#but i do not wish angry messages from 14 year olds

[springtrappd]

pouring one out for all the vanilliams following the movie rn. never been my thing but if the discourse was absolutely noxious before that shit is about to get fucking nuclear

[daenysthedreamer101]

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 14 - Total Eclipse of the Heart

HOTD x Targaryen!OC, Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong

Warnings: Daena is not doing well, she gets jelaous, like really jealous/ Minor mentions of blood, death, fainting spell, overall chaos, and angst

A/N - it's a long one guys, so buckle up and get some snacks lol

Corresponding episode: HOTD 1x05

HOTD masterlist

"In the waning months of the year 115, a Royal wedding was held - Crown Princess Rhaenyra was married to Ser Laenor Velaryon, heir to Driftmark and the future Lord of the Tides. He was said to have arrived at King's Landing on the back of his dragon, Seasmoke, the same way his mother, Princess Rhaenys, arrived at her own wedding on her dragon, Meleys. 

The wedding was not without scandal. To everyone's surprise, the grieving Princess Daena showed up. She recently lost her lady mother, Rhea Royce, and was not expected to attend. Many said that her somber behavior was an ill omen that contributed to the violent event at the end of the wedding - the murder of Ser Joffrey Lonmouth."  

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

~

115 AC, Runestone 

The cold wind howled through the night. Lady Rowena stood at the foot of the table as four Silent Sisters took care of her late daughter's body. Never in her wildest dreams, did she think she would bear witness to this - her only child, cold and dead in front of her.

"My lady, you may wish to leave the Silent Sisters to their work. It is ill luck to look upon the face of death." Maester Cirion said to her. 

"The Stranger has taken many people away from me: My parents, my lord husband, my brother, and now my daughter. I assure you Maester, he cares little whether I watch or not." Rowena replied quietly. 

"If not for yourself, then you should leave for your granddaughter. I'm worried her mind will spiral. The Princess had always been quite attached to her mother. I'm afraid Lady Rhea's passing has unstabilized her state of being." Measter Cirion suggested. 

"A raven must be sent to the Eyrie. Lady Jeyne must know of my daughter's passing. And to King's Landing, of course. I can trust you will deal with those messages?"

Maester Cirion bowed slightly. "Of course, my lady. At once."

~

"Ser Harwin."

He turned at the sound of his name. It was Lady Rowena. Her hair, usually neatly held by a hair net, was now loose. Her eyes were bloodshot and there was a crease in her brows. There was a large wooden box in her hands. 

"My lady?" 

"Ser Harwin, forgive me for seeking you out in the middle of the night but I'm afraid you're the only person I could think of for what I need," Rowena said as she handed him the box. 

It wasn't too heavy but something was definitely inside it. "Give this to Daena. Let her talk about it. Distract her mind. And if you can, encourage her to get some sleep before the...before the funeral." 

"What is it?" Harwin asked. 

"Her old dragon egg. The one that never hatched. Daemon never bothered to return it to the Dragonpit and it has stayed here ever since Daena was born." 

Harwin remembered Daena talking about this egg and how angry she was it never hatched. 

"I hear she refuses to sleep." Rowena comments. 

"My sisters tried everything but she is...restless," Harwin answered somberly.

Rowena cast her gaze down and shook her head. 

"She needs you, Harwin. Now more than ever. Be there for her, please." Lady Rowena pleaded. 

"Of course, my lady."

~

Gently opening the door, he found her sitting on the room floor, next to the fireplace. Her back turned to him, he couldn't see her face, only the back of her head. Her silver curls were now loose, reaching down to her waist.

She was crouched, her knees close to her chest as she stared into the fire. She didn't seem to notice him, or at least, she failed to react. He slowly approached her, setting the box next to her. 

"Princess..." He called for her as he crouched next to her. 

No reaction. 

Sighing, he took hold of her hand and squeezed it. "Daena." 

This seemed to break her stupor. She slowly turned her head toward him. Her lilac eyes were red and puffy, her face tear-stricken, her silver curls messy. It broke Harwin's heart into a million pieces seeing her like this. Gently, careful of her bruises, he took hold of her face. He wiped away the tears. 

"My love...please. Talk to me." He cooed. This was the first time he addressed her in such a manner, yet she didn't seem to notice it. 

"There's nothing to talk about! My mother-" She yelled but as soon as the words left her mouth, her mother's death became so much more obvious and real. 

For the 100th time that night, she broke into tears. This time, Harwin was there to hold her. She sobbed and sobbed, drenching his shirt with her tears. After what felt like hours, she stopped. With her head on his chest, she could feel the beat of his heart; it calmed her down. 

Her eyes fell upon the box Harwin brought with him. Removing herself from his arms, she pulled the box closer. With her fingers, she traced the intricate carvings in the wood.

"I know this box." She whispered, sniffling. 

She opened it and her eyes fell upon the dragon egg inside it. The last time she saw it, she was a little girl, dragonless and fearful. She picked it up - it was dark in color, almost black with a violet tint to it and the scales glimmered purple in the fire. 

It was as magnificent as the day it was first laid in her crib. It was as heavy as she remembered. Laying it in her lap, she sighed. It had her mind racing - so many things would've been different had this egg hatched. 

She would've bonded to this dragon from birth, yes, but then she would've never claimed Vermithor. She didn't like that thought. Vermithor was her everything, she couldn't imagine her life without him. Speaking of her dragon...

"Vermithor. I want to see him." She said as she caressed the egg in her lap. 

"...It's the middle of the night, my love."

"So?"

Harwin sighed. "You need to get some rest before the-"

"I don't want to. I want Vermithor!" She repeated. She hasn't seen her dragon in over a fortnight. Both dragon and rider were getting restless without each other. 

"On the morrow, then." Harwin offered. 

Daena thought about it. She was tired from all the crying. She caressed the egg some more before putting it back onto the velvet cushion inside of the box. 

"I could do with some sleep." She commented quietly. 

Harwin sighed again, this time from relief. 

~

The rising sun was covered by the clouds; grey and heavy they were. Just like Daena's heart. Outside the walls of the castle, the funeral burial of Lady Rhea Royce was being held. All of the castle staff was there; stable boys, cooks, cleaning maids, guards, everyone. 

The older members of the staff wept, for they knew their lady well and they too were shocked by her sudden passing. But no one felt more pained by Rhea's death than the two women standing at the very front - Lady Rowena, her mother, and Princess Daena, her child. 

Grandmother and granddaughter held each other tightly, as if letting go of one another meant losing each other forever. Both were clad in black, from head to toe. Lady Rowena wore a long, black hood that covered her hair but not her face. Even in her darkest hour, she stood tall, a somber expression on her face.

Daena was a completely different story. Not expecting to attend a funeral, she had no appropriate black gown, so she borrowed one from Amanda. It was made of cotton with puffy sleeves and a high collar. 

On her head, she wore a veil made of black Myrish lace that covered her tear-stricken face. Her hair was pulled in a bun and she wore no earrings, bracelets, or necklaces. Only the simple garnet ring her mother gifted her years ago. 

Even the heavily pregnant Amanda was there; she refused to lie and bed while her aunt was getting buried. She stood next to her husband, Ser Jasper, and clutched her belly. She too was in a black gown with a black veil on her head. 

Harwin and his sisters were slightly off to the side, seeing as they weren't residents of Runestone, only guests. Both of the twins had their hair up. Hanna had a black velvet headband on her head while Joy wore a short black veil. Harwin too was in black. 

As the funeral went on, Daena felt her patience disappearing by the second; on one hand, she wanted to give respect to her mother one last time. On the other hand, she hated bearing witness to this. She wanted to run away from the darkness and the pain.

Finally, it was over. It was customary that after the funeral, the bereaved would go inside, raising cups and eating in honor of the deceased. But Daena had other things in mind. Detaching herself from her grandmother, she started walking toward the hill.

~

Ignoring all calls, she continued without turning back. From the other side of the hill, Vermithor appeared, hissing and clicking. She walked up the hill, determined to get away from any man or woman. Once she reached the top, Daena fell to her knees. Vermithor lowered his head, wanting to be closer to his rider. 

Feeling his need for contact, she lifted her veil, showing her face to her dragon. Vermithor's great amber eyes looked over Daena and he could see and feel her pain. He's been feeling her pain ever since she was assaulted weeks ago at her name-day party. With trembling hands, she touched his snout and leaned her head onto his. 

A deep rumble left his mouth as he nudged her body with his snout; it was his way of comforting her. Usually, she would play into it and pretend to fall. But not today. Today she stayed seated, her eyes glued to the wet grass. She could feel his hot breath as he opened his mouth and growled. 

A great wave of emotion washed over her - anguish, pain, a sense of injustice, a desire to just disappear, and anger. Anger at her father not being there for her. Anger at herself for not being able to stop her mother's passing. Anger at the gods for taking her mother away from her. 

Perhaps being next to her dragon amplified her feelings or perhaps she was just fed up with everything. Either way, the fire in her blood ran hot and rage flowed through her veins. Hot tears ran down her face as she beat her fists against the cold earth. Gripping the grass tightly, she screamed. Feeling her immense sorrow, Vermithor roared, his voice echoing through the valley. 

Pulling the grass harshly from the ground, she keeled over, sobs wrecking her body. Feeling the distress of his rider, Vermithor swished his tail against the ground, making the earth below him shake. 

~

Upon hearing the news of his wife's passing, Daemon knew he had to return to the Vale. Not because he cared for Rhea, but because of Daena. He knew how attached she was to her mother. 

Looking down from atop Caraxes he could see the castle of Runestone getting bigger and bigger. But something else caught his eye - on a nearby hill, Vermithor stood, furious and wailing from what Daemon could see and hear. Caraxes let out small clicks and whistles of acknowledgment as he descended and landed at the base of the hill.

As he dismounted Caraxes he could see someone approaching him. At first, it just looked like a big ball of black running down the hill, but he quickly realized who it was. 

"Kepa! Kepa!" (Father!) 

The frantic voice of his daughter rang loudly in his ears. Before he could register what was happening, Daena was in his arms. He stumbled a bit from the force of her hug. She was a sobbing, coughing mess, clinging desperately to him.

 "It hurts! It-it hurts. Daddy, please! Make it s-stop!" Daena babbled. 

"What hurts?" He asked as he guided both of them down to sit on the grass. 

"M-my heart! It hurts so b-bad. Daddy please!" 

Daemon didn't know what to say. He was never the best when it came to comforting people, but for her, he would try. He pulled her into his lap and played with her hair, just like when she was a toddler. 

"Mother is - she's...she's g-gone." Daena sobbed.  "Please don't leave me. Please. I need you. Stay." 

"I'm not going anywhere," Daemon promised. And this time, he meant it. 

Two months later

The royal wedding of Princess Rhaenyra to Ser Laenor Velaryon was to be held at the Red Keep in King's Landing. Lords and ladies from throughout the realm were descending upon the capital to attend this once-in-a-lifetime event that would unite the two most powerful houses in the Seven Kingdoms. 

Seeing as Daena was a member of the royal family, she knew she had to go. Perhaps, she could've used the excuse of being in mourning as an explanation as to why she would not attend. But once her father told her he would go, she knew she also had to go.

And now here she was, back in King's Landing, after almost a year in the Vale. Her grandmother decided to stay at Runestone, seeing as Amanda gave birth just one day after Lady Rhea's funeral. Harwin, Joy, and Hanna would join Daena in King's Landing. 

She, alongside her father, decided to arrive at the wedding on dragon back. The two stayed behind at Runestone and only started their journey south one day before the wedding. Her gown and accessories for the wedding were with the twins who had traveled down from the Vale over two weeks ago. 

Arriving at King's Landing in the early morning hours, long before sunrise, Daena made her way to the Red Keep. Immediately upon arrival, Daena was greeted by the twins who ushered her to her old room where she was to rest before the start of the wedding feast.

~

The great Throne Room of the Red Keep was transformed into a banquet hall fit for a royal wedding. The banners of House Targaryen and House Velaryon hung on opposite sides of the Iron Throne. A long table was set before the throne where the royal family sat.

With trepidation, Daena made her way to the Throne Room. This would be her first public appearance since the death of her mother. She was still in mourning and wanted nothing more than to seclude herself and ignore the rest of the world, but what choice did she have?

"Princess Daena Targaryen!" The voice of Ser Harrold Westerling rang across the Hall as he announced her presence. 

The Princess strode into the Great Hall, tall and gaunt. The black silk of her dress only accentuated her pale complexion and the emptiness in her eyes. Her dark gown flowed behind her, making her look like an unworldly wraith.

Murmurs and whispers could be heard all across the room but Daena paid them no mind. With her head high, she made her way up the stairs to the royal table. She curtseyed to her uncle and Rhaenyra.

"Your Grace. Cousin." She greeted politely. A look of pity formed on the King's face.

"My dear, I must say, I was most distressed to hear of  Lady Rhea's tragic passing. I know how close you were with her. I'm very sorry for your loss." 

Daena gave an awkward smile. "Thank you, Uncle."  

"Iksan sīr vaoreznuni, hāedar. Iksis konīr mirros kostan gaomagon?" (I am so sorry, little sister. Is there anything I can do?) Rhaenyra asked. 

"....Are you happy, cousin?" Daena asked. 

Rhaenyra seemed confused by the question. "I am." 

Daena nodded. "Good. At least one of us is." 

And with that, she sat at the edge of the table, somber and quiet. Lord Lyonel, who was sitting to her left, offered his condolences. As did every lord and lady who approached the royal table. She was getting sick of it and wasn't sure if she could handle it for another couple of hours. 

To her immense pleasure, Alicent was nowhere in sight as she was "still readying herself for the celebration" as His Grace explained to Jason Lannister. 

~

"Lord Corlys of House Velaryon; Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark. His lady wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, and their son and heir, Ser Laenor Velaryon - the future king consort!" 

Dressed in rich fabrics embroidered with gold, House Velaryon made their entrance. Everyone in the Hall stood up and clapped. Once they reached the foot of the table, Rhaenyra walked around it and greeted Laenor and he kissed her hand. Daena noticed Uncle Viserys glancing at Alicent's empty seat. 

Once the Velaryons were seated, an unexpected visitor arrived - Prince Daemon. Strutting confidently down the Hall in his red and black clothes with a smirk on his face, he silently approached the table and gave his brother a mischievous smile. 

King Viserys wordlessly gestured for another chair to be added to the table. Daena watched as her father sat down next to her. He made himself comfortable in the chair and once he did, he turned his head toward her. No smile was present on her face, yet her eyes gave away how glad she was of his arrival.

He grabbed her right hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. They continued holding hands, which warmed her broken heart just a little bit. 

Uncle Viserys then gave a speech about uniting House Targaryen and Velaryon and how much of an important ally they were to the crown. Yet, he stopped, looking at something down the hall. Everyone, including Daena, followed his line of vision. 

At the top of the stairs, on the other side of the Hall, stood Queen Alicent. Dressed in a dark green gown, she stood out amongst the crowd. She walked with a look of determination on her face and a certain fierceness was in her eyes, never before seen on the young queen. House Hightower immediately stood up, and everyone else followed suit. Except for Daemon and Daena, who remained firmly seated. 

Daemon completely ignored her, looking down at his nails, while Daena stared Alicent down with a look of pure disgust and vitriol on her face, not caring for what others might say in the slightest. Alicent walked past them, walking up to Rhaenyra. 

"Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you." Alicent said connivingly to Rhaenyra and proceeded to kiss His Grace on the cheek. 

Daena caught sight of Rhaenyra's face - a look of surprise and worry was on her cousin's face. She also shared a look with her father; his pale eyebrows were raised and he was hiding his face behind his cup, almost like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. He obviously found Alicent's stunt ridiculous.  

~

Laenor and Rhaenyra proceeded to perform an Old Valyrian dance that imitated dragon flight. It was a sight to see as the two spread their arms like dragons do their wings and circled each other. Daena noticed how intensely her father was watching Rhaenyra and she couldn't help but wonder if Rhaenyra had something to do with Daemon's banishment. 

Rhaenyra in her stunning, pure white gown looked like the Maiden herself. Her silver hair was pulled up in an intricate hairdo with a bunch of rubies sewn into her hair. Daena could not say if she liked it or not. In the end, everyone clapped, Daemon more enthusiastically than others. 

Other people proceeded to stand up and join the soon-to-be-wed couple on the dance floor. Among them, Daena easily spotted Joy in her bright violet gown as she practically hopped her way to the dance floor. She somehow managed to drag Hanna along, which brought a small smile to Daena's face. 

Alicent then stood up and walked down toward the Hightowers and conversed with her uncle Hobert. Daena's eyes then fell upon her secret lover. Harwin was sitting next to his brother, Larys, and the two were having a conversation. 

She couldn't help but admire his rugged beauty; his dark blue suit sat perfectly on his broad shoulders, and his dark curls were pulled back into a bun, freeing his handsome face. Almost like he sensed she was watching him, he locked eyes with her. She instantly looked away, her heart skipping a beat. 

Her happiness was short-lived because the next time her eyes found Harwin he was on the dance floor, dancing with Rhaenyra! She did say to him before the feast she wouldn't be dancing as she was in no mood to do such things, but she didn't expect him to go and dance with her cousin of all people. 

She watched as Rhaenyra giggled at something he said and how happy he seemed around her. Why wouldn't he? She was the Realm's Delight. She was the crown Princess. She was the future Queen. Of course, he was enamored with her. 

Bitter jealousy nested itself into Daena's heart. Jealousy and envy. Jealousy, for she had no desire to share her lover with Rhaenyra. Envy, because Rhaenyra seemed to be the most desired woman in the Seven Kingdoms and had so many things Daena wanted.

Over the course of the night, Daena also noticed Ser Criston staring intensely at Rhaenyra. It seemed every man in Westeros desired Rhaenyra. Daena knew all of these feelings were irrational and knew Rhaenyra would never hurt her in such a way but, jealousy was a mad viper and its venom spread through Daena's heart. 

She was so deep into her head that she failed to notice Lady Laena sharing glances with her father from across the table. The food that was in front of her went cold for she had no appetite to begin with, now, even less. She also failed to see Joy dancing and smiling with Ser Elmo Tully. 

~

Her body was turned to the right, that way she wouldn't have to look at Alicent. The one time she did glance at Alicent, she appeared to be just as miserable as Daena was. At least that brought her some satisfaction. 

Her father proceeded to get up from the table and go into the dancing crowd. First, he conversed with Laena. After that, he went up to Rhaenyra who was still dancing with Harwin. Father said something to Harwin who stepped away. 

Harwin caught sight of Daena's face - it was twisted in anger. Her lilac eyes fell upon him and even from across the Hall, he could feel a rageful fire exuding from them. He wondered why that was. 

"Your dear Princess seems less than happy with you," Larys commented as Harwin sat down. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Look at her. She is fuming. I wouldn't be surprised if she started spitting actual fire upon you." 

"And why would she do such a thing?" Harwin inquired. 

"Something tells me she wasn't overly pleased seeing you dance with Princess Rhaenyra," Larys clarified. 

"...It was all in good faith." Harwin tried explaining. 

"I don't think that's how she sees it," Larys commented before taking a sip of his wine.

~

From her seat at the table, Daena had a clear view of her father grabbing Rhaenyra by the neck and pulling her closer. She furrowed her brows; What in the Seven Hells are they doing? 

Then, a scream echoed through the Throne Room. 

Something was happening at the dance floor, but thanks to the crowd Daena couldn't see a thing. She quickly stood up from her chair and tried peering through the mass of people. 

"Where's Rhaenyra?" Daena asked, those being the first words she uttered after hours of silence. All her negative feelings disappeared once she realized her cousin was in danger. 

"What in the Seven Hells is going on?" Uncle Viserys said as he got up. Quickly, a group of guards appeared.

"RHAENYRA!" Daena yelled trying to locate her. Daena tried looking for Nyra's silver hair but, she was never the tallest, so she was quickly engulfed by the mass. Joy and Hanna were also on the dance floor, so Daena worried for them as well. 

Uncle Viserys walked around the table, trying to locate Rhaenyra as well. It was absolute mayhem. Daena joined her uncle at the front. She locked eyes with Harwin from across the hall. 

"Get Rhaenyra!" She yelled. Harwin proceeded to fight his way through the crowd. 

Next to her, Uncle Viserys bent forward, not feeling well. 

"Uncle! Are you alright?" She asked, worry lacing her voice as she noticed his nose bleeding. He didn't respond.

As she turned her gaze once again to the crowd, in the corner of her eye something caught her attention. A short girl in a light pink gown held onto a chair for dear life; Lady Patricia Beesbury, Daena quickly realized. 

The girl, blind from birth, had no idea what was going on and a look of terror was on her face. Springing to action, Daena jumped from the small platform she was standing on and ran toward Patricia, her black gown billowing behind her. 

She could hear Lord Lyonel yelling her name in the background but she didn't care. She needed to help Patricia. 

"Patricia! It's me, Daena! Come with me, quickly!" Daena said to the girl and tightly grabbed her arm. 

There was no way they could get back to the platform so instead, Daena set her eyes on one of the pillars. With an iron-tight grip, she held onto Patricia and the two tried to escape the crowd. She heard what she thought was Harwin's voice calling for her, but she wasn't sure. 

The two girls were pushed and pulled by the crowd but somehow managed to escape. Daena pulled Patricia and swung her around, pushing her against one of the large pillars. There, they stayed hidden. 

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Daena asked, breathless. 

The poor girl looked horrified and had tears running down her cheeks. Daena looked her over and besides her hair being a mess, she seemed fine.

"I-I-I...Thank you. I'm f-fine."  Patricia spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. Daena let out a sigh of relief. 

Then everything went silent and the cries of Ser Laenor echoed through the Hall. Daena peeked out over the pillar and saw Laenor crawling over to a man's dead body. Daena would later learn this was Ser Joffrey Lonmouth. 

~

"We stand here tonight in thanks and praise to join two souls as one." The dull voice of the Septon continued reciting the wedding prayer. 

"Father. Mother. Warrior..."

Daena stood behind Alicent and Uncle Viserys. Her tight bun was now loose and barely in shape, thanks to her little rescue only minutes ago. Lord Lyonel was to her right. She couldn't have imagined a worse outcome for a wedding; a man dead and the rest of the celebrations canceled. 

"Hear now their vows." 

Rhaenyra approached Laenor, kissed him on the cheek, and said her vows. 

"I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come." 

Laenor did the same, but truth be told, neither of them sounded honest or happy about it. 

"....I proclaim Laenor of House Velaryon and Rhaenyra of House Targaryen to be man and wife...Now and forever." 

Daena's head was pulsating, almost like someone took a hammer and was hitting her repeatedly with it. She gripped the skirt of her gown tightly, taking in small breaths through her nose. Her left wrist, the one sprained months ago, was hurting as well.

All this newfound chaos only worsened her already fragile mental state. Now her cousin's wedding was ruined, her father was gone, again, and she didn't even know where to start with Harwin. It was all too much.

It seemed she was not the only one feeling that way. Uncle Visers keeled over, his crown falling from his head. Rhaenyra, Alicent, Lord Corlys, and Lord Lyonel all rushed to help him. Closing her eyes, she sighed. Her ears were ringing and her vision was becoming fogged. An uncomfortable heat spread through her body. 

I can't take it anymore.

Without even thinking, she started walking away, leaving all that mess behind her. The click of her heels echoed as she practically ran toward the door. She barely missed the puddle of blood still left on the floor. 

Harwin stood in front of the Throne Room, waiting for Daena to come out. Suddenly, the great doors were opened and she came rushing out. Not noticing him, she started walking briskly down the halls of the Red Keep. 

"Daena!" He called for her. She seemingly ignored him and started sprinting toward the grand staircase. 

He started running after her. 

Right when she reached the stairs, she fell to her knees, her hand grabbing onto the railing. 

He caught her just before she toppled over. "Daena! What's happened? Tell me!" 

"The king has fallen...Call the measter..." She whispered, her voice weak and broken. 

"What? What do you mean?" 

He grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him. He called her name, asking if she could hear him. Her gaze was blank and distant, unfocused. The grip she had on his arm lessened. She leaned her head onto his chest and then she went limp.

"...Daena? My love, please! Get up!" Harwin pleaded, his usually stoic voice now ripe with emotion. 

He picked her up and carried her to her chambers with haste. He hated the feeling of her limp body in his arms. He wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. Once again he failed to protect her and the shame pierced his heart. 

[nickandcharlie135]

My idea for a (unnecessary) sequel to Blink. I wrote this at 3am as I couldn’t sleep. 😅

Blink 2: Electric Boogaloo (not final title 🤣)

Cold open: Sally Sparrow walking in town with 14/15 year old daughter is approached by an elderly woman who says “it’s not your fault” and “I don’t blame you” before giving a look to her daughter and walking off. Daughter brushes it off but Sally knows better than that. Sallys phone makes a noise - it’s a proximity alert that someone is approaching Wester Drumlins! She quickly runs leaving her daughter behind who tells her to “stop being paranoid”. Sally reaches Wester Drumlins but its too late - construction crew has already demolished the house and removed the 4 Weeping Angels from the basement! No longer looking at each other, they are free to move and as Sally gets one last look at them, a construction worker walks in front of her, obscuring her view and one of the Angels looks at her smiling before they all vanish! Sally is left there terrified of what’s to come…

Dr Who intro

… One Year Later

Sally and her daughter’s relationship has deteriorated as Sally has become even more paranoid that the Angels will return! Daughter now lives with Dad who is now also separated from Sally.

Alone, Sally has spent the last year preparing for the Angels return (similar to Halloween film).

Story continues as a psychological paranoia esk with people questioning Sallys sanity as she thinks she keeps seeing the Angels out of the corner of her eye - she is as they are stalking her.

One day, daughter is walking home from school and as she turns to take her usual shortcut through a graveyard, she is stalked by an Angel. She knows about them but never really believed her Mum until now when she blinks and it moves. Frightened she starts to run until she trips, turns around and the Angel is right next to her, screams and cuts to black.

Sally receives a call from ex saying daughter hasn’t returned home. Sally knows daughter’s route home from school so meets with ex at the graveyard to find her school bag on the floor. In the distance they both see a smiling Weeping Angel before it vanishes in the fog - the Angels have their daughter!

Unable to go to the police as they wouldn’t believe them, Sally believes they would take daughter to the ruins of Wester Drumlins where this all started years ago. At midnight she receives a call from daughter but instead of her it’s the voicemail lady speaking (the Angels are communicating using her voice) letting her know when to meet and to come alone.

Before leaving, Sally watches the old footage of the Doctor wishing he was here to help. Unknowingly she wishes so hard that a message travels to the Doctor’s psychic paper!

As Sally approaches the ruins of Wester Drumlins, the Doctor is there waiting - she doesn’t recognise him at first but after psychically connecting with her she sees all his faces since their last encounter.

Happy ending - They manage to defeat the Angels and rescue her daughter and the Doctor leaves.

But who was the elderly woman at the beginning?

Sad ending - They manage to defeat the Angels and rescue her daughter but just as they’re about to leave, one Angel manages to touch the daughter and sent her back in time. Shocking both Sally and The Doctor who gets a flashback to Amy/Rorys exit!

Sally takes a sledgehammer and destroys the remaining weak Angel leaving the Doctor to collect the remains.

Sally begs the Doctor to fix this, that he can fix this can’t he? Angrily saying he should fix this before leaving. The Doctor looks up to the camera looking angry and tears in his eyes and says “I will” before cutting to black.

The episode ends with Sally sitting alone in the graveyard when the same elderly woman sits next to her. She confesses that she is her daughter now all grown up. Sally breaks down knowing that she has missed so much of her daughter’s life and the episode ends with the daughter telling Sally what she has spent her life doing.

The following episode is the Doctor looking for the origins of the Weeping Angels as he plans to stop them from ever coming to be - if it’s at all possible.

Connection to Timelords and the Division. The early days of the Universe. The Doctor at his most angry and determined. No fear of what the Angels can do.

Episode ends with him managing to stop the Angels from existing and him returning to Earth to find Sally walking in town with her daughter all happy.

However time has changed and there will be consequences for the Doctor and the universe.

Also possible that Amy/Rory are now alive in the present?

Thoughts? 🤔

[fleur-de-violette]

Gorgon’s eyes

AO3

Summary:

Dick will give time to his family. He’s just came back as Nightwing after being undercover in Spyral; he understands that they won’t forgive him immediately.

Except, when an encounter with neurotoxin leaves him completely paralyzed, he has no choice but to rely on them.

Prompt: Assassination.

Note:

This is my first story for this bingo and I’m here with a classic: hurting Dick Grayson. Warning for poison, vomiting and paralysis. I hope you’ll enjoy the story!  

-

March 20, 5:14 AM

Dick winces at the sound of the window closing behind him. A quick look at the clock tells him the time. Too late. Or, more accurately, too early to finish patrol. He lets himself fall to the ground.

“Happy birthday to me,” he murmurs to himself, letting his wet hair dampen the wall behind him. The first day of spring in Blüdhaven will be magical this year, apparently. With rain, and more rain and maybe even more rain planned.

He doesn’t mind. His birthday hasn’t meant much since the one he celebrated at eight, anyway. And this year, he knows it will mean even less. Some twisted part of him wonders if he will get birthday wishes. Damian - smart, kind, wonderful Damian - will probably remember. He knows Tim will remember, but whether or not this will lead to a message is anyone’s guess.

It’s okay. Tim has every right to be angry with him. They all do. He doesn’t know how he would react if he found out that someone he cared about had been pretending to be dead. In a way, it’s comforting. It means they care about him.

There is Damian left. Damian, who came back from the dead, from a death Dick couldn’t prevent, only to find out Dick was dead, only to find out he wasn’t, and was just pretending. Damian who is twelve and could get angry. Could get so, so angry at Dick and Dick would understand and forgive him. Damian who, inexplicably, isn’t.

He let out a long sigh. He has to be in the coffee shop he currently works in at 8AM. Maybe he can shower and take a power nap before it’s time to go. Yeah. He can do that.

 March 20, 1:47 PM

He smiles. He’s exhausted, and the sound of the rain that had been pouring nonstop is almost painful in his ears, but he smiles. This is something he learned all too well. He smiles, and he lies to his coworkers when they ask him how his night was. It has become a habit now. He lied a lot before, he was pretty good at it, but since Spyral? He has learned to lie about every little thing. He’s also better at seeing lies. He sees it in his coworkers, in the customers. He could barely shut this instinct down before, but now it’s completely impossible.

He tells himself it will make him better at being Nightwing, now that he’s back on the field under that name.

It’s fine.

He was, despite everything, not a bad spy. But then Helena gave him the chance to regain his old life, and he hadn’t hesitated. It doesn’t matter if things aren’t like before. He will keep doing his job, as Nightwing. He can do this.

His job. Keep being Nightwing. Not dying. Bruce had been very clear on that. Not dying.

The number one prerogative.

You can’t expect me to excuse you for losing sight of the value of your life.

I’ve trained you to live, and I had to watch you die.

He can do this. He might even be able to fix his relationship with his family, in due time. He can do this.

March 20, 5:24 PM

He opens his phone to find some messages. The one from Damian, he’s been expecting. He smiles at the idea of the kid. Steph had sent him a flashy gif, with a short message saying it’s both from herself and Cass. He’s got a few messages from the Titans, but nothing like he would have gotten before. No offer to see each other, either. He tries not to take it by heart. He has to give them time. He can’t complain. He’s the one who fucked up, after all.

He smiles again when he sees Alfred’s message, reminding him to take care of himself; and Clark’s, with a selfie of him, Lois, and Jon, all smiling. His heart aches a little. He’s getting better, but he still has a hard time looking at Clark without seeing another man with his face. One who tortured him and strapped him to a bomb.

Duke had sent him an impersonal, standard message that doesn’t hurt as much as the impersonal, standard, cold message he gets from Tim and Barbara. Unsurprisingly, nothing from Jason.

Bruce had sent him an e-mail saying, “Here is the case file you requested. Happy Birthday. B.” Again, he tries not to take it badly. This is Bruce, after all.

He writes thank you, and while the others leave him on read, Damian replies immediately, asking him if he plans to go to the manor that night. Dick actually hesitates. But, he tells himself, the city needs him. Blüdhaven had been without her protector for too long. He can’t really afford to miss a patrol, and there is the case file Bruce had sent him, that could be helpful in the tracking of a drug ring he thinks might be involved with Black Mask. Those are the practical, logical reasons. Another thing might be that he’s not really comfortable around Bruce at the moment. That, too, should pass with time, he tells himself, and it wasn’t the man’s fault he lost his memories, but he left him, all alone in hostile territory, without a failsafe.

Batman, master of backup plans, didn’t have anything to help his own son in case he became compromised. Looks like him staying alive wasn’t a number one priority for everyone.

He chases away the thoughts and replies that he would love to, but he has too much work in Blüdhaven.

“Is one of your friends with you, at least?” Damian asks.

Dick doesn’t like lying to Damian, but in this case, lying costs nothing, and it will make the kid more at ease. Damian had been worried about him recently. Not that he can’t understand it, he himself had been worried about Damian a lot. He’s glad for his friendship with Jon, glad he made a friend his age. Soon, Damian will not need him anymore. But, for now, Damian tends to worry, so he says, “Yes, I’m seeing some friends tonight.”

Damian seems satisfied with this, and doesn’t press him for more information, probably planning to ask them the next time they see each other. Dick will have to make up something believable by then. Maybe tell him he had something planned with his coworkers, but it got canceled. Yes. He could do that.

But for now, he just takes the case file and gets to work.

March 20, 8:32 PM

It’s still too early to go on patrol. Rain is still pounding on the windows of his apartment. He knows what he will do tonight, he has plans. It’s just that his plans don’t start that early. He could probably take a nap, no, scratch that, he should take a nap, maybe order some food to have a nice dinner that isn’t made out of protein bars.

But it’s his birthday, his family and friends are mad at him, and he’s been working nonstop for the past few weeks. He’s not the drinking type, but he really, really needs a drink. Somewhere crowded and lively, if possible. Luckily, he knows a few places in Blüdhaven where he can have that.

March 20, 9:34 PM

The bar is busy, crowded with people, college students talking loudly next to middle-aged friends next to young adults on a date. It’s a nice place, probably a front, because it is Blüdhaven, after all, but a nice place, nonetheless. Dick sits at the bar and orders. He’s not even had half of his drink when a woman comes and sits next to him. She’s wearing a tight dress and heavy makeup. Her hair is blonde, partially dyed red.

“I couldn’t help noticing you from the other side of the bar,” she says. “I have to say, we might be in ‘heaven, but it’s rare to see an angel all alone.”

He let out a small laugh at that. She puts her hand in her hair with a smile. “Ok, my pickup lines are terrible. I’m usually the one getting hit on, not the other way around.”

He smiles back to her. This entire conversation is fake, but it’s not unpleasant. “And what made you change your mind?”

She leans on the bar. “I don’t know, I wanted to do something new. See…” she moves a little closer. “Today is my birthday.” It’s a lie. He doesn’t know why she would lie about something like this. He almost says it’s his, too, but he stops. It’s harmless, but he doesn't want her to know, for some reason. “And I’m all alone, so I was thinking, maybe a handsome man could buy me a drink? As a gift?”

Oh, so that was why she was lying. To get herself a free drink. Oh, and after all why not. “Excuse me,” he calls when the bartender is looking toward them, “could I get the same thing, and…” he looks at the woman with a questioning glance. “A Bloody Mary for me,” she asks with a smile. She exchanges a look with the bartender. Um. Weird. Maybe they have some sort of arrangement, where she makes gullible men pay for more drinks.

“What’s your name?” he asks, realizing he didn’t know.

“Ava,” she says, and he’s not sure if it’s the truth. It might be a name she’s been using a lot. Being a woman, alone in Blüdhaven, she might give a different name to each man, or rotate through a list. “And you?”

“I’m John,” he says, not really knowing why he’s lying. It just feels the right thing to do.

They talk a bit, after that. He invents himself a life, where he’s an aeronautical engineer, whose oldest sister just had a baby. He’s pretty sure she does the same. It feels familiar, to be someone else. He doesn’t know who Dick Grayson is anymore. He knows even less who Nightwing is, and he’s trying not to think about Agent 37. But he can be John, who has a perfect life, and is talking to Ava, who also has a perfect and totally fake life.

She pleads a little when he says he has to go, John has fake work tomorrow, but Dick Grayson does have real work tomorrow and, more importantly, Nightwing has a patrol to go to, so he pays her another drink for good measure and gives her one of his numbers. She gets out with him to say goodbye, but when he leaves, he doesn’t miss the way she approaches the bartender from before, apparently on a smoke break, and removes the cigarette from his lips to put hers in it instead. He shakes his head. So that was what they were hiding. Guy is using his girlfriend to get more tips. Well, he played into their game, so well done to them.

March 21, 4:57 AM

The night at the bar seems another life away, by now. But, hopefully, the operation he needed to take down had been taken down. He removes his uniform, half debating if he should just go to sleep like this. But, no, he thinks, getting his first aid kit out. He needs to look at the damage he’s taken. An overall view tells him it’s not too bad. His torso is blue and black with bruises, so he can’t rule out broken ribs, but there’s nothing much to do about that other than taking it easy. He patches the cut just above his shoulder, where a bullet grazed him, which doesn’t even require stitches, and puts a cold compress on his right knee for the night. The joint is hot and painful, but he can still move it properly, so he hopes it’s just a flare up of an old wound.

He falls face first into his bed, hoping he will feel better in the morning.

March 21, 7:15 AM

The good news is, his leg does feel better after two hours laying down. The bad news is, he’s pretty sure he has a migraine. He’s not usually particularly prone to migraines, but if the throbbing pain in his head and slight nausea is any indication, that’s what’s going on. 

He’ll blame the sleepless nights. For now, he eats a protein bar, takes some ibuprofen, and gets himself ready for work. Maybe tonight, he will do a shorter patrol. Yes. He can do that.

He’ll be fine. Nothing he hasn’t been through before.

It would be nice, still, if he didn’t feel so deeply alone.

March 21, 3:23 PM

The cup of coffee shatters to the ground, spilling everywhere. His coworker lets out a small cry of surprise.

“Shit, sorry, are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you’re lucky it’s quiet. I’ll get the mop,” she says, a bit annoyed.

He turns toward the customers. They’re two college girls who often come between classes. He’s glad it’s them and not one of the annoying customers. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’ll remake your order immediately.”

One of them nods. “No problem, are you okay? You’re usually so agile.” He did juggle with cups in front of them a few times.

He smiles at them. A fake smile, like he does so much. “I’m fine, I just need a bit of rest.”

She laughs. “Don’t we all?”

He says nothing to that, and goes back to her coffee. But she’s right. It’s unlike him to just drop something. Maybe he’s more tired than he thinks he is. That, and the headache that hadn’t let up, despite the meds.

He will definitely stick to a short patrol tonight.

March 22, 2:48 AM

He’s shaking, or shivering, maybe, when he makes his way into his apartment. He did help a few people, so he’s glad he went on patrol, despite the exhaustion.

Because that’s what it is, right? Exhaustion, maybe a bit of hypothermia. It had been raining nonstop after all. Nothing a hot shower and a good night’s sleep won’t fix. He’s sure of that.

March 22, 5:17 AM

He’s woken up by the near constant headache becoming absolutely unbearable. He barely has time to throw himself out of the bed and into the toilet before he’s letting go of everything he managed to stomach the day before.

And he’s still shaking. He’s cold, and he can’t seem to stop shaking.

He groans when he pushes himself off the toilet. Okay. It’s time for him to stop being in denial. Something is wrong. He reaches blindly for his first aid kit and checks that the wound on his neck isn’t infected. It isn’t. His torso is still a nice shade of blue, turning toward yellowish, but it’s not worse than it was before, and he hadn’t been throwing up blood. Plus, the bruises are on his torso, not stomach. He hopes that rules out any internal bleeding. He hadn’t been exposed to anything on patrol. That leaves plain old regular illness. Just his luck to catch the flu when the season is almost over, he guesses.

He takes the thermometer in his kit, already expecting to find himself feverish. Except the numbers on the device aren’t at all what he expected.

He blinks. Is it possible to have the flu without any fever?

That’s probably a question he will have to ask himself later. For now, he stays cramped in his bathroom, too tired to even make the way back to the bed.

March 22, 8:05 AM

“You look like shit.”

Dick turns toward his coworker. He kinda feels like shit, too, if he’s being honest. His hands are shaking as he is putting the coffee maker in place.

“Thanks. I have the flu, I think,” he says behind the surgical mask he put on his face.

She takes a step back. “Um. Yeah, no, you’re out of here. I can handle today on my own, go home.”

He blinks. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I don’t want you to throw coffee on me again.”

“That was… it won’t happen again, I swear.” Also, it wasn’t technically on her, just very close.

She doesn’t look impressed. “And, I have an important thing in two days, so I’m not letting you get me sick.”

She’s only half-sincere. He knows her. Her cold exterior is a wall she had created to hide the fact that she actually cares about everything and everyone.

“Thanks,” he says before taking his stuff and going. He feels bad, leaving her to deal with the shop, but she’s right. He will be a hindrance like this.

 March 22, 9:15 PM

Going on patrol is a joke. He managed to get some more sleep throughout the day, but he feels like he’s only getting worse. He can barely walk more than a few feet. He knows, for a fact, that if he goes out like this, he will get himself killed. And that’s not in his plans. Been there, done that, and all.

He should probably sleep some more; let whatever disease it is run its course. He should probably eat, too, but that seems impossible at the moment.  

Some part of his mind wishes he could call Barbara. She’s never been judgmental when it came to listening to him whine, and talking to her whenever he’s sick or injured always made him feel better. But he can’t call her right now. It’s not the first time he needs her and she’s not ready to talk to him. Not the first time it’s his fault.

How many times can someone fuck up and still be forgiven?

He tries not to think about this. Not right now. Not when he can’t go fly off of rooftops to let go of his feelings.

For now, he will just sleep.

March 23, 10:52 AM

He wakes up unable to breathe, something caught in his throat, a hand, a pill, and he can’t breathe, he will die, he will die in front of Batman, and he can’t do that, he can’t do that, he can’t-

He barely has time to take the trash can he had thoughtfully put next to the bed and dry heave into it, his stomach having been empty for a while.

His hands can barely hold the can. The sheets are drenched with sweat, but his thermometer stubbornly still shows the same result. It hurts to think. He knows today will be spent doing nothing. He thinks maybe he should have felt better, by now, at least a little. Instead, he only feels himself getting worse.

March 23, 4:21 PM

There is something really wrong, he thinks as his thermometer still displays the same number. An infection this bad wouldn’t come without fever. He knows his body. And this is not normal.

Besides, his symptoms don’t really look like a typical virus. So, that leaves the possibility of poisoning. He doesn’t remember any moment when he was out as Nightwing where he could have been poisoned, but with this kind of job… there is no way to tell, really.

He stands to get his testing kit, only to immediately fall down.

Um.

Great.

Slowly, he gets up to his hands and knees to get his testing kit. It’s only a basic one, for the poisons and toxins they are the most accustomed to, but it might do the trick. If not… he’ll see what he’ll do then.

Despite his shaking hand, he manages to draw blood. He does nick his arm several times, and needs a bigger band aid than he normally would have, but he manages to get some of his blood.

And then he waits. And hopes it’s nothing he can’t deal with himself.

Black spots are dancing in front of his eyes when he finally sees the result. And it almost makes him cry with frustration.

Because it’s clean.

His blood is clean.

He’s dehydrated, a bit hypoglycemic, but there are none of the toxins recorded in his database in his system.

Which means two things: it’s not something he knows, or it’s undetectable.

He closes his eyes to think for a second or two. He needs to go somewhere with a better analyzer, or a better database. Possibly both.

He has several choices:

The Justice League Watchtower. He’s not sure if he still has clearance, and not sure how he will get there in the first place.

Titan Tower. Tempting, he’s not going to lie. But the idea of traveling to San Francisco now, in the state he’s in, seems like a bad idea. He could have maybe done the trip two days ago when he first realized something was wrong. He’s stupid. The Titans might be cold now, they might need some time to forgive him, but they wouldn’t deny him help. At least, he hopes.

Spyral headquarters. Yeah. That would be a huge no.

Which leaves… the Batcave. It’s not far, he can make the trip. He has clearance, and with a little luck he can be in and out without meeting anyone. That sounds doable. Not safe - not by a long shot - but doable.

Batcave it is, he decides, hoping he won’t regret the decision.

March 23, 6:41 PM

He’s made safer rides. Faster ones, too. But he’s finally in the cave. Now he just has to find out what is wrong with him, so he can fix it. And if the Batcomputer doesn’t give him anything, he’ll go to the free clinic. He hasn’t seen Leslie much since he came back, but he knows she’s a professional. If she has things to say to him, she will do so after he’s better. And she might even be on his side if he tries to hide whatever this is from Bruce.

But maybe it won’t come to that. Maybe the Batcomputer will have a match, and maybe even an antidote ready. It’s still early. With luck, he might not run into anybody.

“Dick?”

He clenches his hand on the computer desk. When has he ever been lucky?

“What are you doing here, chum?”

He hates that Bruce talks to him like this. Like everything is fine. Like he hadn’t beaten him up in this very cave.

Bruce makes a step toward him. “Should I ask Alfred to make you a plate for dinner? Tim should be arriving soon, I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

Dick almost laughs, because, yeah, are you sure about that? But he doesn’t have the energy to fight, and if Tim is coming, that means he’s on a timer.

He stands, hoping Bruce doesn’t notice the way he pushes his still trembling arm on the desk to do so, intending to tell Bruce he doesn’t have time, that he was on his way out, but no sound comes out of his mouth.

He knows the words. He knows what he wants to say. And he knows his vocal cords work. He just can’t get the words out for some reason.  

“Chum? What’s wrong?”

What isn’t wrong? he wants to ask. Why are you acting like everything is fine when it isn’t?  Does what happened mean so little to you? Do I mean so little to you?

But his mouth opens, and no sound gets out.

“Why don’t you sit back down?” Bruce asks, and maybe he should, because the world is spinning and the edge of his vision is receding, and there is a noise, somewhere, of a bike, but it seems so close and so far away at the same time, and it’s Tim and Tim doesn’t want to see him, and he should go, and-

March 23, 6:58 PM

“Dick? Can you hear me?”

He’s on the floor in the cave. There is something beneath his head. He groans, or at least he thinks he does. Bruce is here, and Tim, too. He should probably go, but he can’t move.

“You had a seizure,” Bruce says, and that explains why he’s on the ground. “Leslie is on her way, but can you tell me anything you remember that might have caused this?”

He knows what might have caused this. He’s been sick, or poisoned, or something, except he doesn’t know with what, and that was why he was here. He doesn’t even know when-

Wait. That night at the bar. The woman. Ava. She exchanged a look with the bartender, and he thought it was because they had a deal to make him pay a bit more than his share. What if it was another kind of deal? What if they were actually trying to poison him?

He doesn’t want to know what Bruce will say when he finds out.

Nonetheless, now that he’s in that situation, unable to move on the cave floor, he should probably tell Bruce.

But again, when he opens his mouth, he can’t speak. He can’t speak and he can’t move, and suddenly he can’t breathe, and once again, there is a hand on his face, and he’s going to die, again, in front of Bruce.

And he can’t. He can’t fail again.

He wants to say he’s sorry, but he can’t. He hopes his eyes transmit the message.

He hopes Bruce sees anything but fear.

March 23, 7:35 PM

“-injured, but nothing that could-”

“-analyzing something on the Batcomputer, maybe-”

“-didn’t he ask for help earlier?”

“Why do you think, Drake?”

Damian snapping takes Dick back to reality. He’s still in the cave in the medical area. And he can’t move. He’s not restrained, merely lightly strapped to the cot so that he won’t fall, but he can’t move a finger. He can’t go to Damian, can’t help the kid calm down.

There is a heart monitor beeping somewhere, and an uncomfortable, if not outright painful thing down his throat. It’s not a pill, he tries to remember. It doesn’t feel like a pill. It’s a respirator.

He’s awake, but he can’t breathe on his own. He tries not to panic, because that would only make things worse. He can’t move. Even his eyes are static, giving him a small curtain of the area of the cave he’s in. His body, the thing he trusts the most, has betrayed him. But panicking will only make everything worse. So, he tries not to panic. Instead, he focuses on the voices.

“Enough,” someone, Batman, his mind supplies, says. “Now is not the time for that.” And Dick wants to laugh, because it’s never the time for that. There is always something more urgent, that means they will bury everything and keep going. And he’s always been so good at this. Except for the few times when he wasn’t.

Well, right now, the more urgent thing seems to be saving his life, so he doesn’t really have a right to complain.

“Oracle,” he says, “can you access his cowl footage?”

Again, Dick doesn’t know if he should cry or laugh. He agreed for Barbara to have access to his cowl footage for cases like this, but he knows she won’t find anything on it. Not if his suspicions are true.

“Hood?”

“I’m on my way to his place,” comes Jason’s modulated voice. “I still have a spare key, if he didn’t change the lock.”

That’s right. Jason’s spare key. He had given him when he had just started warming up to the family “in case you ever need a place to crash.” A way to make up for a phone number that was once given but never useful. A way to mend a broken relationship.

And didn’t that go well.

“Take his suit, and anything you deem useful, but remember not to touch anything, we don’t know how he’s been poisoned.”

“Or if he’s been poisoned,” Tim points out. “It might be something completely natural.”

He can hear Bruce letting out a long sigh. “I’ll have the CT scan and MRI ready. His blood is clean, but we might do a spinal tap depending on the results.”

“Wait, doesn’t he have, like, nanotech in his brain? Is an MRI safe?” Steph asks, and for the first time he realizes she’s here.

Already, he feels himself straying away from awareness, and the voices become distant.

“… don’t think Spyral… such an obvious weakness.” 

“We will have to risk it.”

Steph replies something, but Dick never quite finds out what it is.

March 24, 2:47 AM

Dick wakes up, so he imagines the MRI didn’t fry his brain. Or didn’t fry it more than it is. Because waking up is a big word for what happens. He still can’t move. At all. But he can feel, and someone is holding his hand.

It takes him more time that he’s proud to admit to realize this is Damian, and, despite everything, despite the situation he’s in, his first thought is that Damian should be asleep. He has school tomorrow. Or does he? Dick hadn’t been really good with tracking days, lately.

“You will be fine,” Damian says, voice like steel. There is no possible alternative. He’s not unlike his father, in that regard. Dick will be okay. If not, it’s a failure on his part. But he knows Damian, surprisingly, isn’t as harsh with failure as Bruce is. “Father will find what happened to you, and save you. And you will push through. He is Batman,” Damian leans on the bed, to whisper like a secret, “and so are you.”   

And, there it is. Unwavering faith. Damian’s strategy against fear. He wants to squeeze his hand back, to tell him everything is going to be fine, that it’s probably nothing, some kind of poison, nothing he hadn’t seen before. That it would take more than that to take him out, to take him away from Damian.

But he’s not so sure about that, now. It had been very easy, easier than he feels comfortable to admit, for the universe to split Damian and him. The heretic swinging a giant sword at Damian’s heart, when Dick had been there, unable to stop it. It was all it took.

It had been so easy. Just like whatever happened to him had been so easy to inflict. Just one moment of inattention. Just one miserable moment of inattention, and now he’s completely paralyzed. Dependent on others to save him. He can’t even hold Damian’s hand back.

But his thoughts are interrupted by a noise from the Batcomputer. Damian jumps a little, perhaps he was starting to fall asleep, and turns toward the computer. The warmth in Dick’s hand disappears, and he’s not proud of it, but he would probably have whined if he could. He feels like this was the first gentle touch he’s had in weeks, and maybe it is, and now Damian is just gone to see whatever is happening.

“Father,” he hears a moment later and he assumes he’s on comm. “Yes, there is an unfamiliar substance in his spinal fluid.”

That grabs Dick’s attention. So, they had done a spinal tap after all. And if there is something… there is progress. They will find what’s wrong, and he will be able to get out of here.

Although, he knows it won’t be as simple. He’s probably looking at a long recovery, and Bruce might not let him go so soon.

Unless he does. Unless he sends him away again.

Maybe Dick shouldn’t have come to the cave. Maybe he should have tried to make the trip to the Watchtower or Titan Tower instead.

“Not something that should be there, that’s for sure,” Damian’s voice says, having him refocus on the child. “But it’s not in any databases.”

Bruce must reply something, because Damian makes a sound of acknowledgement.

He half-expects Damian to come back, half-hopes he will come back, but the warmth of Daman’s hand is definitely lost.

Without it, without anything to focus on but the limited view he has of the cave, Dick feels himself drifting back into unconsciousness.

March 24, 8:22 AM

“Superman has been made aware and is looking into this compound.” Bruce’s voice is the first thing Dick hears when he emerges from slumber.

He hears Steph sigh. “Developing an anti-poison from scratch could take ages.”

“And we don’t know how much time Dick has,” Tim finishes for her, sounding defeated.

“I could look over the mask footage again,” Barbara offers, her Oracle voice familiar and comforting despite everything. “But there was nothing of importance the first two times I saw it, Steph and Duke saw nothing, either. And Cass has seen nothing usual in Blüdhaven tonight.”

He hears Jason curse, and something breaks in a corner of the cave. “His apartment gave us nothing. The mask footage gave us nothing. We’ve tested this compound in all our databases, and-”

“Not all of them.”

This is Damian’s voice. So small, like he’s thinking, or ready to admit something he’s not proud of.

“Excuse me?” Jason asks.

“Not all our databases. Grandfather has an extensive library of poisons and the knowledge to go with it. Probably more than the JLA databases or the Batcomputer.”

“Oh, well, yes sure,” Tim says. “Let’s just call Ra’s and ask him for help. What could go wrong?”

He hears Damian take a breath, ready to reply something, but Steph takes the situation into her hands. “Damian… Tim is right. Even if he was willing to help, which I doubt, we don’t exactly have a direct line to Ra’s, do we?”

There is a silence after that, and he doesn’t know what is on Damian’s face, but the next sound he hears is Steph asking in a loud voice, “You have a direct line to Ra’s?!”

“Well,” Damian sounds embarrassed, “not to him, per se.”

Bruce sighs. “You have a way to contact Talia.” It’s not a question.

Damian doesn’t say anything to that, which is confirmation enough. Somewhere on the other side of Dick, Jason curses again.

“Last time I checked,” Damian says, “there were no rules against having contact with my mother.”

“Will you tell me how to contact her?” Bruce asks. “Or at least, let me talk to her?”

And because it’s Damian, and he’s nothing if not loyal, he says, “No. I will contact her on my own and get the information we want.”

Dick would have laughed if he could. He can perfectly imagine the situation. Wayne stubbornness hitting Wayne stubbornness. There is a short silence where even he can feel the tension in the cave, before Bruce gives in. “Phone only,” he still orders.

“Phone only,” Damian agrees.       

March 24, 9:36 AM

A hand touching him is what wakes Dick up. This is unsettling, even more so because he doesn’t remember actually falling asleep.

From his limited vision, he can see that it’s Alfred, moving his articulations. He knows this is necessary, otherwise he’s exposing himself to all sorts of complications, and the movements are both gentle and professional, but it’s still uncomfortable.

“My dear boy, what have you gotten yourself into?” Alfred says, and there is something reassuring in hearing him talk. And that way, Dick knows perfectly where he is.

He moves, and Dick realizes he has apparently finished with his limbs, and starts to put drops in his eyes. The feeling is heavenly. With everything, he hadn’t realized how dry his eyes were.

“Sometimes, I feel like all of you are trying to send me to an early grave.”

He moves, and Dick can feel a washcloth on his face. But it’s clear this is not as much a medical act as an emotional one. “I see you coming back to us, only for the world to try to take you again.”

I’m sorry, Dick wants to say. He wants to apologize over and over for everything. For Spyral. For his mistake at the bar. But he can’t.

“When you’re better,” Alfred promises, “I’ll make sure to feed you and heal these bruises. No matter what happens between us, it’s my duty, since you first set foot in this manor.”

“Pennyworth.”

Damian’s voice seems to distract Alfred, and the hand on Dick’s face disappears.

“How is he?” Damian asks, unsure.

“No change so far, I’m afraid.”

There is a short silence before he adds, “But that also means he’s not getting worse.”

“Is he in pain?” Damian asks again.

“Hard to tell. But I made sure he’s as comfortable as possible, if he’s conscious, that is.”

Damian makes a noise of approval. It is true that Dick isn’t in pain. He doesn’t know what is in the IV he can feel in his arm, but he has the certainty that Alfred did everything in his power to spare him as much as possible.

“Have you managed to contact your mother?” Alfred asks.

“Yes,” is Damian’s immediate answer. “That’s what I came to tell you. Gather everyone.”

March 24, 10:27 AM

“What do you mean it’s not dangerous? Clearly something is wrong with him.”

Tim seems annoyed, and to be honest, Dick is a little annoyed too. He hoped this mysterious compound would be the solution to his immobility.

“What I mean is that this is not something that is used as a poison for humans in the League, and such small quantities should be harmless to a standard human brain. It is used to poison computer systems and robots.”

There is a heavy silence in the cave, and Dick can guess everyone is thinking the same thing he is.

“So, Hypnos? Hypnos is killing him?” Tim finally says. “And given the rarity of this molecule, it’s unlikely he swallowed it by accident. Someone had been targeting him.”

Dick takes a second to let that sink in. Someone had been targeting Agent 37. Not Nightwing, not even Dick Grayson, but specifically Agent 37.

“This is an assassination attempt, targeting Spyral agents in particular,” Bruce says, mirroring his thoughts. “I’ll need to make some calls.”

“Anything to look out for while I’m on patrol today?” he hears Duke say.

“You’re going on patrol?” Steph asks.

There are a few seconds of silence when Dick can imagine all eyes are turned toward Duke.

“I mean, yeah,” he finally says. “I thought-”

“When was the last time you slept?” Tim asks and Dick would probably have laughed if he could.

“Look, I was just thinking-”

Bruce sighs loudly, cutting Duke off. “All of you, get some rest. There is no point in exhausting ourselves until we have a lead.”

Dick’s body seems to be listening to the orders as well, because he barely hears the protestations.   

March 24, 2:42 PM

“I’m still mad at you, you know.”

Dick wakes up to Tim’s voice. Shouldn’t he be resting?

“And I know I shouldn’t be in the cave, especially since I’m the one who told Duke to rest, but I couldn’t sleep, and I’m sure Bruce is working somewhere,” he says, as if reading Dick’s mind. But it’s true. Bruce is probably working somewhere. Dick would be, too, if their roles were reversed.

“But you? You go away, you make us all think you-” he stops, takes a sharp breath. “And then you come back, and you won’t see us, and when you come to the cave this happens? That’s just…”

Another breath.

You were the ones who didn’t want to see me, Dick wants to say. You were the ones who couldn’t stand to be near me.

But is that true? Sure, Tim was mad, furious, even, when he came back. He felt understandably betrayed. But he never said he couldn’t stand being with Dick. He never said fixing their relationship was impossible.

Bruce’s words from what seems like an eternity ago cross his mind.

“Tim should be arriving soon, I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

Maybe there was some truth to the statement. Maybe, just maybe, with time and effort, they could fix things up.

Maybe there is still hope for them.

(And isn’t that what Robin is about, after all? Hope?)

“You know, when I was a kid, you were unbreakable, infallible. B was, as well, but not in the same way you were. You were strong, charismatic, undefeated, and most of all, you trusted me. You treated me as an equal. And then… and then I grew up. And I realized you weren’t as foolproof as I thought you were. And I realized you didn’t trust me as much as I thought you did.”

He sounds tired. Dick is tired, too, even if he’s been sleeping a lot lately. He’s tired of everything falling on them, one thing after another. But he did trust Tim. He did treat him as equal.

“Because that’s what it falls down to, right? Trust. You trusted me enough to stop me from being Robin, but not enough to let me know you weren’t dead?”

“What are you doing down here?”

That is Steph’s voice, and Dick can hear her walking down the stairs. Tim moves, and soon their voices calm down to whispers.

 March 24, 3:57 PM

“-but I should have known, so, really, it’s on me here, Bruce, isn’t it?”

Um. Barbara seems upset. He should probably do something about it. Find out what’s going on, how he can help. Bring a blanket and ice cream. Except he can’t move, and Barbara is still mad at him.

“I can’t believe all this time you said nothing. Or, yeah, actually, I can believe it. I just can’t believe I’ve been so naïve I didn’t see it. And to say I spent so long restoring the footage, thinking it was something that might be related to Dick’s condition, and it was this? You could have at least told me you deleted it. Why did you even protect it so much?”

“It was confidential information-”

“As opposed to everything else that is happening in this cave? No, I don’t think you hid it from outside hackers. I think you tried to hide it from us, from me. Well, newsflash, Bruce, when it comes to computers, I’m better than-”

“Damn it, Barbara!” There is the sound of something heavy falling and Dick feels a twist in his guts despite himself. He always had this reaction to hearing Bruce yell, a mix between fear, shame, and anger, but this had become worse since… Since. “Do you want to know why I deleted the footage? You were right, I wasn’t worried about someone hacking in. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you either. I was hiding it from myself.”

“That is-”

“I spent hours, looking at that footage, over and over again, wondering if I did the right thing, until I decided to delete it in a way I couldn’t reverse. You’re right. You’re better than me when it comes to computers. Because I wouldn’t have been able to restore this footage. I made sure of it.”

There is some silence before Barbara says, her voice like icy steel. “Well, you can stop asking yourself that. I have the answer. You didn’t do the right thing.”

Bruce seems ready to answer, but a ping in the computer distracts him.

“Am I interrupting something?” says a voice Dick would recognize anywhere. He would probably also be choking with surprise if he could. Because of all people, Bruce called Midnighter?     

“You’re not,” Bruce says. “We need your help. We think someone is targeting Spyral’s agents.”

“Then you should probably talk to Spyral, not to me. Because I don’t really see why I would help.”

“We know you’re not on friendly terms with Spyral-”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“But,” Bruce moves his chair, and Dick guesses Midnighter can now see him. “We also know you carry affection for my son.”

There is a silence, Midnighter assessing the situation, before he simply says, “That’s also one way to put it.”

“Someone poisoned him, using the hypnos as a tool-” Dick can distinctly hear Midnigher muttering, “Of fucking course.” “-And an enemy of Spyral might know more than Spyral themselves.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, I haven’t heard anything. But I do carry affection for him, as you put it. Both on a personal and strategic level, I wouldn’t want for him to die. I’ll look into it.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“And you, what are you going to do?”

Bruce seems to think for a moment, gauging what is safe to say and what isn’t. “I will meet with someone who might know more about this poison than I do.”

“And who would that be?” Midnighter asks, not one to leave information.

“My ex-lover.” Bruce says, in a tone that makes it clear it’s all the information he’s willing to tell.

“Oooh, juicy,” says Midnighter, apparently understanding he’s not going to get much more. “Well, tell him not to die before I kill him and all that. I’ll contact you if I find anything.”

The feed cuts, and it’s just Bruce and Dick.

There are a few minutes of silence, where Dick thinks maybe Bruce is working on something, or maybe he left stealthily, but then he hears something break. Bruce paces around in the cave to the training area, and it almost baffles Dick how similar his anger and frustration is to Jason’s.

There are some more noises, after that, that Dick just leaves into the background of his mind, until Bruce comes back, his breathing heavy. He stops in front of the cot.

“I really made a mess, didn’t I?” he asks.

Dick doesn’t reply. He can’t, but he probably wouldn’t if he wanted to. It’s true, and he doesn’t know if he can forgive Bruce and keep going. But he wants to.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” He’s not just talking about the paralysis and they both know it. “I just… it seemed the best decision at the moment.”

It wasn’t, as Barbara pointed out. Dick spent dozens of nights thinking how things could have gone differently. He would bet Bruce did, too.

He doesn’t know how to fix things. With Bruce, with Tim, Jason, and Barbara.

He’s just so, so, so tired.

March 25, 0:12 AM

“-vitals have been tanking since a few hours ago. We don’t have time to-”

“-Mother, but-”

“-can’t make things any worse.”

“We have to try. Give me the syringe.”

March 25, 8:43 AM

Something is down his throat. He felt the respirator for the last day, but now it’s even more present he needs it out. Now.

“He’s fighting it,” someone - Alfred? - says from above him.

And then he’s gone again.

March 25, 1:04 PM

Dick blinks.

It takes him a few minutes to realize what just happened. The respirator is gone, replaced by a simple mask, and, while focusing on his limbs gives him nothing, he can blink.

That is progress, even if now that he can breathe and blink, he feels the urge to run and fly away. The need for movement, that left him strangely alone the last day, is back, and he can feel how bad the recovery will be.

“Grayson?” says a voice from somewhere, and Damian appears in front of him.

“Are you awake? Blink once for yes.”

Dick slowly blinks.

“Are you… do you know who I am, once for yes, twice for no.”

Of course, he knows who Damian is. How could he forget? He blinks and the smile on Damian’s face almost makes everything that happened in the last few days’ worth it. 

“I’m going to get Pennyworth.” Damian says and with that he’s gone.

Alfred comes in a few minutes later to ask him some standard neurological questions, as well as assessing his pain level.

Dick is already exhausted when Bruce comes in. He feels his throat tighten up. He doesn’t feel like he can deal with Bruce, right now.

But the man sits next to him, and asks in a professional, Batman voice. “Do you know what happened to you?”

Dick blinks once.

“You were poisoned,” Bruce explains anyway. “We think the assassin was targeting you for your involvement with Spyral. Do you have an idea of when it could have happened or who could have poisoned you?”

Dick blinks once.

“Did it happen as Nightwing?”

Dick blinks twice.

“As Dick Grayson specifically?”

Again, Dick blinks two times. Dick Grayson wasn’t the target. He was in the bar alone, and he didn’t give his real name.

“I’m going to run you through a series of dates. Blinks twice if it’s not the one you have suspicion on, once if it is.”

Dick blinks twice for all the dates, until the 20th.  

“He told me he was with friends that night,” Damian interjects, and Dick curses the small lie. He blinks two times.

“You weren’t with friends, then?” Bruce asks. Dick blinks. Damian makes a small sound of disapproval. Dick will have to apologize later.

“Then where were you?” Bruce asks, knowing fully Dick can’t answer that kind of question.

“We can ask Miss Barbara to track his movement on that day with the street cameras,” Alfred offers. “Do you think that would work?” he asks Dick.

Dick blinks. He didn’t specifically avoid the cameras, so she will probably find him.

“Have you had symptoms since the 20th?” Bruce asks.

Shamefully, Dick blinks once.

“Then why didn’t you come to the cave immediately?” he asks, again, knowing Dick can’t answer. From the corner of his vision, he can see Damian sending daggers with his eyes.

“I’m sure Master Dick had a good reason to do so,” Alfred says. “Now, if you would excuse me, I would like to tend to him, in private.”

This is a way to end the conversation, Bruce and Damian aren’t fooled, but they still leave him to Alfred.

“I’m glad to see you responding,” Alfred says, and he’s the first person to actually say it, which warms Dick’s heart a little. “I have to say, I would have preferred not having to rely on a solution offered by Miss Al Ghul, but it looks like she saved your life.”      

Dick blinks once. He’s glad, too, even if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Being in debt to Talia isn’t something he wanted to be. And then there is also the fact that Bruce involved Midnighter. The man helped him on more than one occasion, and vice versa, but to think they’re unconditional allies would be a dangerous misconception.

He’s exhausted again by the time Alfred has finished taking care of him, his eyes closing by themselves.

There is a remnant of fear, something in the back of his mind telling him that if he sleeps, he might wake up unable to even move his eyes again. Alfred, smart as usual, seems to notice it, and he bends down to say, “Sleep, dear boy, we will still be here when you wake up.”

So, Dick sleeps.    

March 25, 5:39 PM

“Hey. You’re awake?”

Dick blinks once. Jason’s face appears in front of him, soon followed by two pieces of paper with pictures of Ava and the bartender on them.

“Recognize them?”

Dick blinks.

“You think they’re the people who poisoned you?”

He blinks again.

“Yeah, that’s what we think, too. Babs retraced your steps and Tim and Cass went to interrogate people - in broad daylight, mind you - to get their description. Our new friend Midnighter – who’s great, you’ve met great people while you were out there being a lying asshole - found something corresponding to the description. Turns out they are assassins who call themselves Hades and Persephone, which is about as lame as it gets. They tried to give the poison to everyone corresponding to your vague description for months, knowing it would only react with someone who has hypnos. They flew the second they realized we were on to them, and we will have to catch them if we want some info on the contractor. Which is really what’s important here.”

He smirks. “So, how does it feel to be almost killed by people who call themselves the most overused mythological names of the last decade?”

Dick sends him an unimpressed look and Jason laughs some more. It feels nice, hearing Jason’s laugh, being teased, even if he doesn’t forget the comment he made earlier. He didn’t think it would happen again.

“I won’t forgive you, or Bruce,” Jason says, now out of his field of view and he knows whatever they had before is over. “But all in all, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

March 25, 7:12 PM

His next visitor is Barbara. She moves to his cot just as he’s practicing visualizing his fingers and trying to move them.

“Hey,” she says in a low voice. He blinks her a greeting.

“We need to talk.” Now might not be the best time, but he blinks again. If she wants to talk now, it’s important.

“I wasn’t looking for it, but I saw the feed of the cave from the day the crime syndicate captured you.”

He closes his eyes and takes a breath as deep as he can. He had expected it from the conversation he overheard between Bruce and her. But still. She knows. He knew the secret wouldn’t be kept forever, not with a family of detectives. He’s glad it’s Barbara and not Jason, or Tim or worse, Damian who found the video.

“Do you want me to tell Tim and Jason?” she asks.

He blinks two times. This is not her story to tell.

“Ok,” she says, in a soft voice. “I’m still… I don’t know how to feel yet. But, you know you don’t have to forgive him, right?”  

He blinks once. He knows.

“But you will anyway,” she finishes for him. “That’s who you are.”

She let out an annoyed and tired breath.

“Do you… if staying here is difficult, I could arrange for you to stay at the clinic while you recover, now that we have an antidote.”

He thinks about it. Blinks one time.

He thinks about Bruce, so distressed about the mess of his own making. He thinks about Tim, who was willing to try, and he thinks about Jason. 

All in all, I’m glad you’re not dead. As far as he will go with affection.

He thinks of Damian’s smile, of Alfred’s care.

He blinks a second time.  

-     

Note: I hope you enjoyed! Many thanks to @ohmytoddhewitt for beta reading!

[chishiya-of-diamonds]

0: Height

1: Age

8: Want any tattoos?

10: Want any piercings?

11: Best friend?

13: Biggest turn ons

14: Biggest turn offs

16: I’ll love you if…

19: A fact about your personality

26: My biggest pet peeves

27: A description of the girl/boy I like

28: A description of the person I dislike the most

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend

31: What my last text message says

33: What words make me feel the best about myself

34: What I find attractive in women

40: Who I wish I could be

41: Where I want to be right now

42: The last thing I ate

SINCE YOU YELLED AT ME TO DO IT 🙄

~Narumi

@twentyfourhourtitts

Hello, Narumi. I am sorry it took me so long to answer these, but I was giving them serious thought. You will likely disappointed as I do not have answers for all of them, but I did do my best.

I was not yelling at you. I was merely trying to get people’s attention.

Here are my answers:

0: Height

5’ 6”.

1: Age

24.

8: Want any tattoos?

No; no desire or plans for tattoos.

10: Want any piercings?

No; no desire or plans for piercings.

11: Best Friend?

While I don’t usually consider those around me to be “friends”, particularly here in the Borderlands, I would think it is obvious that Kuina is my only best friend. She may have that title by default, given the fact that nobody else will tolerate me for any significant amount of time. Although that is probably due to the fact that I purposely make it difficult for anyone to want to be around me.

13: Biggest turn ons

This does not really apply to me.

14: Biggest turn offs

Again, this does not apply to me.

16: I’ll love you if…

I am not even sure what this means or how it is meant to be answered. If you provide clarification, I will answer it separately.

19: A fact about my personality

If I were to take a guess, it would seem to me that this is supposed to be one of those “little known” facts; a secret, perhaps.

Hm. After sitting here for several minutes trying to come up with an answer, I am not having much luck.

One thing people probably find difficult to believe about me is, as far as how I interact with people, I am basically an honest person. I believe this is usually the cause for people not liking me. If there is something about a person that I do not care for, I will tell them. People claim that they want honesty from others but I guarantee you, if you look at someone and tell them they are being unreasonable, dramatic, ignorant, or deliberately obtuse, they get very angry. Behaving otherwise cultivates dishonesty on a base level and it is something I do not tolerate well at all. I prefer to look right at someone and tell them they are an idiot. Hence, I do not have to work much harder at being left alone by others.

How was that?

26: My biggest pet peeve

Ignorance. Hence, the reason I look irritated/am irritated 24/7.

27: A description of a girl/boy I like

Once again, my sexuality is such that I do not experience this particular scenario, thus, this doe not apply to me.

28: A description of the person I dislike the most

Someone I truly, madly, deeply…dislike? Hmm.

Now, I know what you are all thinking- I’m going to say this person is tall, 6 feet perhaps, shoulder length black hair, lean build…no. If you want an absolute honest answer and It’s not someone that merely annoys me on a basic level- even if this person is constantly on the one raw, open nerve I have left, it is not Niragi.

This person is female. I’d have to guess as to what her physical appearance is currently, as I have not seen this person since I was a small child; perhaps just before I turned 3 years old. I actually cannot recall any of her physical attributes, being that I was only a toddler the last time I saw her. There is nothing left of her in my memory to recall. Pictures in magazines are all I’ve seen of her since then and I have long since stopped looking for those, so I have no idea what she looks like now.

I’ll just name her, but it won’t answer the question as to her appearance.

Mother.

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend

Well, I’ve lied to Kuina on a fairly regular basis, but that was only because it was easier for her to find out on her own rather than me saying something like, “Yes, I’m fairly certain (insert name) is dead. I was standing next to them when their head exploded all over me. I have brain tissue in my hair that I can show you, if that helps.”

31: What my last text message says

33: What words make me feel best about myself

This is a difficult one. To begin with, I am unsure who these words are coming from. In general though, I can say I do not care what words are used to describe me, therefore I have no real reaction to them.

34: What I find attractive in women

Whether male or female, I find the same traits attractive. The most important to me is that someone be genuine and honest about who they are. Some people change their behavior depending on what social circle they are in and I have no patience for that. If a person is kind and caring to one group of people (doctors often do this with their patients) and then change behavior with others (in doctors, this is usually done around their peers), that is unacceptable to me. Be who you are, regardless of who you are with.

Confidence, intelligence, self-worth- these are also things I tend to…maybe not “find attractive”, but I admire in people.

40: Who I wish I could be

I have no answer to this one. It makes no sense. I am me and there is no alternative so I have never given this any thought.

41: Where I want to be right now

At home- my real home, in the real world- in bed, on a Saturday morning, watching horribly boring, bad television with V next to me and Yuki snuggled in between us clutching her doll, Lala, with the pink hair (and obnoxiously large, hard plastic head that often wakes me up in the night because it somehow becomes wedged under my ribs).

42: The last thing I ate

Pickled sugar snap peas.

-SC.

[nightmare-foundation]

I keep seeing and impulsively checking the blog of an old fairly toxic friend of mine n I just.

Man. Why do YOU have to be doing well. Why am I the only one who looks back and ends up feeling awful.

Not that I want him to suffer. It's better he doesn't. But like,, I'm always the one on the chopping block between the two of us. It's been 4 YEARS and one month since we've completely ceased contact. Yet my dumb ass STILL can't not think abt him at random

Like,, I'm sure I wasn't completely innocent. I was a really weird 13 year old who never had a genuine friend before, not to mention my mental illness and trauma I had yet to uncover. Yet the only person who never communicated nor seemed to care about our friendship was him. I could be pushy at times, yeah, but I always backed down if told no and whatnot.

Not only that, but I'm still annoyed that he straight up LIED about me and what I was like. One of his (ADULT) friends had contacted me in late 2018, claiming I was, and I quote, "manipulative, misgendered him, and used him as an emotional dump truck". I was 13 years old, and my only friend besides one other person had blocked me for no reason.

Literally for that WHOLE month, I was terrified. I had panic attacks and was anxious as hell. And I'll admit I was a little dependent on him, but I was still fucked from that experience.

Once we started talking again and boundaries set up. He SORT of apologized, but always insisted he was an awful friend, so I ended up having to comfort him instead. I always made excuses and everything for him, convinced that I was awful. And literally like,, there was no effort put in from his side after that. Aaaand then April 2019, I was suddenly messaged and blocked, and that was the last time we talked.

I was hurt obv but like. After that. I kept on being targeted by his adult friends (we were both 14, the friends were at LEAST 23+). Deadass I still don't know what the hell was said abt me but I KNOW it wasn't good. Bc before I knew it I had someone call me a pathetic bitch while I was having a panic attack over feeling guilty for shit I didn't do, then I was banned from like 3 system servers for "interacting inappropriately with a minor". Cue me literally being 14 at the time, a csa survivor, with no evidence even when I asked repeatedly for it, with literally no access to anyone younger than me bc of discords TOS.

The stress from that LITERALLY made us split several times and caused us to switch hosts. Sammy, the alter who was host at the time, is likely STILL dormant. All of that happened in practically the same year.

I'm still fucking baffled by it, angry, and hurt. It's been 4 damn years and I'm 90% sure he doesn't even remember us now.

Like,, christ I still can't interact with the undertale fandom for long bc it makes me remember him. I can't even look at art styles resembling his bc it makes me sick! I am TERRIFIED of venting bc I'm scared someone will lash out at me or accuse me of dumping all of my trauma on them. I'm scared I'm doing something wrong without knowing it and that tomorrow I'll wake up to having no friends bc they all blocked me.

Hell, I have issues trusting people who use the same name as him! I avoid a whole GROUP of people because I'm terrified they'll recognize me and start drama with false claims. Anyone who may have been so much as NEAR him I can't completely interact with besides a couple reblogs here and there.

And like,, I'm sure he's doing completely fine. That he's entirely unaware of the damage he caused. And, yeah, good for him, he's not suffering like I am. But also,, I'm painfully envious. I wish I was left pain free.

It's so stupid. It was 4 years ago. I really need to get over it.

[warriorwoman13]

My life has melted down completely. I lived in more than 18 different places from the ages of 5-18. I had very few friends. I didn’t date. I didn’t go to a prom. I didn’t graduate high school. I grew up in a house full of verbal, emotional, physical and sexual abuse. I was sexually abused/assaulted by 7 men by the time I was 17 years old. I was basically my own parent at the age of 14. I had no soft place to land or call home. No one to encourage me or protect me. I felt so tiny and insignificant growing up. I was so incredibly lonely. Like the world was so big and I didn’t matter. No one knew I even existed. No one cared. I was never enough. When I got married I thought that would change. It didn’t really. He would listen to me. But that’s about it. His mom was mean to me always. He never one time protected me from her disdain. She had the chance to love a young girl who had never really been loved but she chose to judge me instead.

My whole life I’ve had to fight. To prove I was enough, that I was worthy of being loved. I have rescued people (and animals) my whole life. I never wanted anyone to feel the way I felt. Discarded, lonely, unloved, worthless. I tried to save my sister many times before she died, at 17 borrowing a car and driving 8 hours to go rescue her when I found out she was a prostitute at 15. Adopting and raising her little girl as my own so she didn’t give her to the state of California as she was threatening to do. I tried to save my little brother in many ways too before he was killed by a gang member at the young age of 21. I tried to save my sister’s child, Andrew/AJ when he came out for my sister’s funeral and I found out the terrible conditions and life he was living - filing for custody immediately. I’ve helped and tried to save other family members (you know who you are) from addiction, health issues, grief. I’ve been there for each of my children through some incredibly hard situations that resulted because of generational trauma and addiction.

Most of the time I faced the darkest, hardest moments alone. Completely alone. The people I expected to be by my side weren’t. Always some excuse. I was always expected to show up for everyone and fit in the little box they made for me. They could all be as messy as they wanted but I had to put on a smile and figure everything out. Be strong. I never did it perfectly. I didn’t know how. I had no role models. There are no instructions for healing this kind of generational trauma. Did I make lots of mistakes? Yes. Did I get angry? Yes. Did I have every reason to? Yes. Did I always keep trying? Yes. Did I push myself to the point of exhaustion too many times? Yes. Do I wish I could go back and do so many things differently? Yes.

My husband never really invested in our family. He took a backseat. He had every advantage I didn’t. Two parents. Stable home. Family vacations. Graduated from college. Girlfriends. Dates. Proms. College. Masters. Great jobs. Great income. During our marriage I tried to save him too. Long talks- lots of encouraging. When he couldn’t write his dissertation for his Doctorate Degree at UT I said it’s ok we’ll figure it out. He lost jobs, had a very serious suicide attempt. Looking back, I didn’t know the whole story. He didn’t share everything. His dad’s motto was never volunteer information. He’s always had secrets. I always felt that in my soul. But I still stood by him. I didn’t know how to give up. Still trying to rescue him and prove I was worthy. Even after I found out about the pornography for the last time I arranged a little meeting for Sarah and I to help him with an important interview. I helped him find new jobs. I tried to talk to him, sent text messages, emails, called, arranged dates. BUT HE WAS NEVER HAPPY. He never had the courage to walk away or go after what he really wanted. So he strung his family along for decades while he lived a double life of pornography and god knows what else. Even after the betrayals and lies in the marriage, even after hurting our children doing all of this in front of the kids multiple times, even after he slinked away like a coward, even after ghosting me after 38 years together, even after he’s lost all the jobs and is in the process of ruining us financially, even after the emotional, psychological abuse and gaslighting, even after he accused me of being a bully and making choices our whole marriage without considering what he wanted - like he didn’t have a voice - like he’s not an adult - like no choice is a choice- like he’s not in charge of himself, even after forcing me to waste thousands of dollars I don’t have on attorney’s fees by not providing any documents as required by law for our temporary orders hearing on 4/17, even after making sure he found a way to stick me with most of our debt on my $20/hr salary, even though he continues to live in his dad’s condo on his dad’s dime at the age of sixty six - He still refuses to seek help for his addiction and continues to lie and say that he is getting help. He is a pitiful excuse for a human. But I won’t play his stupid game anymore. I’ve tried to hold this whole thing together. Stressing about how the house payment is going to get paid and a thousand other things every day. He doesn’t stress. He doesn’t try to heal his family. He calls me a narcissist- that’s fucking hilarious. I’m not going to try and keep everything together anymore. I’m going to take care of me. Period. I’m not sure yet exactly what that means but I know I can count on me and I’m gonna take the pressure off me and take it one day at a time.

I’ve put myself in this little jar and put it on a shelf for years waiting for everyone to be ok so I can take her out. I’ve been a good girl and played by the rules. Waiting for someone to love me, take care of me. The wait is over. TODAY I CHOOSE ME. The person I was trying to save this whole time was me. The truth is I can’t save anyone else. I will never again abandon myself. Today I will start showing up for me. I am taking a journey. I was led to believe it was my job to take care of everyone else. It’s my job to take care of me. My kids are grown now. And now I get to give them the greatest gift of all. What it really looks like to heal and truly love yourself. I look back on my journey and I’m so damn amazed at myself. I am so freaking strong and resilient. I’ve been so worried that I’ve only taught my children bad things. But I know now that isn’t true. I’ve stood in the face of hundreds of trials over my life. I’ve lived things most people can’t even imagine but I am here and I still choose to love people. I am so grateful for the family and friends who do truly love me and are part of my life - I wouldn’t be here without you. I am so excited about what’s to come. I feel more free than I’ve ever felt in my life. And today I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks anymore. I care what I think. This is my life. I CHOOSE ME ❤️

[deertaz]

I'm Back

This account was something I made when I was 14 and in a very bleak time of my life. I have deleted most of my old posts, not only because I wish to forget that time, but also because as an adult, I now understand how venting towards a public space can validate and enable the self-harmful behaviours of other people.

Luckily this account got nothing more that a few notes, with a handful of people looking at what I posted. But, I would like to apologise to anybody who saw my posts and were triggered by it.

I never participated in any group chats or messages encouraging my or the EDs of others. Even then, I saw the danger of such things. However, through sharing my experiences and harmful thoughts in visceral detail, I may have contributed to the validation of others as mentally damaged as I was at the time. Again, I am lucky that next to nobody saw this account.

So, take this as a reintroduction of myself;

Hi, I'm 'Taz', I'm 19. I'm in Uni right now with a freelance job. I love dressing in alternative 'gothic' styles, listening to emo, metal, goth and alternative music. I've experienced a lot since I've been gone, and have been incredibly lucky over the past 3-4 years since my departure.

I have gained lifelong friends who truly value me for the person I am. I graduated high school at 16 and, since then, have found a confidence in myself that I never knew I had. I am capable, thriving and happy with myself and the things I have accomplished so far. I spoke in front of a crowd of 200 last year, and realised how the only thing holding me back is myself.

I no longer feel ashamed about my interests, nor my appearance. I don't hide my love for childish and nerdy things. I'm just a bit odd, but standing out both appearance-wise and personality-wise have turned out to be an asset. It has drawn the most remarkable and kind people to me. I met my platonic soulmate, who has been my best friend for 3 years.

And yes, I have not been friends with that girl I ranted about in 2019 for over 4 years (left the post up since I believe it isn't harmful). What she said and did to me wasn't okay, I'm proud of myself for finally being able to cut her out of my life. I was a very insecure lonely person, who didn't understand how friends should treat you. I never had friends as a child, since I was considered weird. So joining high school (I was 11, UK) made me try to change myself, I was quiet and agreeable. When she offered me friendship I was very happy, but did not have the self confidence nor the wisdom to realise that she was treating me horribly. I understand now, and am quite a lot better with setting boundaries.

I have had two partners, and one on and off situationship thing (lol). I'm not a lesbian, I'm Bi with a preference for women. My parents know. I have a 17 year old brother who I love to pieces, every day I am taken a-back by how much I get on with him. I value our closeness and am very grateful that he's in my life.

My relationship with my mother has been rocky at times, especially from 10-16. But I no longer live at home, so my interactions with her have improved a lot. I love her, she is a kind person, though very temperamental. She is also no longer bedridden!

I am now 19, I am older. I am much better at handling her outbursts. I stand up for myself without shouting back. I realised the best way to respond to her is either by removing myself, or by asking her questions, 'did you take your meds today?', 'why do you think you are angry?', 'Does this warrant shouting?'.

My favourite thing to say is, 'I love you mum, but I hate how you are acting right now.'

It shows to her that I love her, what I'm saying isn't an attack on her character, but on her current actions. It's a pretty good way of letting her know (I think).

Anyways, rant over (for now). For anybody still struggling with an ED, please seek comfort in others. Tell somebody. It's a slow recovery, and you might relapse a few times before it gets better. But it does get better. For anybody still in those awful teen years, it's a shitty waiting game but the end post is in sight, and it's a path to something far brighter.

-Taz

[bookofjudith]

hello! as you might have noticed I orphaned all of my works!

this was entirely an accident. I am still very much active on AO3 and tumblr, and did not mean to dissociate myself from ANY of my ATLA works, if you’re coming from those! All of my ATLA works have been reposted onto my AO3 account and can be found below, as well! This sucks, but there isn’t anything I can do about it, unfortunately! So, I just ask that if you’re reccing any of my works, to double check that you’re sending people to the version that says “aeoleus”, instead of “orphan_account”. Thank you so much, and I’m so sorry for the inconvenience!

A Hundred Golden Suns

Ch 14/14 - COMPLETE

Zuko does not survive that first fateful Agni Kai.

But no matter how much Ozai strives to pretend otherwise, the Old Gods are not dead.

And the Old Gods are angry.

a cardinal hits the window

COMPLETE

The beginning of the end, though Sokka doesn't recognize it at the time, comes in the form of a text message.

Yue 🌙 at 2:41 PM i need u to help me dye my hair

what is that song you sing for the dead?

COMPLETE

(“You know,” Sokka starts. “Your dad told me I should talk to you. I feel like such a fucking asshole. Your dad- he lost your mom, and then he lost you, and he’s still giving me advice on how to deal with it.”

The moon doesn’t respond.)

Or: the beginnings of recovery.

how to disappear completely

COMPLETE

(And Zuko wants to laugh, he does, because he’s twenty-one, and he's the guardian of a five-year-old sister he didn’t even know existed until his mother died in a car crash, and he's legally responsible for his nineteen-year-old sister who’s been admitted for almost a year of her short life, and rent is due, and his temp job doesn’t pay nearly enough, and he wishes he had someone to help, but he has no clue where Uncle is, and no other adult has ever cared enough to help, and he’s tired.

He’s just so, so, tired.)

here, at the end of all things

COMPLETE

There are two options here, Sokka thinks, hanging half off the airship with a broken leg, firebenders surrounding them, Toph slipping through his hands.

To allow Toph to feel what his mother felt in her last moments, or to let his grip slide, and allow her to fall.

In the end, it’s not even a choice.

turn your face towards the sun

COMPLETE

Not for the first time, Suki desperately wished she had Aang’s ability to talk to the past Avatars. What would Kyoshi think of her? Would she see the weariness that settled deep into her bones, the static that crested over her brain, and scoff? Think she was weak, childish?

Or would she understand the guilt that settled like a rock in her stomach and remained there; the way sleeping on a soft mattress, eating a homecooked meal, laughing, feeling safe, felt like betrayal?)

An Ember Island interlude, featuring the beach, a bottle of sake, and three teenagers with the world on their shoulders and terrible decision-making skills.

(some day, I pray,) I’ll be more than my father’s son

COMPLETE

Zuko is seventeen years old when he stares at himself in the mirror and sees his father staring back at him.

Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry

COMPLETE

(“You’re not sleeping,” Mai says softly. “How’d you know?” Zuko asks.

To be honest, he’s kind of gotten to the point where he’s surprised that anyone can perceive him outside of his necessary functions- he exists solely to sit in council meetings and shoulder the blame for genocides and famines and the suffering of one-hundred years. Doesn’t he?)

The war is over, but the fallout is just beginning. And where lightning strikes, thunder is bound to follow.

what did you sing to that lonely child?

COMPLETE

“So, to put this together,” Toph says to Aang in a highly-measured tone that she didn’t know she even had the capacity for. “You were sparring, you had Zuko on the ground, and you held flames close to his, you know, scarred face?”

put the weight on me

COMPLETE

“I think he’s sick.” Bato says flatly. “So unless you want the next meeting to include the Fire Lord puking all over the budget scrolls, maybe see if he's okay?”

Hakoda glances up the hallway, like perhaps Katara will appear and take over dealing with the prickly teenager. Of course, his daughter is off treating injured refugees with the Avatar, and Bato is still staring at him expectantly, arms crossed.

“Fine,” He sighs, and he claps Bato on the cheek before heading into the room.

Or: Zuko falls ill not long after Ozai's defeat. Hakoda sits with him and learns some unpleasant truths about his childhood.

the sins of the father

COMPLETE

Iroh often wonders how a child raised as Zuko was- in pain and rage and cold indifference- could turn out the way he did- kind and gentle and just.

Iroh often discounts himself.

Or: how Zuko came to realize that a father’s love shouldn’t need to be earned.

brave little soldier boy

COMPLETE

“Let the children sleep,” Iroh says softly to Hakoda. “And let us carry the weight of the world for a while.”

Or: the night after Ozai’s defeat

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again, Chapter 9: More Than Anyone Else

Summary: After an intense fight and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Betas: @fanboyswhereare-you and @girl-tips-from-satan

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Then Again, Chapter 9: More Than Anyone Else

(Word count: 1,881)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29,

As the millionth text from Ned buzzes my phone, I consider chucking it off the roof. Maybe myself with it.

It only took an episode of yelling with Y/N and a door slam for him to finally answer me back, as if the five minutes of me pounding on his and MJ’s door earlier hadn’t been a concern of his. Now, given the timing, I’ve decided to respond with his own stubbornness and refuse to even open the messages. I can guess what they say. Probably what Aunt May said when she called forty minutes ago.

Something like: Maybe it’s time to be straightforward and tell her. What’s the worst that could happen? It has to be better than how you’ve left it. As long as you handle this properly, I think the Peter Parker Gets a Girlfriend initiative is still in the running!

I know I’m not handling this well. I know it’s bad. I know. I mean, it’s kind of impossible to feel how I feel about her and not understand that I’ve probably — definitely — blown all my chances at this point. I wish Aunt May understood that. Trying to explain what it was like back there, how bad I made it, how angry we both were… all it did was make me want to throw up. And Aunt May didn’t exactly listen, really listen, to that part anyway. If I hadn’t gotten choked up, she probably would have called Y/N herself. I’ve never been so relieved to start crying while talking to someone. At least she’s backing off. For tonight, that is.

I can’t stop thinking about how it happened. It was so fast. Even though I knew it was building up all week, I had no idea I would snap like that— and especially at first, I really didn’t mean to.

I mean, it’s been hard keeping everything in. Aunt May and Ned have been putting so much pressure on me to “tell her how I feel” lately and then she was just so happy the last few days that every time I was around her, which was constantly with all of our studying, I kept finding myself balanced between wanting to burst out and finally tell her, consequences be damned, or else call Happy and see if Mr. Stark had any potentially lethal missions available. Instead, I kept my mouth firmly shut and avoided eye contact with her and Aunt May. After this morning with Flash, last night with Flash, the thought of her kissing Flash (even at six years old, which, I know, is so stupid to be upset over, but like… it’s Flash, who’s literally never not tormented me when given the opportunity) and all the private texting between everyone, the pool was the last straw.

I tried to get out of it earlier. Maybe I should’ve. But Y/N asked me if I was coming in a voice that warned me something was off, so I went. I didn’t want to be there. But I wasworried she might need someone. (Ironic, given how I behaved in the end. God, I’ve been such an ass.)

Plus, after she hugged me and ran off, things got really weird. I knew why she did it, even if Aunt May keeps denying any involvement. It’s awkward to imagine what Aunt May must have said to her to make her do it. She obviously didn’t want to. Not to mention, I knew I got her stuck outside with Flash when Aunt May called again.

In my defense, I really thought Ned and MJ would let her in the other room.

Anyway, the point is: things have never been more unclear with Y/N than they were an hour ago. I’ve been so worried about letting myself get too excited around her that I’ve probably been leaning too far into reasons to be upset with her (Ned thinks it’s some “self-preservation” thing, and I’m starting to agree). I must have been coming across as a rude asshole all week. If Aunt May and Ned have been trying to push her towards me, it must have been super confusing for her, it probably made my behavior even worse.

All that aside, it still doesn’t make any sense why she would try to get me to play that game in the pool.

With Abe it was easy. We were just pretending, like acting punches, pretend shoves. She knows that if I really hit someone it could go seriously wrong. I can’t risk it. I would never risk it with any of my friends, not ever, even if it’s a game. So when she started getting angry, I figured it was just a way to get angry with me like I’d been doing with her. Do something! I can still hear her saying it. I just don’t understand what she wanted me to do, though.

The more she said it, the more I worried she was hinting at something bigger. Was she trying to poke me into letting some Spidey secret out? I’ve never suspected that type of motive from her, but why else mock me with something she knows I can’t do because of it? Could it really have slipped her mind? She’s always on top of everything. It doesn’t exactly seem like something she’d forget.

I guess— no, I know— I let fear get the best of me. I should never have shouted or gotten angry or splashed her like I did. It doesn’t matter if I’ve been a nervous wreck around her or scared of everything I’ve been feeling or frustrated that she invited Flash to the dinner or even panicked about her practically yelling a phrase I didn’t understand. I should have kept my temper and waited to talk to her later, like she said.

That’s the shittiest part. More than anyone else, she’s the person I wish I could talk to most about, well, everything. But I can’t.

I’m torn in two parts right now and neither of them is concerned with securing her as my girlfriend. (I know that isn’t how Ned and Aunt May meant it, but “winning the game” or “accomplishing the mission” is not even on my radar at the moment.) First, I’m still frustrated. Not angry, at least, but everything we talked— well, yelled— about didn’t just dissolve. It’s still in my head, even if I’m trying to erase it. Second, all I want to do is go back and apologize like an idiot. Even if we’re fighting, I don’t want to make her feel bad about anything. I want to go make sure she’s alright. All I wanted in the first place was to finally hear the truth about her and MJ, to get through to her about Flash, and to just… feel like I’m a real part of her life. Even if not in the way I want.

I don’t think I accomplished much in the way of those three things, but then again, I’m still reeling. There’s so much to go over. My brain’s on overload.

I need to think this out.

I need to be rational.

Okay.

First: She said she and MJ aren’t dating. Ned and Aunt May always thought I was looking too far into little things when I brought this up. Maybe they were right. She did seem seriously surprised. Why deny it when confronted? And why else would MJ have been texting me today, hinting that she knew I liked her? If they were dating and Aunt May or Ned told her, wouldn’t she have gotten upset about it and said something to my face? It made me paranoid today that she was playing with me, but now the tone of her messages doesn’t seem threatening like it did before. It seems… curious, if not supportive. I… I guess that part is settled. Y/N did say, I’m not dating my best friend.

Did she mean none of her best friends, though? Like, ever? It felt coded. It felt like shit. I know I don’t have a chance in the first place, but it still stung like a slap to the face.

That phrase keeps playing in my head.

I’m not dating my best friend!

I need to stop thinking about it.

Second: Flash. That hasn’t moved anywhere. He’s still a dick and she’s still too forgiving with him. Thank god she doesn’t like him, at least. But the other things she said when I brought him up are definitely significant. What did she mean about Liz? Liz doesn’t have disagreements with many people and if they didn’t like each other, I certainly never noticed. But she said that too: I never noticed it. I’ll ask her about that later. Not too soon, definitely not tonight, but when — if — things get better.

There’s something more important to focus on.

She thinks about me. All the time. I can’t dwell too much on this. I know it doesn’t mean what I want it to mean, but it is meaningful in a thousand other ways.

She cares. She worries. She waits. She thinks about me. She really, genuinely, seriously cares about me. And she thinks about me, all the time.

How many times has she thought of me while I was thinking of her?

This thought is too dizzying. My legs feel like they might fold in.

I wind my towel up and put it behind my head to lie on it like a pillow.

I picture her walking home from school and sending me a text, thinking of me. All the while, I’m on the opposite side of Queens assuming her message is just a usual kindness, something she would do for anybody.

I think about you all the time, more than anyone else.

I nearly fainted when she said that, I swear.

So third: I am a real part of her life — proven by what she said. I think that’s enough. Knowing she genuinely, seriously cares is enough. I’d rather she thought of me in a more positive way, but if worrying reflects any sort of dedication to our friendship, that’s plenty. Though I will, from now on, respond to her messages immediately, even if it makes me feel desperate and lame, just to make sure she isn’t stressed out anymore. She worries about me.

Conclusions combined, I have no idea how I feel. I was so angry today. Flash’s stunt, the fact I thought she actually wanted to defend him, thinking she and MJ were in a secret relationship, the pressure Aunt May and Ned have been putting on me this week, especially since that hug thing… overall, the entire idea of their “mission.” (Honestly, calling it a mission did not make it any more appealing, despite what they may have hoped.)

It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m on unstable ground, but at least I know that when I go back to the room, I won’t feel claustrophobic, like I can’t get enough air. I’ve got fear to spare in gallons, but there’s hope mixed in too. I can fix this.

It’ll be okay. I can do this. I’m Spider-Man, for fuck’s sake.

I just need… a few minutes longer to get my head together.

Holy shit.

Next chapter

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[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, part 14

Aaaaaaannnnnnd we're done! I literally decided on this ending today and I'm posting it before I start to get THE DOUBTS. I hope you enjoy it and thank you so, so, so much to everyone who's liked/ commented/ messaged along the way.

There's mention in here of an interview that did actually happen a couple of days ago and what's included is pretty much what I've read online. That said, I've embellished some for the purpose of the story, so I'm not claiming to know anything.

Previous sections are on the Master List.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC x Jay White

Word count: 2,767

Content advisory: other than the usual language, nothing really. Should I be cautioning people about angstiness? Because there's angst.

Thought you should see this.

The toneless message with its link is ruining your day. You can’t stop looking at it, but you don’t want to open the link again because you don’t want David to see it. Not that you have any reason to feel guilty. If anything, he’s the one who has some explaining to do but he also has the biggest match of his life tonight, the one where he can finally put the years of tension and rivalry with Jay behind him. You want to be supportive but you also want some answers.

It can wait, you tell yourself for the hundredth time. You’ll talk about it tomorrow. Or next week. All the time in the world. At least, that’s what you hope.

The whole day, the two of you are together but you have to keep a little bit of distance. Don’t want to get distracted and he has to conserve all the energy he can. Doesn’t stop you from touching each other, of course, but even when you do, it feels like you’re still at a distance. He’s trying not to think about anything except tonight. Or maybe it just looks that way. Maybe he’s thinking about his future beyond tonight, when he moves on. It would be nice to know if he wanted you to move on with him but he’s not letting you in on his plans. Hell, if it were up to him, you wouldn’t even know that there were plans.

You’d expected Jay to have some sort of mocking comments. How come the boyfriend you’re so in love with is giving interviews talking about signing with another company, moving to another state, changing everything about his life, and you don’t know anything about it? How Jay had looked at that interview and immediately known that you weren’t aware of it is beyond you. It’s unnerving sometimes, his ability to figure things out when it comes to you. You suppose it’s one of the reasons he’s always been able to get under your skin and make you do what he wants.

But aside from the initial message, he doesn’t say anything. You think that maybe it was a ploy to see if you’d confront David and start a fight before their match, because that’s exactly the kind of ugly trick Jay loves. When you arrive at the venue, though, you see him getting out of a car at the same time. He doesn’t look scornful, doesn’t shout something insulting, doesn’t strut like a damn peacock in mating season, nothing that you would normally expect from him. He looks straight at you and doesn’t smirk or sneer. On anyone other than Jay White, the look might be interpreted as concern.

Technically, you’re supposed to be there for all the performers but at this point, there’s very little left for you to do. It’s all on them now and if everything turns out to be a garbage fire, it won’t be because of any failings on your part. So you do your rounds to make sure everyone has what they need, knows their cues, gets any questions answered. But you always circle back to where David is and stay for as long as you can before your nerves get the better of you.

And then there’s the one person you should check on, but don’t. You aren’t completely derelict. You check with the people he has around him, you even lower yourself to telling Chris Bey that he can text you if his majesty needs anything. Strangely, you don’t hear anything. You text Jay once to say that you’re available to help. You keep it professional and don’t mention anything about the link he sent earlier, so you’re expecting him to needle you about it, or at least act like you’re useless because you aren’t spending your entire day catering to him. Nothing. You’re almost tempted to go check to make sure he’s not sick because one thing Jay White has never been is one to stay quiet when something is bothering him. Maybe he feels sorry for you, in which case you’d rather he yelled.

You enjoy as much of the show as you can but you spend the last minutes before his match with David, largely quiet, just holding each other’s hands. You walk as far as you can with him and, as his music hits, squeeze his hand extra tight. He turns and gives you a soft, quick kiss before leaning back and doing it again, deeper.

“I love you,” he says, cupping your face in his hand.

“I love you too.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of something. You sound like you’re calling after a train that’s already left the station.

Against your better judgment, you stay where you are. Jay arrives, already acting his part, hands tapping idly on the belt that, in theory, is the reason they’re fighting. You stare at him waiting for him to acknowledge you but there’s nothing. His music swells and he heads out like you’re not even there.

“Just like old times,” you mutter to yourself.

And still.

You watch from backstage as Jay holds his belt up, grinning and preening like he never had a moment’s doubt. You know him well enough to know that’s not true. He keeps cutting looks back at David as if he’s expecting to have to defend himself again, as if he doesn’t believe that he’s truly vanquished him.

The audience doesn’t share his insecurity, cheering him on like he was the hero and David the villain. He’s obnoxious and self-centred but they love him anyway. It makes you feel a little less stupid for the years you’d spent doing the same.

A couple of assistants help David backstage, holding ice to his neck and making sure he doesn’t collapse on the way to the locker room. He looks angry, sullen, and bitter, but not injured, which is a relief. You turn away from the scene in the ring and follow him back to his dressing room, taking over from the dojo students on ice duty when you get there. You don’t speak. You figure it’s better to let him decide when he’s ready.

You’d love to, of course, because despite the fact that you don’t want to make his night worse, it’s becoming unbearable to keep everything inside.

“Where does it hurt?” you ask quietly, picking up a new cold pack.

“Everywhere,” he mumbles.

You hold the ice against his lower back, remembering the awful hit he’d taken on the ring apron.

“You looked great out there.”

“Didn’t feel so great.” He gives you a little smile. “Onward and upward, right?”

“Or southward?” You don’t even mean to say it out loud because this is absolutely not the time to bring it up and certainly not in this passive aggressive way.

“Southward?” He raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about but you can see immediately that he does.

“Nothing, it’s ok.”

He sighs. “What’s southward?”

“Do you need another ice pack?”

“Uh oh, sounds like someone’s been reading the dirt sheets.”

“Just making a joke.” You wish you hadn’t brought this up because now you have to try to cram it back into its hiding space in your brain. And you have to suppress the fact that you’re actually kind of angry.

He watches you, trying to gage your state of mind. “Shouldn’t listen to idle gossip.”

That hits like a slap across the face.

“It’s not gossip, David. You did an interview with Wrestling Observer. If people are speculating or have questions, it’s because of what you said yourself.”

“It’s just talking. I didn’t confirm anything.”

He seems a little proud of this, like he’s very clever for getting people talking about what they don’t know. He doesn’t seem to have an issue with the fact that you’re one of those people.

“It’s all there, though,” you murmur. “Talking about how much you want to work in the States, that you want to try somewhere new, that you’re moving to Florida. You’re going to NXT, right?”

He shrugs and avoids your eyes.

“Were you ever going to tell me about any of this or did you figure I’d be able to piece together where you’d gone from news clippings and Reddit posts?”

“Of course I was going to talk to you. Nothing’s final yet.”

“So you were waiting until you bought a house in Florida and signed a contract with another company? Then what? You’d wake me up one morning and just say ‘bye babe, I’ll be living in another state from now on?’”

“The opportunity came up. This,” he gestures to the two of you, “is still really new. I didn’t want to introduce all these complications.”

“David, I’m not some girl you picked up in a bar. We’ve known each other for years. You’ve talked to me before about your contract renewals. Seems like you could have told me something.”

“I was going to tell you something. When I had a better idea of what I wanted to do.”

“You told a journalist, a ‘dirt sheet’ in your own words, that you’re in the process of moving to Florida. That seems like you have a pretty clear idea.”

“Ok, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out. You don’t even read that stuff normally.”

“You’re aware people are talking about this on social media, right?”

He grunts but doesn’t say anything more. It’s infuriating. He looks resentful that he has to explain himself, like he didn’t think this was going to be an issue for you. Finally, he meets your eyes, guilt very clearly evident now.

“I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I’m an idiot, I could have figured out that you’d see something, or that someone would tell you.”

“It is my job to know stuff like this, all other considerations aside.”

“Believe me, I did not want you getting this from some random dweeb on Twitter.”

“I wish it had been a random dweeb on Twitter.”

He looks surprised and then it’s like part of him collapses when he realizes what you mean.

“Got up this morning to a one line text and a link to the article from our old pal. You know, making sure I’m not out of the loop.”

“Asshole.”

“In this case no. Somehow, you managed to cede the high moral ground to a man whose morals are generally nonexistent.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Well, this is hardly the ideal moment to have this conversation, but I want to know if and how you see me fitting into this new life you’re going to have.”

He shrugs a little. “How do you want to fit in?”

The realization hits you hard. “You don’t think this is going to last, do you? You didn’t think I was serious.”

“Wanting is a lot easier than having.”

“Maybe for you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just that I… You’re right. I didn’t think I needed to consider you. It wasn’t part of my decision-making process.”

“You’ve been setting this up for weeks. All this has come together at the same time you’ve been with me almost every day. If I wasn’t part of your process, that was the decision right there.”

The two of you stare each other down but there seems to be nothing left to say.

Eventually, you rise to your feet and stammer, “I’m just going to… I need to take a walk or something.”

You wander around the place, watching the crew rushing to pack up. Eventually, you find yourself outside, where the ring still stands, bathed in the glow of the safety lights. It seems forlorn in front of the empty seats but there is still a kind of magic about it. That’s what draws people to this business, you suppose, the feeling of magic.

Since no one else is around, you climb up and through the ropes, kicking off your shoes. You’ve been in one before, but always just to set it up or break it down. You’ve never had an in-ring moment. And there’s a reason for that, which is that you can barely wrestle your way out of your winter coat. But as long as you’re here and you need to do something to take your mind off the sensation that your chest is about to rip.

You run, or jog, from one side to the other, bouncing off the ropes as you do, the way you’ve watched dozens of men doing for years. Although you know the “ropes” are actually steel cables with a plastic coating and you’ve handled them before, it surprises you how much it hurts when you hit them too hard. It’s not the worst pain you have right now.

You pick up speed a little and then practice letting yourself “bump”, a fancy way of saying fall flat on your back. Each time, you knock the wind out of yourself a little but you get right back up and continue your running. Finally, you have enough momentum that you’re able to just roll yourself into a somersault, and sure, it’s not the most perfectly executed thing, but you keep your body straight and you pop right back up. Just like a pro.

“Ta-da!” you say to yourself.

That’s when the tears come. It’s not falling to pieces, but the stew of emotions inside you just starts to leak out. What the hell do you do now?

There are some footsteps behind you, echoing a little in the empty arena, and you see a man’s approaching shadow loom behind you, pushing his long hair back from his face as he crouches down. So you’re not startled when a thick pair of arms wraps around you and you feel his face pressed against your neck.

“Come home.”

You give an unhappy laugh. “Home is kind of a weird concept right now, Jay.”

“You’re always home for me. I guess I was hoping you felt the same way.”

You snap your head to look at him, pulling back enough so that you can focus on his eyes. In all the time you’ve known him, you don’t think he’s ever looked as calm as he does in this moment.

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Yeah, I get to be a target for a while longer.”

“Stop pretending you don’t love it.”

“Sure, I love it. It’s nice. There are other things I love more.” He runs his fingers over your cheeks, cleaning away the remains of your tears. “I’m sorry about sending you that story earlier.”

“All the shit you’ve pulled over the years and that’s the thing you apologize for?”

“Oh I meant I’m sorry that I had to be the one to send it. I don’t want you to shoot the messenger or anything.”

“If I haven’t shot you by now, I think you’re safe.”

He laughs and pulls you back against his chest, kissing down your cheek and neck. Then he stands, pulling you right up with him and letting his lips trail over the crown of your head.

“Come on.” he whispers, taking your hand.

“Wait, I need my shoes.”

You dart over to pick them up and he’s right there to help you into them and to lead you through the ropes and down the stairs. That’s when he plants his lips on yours, firmly, so that you can feel it in your knees.

“I need to go get my suitcase inside.”

“Do you always carry everything with you wherever you go?”

“I’m headed straight to the airport from here. Catching a red eye back.”

“Skip it. Leave tomorrow.”

“Just like that?”

“Sure. I have a really nice room.”

“I know you do, I booked it.”

“Always taking care of me, aren’t you?”

“Oh wow, he noticed.”

He kisses you again, a little longer, digging his fingers into your back, and your body melts against him of its own volition.

“I’m not coming back if everything is just going to go back to the way it was, Jay.”

“I didn’t come running after you because you’re good at managing my schedule.”

You give him a sceptical look but you can't entirely keep from smiling.

“Look at me,” he grins, “I’m a god. Any woman would want me and you have me. You should feel like you won the lottery.”

“Yeah,” you drawl, letting him wrap an arm around you as you walk away together, “I won.”

[blacklilyqueen]

Maybe tomorrow

Summary: Rex and Ahsoka both worry about each other after the war and desperately hope for a sign to know that the other is still alive.

Pairing: Rexsoka

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1849

Note: Based on this comic by @luoiae​

"Any news from Ahsoka, Wolffe?" "No."

Part of him had expected that answer, yet he hoped for some news from her. It didn't have to be much. Just a small token to let him know she was okay, that she was safe, that she was alive.

Rex hadn't heard from her since their escape a few months ago. At first, he thought she was just trying to maintain a low profile. Messages could be intercepted and right now it was important that he, and especially she, stayed out of sight. And even though that thought was somewhat comforting, he always wondered if something bad had happened to her.

He wished he could have contacted her, but for their safety, they both thought it would be the best if he didn't know her exact location. His days were filled with as many chores as possible, hoping it might distract him from his worries. But every night, when he closed his eyes and nothing else remained to occupy him, he would see her in front of him. Sometimes everything was peaceful. She just stood there looking at him with that beautiful smile. Her eyes shone with joy and it was as if nothing could destroy that moment.

However, there were other nights. Nights when he woke up from sleep with his eyes wide open and his heart racing. His mind plagued by images of Ahsoka, covered in blood and in captivity. He saw the Emperor’s Inquisitors torturing her. Heard her screams. Had to watch her die slowly but surely. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He had such a dream that night and like every time he had hoped for a message from her to make sure she was alright. Almost every day he asked Wolffe if he had heard from her and day after day he was disappointed. He left the former clone commander behind and returned to his daily distractions.

Maybe tomorrow he would hear from her.

 "Hey, Rex. I hope you're all safe."

Although there were a thousand things she wanted to say to him and tell him about, that was all she said. For months she had tried to contact him over and over again, but he never answered any of her transmissions. So it happened that she didn't produce more than that one sentence, because at that moment all the other things didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that he was safe.

More and more often she caught herself worrying about him. What if the Empire found out he was alive? What if they knew he had helped her escape? It would be his death sentence.

But maybe he just cared about her and was afraid to answer her. Over the past few months, she had increasingly tried to convinced herself that it must be because of that. Although this thought gave her a little comfort, she still wanted certainty.

Maybe he would answer tomorrow.

 "She still hasn't...?" "No."

"I see," the words hardly seemed to leave his mouth. He stood with his back to Wolffe and now turned his head away again. His muscles tensed a little at Wolffe's answer and his fingernails dug into his palm even though he didn't realize it. He was about to leave when Wolffe said something else:

"She's not dead. If she were, we'd know it. The Empire tends to make a big spectacle out of the death of a Jedi."

Rex knew he was right. He also knew Wolffe only meant well, yet it was anything but reassuring. The thought of Ahsoka's death plagued him enough as it was, now saying it out loud didn't make it any better. Three years was an extremely long time when you don’t know if the other person is still alive or not. He fervently hoped so, but his doubts grew with each passing day.

He turned his head once again in his brother's direction and gave him a small nod. He didn’t have enough strength for more. He left the room and went to the small cabin that the three clones shared for sleeping. Since Gregor was exploring, Rex had a moment of peace to himself. The door closed and so did Rex's eyes. He took one deep breath and as he exhaled, he slammed his hand, still clenched into a fist, against the wall next to him with all his strength.

He ignored the pain in his hand as his knees gave way and he slowly went down. His back was now leaning against the wall he had just punched. He angled his legs, propped his elbows on his thighs and buried his face in his hands. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as his heart seemed to contract further and further. When he lifted his face, he ran his right hand over his short hair, trying to get his breathing back to normal.

She's not dead. She is not dead. She is not dead.

Over and over again he repeated the words in his head. As his whole body focused on that thought, he slowly calmed down. His breathing was back to normal, the pain in his chest lessened, and his muscles began to relax.

She’d contact him tomorrow.

Yes, he was sure she would. Wolffe was right. If she were dead, he would know. He shouldn't worry. Soon he would hear her voice again, assuring him that she was alive. He tried to hold on to that thought, but part of his mind wouldn't give him that peace, and so a second thought mixed in.

There are things much worse than death.

No. She was fine. She would call tomorrow. She had to call tomorrow. Because he didn't know what to do if she wouldn’t.

 "It's been a while. I hope you're okay."

Even Ahsoka could hear how weak her voice sounded. It had been too long since she had last seen Rex. Her mind kept wandering back to that day. She shouldn't have left him. She should have stayed. Every time she left, she lost the people who mattered most to her. It was like she was abandoning everyone she cared about.

Rex, Anakin, Obi Wan, the 501st, the Order, she had abandoned them all more than once and she had lost them all. But this time there was no going back. The Jedi Order was past, Anakin and Obi Wan were dead, only Rex was left. At least, that's what she hoped. She couldn't possibly admit to herself that the last person who represented a connection to her former life had just disappeared like that.

Again and again she thought about flying to him to make sure he was okay. But she could not risk putting him in danger. No matter if someone followed her or if they clashed with the Empire on the ground, she could not let him die because of her. And he would if they were seen together.

"Please contact me. Please. Please. Please."

The connection had been broken for a long time, so she spoke only to herself. He would get back to her tomorrow. She clung to that thought as tightly as she could. Yes, he most certainly would.

“…” “Still nothing.”

He didn't even have to say anything anymore. It had been 14 years, and yet Rex asked the same question every day. There was a time when the uncertainty had made him angry, but not anymore. Where anger used to be there was now a great emptiness now. He had grown accustomed to taking no for an answer. When you expected nothing, you couldn't be disappointed, but hopelessness hurt just as much and Rex couldn't tell which pain was worse.

For a time he thought it would be the best to accept that she was dead. If it were true, he wouldn't have to worry every day about the unknown. And if it were false, he would be even more relieved should she come to him after all. But he was so wrong. Day after day he had reproached himself for declaring her dead just like that. How could he ever look her in the eye and tell her that he had simply given up on her? He couldn't do that to her and he couldn't do that to himself.

So every day he lived with the pain of hope that would probably never be fulfilled. And with each passing day, that hope dwindled bit by bit. He could never bring himself to fully acknowledge her death, but he knew that he would probably never hear her voice again, never see her face again, and never touch her body again.

Despite the daily disappointment, a part of him whispered to him, as it had every day for the past 14 years: maybe tomorrow.

 "I hope you're still alive."

Ahsoka tried to suppress the tremor in her voice. But it didn't help and she felt her voice break on the last word. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and clouded her vision.

All these years she had convinced herself that there must have been a reasonable reason why he didn't answer. Had convinced herself that he must still be alive, but now she was no longer sure. The horrible truth she had recently learned made her doubt his safety.

The feeling of Anakin's presence in the Force surrounded by icy coldness, which held him captive and had completely taken possession of him, wouldn’t let go of her. She did not want to believe it, but it had to be true. Anakin was Vader, and once she admitted that to herself, all her hopes that her old friends were still alive were dashed.

She knew how obsessed Anakin could be, and if he really had turned to the Dark Side, he certainly wouldn't let up in pursuit of his goals. If he knew Rex was still alive and that he had helped her escape, that he had disobeyed the Order 66 and sided with the Jedi, Vader would kill him without hesitation.

The only thing that gave her a little hope was that her old master had thought her dead, and hopefully the same was true for Rex. He certainly wouldn't have wasted time looking for a single clone who was presumed dead. But if Vader had even the slightest suspicion that one of them might still be alive and rebelling against him and the Empire, it would have been a sure death sentence.

But if Vader had really found Rex and learned that his inhibitor chip had been removed, he would have expected Ahsoka to still be alive. Yes, that's how it had to be. So Vader couldn't have known about Rex. Normally this should be good news, but even without the danger from Vader, there were a thousand other things that could have killed Rex. But she didn't want to think about that. Kanan, Ezra and the others would surely find him soon and then they would meet again.

But a small voice in her head whispered: Maybe tomorrow…but maybe never.

[ailuronymy]

I doubt you'll remember this, because it happened such a long time ago, but it's been bothering me for years now and I wanted to get some closure on it. Many years ago, when I was 14, pretty new to roleplaying and completely new to Tumblr, I sent you an anonymous ask laughing about ridiculous unrealistic things that people were having their cats do in a roleplay I was in. Building blanket forts, among other things, and being transgender. At this point in my life I thought transgender only meant someone who had undergone gender affirmation surgery, and the idea of cats doing surgery on one another was hilarious to me. I shared it with the hope that other people would find it hilarious too. Instead, you told me that I had said The Wrong Thing and called me a bigot. I was confused, I was horrified, I didn't understand at all, and I more or less fled from tumblr for about two years. It was a formative experience for me.

Hello there. I do actually remember that post, although obviously since you were anon then as well, I didn’t remember you specifically. But I do remember. 

I thought about how to answer this ask for a few days. I’m not sure exactly what it is you’re looking for from me, but I’m going to give you the best reply I can and I hope that’s good enough for the both of us. 

When you wrote in to me, about eight years ago, I was younger than you are now. I was nineteen and I’d only been on tumblr for a bit over a year at that point, I think. I’d never had social media before, of any kind. It was all pretty new to me as an experience too, and I’d never expected this blog to get the attention that it did. I never even imagined that was a possibility. But it happened and I learned how to run a relatively popular ask blog on the job, as it were. 

There’s a lot I regret when I look back on that early era of this blog. The humour and jokes I allowed and sometimes encouraged and said myself here was often not kind, and that’s something I really regret. Eventually, I put an end to that because it just wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted any of us who have fun here to be doing. But I absolutely allowed it to happen for a long time first, and that’s on me. 

Also at that same time, there was a particular way of interacting on tumblr that was very popular. It was a lot of exuberance and hyperbole and insults, and being rude for fun, and overall very over-the-top and often harsh or just plain uncaring that there was someone else at the other end of the message. For everyone who was here in 2012, I think you can probably remember what it was like. It wasn’t a nice mode of communication, but it was popular and got great responses and a lot of people found it fun to read. For a couple of years after I started Ailuronymy, I was absolutely guilty of buying into it and acting this way, until I finally hated it enough to stop. It wasn’t who I wanted to be, in general or on this blog specifically. It felt mean and inauthentic and I wanted to be better. But I did act like that for a long time, and that was a choice I made. 

I’m not saying any of this because I want to make excuses for myself. I’m more aware than anyone else of the problems early on in this blog’s history, and it’s something I regret and wish I could go back to do differently with the knowledge and experience I have now. Unfortunately, I can’t change the past. I can only own up to it and do better going forward. 

I’m sorry for the tone I often used, including to you in that post, and I’m sorry that because of that behaviour, you felt scared and unwelcome here. That’s a failure on my part. I shouldn’t have used the tone I did, or assumed I had to take a defensive, intense stance the way I did. It’s very sad to me to know that because I did that, you were frightened and decided to leave. 

However, I would like to share my context too. Because at the time, I was nineteen years old (which I know probably sounds ancient to younger teens, but it’s not, really), and a bisexual guy (which I still am, obviously), and Ailuronymy was already a place that people (especially queer people) in the fandom were looking to for support and education. Insofar as this blog was developing a niche, that was it. I felt a significant amount of responsibility to champion and defend the people this blog was made for. 

2012 was also a time when the Warriors fandom on tumblr was genuinely very homophobic, and also quite volatile. It was common for people to be very angry (in general, and often at me) for saying that ableism isn’t okay, or that Warriors characters can be trans, or sometimes just “canon naming doesn’t make much sense.” I got quite a lot of hate mail--also sometimes just... confused, angry mail, for this naming system or any of the political things I talked about--and I was doing the best I could with what I had to give. A lot of what I learned during my years of running this blog came from making mistakes, but I always did my best.

The reason I’m bringing this up is because what you actually said was: “these cats can be homosexual, asexual, bisexual, pansexual, and transgender--don’t even ask me how that’s possible. I don’t want to know.” You came to me, a queer man, running a blog that in no small part is about how queerness is allowed to exist in this fandom and is in fact not implausible, during a time when the fandom as a whole was solidly anti-queer, with something like that. Like you said, you shared it with me--and the readers here--because you hoped we would find it hilarious and unrealistic too. 

But I didn’t, because, to me, that’s just what a lot of the fandom already was. It was a hostile environment that regularly argued that queer characters, or people, had no place here. That was the kind of things people on anon fairly often came to yell in my inbox about how I’m wrong, etc. etc., and how I’m bad, etc. etc. 

I reacted defensively, which I wouldn’t do now, because I’m much older, and I have experience and confidence I just didn’t then. At the time, though, what I heard in your ask was “queer characters are absurd and don’t belong here, don’t correct me,” and that is what I reacted to. I’m sure for you, it felt scary and disproportionate, and as I said before, I wish I had handled things differently, and gentler. 

But I don’t disagree with what I said. The points I made weren’t wrong. And my response--although not how I would respond now--was not wrong, even though it hurt you. It genuinely is horrible to know that because of my lack of tact, you were scared. It was also horrible to receive your ask at the time, just like many of the rest. It wasn’t hypothetical to me, because I’m queer. It was about me, and other people I care about very much.

The fact I’m queer is probably news to you, and you were new tumblr and probably didn’t know what was going on in the fandom, and maybe you would have said something different if you knew all this. 

Likewise, though, you were on anon and I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t know you were fourteen. I didn’t know you were asking in good faith, and not just another one of the homophobic fans thinking you’d found a friend in me, which frankly felt a bit insulting. I didn’t know you were and, again, although I wish I did more back then and was kinder in my approach, I didn’t have insight into your intentions. I also didn’t have the maturity for that not to matter.

That said, even in my very imperfect answer I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I specifically said:

“Before you think I’m victimising you - I’m not. This is not personal right now; currently, this is a mistake on your part, and I understand that mistakes are incredibly easy to make. If, by the end of my post, you get where you went wrong here, then it will be like this ask of yours never happened and I will forget you ever said it. I don’t like to hold any kind of grudge if there’s any way to avoid it, and an acknowledgement of where you went wrong here would completely fix everything about this.”

&

“So what you’re saying when you say that you don’t believe that “homosexual, asexual, bisexual, pansexual, and transgender” cats are possible in the context of Warriors is, basically, that you’re a bigot. I am really sorry to say that, because the chances are - I sincerely hope - that you aren’t. You’re a good person. You’re a good person who said something bigoted by mistake. And if you don’t believe what you’ve said is a mistake yet, let me show you some interesting true facts about our world.“

Because I know how easy it is to make mistakes and how hard it is to get everything right all the time, and know everything, and never do something dumb or hurtful. It’s easy to fuck up. I’ve done it a lot. The answer I gave you back then is just one example.

That what you took from my answer was only fear and confusion isn’t something in my control, however. I hate that that’s what happened, and I regret not being who I am now back then, but even though I did fuck up back then, I still did what I could at the time to mitigate the damage and reassure you that a mistake doesn’t define you. I am sorry it wasn’t enough for you to feel okay coming back. But I can’t say I’m sorry for telling you that coming to me on my blog with that kind of mentality is something I’ll tolerate at all. 

Ultimately, I’m sorry that our experience of each other was not a good one. I’m sorry that your memory of me is someone scary and mean, and that you felt you had to leave this site entirely for two years because of it. I regret that my actions left you with such a negative experience, because that was never my intention, even though the way I handled things with you was very poor. 

I hope you’re able to find the closure you’re looking for and I genuinely wish you all the best. 

[envythepalmtree]

My thoughts on 03 and CoS

When I started watching 03, I came in with really high expectations. And I loved it!! Especially the first half - I loved the melancholy tone, the way they fleshed out the FMA world. That being said I have Opinions™️ which also includes some criticisms, as usual. Hearing things about 03 out of context definitely colored my expectations and perception of it. This is partly about the writing of 03, but partly about my own experience watching it.

I’ve been meaning to write and post this for about a month, but only got around to it just now, lol. Spoilers ahead if you haven’t seen it.

What I liked

- The way it took the stuff from the manga and made a completely different story was AMAZING. Far after the storyline diverged, seeing influences from the mangahood storyline and how they were taken in a completely different direction was super cool.

- The tone!! 03 felt much more personal, much more melancholic. We really get to see how traumatic events like the fight with Barry the Chopper effect Edward, and we see that he’s really just a child. A child in the military. I know “03 shows Ed as a child soldier” has been talked about a lot and that aspect of 03 really lived up to what I heard about.

- I loved the fillers!! The adaptations of the bonus comics were delightful to watch and really fleshed out the Mustang squad in a way that Brotherhood didn’t. Roy quoting the Art of War during the Fullmetal vs Flame episode was super cool, ties well with my Xingese Roy headcanons, and I’ll probably write a whole meta on that later.

- Even though I have some beef with the ending, which I’ll get to in a bit, it felt really special to me, personally, to see the characters hopeful and happy even after going through so much loss. I really like the message that sometimes, we do fail. Sometimes, what we’re chasing after is never meant to be ours. But we can learn to get up, and keep going. We can let go of that lost heaven.

What I didn’t

- I heard the line “My sympathy will not be spent on soldiers” out of context. I guess I expected it to be some badass line from Scar about why his anger towards the Amestrian state is valid and not something he needs to apologize for.

- Instead, that line was delivered by Scar right before committing an atrocity - sacrificing a huge number of soldiers for a philosopher’s stone, and placing a huge burden on a 14 year old boy by making Al’s body that stone without his permission. And Scar, after all he’s been through, didn’t get a happy ending. It wasn’t some badass thing, it was painted as tragic. I was really disappointed about where that line ended up and I’ll probably write a whole separate post about the lost potential of that line.

- Ed’s admitting that he has racial bias didn’t live up to my expectations. One of my biggest criticisms of mangahood has been the narrative’s stance towards race: “I think we should ignore race and treat each other as equals!” A common response I got was, “03 doesn’t do that! They actually have Ed admit that he has racial bias!”

- When that scene actually happened, I was thinking, “is that it? Is there more?” And yes, much of that disappointment likely came from me setting way-too-high expectations for the race themes of a shonen anime from 2003. It was such a short moment and didn’t feel as climactic or important as it should have been.

- Roy Mustang. Roy Mustang. The narrative expects us to sympathize with him, to like him, but I found it very hard. In mangahood, Roy’s goal to become Fuhrer and change the country for the better, to help the Ishvalans and make sure that a genocide like that never happens again, is a huge part of the show. In 03, it’s hinted at. Roy talks about becoming Fuhrer in the miniskirt episode, and it’s hinted that he has good intentions and wants to help the Ishvalans. But it’s not considered important.

- And then he completely throws that away.

- Reading things from 03 out of context, I somehow got the impression that Roy was going to quit the military after realizing that he doesn’t want to work within the system anymore. And I was thinking “omg that’s so cool! 03 actually has Roy renounce his ambitions and leave the military, because it’s the best way to help the Ishvalans!”

- Nope. That coup he stages? It’s not out of anger at how the Amestrian state treats its people. It’s not to avenge Ishval. It’s to avenge Maes Hughes, Roy’s friend.

- Having Roy stay in the military, but give up his rank, almost feels like a halfway point between two good ideas: Climbing the ranks to change the country, or leaving because he doesn't want to uphold a corrupt system. Maybe they could've made it work, but I wish they grappled with the implications of that more.

- adklsfaksldfhjks I’m very angry about this and this probably also needs its own post.

- Things in the second half of the show just didn’t feel as fleshed out. In Mangahood we got some time to grapple with the fact that Amestris was created by Father to be sacrificed, to grapple with the implications of that. In 03, that revelation came so close to the end that we just didn’t have time. I was left with so many QUESTIONS about the worldbuilding and parts of the plot, especially after CoS, and they didn’t get answered. I feel like a lot of my problems with 03 would be solved if they added a few episodes. It’d give them time to slow down to add more details, or even just give us an episode or three of Backstory.

all my QUESTIONS:

- Details on Dante and Hohenheim controlling humanity behind the scenes?? They just. tell us that they destroyed entire civilizations like Xerxes.

- Where do Gluttony, Greed, etc come from? If they were created simply to serve Dante, does that mean they were all created after Hohenheim left her?

- Why was Greed imprisoned? Why does he refer to the other homunculi as his sworn enemies?

- Lust is described as the “third Lust.” Who were the other Lusts? Is each sin a position in Dante’s squad, a role that can be filled after the one holding it dies?

- Envy is 300 years old. What the hell were they doing for all that time? Much of their character is based off of resentment of Hohenheim for leaving them and Dante, but that happened extremely recently.

- Hohenheim mentions that alchemy is fueled by people’s deaths in the parallel world?? And it’s NEVER mentioned again??

- How does the portal work? Ed landed in 1910s London, then 1920s Germany. But the times match up in CoS, with the 2 year gap and everything.

- I didn’t understand where the opening flashback about the uranium bomb comes from. It’s implied that it happened in the time gap between Ed joining the military and the Liore arc, but iirc the guy with the bomb came from the other world. How did he get there? How come Ed and Al spend a couple years knowing that a parallel world exists but it’s never brought up?

- How did Ed meet Alfons and get involved in the rocket stuff?

- From one of the guys in the Thule society: “but Hohenheim’s sons are from Shamballa.” HOW DOES HE KNOW THAT?

aklsfhsdj that was long. Stay tuned for some more metas about 03, because your girl has Opinions.

[jbbarnesnnoble]

JBBarnesNNoble's 2nd Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Challenge 2021

Hello lovely people! And welcome to the 2nd Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Writing Challenge. The aim of this challenge is to shine a light on mental health, medical conditions, and the things that can have impacts on us. This started out initially being a PCOS Awareness challenge last year but through conversations with other writers over Discord, it evolved into a Mental Health Awareness Month Writing Challenge last year. I’m reusing some of the unused prompts from last year’s challenge and adding in some new ones!

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. The goal of this challenge is to lift each other up, and show that it’s okay not to be okay. Spread some love and light during a challenging time in the world to those who struggle with chronic illness, depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, grief, PCOS, acceptance from their families and communities for being LGBT+, and anyone struggling with insecurity.

This challenge will run through July 31st, 2021. It will run through Mental Health Awareness Month, Pride Month, and the month of July to give people time to write. You can submit it at any time. I probably have too many prompts, but I wanted to ensure that there was a wide array to choose from. Please don’t hesitate to message me if I haven’t interacted with your fic after a few days! Sometimes the tag system doesn’t work and I miss things!

The Rules:

1. Utilize resources available online if you’re dealing with subject matter you’re not that familiar with. I’m not going to go all “cite sources” on y’all, but please do make sure to do your research. Writing about some of these issues can be hard if you don’t have first hand knowledge of how it can affect you. The goal of this challenge is to write about topics that we tend to shy away from, that many of us struggle with, from mental health struggles to chronic illnesses to low-self esteem. A gentle reminder that if you think writing about a subject will be triggering for you, please look after yourself first.

2. Use #JBBNNMHAM21 to tag your fic

3. Dark!Fic- Due to the subject matter involved in this challenge, please don’t submit dark!fic. I enjoy dark fics, but this challenge isn’t the place for them.

4. Smut- Smut is welcome! Make sure you tag it appropriately.

5. No inc*st, dubcon/noncon, underage, etc

6. Ships- I prefer reader inserts, but show me what ya got.

7. NO JOHN WALKER FICS. Please. Please no. I beg of you.

8. Selecting Prompts: Just let me know which one you want to do! 2 people per prompt! The song prompts have a line from them under it. You DO NOT need to use the line in your submission! It’s mostly to help you decide if you’re interested in a song before you take a listen to it.

You also can alter the sentence and dialogue prompts as needed for grammar, be it altering the pronouns used or changing the pluralization of a word.

9. Trigger Warnings: Use warnings as needed. Fics dealing with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, or other mental health issues should be tagged appropriately to ensure that readers that may be triggered by the subject matter can avoid the fic. Trigger warnings are non-negotiable

The prompts are under the cut!

Prompts:

Dialogue Prompts:

“I feel like if I let go, if I move on, I’ll only be proving them right.”

“I don’t know. Am I? Because from where I’m standing it’s pretty damn clear that’s how you see me.”

“You don’t believe that do you? Tell me you don’t. Please.”

“It’d probably be easier if you left”

“Please leave me alone”

“Everyone’s got broken pieces. Some have more, some have less. It doesn’t make you less of a person to have those broken pieces.” @nekoannie-chan

“If it’s okay with you, I’ll take that shake now.”

“What’s the point if I’m going to end up breaking that promise too?”

“You sure about that, moonman?”

“It made you smile though. And that will always be a win in my book.”

“That’s not true. And I will tell you that every day of your life until you believe me.”

Sentence Prompts:

Feel free to adjust the pronouns as needed

It was a day. It was the only way it could be described.

Summer had a smell that reminded her of innocence and a time long since past.

In that moment, the world stopped spinning on its axis as it all shattered down around her.

Some things, there would never be a way to understand. @justrunamok

Like shattered glass, in that moment the illusion was broken.

Forever was a lie, just like everything else.

If you had another condescending doctor tell you your problem wasn’t a problem you were going to scream.

They’d say it was easy, like riding a bike. Except, you never learned how to ride a bike in the first place.

Today was going to be good. It had to be.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was going south.

AU and Trope Prompts:

Soulmate @samsgoddess

College

Childhood Friends @tellmealovestory

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers

Musicians

Writer

Professional Athlete

Teacher

Coffee Shop

Fake Dating

Accidental Marriage

Royal

Librarian

Doctor

Song Prompts:

1. Nobody Ever Told You - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “Wish you could see yourself the way I do. Nobody ever told you, nobody ever told you. Shine like a diamond, glitter like gold, and you need to know what nobody ever told you”

2. Missing You - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “And if you need a friend, I’ll help you stitch up your wounds. I heard that you’ve been, having some trouble finding your place in the world. I know how much that hurts. But if you need a friend, then please just say the word.”

3. Barefoot and Bruised - Jamestown Story

Lyric Snippet: “Maybe when your sky comes crashing down, I can be your angel on the ground. If you get tired and can’t go on, I will carry you along, when the rocks below your feet wear out your shoes, when you’re barefoot and bruised”

4. Hold On Till May- Pierce the Veil

Lyric Snippet: “If were you, I’d put that away. See you’re just wasted and thinking about the past again. Darling, you’ll be okay.”

5. If I Surrender - Citizen Soldier

Lyric Snippet: “If I surrender, surrender, to the monsters in me, will it set me free?”

6. Home - Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors, Beba Rexha

Lyric Snippet: “All these miles, feet, inches, they can’t add up to the distance that I have been through just to get to a place where even if there’s no closure I’m still safe. I still ache from trying to keep pace. Somebody give me a sign, I’m starting to lose faith”

7. Broken Arrows - Daughtry

Lyric Snippet: “The best of intentions I lay at your feet. And I need you to see past the worst part of me.”

8. Used - Serious Matters

Lyric Snippet: “The wounds are gone and the pain still lingers. But this time I won’t stand by, I don’t need you in my life”

9. According to You - Orianthi

Lyric Snippet: “According to you, I’m stupid, I’m useless, I can’t do anything right”

10. Let It Land - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And everything we hate is something we just bought along the line”

11. Cold As You - Taylor Swift

Lyric Snippet: “You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey. And I stood there loving you and wished them all away. And you come away with a great little story, of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you”

12. Tied Together with a Smile - Taylor Swift

Lyric Snippet: “Hold on, baby you’re losing it. The water’s high, you’re jumping into it, and letting go, and no one knows. That you cry but you don’t tell anyone that you might not be the golden one. And you’re tied together with a smile, but you’re coming undone.”

13. Human Interaction - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “I don’t know love. I don’t know hate. I am numb. Wish I could find the words to say. Asking please, as colors fade. I need to breathe. Before I turn the world to grey.”

14. Therapy - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “Give me therapy, I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything. Therapy you were never a friend to me, and you can keep all your misery”

15. Scars - Alison Iraheta

Lyric Snippet: “Do you know how hard I’ve tried to become what you want me to be. Take me, this is all that I’ve got, this is all that I’m not, all that I’ll ever be. I got flaws, I got faults, keep searching for your perfect heart. It doesn’t matter who you are, we’ve all got our scars”

16. Hurts to Know - 1551

Lyric Snippet: “I can’t remember what I did to earn you by my side. I can’t surrender. I’ll fight as long as you’re in my life”

17. Spinning Bottles - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “He’s in a hotel room, with the tv on. Getting lost in the static with the curtains drawn, knowing this could be the time that gets her gone for good, he’d quit if he could. But one down, two down, three down, four, can’t even recognize the man in the mirror anymore”

18. Praying - Kesha

Lyric Snippet: “Well you were wrong and now the best is yet to come. ‘Cause I can make it on my own. And I don’t need you, I found a strength I’ve never known.”

19. Jersey On the Wall (I’m Just Asking) - Tenille Townes

Lyric Snippet: “If I ever get to heaven, you know I got a long list of questions. Like how do you make a snowflake, are you angry when the earth quakes? How does the sky change in a minutes, how do you keep this big rock spinning? Why can’t you stop a car from crashing? Forgive me, I’m just asking”

20. Five More Minutes - Scotty McCreery

Lyric Snippet: “Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times. Oh, but they just keep on flying right on by like it ain’t nothing, wish I had me a, a pause button. Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it. Give myself five more minutes”

21. Dad’s Old Number - Cole Swindell

Lyric Snippet: “Sometimes I forget, these ten digits ain’t my lifeline anymore. Every now and then I dial them up when life gets tough or when the Braves score. Sorry about the one ring hang ups, early morning and late night wake ups. It was just me. In case you wondered, you’ve got dad’s old number.”

22. The Other Side - Lauren Alaina

Lyric Snippet: “There’s gonna be a lot of sadness on a lot of happy days, I’ll try to think of this moment, this place”

23. I Was Here - Beyonce

Lyric Snippet: “So they won’t forget I was here. I lived. I loved. I was here. I did, I’ve done, everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be. I will leave my mark so everyone will know I was here.”

24. Gone Too Soon - Simple Plan

Lyric Snippet: “Like a shooting star, flying across the room. So fast, so far, you were gone too soon. You’re a part of me. And I’ll never be the same here without you. You were gone too soon.”

25. Amelia - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And you will always be perfect, you’ll always be beautiful, our hearts, will never forget you. You didn’t belong here, and it’s become so clear why heaven called your name.”

26. Heaven Right Now - Thomas Rhett

Lyric Snippet: “When the whole crew gets together, memory lane goes on forever. We twist a top and pour a little Jack D out.”

[beautifulterriblequeen]

B2:S - Chapter 4

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be Viren being villainous, Rayla, Claudia, Soren, and Callum, and tons of culture clash themey stuff

and a tw: animal death, Claudia why

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

Viren's scenes in Book Two: Sky are all amazing because they're full of worldbuilding and character building details. I love to study the word choices used from his perspective. They're so tasty. Like how he forced a servant, and also Soren, to carry his messages to the rookery, so that he never had to go himself. I'm really curious why Viren is forcing a servant, whose job is literally to serve, here. He really only has to ask. Maybe he was mean about it on purpose, or maybe he picked a servant who was afraid of birds just to flex on them. Whatever the reason for the word choice, Viren doesn't seem to like servants' jobs, it seems, especially when they take him somewhere with poop on the floor. It makes it all the more ironic that he sweeps Runaan's cell clean himself, then, humbling himself before he finally figures out the mirror.

Viren's secretive, right down to his very carefully chosen words to those around him, but his true thoughts shine through even more clearly in the book than in the show. He knows he's been sneaking and hiding stuff, and he knows that some of those actions would be called treachery. Stealing the king's seal to forge royal documents is up there on the treacherous list, but it's apparently not there alone. Ah, Viren, such a villainous delight. What have you gotten up to?

The way he thinks of and treats Crow Master is ageist and classist, but certain lines also hint that Viren has spent a lot of time memorizing the finer points of proper courtesy, and he expects others to have done the same. There are many reasons someone might put forth such effort: a commoner trying to better himself to be noticed by a kind prince is a nice version. A sociopath learning to fake caring about rich people so he can blend in with them is less nice. Superconveniently, the skills a young, earnest Viren might use to feel worthy of Harrow's attention will serve him just as well when dark magic ravages his empathy and he has to lie to everyone about how dead he is inside in order to keep his position of power. Until he's not lying anymore and he straight up threatens poor Crow Master with death unless he sends illegal mail for him. There's the Viren we know and uhhhhhh

Rayla and the blue rose! It's so fun to see inside her head here. She acted swiftly in the last chapter to save herself from Claudia's sleep spell, but now that she has to lie there, that thorn really hurts! She wishes she maybe had a different plan instead of playing asleep.

I hope Rayla only calls Claudia's voice "awful" because of association. I love Claudia's raspy voice! It's so neat! Rayla immediately recognizes it as Claudia's, from the castle and identifies her as a dark mage, with a clanky-metal warrior beside her. She gets mad at Soren for apparently calling killing a sport, even though that's not what he said at all. Soren's using an unfamiliar, maybe old-fashioned term, and Rayla's taking it very literally. It's like Viren and Runaan are arguing through them. A fun little example of culture clash.

Also digging the fact that Rayla knows what sleeping breathing looks like, as opposed to awake breathing, for the purposes of faking someone out. Did she just. Perch in a tree over Runaan and Ethari as they napped after a picnic and watched them sleep, or did Runaan help her sneak around the Silvergrove to spy on sleeping elves for training purposes? Also, raise your hand if you've faked sleep breathing to fool someone. that's not just me right

Rayla's sass is a constant delight. Whenever she's up against an enemy, she is outwardly fearless and full of witty taunts and comments, and I love her so much. where could she have learned this from I also love that she can't help but flex on Soren about her technique. It seems that her attitude is part "never show fear" and part "humans are liars."

Claudia and Soren were trying to kill Rayla to save the princes from her. But Rayla was also intent on killing both of them right back. And she wasn't ever gonna tell Callum and Ez about that. Woah. First Harrow, now this. That whole "death and secrets" thing really sank in with her, didn't it? Crack voice in the back of my brain: Ethari does know Runaan stabs people, right, he does know that?

Interesting change of detail from show to book: in the show, Claudia overheats Rayla's swords with some green splattery goo from a little glass jar. In the book, uhhh. She grabs a live bird and squishes it to cast the spell. Eew. Really making a point of dark magic's inherent violence today, I see. Got it.

"Rayla, pipe down." Callum still has a ways to go on how to win friends and influence people here. Everyone's shouting, he's interrupted to save Rayla's life (or so he thinks), and when Rayla shouts that his friends tried to kill her, he tells her--and no one else--to pipe down. Followed soon by "but a 'good' elf." Ahgod. He doesn't think he's taking sides, but he's got two humans versus one elf, and he's a human himself, and his underlying biases are showing. He's 14, and he's willing to learn, though--and he really does learn and grow over time. But this version of this scene was just. So. Painfully. Awkward.

I feel like this version was part of a larger theme I'm seeing throughout the first half of the book, emphasizing that Callum comes from years of having a crush on Claudia, and it takes many scenes with Claudia and with Rayla to shift through several gears with each of them in order to facilitate the possibility of breaking with Claudia and then also of falling for Rayla, in a way that feels organic within the structure of the story being told.

Also Callum super has a type and it's Girls Who Will Commit Murder. I don't make the rules.

Rayla's defense just attacks Callum's word choice: "What do you mean, 'but a good elf'? Do you know any bad elves?" And I just. Rayla, honey. You're not in any better of a spot than Callum right now. Your mentor literally stabs people to death. You're both literally assassins. Some humans could accept most elves, but they might draw the line at assassins.

But this tiny clash in the midst of this war, this single exchange of words, is such a great microcosm, the war made personal. It's early enough in their adventure and their growth that they're still sounding a lot like their parents. And that includes Claudia! She demands to know how an elf can be good, and Callum allows that it's possible for good elves to exist, but he has to be the one to say it, not the actual elf behind him. And the actual elf behind him insists that her kind are all good, thank you very much, and implying otherwise skirts very close to "humans are liars."

It's quite a tangle, but having the main characters tangled up like this shows us that as they untangle themselves in their own personal situations, they're learning things about human and elven hearts, about relationships and family, and those things are universal truths which they can use to help them understand other people's troubles, as well as the larger issues involved in the war they're trying to stop.

Callum assessing--and then reassessing--his confidence level. It's adorable, and it serves to show that his first scrambling attempt to make peace, in which he messed up a little but at least no one died--won't be his last. He's not really sure how this is gonna go. Everything is new. But he's dedicated to peace, and he's not giving up. He did just run in between Soren and his target while Soren was holding a sword.

He keeps doing that. Standing in front of people who have their weapons raised in his direction. And he does it with a ridiculous amount of chill. Is this Sarai's influence on him? Considering that Harrow has kept his distance, maybe so! I'd love that.

This chapter ends with some fun relationship drama when Callum gets butterflies in his stomach at being around Claudia again. She tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, and he forgets all about telling her about smashing her primal stone. He instantly worries that Rayla saw her gesture, which of course she did. Callum's nervousness and Rayla's glare feel to me like they're supposed to fit into a tactical box instead of a romantic box, but I can see how it could be interpreted the other way. Callum just intervened in a fight that Rayla completely intended to end by secretly killing Claudia and Soren, so in Rayla's mind, she's probably convinced that Callum intervened to save his girlfriend's life, while he's sure that he just saved Rayla's. She's probably angry because Claudia's gesture is making her think that Callum only seemed to be trying to save Rayla when his true intention was to save Claudia all along.

Dun dun dunnnnnnn.