and my work in political arenas is not either. But, I have been doing stuff in political arenas since Obama, and, I have always worked here, in this very complicated place. I am an extremely pragmatic worker. I do what works. I don't care much about the appearance of goodness. Sometimes delaying a project is what it takes. Sometimes, in life, you lose anyway. But that doesn't make the delaying worthless. I have lost a lot of fights, and I am going to be set up to lose a lot more. But, today? An offer had to be withdrawn. And that's something.

I hope you come back, and reread both the post and this response, and, even if you disagree with me, have a different perspective on how political action can be approached. More than that, I want it to give you hope that even small, imperfect actions matter. The perfect is the enemy of the good. And the good is the enemy of the literally accomplished.

[stupidlittlespirit]

Just cuz I love all of your takes on Ford- what do you imagine a tipsy/drunk Ford to be like?

Thank you! And good question!

I know it's mentioned in TBoB that Ford doesn't drink much at that point but I firmly believe he grows to do it a little more later down the line. There's no way someone goes through all that trauma and doesn't resort to a few bad habits, no matter how smart you are.

I think it probably helps him loosen up and lowers his guard a little. He'd likely only do it in a safe place, like at home or whatever, I can't see him going to a bar or anything and getting drunk because he'd need to stay hypervigilant (yay trauma!).

I have some dialogue written for a scene in a fic that I want to flesh out eventually, and in it he stumbles over more simple words but is perfectly able to say something complex. (“God, no. I have autonomy, you know? I'm perfectly capable of making my own horrible deciss- decis-.... choices,” He settles on finally.) So he can use 'autonomy', but 'decision' is too much of a tongue twister for him in the moment. I think it's cute that he'd trip over his words when he's usually very well spoken. Also, I like the idea that maybe he just starts speaking in an alien language when he forgets the human word for something. The wires in his brain cross and he shorts out for a second haha

He'd continue to misunderstand literal things, too. If they don't make immediate sense to him (and they won't because he's pissed) then he misinterprets their literality initially.

But I can see him shedding some of his shyness. He's probably quite boisterous and he gets talking a lot easier. I can picture him absolutely going off about something he's passionate about more so than normal, even if he's slurring and wobbling. If I think back to some conversations I've had in pub gardens (the ones I can remember....), most often they tend to be very free and loose, and people find it easier to get into what's being discussed because they lose a bit of their social anxiety.

Again, because he'd probably only do it in a safe space or with someone safe, I like to think that he'd get a little tactile. He'd be more willing to touch someone as he spoke, like for example: He makes a joke or loses himself in a passionate point, and he places a hand on their forearm or their knee. Not in a sexual way to begin with (or with anyone who wasn't his partner) just in a friendly, personal way. I genuinely think his 'love language' is touch, and the barriers to expressing that are reduced with a bit of alcohol in the system, so he'd be inclined to reach out a little more.

In a more intimate way, I think he'd be more casual about displays of affection. Not like making out in the corner or anything, but he'd put an arm around a partner without even really noticing. Maybe he'd touch the back of their neck gently, just running his fingers over the nape without ever acknowledging it.

I can definitely see him being less 'straight laced', too. He would laugh a lot more and make jokes or be sillier without inhibition. I think when he's sober, he's still very funny and whimsical, but mostly in relation to his passions. When he's under the influence, he's a little more inclined to just be generally silly. He's not going to make a total tool of himself (and no one that cared about him is going to tempt him into doing anything that would make that happen), but he'd be more relaxed with letting go. The shyness would exist but he'd be less inclined to clam up totally.

Behind closed doors with a partner, he's going to go the horny route. Whether or not he'd fall victim to whiskey dick, given his age especially, I don't know, but it wouldn't stop him from wanting to be of use, if you catch my meaning....... I can see him using that lack of care over being tactile to ramp up his display of just how horny he is: The touches gradually changing from touching their knee to holding their thigh, or to using any excuse to put his hands on them in a PG context but with 18+ intentions, if that makes sense? So he'd ghost his fingers up and down his partner's bare arm but they way he looks at them suggests there's a lot more heat behind it than the actual action displays.

He'd be messy, too. Sloppy. Again, more relaxed and uncoordinated means his actions aren't quite as calculated as he thinks they are. I think this could give way to him overstepping once or twice, so he'd thinks he's being subtle with his touches but he's very clearly coming onto his partner in plain view because he's kind of forgotten himself momentarily. Nothing over the top, just more so than he would usually do. He's bolder.

And also, he'd be a cheeky smoker. Nothing tastes better than a drunk cigarette.

[galaxymagitech]

Guide to Jaybin: The Origin Story

Pre-Crisis — Batman #357 to Detective Comics #526

Featuring Pre-Crisis weirdness, adorable Jason, and analysis of Bruce and Dick's arguments.

I am reading all of Robin!Jason Todd's comics in order, starting with his pre-crisis origin. Here are thoughts, mostly characterization and relationship focused, on this set of comics. (In the future, I might break stuff like this into multiple posts, because this ended up being pretty long).

Not-So-Serious Summary: Killer Croc, a new mobster in town, teams up with a disgruntled spy with a speech impediment (Squid), who he eventually kills. Croc tries to take over Gotham's crime scene and kill the Batman. Joker takes issue with this, and tries to play Croc and the other Gotham Rogues against each other. A family of circus acrobats, the Todds, get in the middle and end up fed to crocodiles. Meanwhile, Jason Todd is taken to Wayne Manor for his safety, where he finds the Batcave and stows away to help. Batman, Robin, and a vengeful Jason defeat Killer Croc.

Most Unhinged/Funny Moments

Batman breaks into a shooting range, beats people up, kidnaps a man, ties him up in the Batcave, and tells him that no one knows he's there and he has no rights. Meanwhile, Robin's sitting there, grinning and talking ominously.

I'm sorry, but this sounds very gay.

Characterization

Bruce — Refers to criminals as “creeps,” “thugs,” and “scum." Throws himself into danger and displays cartoonish righteousness. All fairly typical for 1980s Batman, unfortunately, and he still seems pretty human and warm in this arc. Although he believes that Squid maybe "deserved to die," because he's "scum," he doesn't allow that in Gotham. Oh, and he makes puns, complete with a "get it? I think he got it."

Dick — He's kind and compassionate, and prone to guilt. He's also very involved in Gotham's social sphere, and is able to competently host a reception.

Jason — Fairly generic. He's friendly and polite, but is way too willing to pick up an old Robin costume to help. When his parents die, he's vengeful and has to be restrained, but he quickly devolves into shaking and crying.

Relationships

Bruce & Dick

Bruce is naturally paranoid and wants Dick to be more cautious as well, which is a point of contention between them.

He knows he and Dick are drifting apart and is afraid of this.

For most of the arc, they're warm and friendly with each other.

However, near the end of the arc, Bruce randomly blows up at Dick and starts yelling at him, before pushing Alfred’s tray to the ground. Real mature, Bruce. Dick angrily says Bruce is “getting to be a stranger” to Alfred.

To Bruce's credit, he immediately regrets his actions.

I am tempted to make an analysis about this panel, but this read is supposed to be about Jason. So just briefly...

Bruce is partially to blame for the Todds' deaths.

Yelling "to hell with you!" is pretty nasty but okay.

Alfred, telling Dick "I'm sure he didn't mean it, Master Dick" is really unnecessary.

Dick was really not doing anything wrong, from his perspective Bruce just blew up unpredictably out of nowhere.

Bruce is really resentful about Gotham's citizens.

Bruce uses "Richard" instead of "Dick" to display his anger.

Mitigating Circumstances: The dramatic comics poses probably make the argument seem worse than it is. Also, Bruce is having a crisis right now over how Killer Croc saved his life and he subconsciously let Croc go in return.

Dick & Jason

Dick becomes friendly with Jason's parents and Jason, partially because Trina Todd reminds him of his mother.

Gordon blames Dick for the Todds' deaths because he had them investigate (despite him stating that them following Croc wasn't ever the plan, and him trying to convince Bruce to stop using the Todds for the plan and getting yelled at in response).

Dick feels responsible for the Todds' deaths and has grown to care about Jason, so he wants to adopt Jason. Bruce offers to adopt Jason instead, because "if it's anyone's fault it's mine".

Dick is happy about this and voluntarily tells Alfred to put Jason in his old room.

Notes/Trivia

Jason-Related

Jason comes from the Flying Todds at the Sloan Circus, (run by a guy named—you guessed it—Sloan) and Dick is friends with one of their clowns, Waldo.

His parents are Joseph and Trina Todd. Their uniforms are red or pink, depending on the panel.

The Todds are the finest trapeze troupe in America or Europe, according to Dick.

Upon meeting Robin…Jason immediately asks about Wonder Girl. Dick’s response? “You’ve got taste.”

Other

Commissioner Gordon is 60 and has a high blood pressure

Waldo calls Dick “Dickie Boy,” so that’s a known nickname for Dick

Croc is displaying fairly reasonable planning skills? He’s certainly not a brainless brute in this.

Bruce and Dick wear their costumes upstairs in the Manor. Alfred brings them refreshments without questioning their costumes, so this is a normal occurrence.

Killer Croc is fixated on the sanctity of his home. When Batman breaks into, he decides it’s “ruined” and has to start over.

Talia says Bruce is “the one man [she’ll] never go against—never!”

Alfred does indeed give comforting hot cocoa.

Characters sometimes call the Joker "Harlequin."

[astracora]

EVER's Tool - Chapter 4

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc, Caleb x gn!mc (Zayne POV/MC POV/Caleb POV)

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, Angst, Talk of EVER Experiments and Torture, Violence, Gore, Suicide Ideation, Spoilers for all current story as of Caleb release.

Word Count: 10112

Written: 14th February 2025

Notes: Established-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. My notes today are that I fought for my life with this one (dramatic), because I cannot multitask for shit, and I am grinding tkrb instead of writing. Oopsies. Happy Valentines Day all, I hope you have/had a good day. ❤️ Take some nasty angst as a present. I'm going to sleep (aka grind more tkrb and fall asleep until my phone hits me in the face when I drop it).

Now Playing: The Dark of You, By Breaking Benjamin

Masterlist AO3

<- Previous

Zayne is a doctor, he understands the concept of amnesia. He has experience with dementia patients, those who have been in accidents. He knows that some never get their memories back, he knows that pushing and rushing can create emotional strain, stress and anxiety. That asking questions the patient has no answers for, can hurt them.

He knows, objectively, that he should not bombard you with information. That he could make it worse, even worse he could aggravate your heart, and cause a relapse. He could hurt you, rather than help you, by trying to bring you back to yourself. If he rushes… if he loses the logical part of his brain… if he isn't careful.

He does not sleep when he is given a cot by the scientist you sneered at. He sits and he thinks and he stews. Working through the situation in his mind, he takes the tracker Sylus gave him off, and sticks it somewhere out of sight. Just in case. He doubts EVER are stupid enough to not have signal blockers in place, but he also knows that if it is cut off at some point, that will give his family something to work with.

If they know he has it though, there's a chance they'll move him. Or worse. He has a chance, right now, and he needs to be careful. He has to be smart.

It's difficult, though, when he saw you, when you raised a hand to him, to Sylus. When you fought and you hurt. He fights with himself, reminds himself that he is a doctor. That he can help you, like he would with your heart, like he would with any other injury. He can help you with this.

Even if his heart and mind are screaming at odds.

He's always been fairly good at listening to his mind… he just hopes it doesn't betray his heart.

Regardless of his sense of logic, he cannot simply sleep. There's a feeling over his shoulder that he's waiting to be watched, like if he sleeps someone will snatch him up. It's a paranoid sense of disturbance, that he cannot shake. Unable to relax in any real way. Unable to even feel tired, let alone finally sleep. So he sits, and he thinks.

For hours. He ignores the scientist, Leon. He calls out, asks to talk, and Zayne ignores him. There's nothing to say. He has been through this process, Carter asks, he rejects. They continue the cycle.

He wonders how long EVER will ask, now that he is here. How much patience they can possibly have.

If the anxieties of his family were anything to go on, when they were hunting, pulling in favours, chasing through the underworlds, he doubts it's plentiful. He cannot imagine anyone willing to experiment past the edges of morality, will hesitate too long on the cliff of conscience.

It is when he hears your voice through the feeble door, that he finally raises himself up. Takes the clothes he has been given, there is little else in this room, it's a broom closet, more than a room. He cannot clean up, cannot go through routines that give him some semblance of comfort. So he decides to simply face it, he has to.

"Where is your guest?"

Zayne looks at you, really looks. He had seen you in that cafe, had noticed the claw at your side in a flash out of the side of his vision. It is something else to see it in the lab's bright lights. As you growl at Leon, he sees fangs peeking out under your lips. Inhuman and out of place, though he remembers seeing something similar when you had been cursed by cats.

These are tinged red, from biting into your lip, and you twitch and clench your claw to a fist. He recognises the motion, normally you would seek out a hand, or someone's clothes to hold onto. To ground yourself. Later, twirling a dagger when on a mission, after Sylus taught you how.

His own hand reaches out on impulse as he approaches, to take yours. To ground you. To ground himself. It is a reflex that he has to pull back, reign in and remind. You will not take kindly to a stranger touching you. The feeling is like a shard of ice through his chest, that he is a stranger.

A target.

The kind of realisation that shatters at hope.

He thinks of moments when Rafayel had drunk too much, on days you were out on missions. The Lemurian had bemoaned the tides, the pains of being forgotten, the agony in his chest for things he didn't fully explain. Like he was offering Zayne parts of a puzzle, but holding back the box. He had only gleaned some sense out of the heartbroken Lemurian, placing a head in his lap, and running fingers through hair and over skin, wiping cried pearls away.

That memory was a fragile thing, that he already knew, saw shades of it when you reconnected, when you looked at him and didn't hate him for the way he had hurt you in your youth. Barely recognised stories he shared, only realising later when the recognition took longer to shine in your eyes. That the albums he had seen Caleb tend to with you, were for a purpose. To protect your memory, to strengthen the foundations.

That, despite the pain, he saw the same thing in Rafayel's heart that he saw in Caleb's in his childhood. A sheer determination, that no matter how many things were forgotten, that there would be more memories. Endless as the sky.

It kept the small jasmine of hope protected against the cold.

He still sees you, in the way you talk. There is none of what Xavier and Sylus recollected from their first run-in with you. None of the cold chill to your eyes like the previous day. He recognises this you, though you're short and you're angry. There's a familiarity to the casual tone, to the way you interact. Underneath the new scars he can see, the unfamiliar attachment, and the gold flickering around the edges of your eyes, you are there.

If he can only draw you out.

It should be a relief that you are forced to spend time with him, though the idea of you spending time with him under duress makes him feel sickened, instead he realises it is a threat. That like Carter has teased, multiple times, he would do anything for you. That all he has done in his pursuit of studying the heart, has been to save you.

Can he really keep that moral code, that the you now teases him for, when there is a chain around his love, keeping them at EVER's feet? It is a question that he truly hopes he never finds an answer to. He just needs time.

There are so many questions Zayne wants to ask you, so many things he needs to learn, to understand. Like there's a door he can push open if he gets the right key, and things will settle into place. It's a naive little thing, like every promise he makes against his logical judgement for an eternity.

Instead, his eyes are drawn to your bared arm, the lightning scars visible from yesterday, and he falls into familiarity, "Are you alright?"

He tries to offer the same smile he's offered to his patients, despite how he worries that it might tremble when you flinch away from him. Looking at him like he has lost his mind, irritated by his questioning.

So he tries again, tells you that it's natural for a doctor to worry. It's not a lie. Any real doctor would be concerned for others, their lives, especially if they were injured in front of them. There's a deeper, consistent reasoning. He loves you, your life means more to him than his own ever could. You're hurt, and even if he hadn't been your doctor for so long, not being able to help you, cut more than he expected.

Wrestling with the feeling, of wanting to reach out, to hold your hand, soothe aches and pains. Check your health, make sure you're alright. To be the one to heal you. Instead, he simply watches, the pout on your face as you respond to him in irritation. The way your gaze wavers when you look away. It's akin to embarrassment, a look he's seen on you when he teases, and you aren't sure how to respond.

You're out of your depth. It's endearing, even when you bite without cruelty.

He watches as you look past him, the gold in your eyes flickering, filling your irises. Leaning forwards, he reaches a hand out, waves it but you don't react. The gold flashes silver, and he finally finds his voice, "Darling?"

It slips out, but he watches as you blink. As the gold and silver filter away, and the familiar mismatch of your eyes returns to him. As you look at him, warmth in your eyes for a moment, and a flicker of a warm smile as you shiver, before you are this you again. You avoid his hands again, and sink your fang into your lip. He wants to reach out but he does not want to feel the sting of your withdrawal again.

He finds relief in the fact you have taken care of your wounds, as reserved about it as you are. So he tries something else. Decides to rattle you, watches you make him hot chocolate. You're short with him now, demanding he stay. There's a bite to your words, but your eyes…

You're sad. He doesn't know why, there's too much he doesn't know. What they've done to you, what you've been through in the months you've been separated. The way your shoulder droops as you make his drink, more careful with your actions. Carefully pouring, stirring with your left hand. For a second, he lets himself imagine you're home again. That he's sat working at the kitchen bar, Sylus reading a book nearby, Rafayel playing an overly noisy game on his phone, Xavier half reading a book and half drifting to sleep.

You're making drinks for them, humming and bobbing your head to music that is as familiar to him now as everything else in their home.

When you turn to hand it to him, he is still in that daydream. Taking it with hands too cold, and sipping. It is only when you point out the risk, that he pulls out of the fantasy.

That you are watching him, again, like he is insane, and every moment you call him Doctor is a spear.

He spent so long trying to be Zayne for you again, to overcome walls he had placed between you. Icy thorns, tangled around his heart, forcing his hand to be steadier. Controlled. He has lost so much time running from you, before he could finally open up, finally take your hand freely. Finally have you close to him, opening doors to the tower, letting him walk freely wherever he wanted.

Without fearing the ice as much as he had.

It's like he is back in the moment of when you first walked back through his door, keeping your distance. Calling him doctor, reacting with a lack of recognition when you see his face. There's even more of a frost to you now, and his title is bitten off.

He wonders how many doctors in EVER treat you with the same kindness those in Akso have.

He doubts any.

When you growl his name out, glaring at him, he cannot help the feeling. Like he's won something, he thinks it might be the same feeling he has when he has won a plushie out of the claw machine for you. Victory and pride, and warmth in this chest at the crooked smile you gave him. Even if you and Rafayel often tease him for not being very good at it.

Zayne learns a lot just watching, he's always needed to be observant, and the flickering of the gold of your resonance, over your skin, up your wanderer prosthetic, is uncontrolled. Driven by fluctuating emotions, that you cannot comprehend. He's familiar with the struggle, and he knows it is something you had struggled to learn. Now you are back at the space without the skills to navigate, with no comfort or safety to try.

"Did they hurt you?"

It feels like a stupid question, he can see new scars, that he has not traced with his fingers. He can see the shades of fear in you as you flinch out of his grasp. EVER have hurt you, he knows that.

Yet… he needs to know. Has to understand, if he ever hopes to fix it. He cannot cure something that he cannot see.

There's some guilt, that he could not help, that he has not been here. It's a pointless thing, to feel guilt. He is one man, all of his family cannot fight against EVER without struggling against it. Still… he cannot help but guilt when he sees your hand press to your chest. Is it a physical pain or an emotional one?, he wonders. Unable to ask. Press, push and pull like he wants.

You are not close enough to answer him. Biting back at all of his questions, bristling at him when he pries.

So when you question him, looking at him as you bring up the name he has called you so often, his heart skips. Darling has been as familiar on his tongue, as his own name could be. He remembers the moment he had first called you it, felt the heat on your cheeks, the glistening in your eyes. The way you had turned away to hide it, only to be pulled back to him. So that he could kiss you.

Whispering it against your lips. Tasting the sigh of his name in return. It had taken so much restraint from him to stop, when you needed to breathe. He was so desperate, his control fraying, his mind tumbling around the sensation, the need, the yearning. Everything he wanted, in his hands.

It fits you better than the words of EVER, ever could. You are not their weapon, or their rare beast to keep in a cage. You are his Darling. Rafayel's Cutie. Xavier's Starlight. Sylus' Kitten. You are you.

When Unicorn leaves his lips, he feels sickened by it. It is not you. It's not right, and he watches the flicker of pain in your eyes, like you wish he'd never said it. He wishes he had not, he wishes he could call you anything else. That the pain as you press to your chest was not so stark, that he could ignore it for a moment longer, to whisper your name.

It is patience, it is process. Medicine is not a quick and easy journey. Struggles with memory are never so simple to fix. He cannot say a word and watch you be healed in front of his eyes.

He has to remind himself. He has to remember.

Even if you cannot.

He can, and he can find a path forward.

Out of all the things that he wishes to know, he faces your wary gaze with a simple thing. He finds the doctor's manual, and he processes.

Dealing with those with memory loss. Keep questions simple, without being belittling. Do not ask if they remember certain things. Offer conversation, help build up rapport.

He has to remember, because if he cannot be your lover, he will be your doctor. He has always cared first and foremost about keeping you healthy.

If the look you give him, upon questioning about hobbies, is anything to go on, he has succeeded somewhat in disarming you. He remembers your reaction to finding out he had toothache and had been avoiding the dentist.

Disbelief, amusement, and the need to tease. If you had a tail, it would have flicked.

You have wide eyes, and blink at him. Startled, and he thinks of a cat. Though he would not do Sylus the pleasure of agreeing with the 'Kitten' moniker too loudly.

As you gaze off, you describe Destiny Cafe to him. Starry eyed, with gold flickering around the edges. Fading out of focus. Your words stall, and his heart skips again.

Despite everything, despite the situation you are in… you are drawn to places that you and they have left marks. A place that is as familiar as home, at this point. It tempers, reminding himself that he cannot cling too blindly to hope. Yet… against his will, it is water for the small flower he protects.

If even part of you remembers, there is hope.

He will fix this, he will see you find yourself again, offer you sanctuary even if you do not trust easily, and he will wait and find a way to get out of this nightmare.

He promised a future, and he will not let it go.

After all, you helped cut through the icy thorns for him. He will help you break down EVER's bars around you.

At the very least, he has a chance. If you are to be forced to spend your time with him, then he can use it to his advantage. He can ignore the ache, and find a goal. He chased medicine all his life to cure your heart, he is not one to quit.

Not on you.

Even as he stares his dead childhood friend in the face. As purple and pink eyes look back at him coldly.

As you step back from between them, and raise a brow.

There are questions on Zayne's tongue. So many, too many. What has EVER done to those he cares for, to have laid their damned claws into everything? Is it the fact he feels the distance in Caleb, that keeps him from doing much but holding his gaze. There is a feeling of being watched by a snake, that he has never felt before.

The Caleb he knows, beyond being protective, was warm. Even if most of it was reserved for you.

Zayne has never felt like a threat, not like this.

"How are you?"

His words come out short, when Zayne finally manages to pull himself out of thought, "I have been better." He receives a laugh in response, as empty as the man's eyes. Like he finds the situation of little interest. Like his childhood friends being caged by EVER are not a concern to him.

This waking nightmare feels less real by the moment, as he looks at the uniform. As he picks out the Farspace Fleet insignia. As he sees the colonel badge. As he pieces the vision together.

There is a biting, and vicious question that is out of his character, but is full of frustration and anger at all the things he has seen. That reminds him of Sylus on the floor, in pain, gasping. That makes him see the wanderer claw out the corner of his eye. That sees him stitching up a deep gash in Xavier's chest. That hears the eulogy from the bathroom as Rafayel mourns.

How could you stand there and see this happen?

How could you see this and not fight?

How could you claim to care for them, and turn a blind eye to their suffering?

So much, too much. Overwhelmed and hurting.

If there is a god Zayne can believe in, he wishes they would make this nightmare end.

"You two know each other?" You finally speak up, looking between them, and Zayne sees it. The wary look in your eye as you look at Caleb, the way you do not stand closer to either of them. Whatever the situation has become, you are not sure where you stand.

Caleb must notice it too, looking down at you. There's more warmth in his eyes when his gaze holds yours, and Zayne almost can trick himself into believing it's the same Caleb he knows.

"We used to be old friends, didn't we?"

"I suppose so."

"So that's how they plan to convince you, Zayne? An old friend?"

He almost laughs, it has no humour, and it would be a broken rattling thing, but he almost does. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

You look incredulous at him, brow raised and chewing on your lip, like the idea is more confusing to you, than anything else right now. Like your dead best friend, is not the biggest question here. Like he is the odd one. He isn't lying to you either, the chain EVER want to place on him, is a reminder. Of the person he fought so hard to save, who is right in the grasp of people who would break you with such little effort.

It's simply not Caleb, who keeps him tethered.

It is not Caleb who reminds him that he is at EVER's mercy.

You say something under your breath, that he does not catch, shrugging to yourself.

"How about we chat, for a bit, Zayne? I'm sure Pipsqueak can go find some food, you haven't eaten yet, have you?"

This causes you to bristle, and Zayne watches as you move in front of him. Facing Caleb. There's a height difference, and you have to look up at him, but there's an immovable force. A tenseness to your claw, that reminds him that you are well trained.

And he is your job.

"Pipsqueak?" A flicker of doubt over Caleb's face, almost makes Zayne's anger temper. Almost.

"My job is to protect him, Caleb. I can't leave him alone."

There's a laugh, warm and jovial, as Caleb extends a hand towards your head, and goes to pat it, but you carefully move back a little more. Forcing Zayne back a step to avoid you bumping into him. It tapers out, the humour, and his eyes narrow up at Zayne like it is his fault, this is happening. "From me?"

"From everyone." Your voice is cold, the empty look in your eyes is back. The wall around you that forces the shocked, irritated looks to the back of his mind. The version of you he saw outside your home. Ready to hurt anyone in your path to fulfill your role.

The weapon EVER are so ready to throw at others.

Zayne watches, and he waits, in the course of your conversation he learned you carry out your jobs, no matter what. Even if you bristled at the orders. He wonders if you could bring Caleb to his knees like you did with Sylus, angry and snarling.

Caleb's eyes narrow, and then soften, his hands up. Appeasing, his smile is wide but Zayne can't feel the warmth from it. Too busy overlapping the chill in his gaze, with the friend he grew up with. "Alright Pipsqueak, I get it. No leaving the doctor alone, why don't I go and get us connected rooms sorted so it's easier to guard him?"

Your hackles raise, then ease, then settle. The gold that was drifting down your claw, now dissipates, leaving flickering around your eyes once more. You don't smile, but you do nod, "That would be helpful, thank you Caleb." This time when the hand extends to your head, you do not pull from Caleb, and Zayne finds himself irritatingly jealous.

It is a feeling he is not very familiar with, so used to reaching out and touching you. To knowing you inside and out. To being more than confident in every moment spent, every day lived, and every experience had by your side.

Now he is nothing more than a stranger, watching you pull away from him, into someone else's arms.

He's only slightly relieved when you seem to have enough of being touched, pulling back and indicating for him to follow, "Let's go, before there's no food left." You glance at Caleb, then back at Zayne, then urge him to keep up as you leave. He follows, as quickly as he can. Unwilling to strain the new found relationship, when he sees how wary you are of someone you trusted implicitly.

That if he came to it… he has no idea if you would align yourself with EVER, or with Caleb. Which is a question that while he never thought he would ask, he certainly never thought the answer would be so clouded in mystery.

As he leaves, his head slightly turns to glance at Caleb. The flash of hurt in purple eyes quickly smothered, makes him think he is not the only one with the question.

—---

Your time with Zayne is time you aren't sure how to fill. You cannot remember the last time you spent an extended period of time with anyone.

So you do what you can think of. Imagining he's a pet you have to take care of. It's an insulting assessment, but you know the basics for it better than you know the basics of general human survival. Eat, sleep, repeat, you think. Truthfully though, you don't want to parade the man around EVER's compound.

As you enter the canteen you see all the faceless white coats who you barely want to acknowledge, look up at your entrance. Unlike Zayne, who takes a cursory look around him, you keep eyes forward. There's nothing to be gained from their curiosity. Just more agony, and more probing questions.

At least the doctor's questions aren't met at the end of a scalpel you can feel in your flesh, like one of their cruel vivisections.

"Pick." You indicate the menu, looking over at the machines. It's a simple automated system, the less people in the compound the better. You see the OTTO bouncing about as they clean up, or bring trays to people.

It's a simple enough system, so you don't have to explain it, while you stand by his side and look around.

Shooting particularly sharp eyes at some scientists staring far too much at your new charge.

You hope, your only charge.

"Done." You look back and see he's inputted his choice, and then see that he's inputted for chocolate cake. He at least has the decency to look a little red faced when you raise a brow at him.

He's a mystery you won't entertain.

You can't.

So you shrug and shove in an order for whatever won't turn your stomach. You haven't eaten properly, besides some fruit slices, and you doubt you'll keep the prepared food down much longer than usual. Still, if you don't try you worry Leon will find out and inform the lab coats. Then you'll be hooked up to an IV, and forced through the process of keeping your body workable.

They can't risk a knife rusting, after all.

The canteen is as silent as it always is when you enter, like if they talk you'll bite. You're used to the treatment, but Zayne lets out a small chuckle, "Is it against the rules to talk when you're a member of EVER?"

You almost laugh, almost, biting it back down because it's not exactly inaccurate. Everyone here knows something, that if they shared would get them killed. Still, it's not that threat keeping them silent. "They're too curious about you Doctor Li." You respond, taking the trays away from the OTTO, shoving them at the Doctor so you're free just in case, and leading him to a table that keeps his back to the wall.

"Eat."

"Am I going to be ordered around a lot, going forwards? Is the correct response, yes zir?"

"The correct response is to eat. If you drop down out of malnutrition, I've failed my job."

"Ah, can't have a stain on your record now, can we?" There's no venom when he says it, and when you look at him, he does not look at you like he's picking a fight. His eyes aren't cold, in fact they're as warm as they always seem to be, but the words do hurt.

You aren't sure why. It should be a badge of honour, that you've never failed. Even in all your ignorance, though, you know blood on your hand is nothing to sing for.

Not in front of a man who has made promises to save people. You are diametrically opposed. 

He should hate you, for everything you represent. Instead he simply seems at peace to eat, next to you.

Surely it is an insanity, to sit next to a killer, and not even check your food for poison?

Still, would you hurt him? Not right now, you have your orders. To keep him safe, protect him. From anyone, even yourself.

Even Caleb…

The cold look in his eyes is embedded in your mind, the way he glared at Zayne, someone who should have been his friend. You look up at Zayne, watching him eat cake as if he hasn't a care in the world, but you notice the tapping of his finger against the table. It's quiet, and he's looking off as he eats.

You remember the anxious energy you get in your hand without your dagger to twirl.

Perhaps that's something you can understand. The mask. It makes him easier to understand, to believe.

You still can't bring yourself to ask.

Do you really want to know more about this man, to humanise him more than he already is, if the order comes down that he's not needed anymore?

"When did Caleb return?"

He does not give you the reprieve of avoiding it, but you're not even sure how to respond. If you should even tell him anything. You remember him picking at the fact this is personal information. It's not a threat to EVER. For all reasoning you have no orders to keep this secret. There's little stopping you sharing whatever you like.

Information is dangerous, in anyone's hands. Even if you feel a little foolish for thinking this doctor might not be one of them.

"Does it matter?"

He pushes some of the cake over to you, when he realises you've barely eaten anything. Picked at some vegetables, speared them around the plate and then ignored them. You hesitate before taking a bite, the sweetness spreading over your tongue.

For a moment you hear laughter, and see a warm smile, as you eat. Before it fades, and you hear him speak again, "He was dead for a year. I mourned him. I just want to understand what happened."

You see the flash of pain in his eyes, the way his tapping speeds up for a moment, before he pulls his restless hands out of your view. Steadying himself with an exhale.

You aren't sure what part of your twisted heart compels you… but you don't want to hide this information, "Yesterday, I saw him again yesterday. He told me he was gone for a year, but I don't remember anything beyond that."

"Nothing?"

You bristle, the idea of sharing anymore about it does not appeal, no matter how warm his eyes are. You aren't sure if it's protectivity over your own being, or if it's fear. So you clamp shut again, sitting back and pushing the cake back to him.

He seems to accept the close of topic, and tries something else, "Have you noticed anything-" He pauses, seems to think of how to word it, "Odd, about him?"

"Odd about me, Zayne? Am I so different?"

You look to the side, as Caleb approaches, his hat pulled down to cover his eyes somewhat. He's smiling, but it's the same smile you saw earlier. Chilling, and unwelcoming, even though when he turns to look at you. It blooms brighter.

You can't quite figure out what it means.

Why he would level a glare at someone he called a friend.

Or why it would make you feel like stepping away that you noticed it.

Zayne lets out a sigh, and you're impressed when his expression does not change at being heard, or when he simply raises his head to nod in greeting, "It's been a year. Everyone changes with time, Colonel."

"Please, how long have we known each other? It's Caleb." He pulls out a chair to join you both at the table, a steady smile on his face. Warmer now, like he's thawed.

You wait for a sign the frost is returning.

"Still have a sweet tooth? It seems some things don't change."

"If it isn't broken." Is the level response, as he finishes.

"I'm sure your dentist wouldn't agree." You respond, looking down at your plate, before you blink. Why… did you-

The chuckle is small, and warm eyes watch you when you raise your head at the sound. The doctor nods, "He wouldn't, no."

You try to hold his gaze, stunned at the way he watches you, at the words out of your mouth before you'd even processed you were speaking, and let out a tch. Turning your face away, catching Caleb watching you.

His expression is flat, before his eyes meet yours, and he smiles at you. Warm and sunny, "Are you finished?"

You look down at the still full plate and ache a little at the waste. You go through this process every now and then, order, stomach a bite, feel torn up, and stop. "I'm not hungry."

Zayne doesn't bring up your growling stomach from earlier, he simply watches like he wants to say something to you, but isn't sure what or where to begin. You can only imagine what an actually good doctor might say.

You're going to be sick. You're not taking care of yourself. You need to eat.

You know that, you know logically you need to…

You think about the pastries in the cafe, the only thing you'd managed to keep down. Maybe you could convince Leon to get you more.

Or would they turn to ashes in your mouth if you eat them in EVER's walls.

"How about I cook for you next time? It's been a while, after all." You flinch, looking up at Caleb. Like he's seen through you, like he knows more than you want him to. That feeling like he and the doctor can see through you. Read whatever they want through walls.

You want to shiver at it, but you also don't want them to see more. If there's even a point, anymore, to hiding.

"Surely you're busy with work for the fleet?" Zayne interrupts, "Do you have the time to spend here?"

A muscle in Caleb's jaw jumps, and you watch his eyes change, as he looks at Zayne, "I have plenty of time for when Pipsqueak needs me."

This time when Caleb talks, he keeps his gaze mostly on Zayne, but his voice is warmer, "How about we go to see Skyhaven soon, Pipsqueak, and I can make you food there?"

It's like you're watching a tug of war, in a game you don't even remember seeing start. You suddenly want to ask if friend is even the word for whatever these two are. You're almost sure a friend isn't supposed to glare at you.

Almost.

But you can feel eyes at your back, can feel too many people curious about the Colonel, and his conversation with EVER's pet, and the new doctor. Can already tell the second you leave this room, the gossip will become unbearable. You'll hear it in whispers for weeks at the least. Until another horrible thing happens to draw the vulture's attention.

So you push back out of your seat and look at Zayne, "We should go."

Before you can begin to force the man out of the room, Caleb stands, "What about a tour? I've sorted out the rooms, so we may as well show our dear doctor around, right Pipsqueak?"

"Can't we just give him a map?"

You barely have time to react when he ruffles your hair again, laughing at you, "Come on, be a tour guide for a little bit, instead of a guard."

There's a biting remark on the tip of your tongue, to the effect of 'I'm only spending time here to guard him.' It feels like too much effort though, to argue when you can see the immovable object that is Caleb.

Especially when Zayne steps over and nods, "It would be prudent to see the place properly."

You're sure he wants to investigate to figure out how to escape, if he's foolish enough to think that's an option, you may as well make your life easier and show him how it's not. At the very least you won't have to chase him through the corridors at any point, while he tries to find one door that will let him outside.

It doesn't sound like a good use of the time you don't spend sleeping.

"Fine."

So you follow along, truthfully, Caleb does the tour. You barely know where anything other than the training room and Leon's lab is. You can find your way mostly, but if anyone asked what rooms were what you'd be pointing them at the signs.

There's a small voice in the back of your mind, that wonders why Caleb, of all people, knows the place inside and out.

You remind yourself that EVER brought him back. Maybe in this specific compound.

It's a good enough reason.

So you allow yourself to be led around, nodding on occasion but mostly watching. Zayne, to try to puzzle out what is going through his head, and Caleb, to try to understand the feeling you've felt since that cold smile had shown on his face.

"Do you not spend much time in the compound?" Zayne asks you at some point while you're shrugging at an anecdote Caleb offers about a specific lab's work.

"I told you, I train, I get experimented on, I go to sleep. I only need three rooms for that. The rest of this place is a maze I have no interest getting lost in."

"They need more signs, otherwise one day I'm going to get a message from you going 'Hey Caleb I'm lost.' again."

Again?

It's cold. You're so cold.

Hair soaked to your skin, the chill biting at you.

Your chest aches and hurts and twists. Sobbing and choking and gasping on air.

It's so cold and you just want it to stop.

It's too much, why won't it stop?

"Pipsqueak, I found you."

"Pipsqueak?"

You stumble back at hands on your skin. Caleb pulls his own back to show you it, as you leave his grasp. The Doctor with his own outstretched. You shake your head, clearing it, fighting through the crackling edges of broken ghosts.

"I'm fine." It's broken and choked and cracking. You're not fine. You can't be. You need to be fixed, you need whatever is wrong with you to stop. "Just tired."

They don't believe you, you see the doubt in eyes. Worry, things you don't want to see.

You don't deserve it and you don't want it.

You can't keep looking at them.

"The joined room is ready, we can go back there, you can get some sleep, and Zayne can be safe in the next room over." Caleb offers, trying to catch your gaze, as you stubbornly keep your eyes away. "I can get him a book or something, that'll waste a few hours."

You're barely listening. You need to see Philip. Need him to fix your head.

If you tell him, maybe you won't be subjected to something more painful.

You force a nod, "Sure. Sleep." You're barely aware enough to be ashamed of how your voice breaks, how your fingers are trembling, so you shove them into pockets, and clench your claw into a fist. "Let's go."

You're a better tool than this, you're better at what you do than this… yet as you walk away, at no point do you turn to check your charge is safely following.

—----

Caleb tries to tell himself that you're fine, that you will be fine. As he sits near the bed where you're curled up in on yourself, he tells himself that. Over and over like a mantra. That you'll be alright.

He's angry, and frustrated, that part of EVER's plans involve dangling you around Zayne like some treat he'll get if he's a well behaved dog. If he follows their orders and does what they ask. That you don't understand the game you're being played as a pawn in. That you don't have the answers.

There is a tearing in his heart, that cannot decide whether telling you is better than keeping it secret. The more you know, the better prepared you will be… the more you know, the more at risk you are of fighting back. He cannot put ammo in your hands, that will inevitably end up in your own head.

It is not a risk he will take. Not now, not now he finally has you back.

He gently takes your hand, to press a kiss to the back of it, as you talk in your sleep. Another trait that has not dissipated along with your memories.

For a moment, Caleb wonders what Zayne saw when he saw you. He's no fool, and he has kept a close eye. Has seen how close you have gotten to their common companion. Has watched dates with that 'family', the word turns his stomach, and seen the touches. The kisses, the contact. Has seen you smile and laugh and live happily with them.

He can touch you now though. His lips on your skin. His hand on your head. His body at your side in your sleep.

He is the only one you can really trust here, because he will never abandon you.

He will do whatever it takes, to protect you.

In a world with just the two of you.

His mind unwillingly calls up the cold look you had levelled him with. The way you had stood in front of Zayne like a guardian, had moved away from his touch, like he was the thing to fight against. That he was the enemy.

Caleb tries not to think of it, of the wary, chilled look. No recognition or acknowledgement. He tries to focus instead on the heat of you through his left hand. The scent of the shampoo you use. The soft exhales through your parted lips.

Today had called images into his mind that while he would hate to forget any part of you, the particular memories of his childhood were unnecessary. That even for a split second, as he'd walked with Zayne and you, he had felt like that young boy, playing with a younger you. That everytime he had turned around you were there, pulling Zayne along with you, in case he was left behind.

That there were days in warm summer sun where you had spent time on swing sets. Where on cooler days after school, you had studied together, Caleb trying to outpace Zayne so that he could be the one to show you how to do calculations. That he tried not to see times when you used your change to buy sweets, to share with Zayne so he wouldn't be embarrassed about his sweet tooth.

That he'd do something stupid to impress or appease one of your requests, falling or catching himself on something, only for Zayne to help clean his wounds and take care of his injuries. As much as he frowned and said he was fine. The older boy had simply carried on wiping with antiseptic, and carefully bandaging him up.

That all he needed to do was think about what games to keep you entertained, or what school work hung over your heads. That those warmer days faded after as you became older teens. As Zayne left, and he never really understood why. As your heart ached more and more, and you finally faced your painful reality.

As he watched his world start to shatter again. 

That finding time to just watch the sunset by the river was harder and harder to do, no matter how much time he wanted to make for you. How as time passed, that small smile and warm laugh got weaker and weaker, more withdrawn. Before you stopped altogether.

He had forgotten, he supposed, how cruel the world was to you both. Allowed himself to be foolish, allowed himself to forget Gran's words. 'Keep them safe'.

Now he was dealing with what he had wrought in his ignorance. His blind foolishness, had led to this outcome.

So he had to find a way to keep you safe.

He had to protect your world together.

No matter what it is that lies as a threat.

The door to Zayne's room is easily opened, and he does not knock, does not ask for entry. He pushes the door open and steps inside. He watches Zayne sit up, ice in his hand, the cold swirls travelling over his skin. He watches as the man's eyes move past him, through the gap in the door, to where you sleep.

Irritation swirls. A protective craving and bite. The thought of a rotting apple falling to the floor. He pushes it closed, so he won't be able to see you. He doesn't deserve to see you. He didn't protect you well enough either.

He failed to fix your heart too.

Zayne is just as foolish, if not more so, than he is.

"You're prone to sneaking around now Caleb?" If there's something to be said for Zayne, it is that his expression does not change when he looks at Caleb. When he sees the threat. He's always had little change to his face, even as kids. You were convinced he hated you for a long time, because of it. Caleb had known differently, but telling you so would require telling you how much Zayne had liked you.

It hadn't been a conversation he wanted to have.

"I wouldn't want to raise my Pipsqueak's ire again, now would I?"

"Their job is just to protect me, unless you plan to kill me-"

Caleb barely keeps himself from twitching, but he isn't convinced his expression is as level as he likes, the impulse to bare teeth at the man is immense. To suggest he would ever go out of his way to ruin one of your jobs, without a good reason. That the man has the gall to flaunt his 'protection', in Caleb's face. A reminder of the leash about your neck, that now this man holds.

That you are a tool for him, is his misconception.

It is pulled back, as he reminds himself he has a mask for this moment. That his every day as a colonel, has taught him how to lie, and keep things hidden. That the very act of wearing it was how he survived. How he got back to you. That without it, without every lie he has ever told, he would not be able to keep you safe now.

"No, I wouldn't want them to fail one of their orders for EVER. That would be disastrous. They have a clean record, you won't be the reason that changes." He leans against the wall, and indicates to Zayne with a finger outstretched, "I just wanted to remind you not to do anything stupid."

"I would have believed my old friend would know me to be anything but stupid, after all, I helped you with your studies too."

It irritates him, the reminder, the knowledge of times he hadn't been enough, and had needed someone else to cover where he lacked. It wasn't true anymore, he didn't need Zayne's helping hand. He doesn't need anyone's hand, except for yours.

"What strikes me as stupid, is the situation we have found ourselves in. Or perhaps, foolish, is a better term. After all, what could possibly have convinced you that this is the right place for them to be?"

Like he understands, like the choice was ever that easy.

"This, or a grave, Zayne, which would you choose?"

"Better to die with your mind intact, than live as a monster."

He laughs, it is a scoff and it is bitter, and he turns away from the man. Thinks about moments in that testing facility. At every electric shock through his limbs to make him work like the tool they needed him to be. To make his arm function, to make him a reliable weapon.

A monster. He thinks about how he despises the thing they put to him, that perhaps it's true and the cybernetics make him a monster. That his right arm is dirty and filthy and every choice he has made, made him a beast. If he is a beast, however, he will be a beast for you. In service to you. That even if you do not know it, the fact your right arm carries the beast of burden too, makes him feel like you two still are the only two that matter in this filthy place.

That at the very least, even though he wishes it had never happened, he shares the connection that only you can understand. With your claw soaked and stained in blood he knows you cannot wash clean.

Just like he cannot.

"A monster, mhm? Is that what they are now, to you?"

Zayne does not respond, just looks at him, cool, calm eyes watching him. Caleb tries not to remember moments in childhood, when he'd gotten hurt, and Zayne had simply watched him  until he finally cracked and confessed so. So the younger boy could help him with his cuts.

They aren't kids anymore.

"I'm keeping them safe, what could you possibly understand of that?"

"Safe? In EVER's den? With them watching every move, keeping track of everything that happens? Holding onto them like they're some kind of attack dog?"

It's the first time Caleb has seen real emotion leak out of him. That in all the time, watching and keeping an eye on him, that Zayne bites. He watches the ice spread up his arm, as his emotions fluctuate.

So he really still can't control it, is a thought that flickers through his mind. A reminder of seeing through the camera, as you resonate with him. Keeping him from hurting himself, or others. Easing the out of control ice down.

You're not here, though, and Caleb watches as the hand tightens. Then eases open, and the ice fades back away, as the cold man warms back up.

It's another reminder, that Zayne cannot help you. When he cannot even really help himself.

An assurance, to Caleb, that he is the best place to keep you safe.

"At least they have me protecting them."

"Who is protecting them from you?"

He's a controlled man, he tries to be. Violence is to be used carefully. His EVOL is a tool, a powerful one, that he has harnessed and learned out of need and through pain. That every experiment his was subjected to, as a child, and as an adult, has made him stronger. That when he needs it, he can use it with a wave of his hand.

That he can bring forth a black hole like it's nothing.

For a split second, his hand twitches, and he feels his anger pull. Zayne's shoulders slump, and he chokes on nothing, before Caleb pulls it back. Reels himself in, steadies it. He cannot kill the man. He cannot hurt him, not when you will suffer it.

He will not hurt you. Ever. You are the one thing in this world he values, that he cares for. You are everything. His beacon and his home base. No matter what, you are where he belongs.

You do not need protecting from him, because he loves you. More than you'll ever understand, more than you'll ever know. More than he'll ever tell you. "I would never hurt them. Ever." It feels wet, like he's close to tears, choked out on the feeling.

The idea of his hands ever being responsible for your pain.

He will never be a weapon to hurt you. No matter what anyone else intends.

"You are, keeping them here, helping EVER, is hurting them. You have to be smarter than this Caleb, surely?"

"Don't act like you could understand this. All you have to do is help them, and they'll leave you alone. Let you do your work, and you won't have to look over your shoulder anymore-" It's not true, it's never true. Caleb knows that, he knows Zayne will never be safe from them anymore. No one will ever be safe from EVER. There is not a safe place in this world anymore. "Pipsqueak can't. Pipsqueak will never be safe from them. They always find us, they always will."

There is nowhere he can run with you, nowhere he can hide you. There is no place EVER cannot touch. He hates every time he realises, every time he remembers the simple fact. That even if he took you to another world, they would follow.

"Caleb-" Zayne tries, trying to catch his gaze, and he simply turns away. Staring directly at the wall. Like if he could look out through it, he could see something better.

Zayne can't understand. Not really.

He hasn't lived through the tests, the iron grip over your lives.

The snapshot of time without EVER's cruelty was too short, before they found you both again.

This entire world is filthy. It's ruined everything. Every happy moment, and every bit of joy. It has done nothing but hurt you, taken from you. There is nothing to be gained from a world that does nothing but hurt. When the day comes and he figures out how to destroy it, he'll do so gladly.

He'll build somewhere better, where you can be happy, and safe. Where the two of you will finally be free, away from pain. Where he won't have to lie to you again. Where he can finally touch you at will and tell you every secret in his heart.

It is a dream within a dream, he wants nothing more than to make it a reality.

"All you need to do Zayne, is stay in line. Don't cause issues, don't make their job harder. Let this pass, and accept your new reality."

The words do not stop him from sighing, or speaking out again, voice steady but desperate. As though he truly needs Caleb to understand.

"If you really knew them, you would know this isn't what they would want. You urged them to be a hunter, you wanted them to help people to protect the world. Surely you know they don't want to abandon everything they care about? The people they love?" He exhales, "Do they look happy to you? Is this what you want to protect so badly? Do they want all this blood on their hands?"

This time, his anger truly gets the best of him. It's an ice cold chill that rivals Zayne's EVOL. He clearly does not expect it, because it takes too long for him to react as Caleb tightens his cybernetic hand around the man's throat and squeezes. He can't feel it, but he can watch. The pain flickering through Zayne's eyes. The shock. As his hand raises sluggishly to tighten a grip around his wrist. As the ice spears through Caleb's synthetic skin and tries to pry through the cybernetics.

He watches with a degree of glee, as he sees Zayne see the cybernetics. As he comes face to face with the way EVER has rebuilt him. There is pain in him at the damage the ice causes. He knows he'll have to go through repairs again, agony waiting on the horizon. It is with irritation that when the sensation of his arm comes back to him, it is through the pain, and is the feeling of Zayne's skin under his iron grip.

His sensations should be saved for you, as rare as they are.

Still, at least he knows it will leave a reminding bruise.

"Don't you dare act like you know them better than me, Zayne. Everything I have ever done, has been for them. Everything I am, every choice I've made. For them."

The creak of the door filters through his anger, reminds him that he cannot kill the man, not if he doesn't have to. Not if it leaves you punished for no reason. Not if you give him that look again, cold and wary. Like he is not the only person you can trust.

Like he's not your only real ally in this world.

You're in pain, but he can help you, and when he has, you'll never feel pain like this ever again.

You'll understand one day, that there's nothing redeemable about this world. That he can build a better one just for you. As good a heart as you have, as much as you care. He knows you'll understand.

You have to.

He backs away, releases Zayne like he scorches to touch. Pushing him back and away, and feels himself laugh under the strain of his aching heart, "If it comes down to a choice, Zayne, of your life or theirs. It will be an easy choice to make. If I have to kill you, no matter their mission, no matter what will happen, if the alternative is EVER's chip in their head, then I will do it."

Zayne rubs at the skin around his neck, and as Caleb turns, walking back to the door, back to you. Where he belongs. He hears a raw and scratchy voice behind him, rough with pain, "When you wake up from this dream Caleb, you're going to be horrified of what you've wrought."

He finds himself laughing again but it doesn't feel funny, and looks back to smile, "Well Doctor, at least I'm not living in a nightmare."

—---

You're inside a cage. The bars are rusted and it's too small to stand in. Hands and knees, with a dirty dog bowl as the only other thing in there.

You crawl to the gate, grab at it with the claw. Pull and tug and rattle it, but no matter how much you try it does not open. No matter how rusted the bars are they do not break. You don't stop, pulling and clawing at them, until the lights switch on.

A man in a black uniform, hat pulled low enters. You cannot see his face, can't make him out. No matter how you crane your neck to try to look up at him.

When your mouth opens, instead of words, you whine. Hurt and wounded like an injured dog.

He exhales, and reaches for the gate. Opens it, and then leaves.

It's a moment, when you wait. For him to come back and lock it again. To bring you a new bowl. To do anything. As you hesitate on the threshold.

When your sad, hurting heart tells you one thing.

He is never coming back.

Unneeded, unwanted, and worthless.

You have been abandoned.

You crawl out of the cage, drag yourself over the ground, your legs too shaky and unused to the space to stand to do more than stumble and fall as you try to raise yourself up. Scrapping and tearing each time you make impact with the floor.

As you reach the door he left through, the lights flick back off, and you fall through the floor.

It is almost a quiet bliss as you fall now. The ground will approach, and you will hit it. The assurance, and the knowledge of that fact, comforts you.

Because you ache, and you hurt, and no one is coming back for you.

The claw is so cold on your skin, as you wrap your arms around yourself. Seeking out any degree of comfort, any reminder of what it felt like.

Surely, at one point, you knew that. Knew kindness and warmth.

You can hear the whine in your throat, the feeling like you want to sob but can't. Falling backwards into the abyss.

When your body slows, stopping, floating. You wait for the sudden impact, for the assurance of the end.

You wait, and you wait, and it does not come.

Flickering blue lights and static.

There is no sudden relief, there is no release.

You're going to wake back up in the cage again. Left to stare at the dirty bowl as company. Waiting for something that never arrives.

[heartofbusan]

Your post is thought provoking. Seems everyone is thinking about the after MS right now.

I want them to be happy first and foremost, and for them to do what they feel is best, only they can decide that.

I think if anyone is going to pave the way as far as idol life and dating goes, it’s BTS, though Blackpink have been fairly open of sorts so far. Someone’s got to change the playing field, BTS are in a strong position to do so, with such a huge international fan base especially. Honestly their home land be damned, the ridiculous double standards, homophobia and idol expectancy needs to change, something has to give. They are living in the dark ages in regards to that, so advanced in many other ways. Out with the old and in with the new. What’s that age old saying? Be the change you want to see in the world! It’s never going to change if people don’t stand up and try to make that happen, history has shown that time over. Movements and individuals alike.

I’m not just talking about Jikook here, but in general with all members.

They kept saying prior to enlistment there were things they couldn’t tell us before, that they will, that Jimin said he wants to do what he wants with no restriction, in his last live to Army. Who knows what any of it means, or if they will let us know.

The Yoongi thing is another example of how ridiculous their culture is (sorry not sorry, bc it is), and I hope that he comes back with his held high and finger raised!

For Jikook, all I would want for them is to have them be free to show how close they are. The horse has bolted in many ways since the enlistment and show on top, the show being a choice they made, and aired. They shouldn’t go back to ‘hiding’ so to speak in terms of their closeness, they should honest to god flaunt it.

time will tell I guess

I honestly think the international fanbase is a huge hurdle. Cultural differences mean that not only do they need to think about conforming to their own culture but others as well. I'm not naming names, but there are a couple of extremely active fans out there who belong to cultures that tend to dismiss LGBTQI issues outright and they are also the biggest y/n types you could ever find. These types of fans can also be found in SK, but the fact that BTS for being so widely known would have to juggle multiple cultures is another reason to NEVER make any public announcements. Once you enter 'dating' into the lexicon, it can never be unsaid.

I think what BTS want in regards to their careers just doesn't align with their private lives. And merging the two is best done in private, where the one doesn't become a topic of conversation inside the other. That's just my opinion, and I'll wait and see how far BTS themselves decide to take it.

I love a good metaphor, and 'the horse has bolted' is wonderful. Is it Scandinavian? Am I mistaken? Just sounds like something rugged and wild..a wild horse that became antsy and needed to run.. just like Jikook. Mane fluttering in the wind, never back to being restrained.

Oh, Anon, you reminded me that I STILL haven't dared to watch Jimin’s last live 😭😭😭 his palpable and conflicted emotions like fear, nerves, uncertainty, and vanity all came to the fore, and I absolutely commend him for owning it all. What a brave boy, I needed the 18 months to be so brave, too.. I might soon because, yes, a lot of us are counting down the days.

Thank you 💜💛

[ribbonsfallaway]

I keep making post after post venting about how this show, especially this last part of the show was handled, and I want to make one from maybe a more rationally explained side.

Look I get the argument, "the show started with Johnny and Miguel, so it should end with them." As much as it makes me roll my eyes into the back of my head I do understand. However that doesn't mean Robby isn't important. Despite what some fans and the writers want us to believe.

I'd get if they had Miguel win at the end cause he's this gen's "Karate Kid", that's fine. My issue lies in the fact that Robby isn't allowed one win. Not just in a tournament sense, but in a personal sense. The show starts off with Johnny being a deadbeat loser father and Robby being the victim of him being a drunken deadbeat loser father. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but it's the truth. And the thing is to me Johnny didn't really try with Robby to be a better father. Sure you can spin he "tried", and Robby was "stubborn" but every time he did try and Robby fought him on it, Johnny fought back, and didn't actually allow his son to be angry. At least not to him. Sure he'd cry to Carmen, Miguel, etc., about how much of a screw up he was. Still somehow painting himself as a victim in all of this. But he never stated how much he messed up really with the one person who deserved it the most, and needed it the most. Robby. His son. Because I feel as much as Robby gave Johnny shit, the moments he had the door open for him… He just fucked up. Like I do feel like there was a doorway after the s1 tournament in early-s2. Robby very much expressed how you know he is trying, but it's going to take time. Instead of respecting this and instead of Johnny saying he'd try and gets it, he fights back that "he gets he screwed up" but he doesn't have to hang with Daniel. Daniel by the way being the one at this time to actually try and be there for Robby, and be a father figure to him. So Robby snaps back. That for some reason is the only thing people can focus on, and "poor Johnny!" for how "Robby speaks to him." Which… Whatever.

In season 3, there are a couple doors open for Johnny. That once more he messes up. When he's supposed to visit Robby at juvie after the school fight, and once more chooses Miguel over him. Just as he had been the first 2 seasons. Even after that when Johnny does go visit him Robby once more actually has some leeway with him here, he's upset at first but when he sees a somewhat efford on Johnny's end he relents and is accepting. It isn't until Robby finds out Johnny once more ditched him for Miguel that things blow up. And Johnny doesn't try to apologize on this end, he just pretty much places all blame on Robby for that, and yeah Robby fucked up badly during the school fight but really isn't rewarded the nuance of it I feel? And all the elements that went into that day, and fight. Except from Kreese really, and that's a whole other thing. That will just make this post longer.

And Johnny sure as shit didn't try in season 4 after Robby joined Cobra Kai. The scene at his apartment does not count at all because it was Robby who went there, and Johnny just tried to lecture him instead of inviting him in to talk things out. But whatever, and somehow at the end of the season somehow Johnny is miraculously forgiven despite doing not a thing to earn it. And see this is what bugged me here that it was Robby the child who had to let go of the anger, and not Johnny the 50-something year old adult man who had to earn it. And after that their relationship is all healed and after this Robby is never allowed to complain again because when he was justifiably angry the show punished him for it, and made it his problem. Not Johnny's.

So we have this aspect of it all of Robby not being chosen first ever by Johnny or anyone in his life frankly, because yeah Shannon went to rehab for him, and got better but we're not allowed to really see that. Hell maybe that would have made things a bit better. That we saw Robby had Shannon on his side, and would start choosing him.

We didn't get his relationship with Daniel really repaired. Yes they're on good terms but God I would have really loved to see them make up. The show loves to harp on how important Johnny and Miguel are, but frankly IMHO I feel Johnny and Daniel are just as important, and while I never truly was able to be on board with Johnny and Miguel I loved Daniel and Robby because Daniel for a time gave Robby what he needed until that blew to hell and the writers just brushed over them as if they weren't important.

We have this personal part of Robby's life to where he's never chosen once by anyone, and some I get, but others I can not accept. But it's Miguel who Johnny always picks over him. And in part 2 of this season a scene that also should have happened with Johnny and Robby only was reserved for Johnny and Miguel. Hell what I find worse is we never once see Johnny apologize to Robby and explain it was never him that was the problem, it was Johnny and he regrets how much he hurt him. What we do get is somehow Robby in this part of the season happy karate came into his life cause it gave him Johnny. Despite you know Johnny not doing a thing to earn it. Sorry I will die on this hill.

And I think this is what makes Robby fans upset about him losing at the end. Because maybe if in the past he was allowed one win, or if the writers spent half as much time on Johnny and Robby as they did Johnny and Miguel and validated Robby's feelings it would be OK. If the show showed us how important Robby was to the people in his iife and valued for that it would be OK. But we don't even get that. Not really.

And sure Robby gets a "good ending" but it felt shoehorned in to appease fans so Cobra Kai could come out on top.

And listen I get the show is called "Cobra Kai" but I could get into another rant about why just because the show is called Cobra Kai doesn't mean they always need to be the winners.

So really it's not in just a physical sense Robby never gets to win, it's in a personal sense, and on all that he's never allowed to be upset about it without the narrative framing him as in the wrong, or punishing him for it. Robby is truly never validated in any sense in this series, and as a fan it's frustrating to watch.

[cantfightmoonlight]

"Actually you told the both of us during White Elephant two years ago. I was sitting right next to her," She explained. "And I could have, but I trusted you and, as I know now, I shouldn't have," She stated, pressing her lips together as she gave her a small shrug. "It's called a hyperbole. You know, a mild exaggeration for dramatic effect? And I'm well aware when you became advisor. I'm not attacking you. I'm simply pointing out the obvious," She explained calmly. "We both know you don't really care about me, so why bother with the pretend?" Bri reasoned. She already had to question pretty much every relationship in her life. Why add another to the rather long list?

"See. That doesn't exactly sound like you care. Though as for whether or not I would have taken a rational suggestion in that moment, did you even give me a chance to? I lunged at Frankie because she caught me off guard, my emotions got the best of me and I was starving. But, I stopped the moment I-" she paused. Her eyes momentarily drifted to the floor as she muttered under her breath, "Shoved Poppy. Just before you stepped in and, I'm not saying I don't appreciate the advice or the fact that you did, but I also know that, while people came to comfort me, not one actually told him to stop when he was strewing a list of insults my way. Instead, you essentially told me to 'suck it up' and I get it. That's pretty much the only advice anyone ever seems to give around here. 'Suck it up and get over yourself'. But, that doesn't exactly make me want to hang out with other vampires let alone ask them for any other tips. No offense." She had tried to. She had asked Ken to show her how to reverse compulsion and he pretty much rolled his eyes at her and made it abundantly clear she should know how already, though he had been more helpful than most. Ronnie and Safiye were just as lost as she was and Ralph, she was fairly certain was off in some other world.

"And that, right there, is why I've been figuring it out my own. I might have wanted you to teach me control before that ominous as fuck warning? Seriously?" She asked, she shook her head the smallest bit back and forth. "You clearly don't want to help me and I don't even think you could even if I did volunteer for your hellish bootcamp which seems unnecessarily menacing. I was never meant to be this and don't think I haven't notice how my body is still actively rejecting it. I was supposed to die a human and, if it wasn't for the Sheriff's spell, I would have."

"You're awfully defense, you know that?" She pointed out softly, though her voice took on a far sharper tone as she called Ben a 'droll boy toy'. "Though, I'm sorry, a droll boy toy? Go fuck yourself and just because it's art, doesn't mean it's not tacky. While as for catacombs, they're... sad. All of those skeletons piled on top of each other until they practically form of wall of mismatched limbs you can't tell apart from one another? Unless they were some notable official, they become lost amongst the many. Faceless skulls that will go on being unremembered," She wrapped her arms across her chest as she thought of how similar it would have been for her if she hadn't been brought back. No one would have even known where she was buried. "I don't see you as a villain. Maybe, a bit of a bitch, but to be fair, you do like to insult my boyfriend a great deal, so... next you're going to tell me you're like Shrek. An onion with many layers," She mumbled under her breath, not bothering to point out Aaliyah saying that her questions was an 'exercise in self-flagellation' she had outgrown, she was further supporting Bri's entitled bitch theory.

Instead, she stood there quietly. Her gaze hyper-fixated on the crowd with her arms crossed over her chest. It was only when she was told that people cared about her, that she cut Aaliyah off. "No. They don't," Her dark brown eyes met Aaliyah's as she told her, point blank, "You've heard the eulogies. Majority of this town either doesn't give a fuck about me or hates me and they have since the first day I was resurrected. You want to talk about a complaint box? I've been called pretty much every name in the book, not to mentioned was told I smell of death which was an added dose of prejudice for no apparent reason. My friends have forgotten my birthday, stabbed me, mooched off of me, admitted to being afraid of me and fucked my boyfriend before we got together and I do mean plural friends for that one. The only family I have in town left unsure if they'd ever return, knowing they'd forget about me, and they said goodbye for what might have been forever if they hadn't come back over a note. The only person I have in my life who I know for certain loves me unconditionally and would never leave is Ben and he's missing his fucking leg now because of this godforsaken town. So, when I say why bother it is because there is literally no point. I know plenty about myself. I know I've spent the past three years trying to be liked by you god awful people and it doesn't change anything. It doesn't matter how I act. It doesn't matter what I do, all roads end the same. So, why bother? You can call it self-flagellation, if you want to, but I call it me no longer giving a fuck because there are a very few of you who are actually worth it."

"I wasn't in there throwing a fucking pity party. I was saying goodbye to the girl who died, which was originally supposed to be the whole point of this thing," She rolled her eyes as she kicked herself up off of the booth she had been leaning again. "I never had a funeral, though... wow. Are you going to be condescending this entire conversation? Because at this point, I might as well make it into a drinking game," A dry laugh broke from her lips. It was truly ironic how much Aaliyah seemed to think she had a read on the situation. "I've been letting myself 'feel it' for the past three years and I've been to nearly everybody else. Gia's unhinged, Ken barely puts up with me, Ralph and Ernie are still living in 1955, Meena's recovering from being malled by a wolf, Rio's often to busy to even get a coffee let alone fill me in and Saf and Ronnie are just as new at this as I am. So, save the whole 'I've got to want it and seek it out' pep talk. I've been seeking it out. What more do I have to do? Invest in a literal bat signal? Carry around a flashing neon sign that says 'help'?"

"No, I don't remember that," Aaliyah mused, nonplussed by Bri's reaction. "Mostly because I didn't tell you, I told one of your friends. You could have confirmed that with literally any other vampire in town. But, really? It takes time to 'burn to a crisp.' You didn't think that, I don't know, you should possibly head on inside when the skin irritation started sinking in?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "I also wasn't the clan's advisor at that time, just a member. But, please, keep the critiques coming. I do so love to hear about all the things I'm doing wrong for our esteemed organization." She laughed. "And I would have snapped your neck, too, if the moment required it because you were not thinking rationally, and you would not have taken a rational suggestion at that moment. I offered you help after, too, if you recall. But fine. You want me to teach you control? I'll teach you about control. You won't like it," she said, her tone lacking any sort of bite. It wasn't a threat. It was just a fact. So few with a lack of control had other issues within themselves that they needed to work through, and coming to terms with their own inner turmoil was hardly easy. "But, again, please. Keep it coming. I should open up a complaints box, start up a petition to have me replaced. Wanna be the first signature?"

She wondered if Brielle noticed that she'd left the confessional. Perhaps instigating Bri wasn't the kindest thing in the world, but Aaliyah was of the mindset that what we needed, really needed, was what was kind to us. Kindness was good, sure. But it wouldn't help someone who refused to accept it. "I thought you and that droll boy toy of yours were appreciative of the arts and history. Tacky gothic architecture. Please, it's art. And catacombs used to be reverent. Horror movies making them into something, well, horrific is... so basic. There's nothing scary about the dead or the places that house them. It doesn't have to be cheerful." She looked at Bri before shrugging. "I like metal. Some of the new stuff's pretty good. I like a lot of things, though. I know you see me as some one note villain, but the tragedy of it all is that I, against my will, contain multitudes." Layers and faces and people built on top of people to construct the person that she was, for better or for worse.

Aaliyah just sighed. "Bri, constantly asking yourself 'why bother' is an exercise in self-flagellation that I've outgrown. But let's just go through with it. Fine. Why bother?" Aaliyah raised her hands up and looked around. "Because people care about you. Because I was under the assumption that you care about people. Please, though, correct me if I'm wrong. I fucking love Council gossip." It wasn't the truth, but if it could push a button or two, then fine. "Why bother? Because you have a lot left to learn, and a lot left to live." She looked at Bri, her face a mask. "You know nothing about me. What I give a damn about, what I don't. I'm almost positive that you know nothing about yourself, either." Aaliyah brushed a speck of dirt from her jacket.

"You are allowed to do this, by the way," she said off-handedly. "This pity-party at your birthday party. Not because it's you're birthday, but because you're a person and you're allowed to feel shit, even if it feels like shit. But I will tell you that it won't stay like this. Not in a 'chin up, kiddo, it won't stay like this forever!' kind of way, but in the fact that nothing stays the same kind of way. Even us. You will, of course, outwardly remain as you are now, but all the stuff inside that makes you a person? That changes. Constantly." She stepped forward, taking Bri in, the sort of beat down attitude that she had. "So feel it. Or don't. But those issues that you have with your control? Some of that stems from other shit that you should work on figuring out. If you don't want to do it with me, that's fine. Meena's available. There are other, older vampires in the clan that have been through similar shit that are around, and only most of them are assholes. But you've got to want it, and you've got to seek it out."

[magnusmodig]

ovo whispers menacingly abt his grandstanding .

[fleshdyk3]

god i fucking hate my dad

[thevoiceofdesertbluffs]

guess who's thinking about soul master again. i miss him so much.

[ruvviks]

thinking about yancey and his people pleaser attitude