#but i tried writting it like 3 times so i just left it and broke it into smaller peices

[dictionaryl4]

I wanted to do a big post with all my headcanons that came from the Big Lore Friday (tm) but I think I'll do a few "shorter" ones.

Anyhow: The Ancient Elven Library, it's discovery and the implication for World building.

So, we all know that Gem was informed of the existence of the Library by the Ancient Wizards of the Crystal Cliffs. We also know that for Scott, the Library was more of a story, a tale he had been told as a kid. But Scott mentioned that the Overgrown might know if (and where) it exists, impling that it might even be as old as Aeor and Exor.

But what does that imply for the World and it's Gods, Deities? If the Overgrown (or is it Overgrowth??) is as old as the the Stag Gods, how old is the Empires world? How long have the societies existed? Is it the first world the Gods settled on or did they chose another one after the last fight between the Champions of the Stag Gods? Are the Overgrown and Rivendell connected or did the citizens of Rivendell settle in the original world occupied by the Overgrown?

How is the history of the empires connected? With the Big Lore Drop (tm) (I will continue calling it that, because, holy fork, there was a lot of information on Friday), we learned that the Crystal Cliffs are much older than they seem to be. I mean, ancient Wizards? in a land that doesn't even have a complete Village??? I don't think so. But we also learned that they knew about the ancient library, so they must have known about Rivendell. Or maybe, as Scholars, they worked with the Elven Scholars and that's why they know of it's existence? Gem also said at the end of her episode that she is but a young Wizard, who still has a lot to learn. She wants to build up her empire, create a magic school, prove her worth as a Wizard. I want to believe that a young Gem (or maybe a young Gem and her brother fWhip ????) were send to the Empires World from their Original World (wherever it might be) because the Ancient Wizards knew they would be needed to fight off one and fight with the other of the new champion of the Stag Gods. It would even be that far fetched to believe that there are other worlds out there, considering how Shrub joined the Empires World. Maybe the Wizards knew about the Overgrown. Maybe they sensed that it was a powerful force, a good one, a power of growth and prosperity, providing a good environment for Gem to become the best Wizard she could be.

I think, maybe, that the elves coming from Rivendell also came from their world to the world the Overgrown had settled in, but a long while before Gem was sent there. That's why it knows of the library. That's why Katherine was chosen as the new gardian, because the Overgrown sensed that a new protector was needed. (or maybe she woke up from a century long slumber, who knows how the guardian is chosen. Also the reason she had to rebuild her empire).

We now why the Crystal Cliffs have to be rebuild, we know that Katherine's empire needs to be rebuild, but what about the rest? Why does no one have an empire to live in, no place to stay? (we are just going to blatantly disregard the fact that this is a Minecraft world and that these are CCs creating mainly building content).

The ten original rulers woke up and gathered in the jungle, around a campfire. They then all went to seek out a place to settle and lay down their roots. A part of me wants to believe that they were all sent to the Empires World, where the Overgrown already existed, to help rid their world (or maybe even the universe ????) of all evil. Or maybe, apart from a few exceptions, they all already existed in this world and were hit by some kind of memory spell, making them forget their history, only leaving them with their identity and a wage memory of their history and customs? Regardless of how it went, I believe that all of them were called to build were they did.

All of them are connected somehow. Gem, Katherine and Scott, Lizzie and Jimmy, Gem, fWhip and Sausage, Pearl and Sausage, Sausage, Joey and Xornoth, Joey and Shrub, Scott and Xornoth, Pix and Death... The world is much older than we believe, and I don't think they are all native to that world. They might have all had the same staring point, but that was caused by something.

Now, the library itself was buried in the mountain. We also know that the Heart if the Sea thingy that Lizzie needed was buried in Scott's mountain. Have they risen to cover those things? is it more if a coincidence? Why always Rivendell? The fact that the book of Prophecies was inside the ancient library reinforces my belief that they (the rulers) are all there (the Empires world) for a reason.

Maybe the sea creature that birthed the Seablings is as old as the Overgrown, maybe even older. Maybe it's younger that the Overgrown but older than Rivendell. Maybe the prophecies are more ancient that any of them could ever be.

Who knows? I believe the world and it's inhabitants are all older than we believe and all interconnected somehow. But the rulers themselves are all just youngins (whatever is considered young in their culture) that try to build a better world than the one they left behind.

[kimbap-r0ll]

Hello there! I just read the MC is going back home and break up post, your writting is absolutely beautiful and eveything, I enjoyed it so much😢

For here can I request a part 2 where MC came back and surprise them? If it's too much of a work you can ignore this ask! Just wanted to say that that piece is so good ^^

Hope you have a great day <3

Hi! I’m glad you liked it! Omg yes we need a part 2, my heart broke while writing the first part haha. Thank you for the request! These came out pretty long but I had so much fun writing them!

Housewardens' reactions to s/o coming back from their world (part 2 of this)

Riddle

It’s an unbirthday party, one that is held every now and then in Heartslabyul, and Riddle was sighing to himself because you weren’t going to be here for it. You had been gone for a few months now, but it felt like years since he last saw you. He didn’t even have the energy to off someone’s head while you were gone.

But little did he know, you had stepped out of the mirror in the chamber of mirrors, only for Grim to come running to hug you as you entered Ramshackle once again. Somehow, you had come back and this time decided to enroll as a student to work alongside Grim. Ace and Deuce found out too, and decided to invite you to the unbirthday party as a surprise for Riddle. Trey was also let in on this. Everyone was basically hugging you and welcoming you back.

The event then came, and Riddle was doing his usual in starting the party. He gave his final remarks before he was going to raise a toast to the party. Suddenly, Cater stopped him, telling him there’s a surprise that they prepared for Riddle.

Then, Trey, Ace, and Deuce moved to the side where they were hiding you behind them. You stepped out into the front with a bright smile, holding the trinket that he had gifted you with (a small hedgehog keychain) and said “I’m back!”

Riddle felt his heart stop, he eyes widened and tears seemed to blur his vision. Was it really you? He seems to lose composure as he runs to you and hugs you, tears finally falling.

“I missed you so much, love. I thought I might never see you again,” he says, and you simply pat his back and tell him “I missed you too, I’m glad we’re together again.”

Leona

He was sleeping in the botanical garden as always, this time for longer than usual. He was trying to get back to the dream where you were still there with him.

He couldn’t forgive himself for being careless when he let you go, and Ruggie noticed how Leona was acting a lot more sad in the months you were gone. Ruggie was also the first one to find out you came back. He saw you at Ramshackle, high-fived you and told you what had happened while you were gone. Basically, in Ruggie’s words, Leona was “moping around” and being “way too lenient on Ruggie.”

You decide to go look for him, and the first place you decide to go is the botanical garden. That was where you two first met anyways, so you were sure he would be there.

Going through the many flowers and shrubs, you see a familiar pair of lion ears sticking out behind of a bush. You decide to walk over and tap him on the shoulder like you always did. His eyes open and he blinks, then his eyes widen.

“Y/n? Is this a dream again?” he asks you, but you shake your head. You cup his face in your hands and say “Nope, I’m back for real. I’m not going anywhere too, I��ll be staying.”

He chuckles a bit, then he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and doesn’t say anything else. You feel something slightly wet on you, and you notice that he’s crying. Patting his head, you reassure him that you’re here. You two have the kind of love that makes kings and vagabonds believe the very best

Azul

He’s tried to get back his regular schedule after you left, but the tweels can see him break down more often in his room when the day is over. It’s honestly a little bit concerning since you had been gone for months and they thought that by now maybe their Azul would be back to normal, but it seemed like Azul was just going downhill.

One day, you come to Mostro lounge, holding his coin with you tightly. Jade first welcomes you in as a regular guest until he gets a better look at you and almost shouts because he’s so surprised. You’re back! Floyd then comes running after spotting you and Jade exchange welcomes, basically jumping on you screaming “SHRRIMMPYY WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!”

You say you came to meet Azul again and that you are staying in this world for good. They lead you to his office, since he doesn’t stay outside often due to his distraught. Jade knocks on the door for you and tells Azul that he has a client. Azul is silent, then you hear his tired voice to come in.

Jade and Floyd basically push you in and close the door quickly behind you. Azul looks up slowly at you, and then you hear his chair fall back as he jumps up. His eyes are wide, his lips quiver for a moment as he mutters “y/n” while frozen in place.

“Azul, I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble for all this time. I hope you can forgive me, I’ll be staying here forever, which means I can be with you forever too,” you bow your head down to show your apology, but he just runs to you and hugs you tightly. He’s sobbing, crying about how much he missed you and saying that he’s so happy your back.

Jade and Floyd outside can hear how much Azul is crying and basically smile at each other, knowing that Azul’s going to be back to normal. Meanwhile with you, you’re hugging him back just as tightly, kissing him on the cheek and telling him it’s all going to be okay. You’re going to be staying in his part of the world, and who could ask for anything else?

Kalim

He still seems like a ball of sunlight, but when he returns to his room or is alone with Jamil, he’s clearly sad. He talks about you nonstop to Jamil, and Jamil honestly wants you to come back so Kalim will stop haha.

One day, Jamil happened to be passing by Ramshackle when he heard Grim screaming. Jamil decided to go investigate, wondering what the commotion was until he saw Grim dragging you out of the dorm. Jamil also shouts “Y/N” before running to you. He tells you that you need to meet Kalim now, and explains how Kalim has been so sad.

When you go to Scarabia, you see Kalim sulking on the balcony area of the dorm. He’s looking off into the night skies, wondering when he might see you again, if that was even possible. If there was a genie, he would wish for you to be at his side, or vice versa honestly.

“Kalim?” You call out, and he looks in your direction. He almost falls off of the balcony due to the shock but catches himself. He just starts sprinting at you, crying loudly “Baby I missed you!! You came back!”

You hug him tightly when he crashes into you, basically sobbing loudly as the two of you are on the floor. Jamil tries to get Kalim to stop so that you have some space but it’s basically impossible to remove him from you. Eventually, Kalim will calm down a bit and smile brightly at you. He’s just too happy to be sad right now!

He takes you on a magic carpet ride later, and you two fly in the endless diamond sky, hugging each other and in awe at the fantastic point of view. You’re back in the whole new world, and this time forever for you and Kalim.

Vil

He masks his sadness and his distress so well no one knew he was sad. Some people thought he was heartless because of this, as he continued to show beauty and grace in the months you were gone. But this was all an act done by a professional actor, in truth he was so distraught he sometimes didn’t have the energy to fix his makeup. Sometimes he would just cry, cry until his mascara was ruining his face and his clothes. Rook was the only one who knew about this.

One day, you step out of the mirror again and the first person you run into is Ace. Ace basically jumps and tackles you, saying how much the whole school missed you. He then says that Deuce is in the cafeteria and that you should meet him. You are basically dragged around for the day to meet everyone and get hugs (Floyd hugged you extremely tightly that you thought your bones were breaking).

But by the end of the day, you look at Epel and ask him if he can lead you to Pomefiore’s dorm. Epel agrees, saying that Vil’s been harsher than before and he thinks it’s because Vil misses you. You worry about your boyfriend as you two go through the mirror and to Pomefiore.

Vil is in his room, sitting in front of his mirror and trying to fix his hair. He noticed the bags under his eyes and sighed to himself, he was a mess. But then, someone knocked on his door, and at this late hour! He asked who it was, and Epel just nudged you forward, whispered good luck, and ran off (“I don’t want to deal with Vil”). You spoke up, stating your name.

There’s a silence, then he marches to the door and opens it slowly, only to see you standing and looking at him. He feels his breath hitch, his eyes are wide, and his arms drop to his side. He’s just so shocked that you came back, after what felt like a final goodbye. He tries to regain his composure by letting you in, but once the door closes, he just starts to full on cry. “Darling, I missed you so much. I thought I would never see you again.”

You hug him, letting him cry on your shoulder, and you feel tears coming down your face too. The two of you had been holding the sadness in and now it was flooding out. You were so happy to see him again and you told him that there would be no goodbyes anymore. You came back to his world to be happy forever.

Idia

He was always shut in, but now he seemed even more unapproachable. Ortho tried to get Idia to get out of bed in those months, but it seemed near impossible. Not to mention Idia’s sleep schedule was worse after you left as he tried to forget about you by playing video games. But every time he played a game, he was reminded of you, and had to stop.

Idia had tried to figure out ways to bring you back, but everything led to the same answer; it would be impossible. He eventually gave up, deciding to think that he didn’t deserve love like he had. That was until Ortho told him to come by to Ramshackle.

Idia nervously went to the dilapidating dorm, wondering what the commotion was. There was no one at the dorm from what it looked like, was Ortho trying to scare him?

Idia called out to his brother as he stepped in, but there was no response. He eventually got to the lounge area, and suddenly the lights turned on and Ortho shouted surprise along with someone that looked extremely familiar. It was you. You were here, in person, not on screen or in a picture, but in front of him.

He felt his legs buckle under him, and he just muttered your name out before slumping to the ground. He didn’t expect to see you, and he was just overwhelmed. You rush to him, asking if he’s alright and telling him that you had returned to stay with him. You wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“Ah, that’s great, I was beginning to think life is truly better in vr,” he laughed weakly, but then he started to cry. You hugged him tightly. Then, you asked if he wanted to go play a video game with you, and he agreed immediately. Ortho beamed at you two, happy that his brother was smiling again. Idia won’t tell you right away that he was crying his heart out, but you know that he missed you deeply and is just way too happy right now. It feels better than getting an SSR card in a game or getting a secret ending, he’s back with you and that’s all that matters.

Malleus

Lilia’s the only one that knows how sad Malleus was. Sebek and Silver don’t notice the subtle chances Malleus has in his attitude, but Lilia can see Malleus’s eyes being sadder in the months you are not here. Malleus can also be found more frequently at the Ramshackle dorm, looking to see if by any chance you were in there.

One day, while he was walking around, he notices the lights in the dorm are on. Grim never kept them on at this hour, so why was it? Was it the ghosts? Curious, Malleus decided to venture closer, until he heard Grim shouting “I THOUGHT I WOULD NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN AAAARRRGGH-“

That was all it took for Malleus to basically barge into the dorm. He usually thinks before doing this, but this time he felt urgent. Was it you? Did you find a way back? Crowley had said it was impossible and Lilia didn’t know how to get you back either, so it would be a miracle if somehow you were here.

He opened the door to where all of the commotion was, your room. He saw Grim crying, and you hugging the cat. You looked up, eyes wide and then smiling at him. Grim jumped off of you and sobbed to Malleus that you were back. Malleus smiled, a warm smile that you had seen rarely. “Welcome back, my rose.”

He walked over to you, lending you a hand and helping you get up on your feet. The two of you looked at each other for a long time before speaking. He asked if you would be staying here, and you said yes. Apologizing for the trouble, you tell him that you won’t be leaving his side. He hugs you, a gentle and strong embrace as he closes his eyes.

Lilia likely saw all of this from the window and smiled to himself as he walked back to Diasomnia’s dormitory. Malleus truly thought that meeting you would be once upon a dream, but now he was with you, and this time forever. Perhaps the fae prince too could experience true love.

[beats-7979]

Hello! (I see the request open but the last post you made was in February so I'm pretty scared...) If you're still open, can i request for Jade and gender neutral reader? but the reader is the one in denial. If you can make it angst then it'll be better! Thank you!

P.s. i love your wordings btw I'm probably gonna look at your works for wordings reference if you're ok with that :3

Sure! Requests are still open.. since no one's asked me anything! And thank you for liking my writting style!

Hope you'll like this one! Cuz Idk if its an angst XD, can say that its my first time writing an angst one shot

Your smile

Your voice

Your kindness

Your anger

Your sadness

Your likes and dislikes

Your little habits

Even the sides of you that you never know didn't escape his ever so observing eyes and ears.

How simple curriosity had pulled him far into romantic curriosity surprised him and perhaps much more so when his affection knows no boundaries.

He tried to hold his own lusts and affection with his all too profesional mask, his gentleman facade but sadly to no avail.

Little bits of his own love for you had poured out only to receive nothing in return, perhaps a friendly gesture was all but he wanted more

And you know it...

A little too late, if one can say.

Only when he was desperate

When he was thirsty of your affection did you come to realise his love for you.

But even if you knew you can only say 'sorry'

Love was not in your mind and perhaps will never be when you know you'll stay in twisted wonderland only for some short period of time, so rather than getting hurt in any unwanted emotions you can only keep those you know of as friends and nothing more.

So it was hard to see Jade, the sadist gentleman eel merman to be sad... to be this... broken...

Begging you to not leave this world only to be returned with a smile from you.

You have to return for you can't abandon those who you've held dear in your own world just for a fleeting wonderland.

Not for someone whose love you can't return.

So you left...

And you've completely broke Jade.

Like a river his tears was

His cries was taken away by the silence

His body shaking with none to comfort him

How your warmth was now nothing more than a memory broke him

And perhaps more so when he can't seem to find any ways out from loving you.

He loved you too deep...

But just like how you've became none but peices of a memory to him

He too must try to move on

Try to forget you... who he loved with his everything

[anneshirleywasmychildhood]

Shirbert, plz.

Coffee shop AU: Who is the barista, and who frequents the coffee shop?

So, first off Gilbert is a sleep deprived doctor who need coffee every three hours or he will literally collapse. It also doesn’t help that the barista in the hospital coffee shop is really pretty. He even talks to her some times if he’s pulling the midnight shift and there’s no one around. She’s going to grad school for creative writting and, ironically, doesn’t drink coffee. Prefers tea apparently. Gilbert is kind of suspicious she might be an alien. 

Next Christmas he gives her a bag of really good earl grey tea. She gives him his large coffee with four shots of expresso on the house. A couple months later she invites him to her birthday party. Well, her friend Diana was there dropping off a dress for Anne to wear when Gilbert came in to get his third cup of coffee and she invited him. It was a flapper dress, since Anne was turning 25 and celebrating her roaring 20s with a roaring 20s party. Later that month he got over his nerves and asked her out. She said yes, and later it is revealed that Bash won the hospital betting pool the doctors and nurses set up.

Highschool/College AU: Who is the straight-A student, and who’s the backrow slacker?

Anne is the straight A student. She raises her hand at every opportunity and knows every answer to every question. Her notes were the most meticulous in the entire school. Gilbert, the exact opposite. He never raises his hand, never takes any notes, and never pays attention either. The weird thing? Anne is only 2nd in her class. Gilbert is first. No matter how hard she tries, he tries less, and she still losses to him. Every single time. It doesn’t help that Mr. Phillips kinda hates Anne and gives Gilbert praise just to spite her. Eventually, they join the debate club and their rivalry goes into overdrive. Well, it’s kind of one sided. Anne tries furiously, Gilbert doesn’t try at all. 

Rivals to loves AU: Who takes their rivalry seriously, and who is half in it just to push the other’s buttons?

Just like above, Anne takes their rivalry very seriously but Gilbert just likes the idea of her thinking about him at all. 

Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?

Gilbert would do anything for Anne, including changing sides. 

Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?

Anne wants to meet her soulmate so god damn badly. It’s all she’s dreamed about her entire life. At 12 years old, she waits eagerly with Diana to see the first words he will say to her. Then she sees them. “Carrots.” Her face goes as red as her hair. Diana, well versed in Anne’s self esteem issues, immediately assures her that it might not be as bad as it sounds. A few months later, in a nearby hospital, Gilbert and his father stay up late into the night waiting for the words to appear. “Back off, and leave me alone.” Gilbert didn’t know what to say to that. “Well, at least she knows how to speak her mind,” her father said. 

Two years later, his dad is finally out of chemo and they move out of Charlottetown and back to their small village of Avonlea to a very warm welcome. When Anne first sees him and asks about him (she had come to Avonlea after he had left for Charlottetown.) A very nice boy, apparently. Good, he wasn’t someone who would, for example, call her carrots. Josie sees Anne’s smile and quickly reminds her and everyone else that Gilbert belongs to Ruby (Ruby’s soulmate says “hi” the first time he sees her. It did not narrow it down much, so Ruby decided through the power of delusion that it’s Gilbert). Anne nods, and knows that he’s not her soulmate so she should back off. He sees her too, and is entranced. 

In class, they are reading Pride and Prejudice. Anne is completely absorbed in by the book and Gilbert is completely absorbed by Anne. He tries to get her attention but can’t. He leans over to her desk and in a moment of frustration pulls her hair and calls her “Carrots”. She swivels around and uses the hardcover book she was reading to smack him upside the head. “Back off and leave me alone,” she said instinctively, then realised what he had said. He realised what she had said. A small smile spread across his face as horror consumed hers. 

Gilbert pursues her, knowing that they would end up together. Anne is in totally in denial, insisting that just because hers says carrots and his says back off doesn’t mean they are actually soulmates. Eventually, Anne comes around. They have their first kiss and then get married and no, she never again doubted that they belonged together.

Single parent AU: Which one is the single parent? (Alt. if they’re both single parents: Which one is open to starting a new relationship from the start? Which one is never planning on finding love again… Until they meet the other and are instantly smitten?)

Gilbert is the single father to Delphine. Originally her godfather he was forced to assume the role of single parent when her parents died in a care accident. His entire life revolves around her and he would never do anything to jeopardize her happiness. Which is awful because he has been developing a little bit of a crush on her 4th grade teacher, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert. Featuring a young Delphine that attempts to parent trap her dad and her teacher together. Spoiler alert: it works.

Doctor AU: Which one is the long suffering doctor? Which one is the patient?

We all know this one: Gilbert is a doctor. Anne is his clumsy patient.

Bodyguard AU: Who is the bodyguard? Who are they protecting? Which one is secretly pining for the other?

Anne is a highly successful romance writer. Gilbert is meant to protect her. But he has fallen in love with her, and that’s making his job complicated. Anne has found herself having a “protector” side character in every one of her recent books. There was a white knight in “Midnight at Morningstar Castle” who layed down his life to protect the heroine. The scientist in “Stars Above” spent the entire book keeping the heroine safe and though she was in outer space and could only see him though a tiny screen she described him as “incredibly handsome” three times. “Tough Choices in Tough Times” had the protector in the love triangle this time, since he was a humble farmer in the great depression trying to make sure the heroine didn’t have to sell her farm even though she has feelings for the bank manager’s son and if she accepted his marriage proposal she wouldn’t have to worry about the farm. In the end, the bank manager’s son left the bank to live with her on the farm and work the land with her, but there was a lot of fans who liked the protective farmer better. Now she’s nervous because her next book is straight up about a famous gunslinger meant to escort the young daughter of a not so well liked politician across the country to her new fiancée but ends up leaving him to be with her gunslinger. The thing is, she wrote this alone. She only sees Gilbert whenever she goes on a book our so how does she travel across the country with him in 20-ish different cities across the country without letting him know what the book is about because then he might think it’s about him (it totally is, the cowboy is literally called Gilmore) and wacky highjinks ensues.

Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?

Anne is a pirate and I'm pretty sure I already started this one.

Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?

It was super obvious to everyone except Anne that Gilbert was in love with her. But it wasn’t till their 10 year reunion that Gilbert confessed to Anne. The next day, Anne broke off her engagement to Roy and asked him if maybe he still had those feelings. He did. They showed up to their 20 year reunion with 3 children.

[akiris]

Some Mailee fluff

This fic is for the 1k writting challege from @fromthewatertribe. I had so much fun writing this and it’s my first finished fic in 2 years. This fic plays in an Modern University AU, I hope you don’t mind. And sorry if the characters are a little out of character, I tried my best.

Prompts used: 9. and 11 (in bold)

It was finally the long awaited summer break. In the last weeks of the semester Mai couldn’t concentrate on anything besides on how to work up the courage to ask her crush out. “Summer break is the perfect time to hang out with Ty Lee without the stress of college”, Mai thought to herself, at least that’s what she thought happened. Azula overheard what Mai said and smirked, “Should I help you? I’m sure Ty Lee would like to hang out with you too.” Mai sighed and answered coldly, ”If it’s real help and not something for you to take advantage of, sure.” Azula laughed and pouted at the same time, “Damn, you caught me. Just kidding! I overheard Ty Lee talking about how she wants to go to that new bubble tea place, you should invite her there.” Mai, typical of her, didn’t react to Azula’s laugh and pouting. “A bubble tea date, huh? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I will message her today.” Azula grinded, “Good Luck, even if you don’t need it. I’m glad I could help you!” Azula waved Mai goodbye, as she had her own business to take care of. Mai took out her phone and messaged Ty Lee.

“Hey, do you have any plans for summer break?” Ty Lee replied instantly. 

“Hi, Mai! No, I’m totally free.”

“Good, when would you like to hang out with me at the new bubble tea place?”

“OMG! YES! How about directly tomorrow, at 4 pm?”

“Sure, let’s meet directly there!”

“Got it! I look forward to it!”

Wow, that went better than expected, Mai thought to herself and texted Azula. 

“Ty Lee agreed to go to the place with me”

“Congrats! I told you, she is also into you”

“Maybe. We will see how it will go.” 

The next day…

Mai got ready and put on her makeup. Her cat eye was so sharp it could kill a man, and the darkest lipstick, she owned, could scare off anyone. Maybe not the most fitting for a date, but it made Mai feel the most confident. She threw all the necessary stuff in her purse and put on her bad bitch heels. At 3:55 Mai was already at the meeting spot, so she decided to call Ty Lee: ” Where the fuck are you?” “Space doesn’t really exist, so I’m nowhere. Life is built on social constructs and, since there’s no way to know if we’re really alive or if it’s just an illusion, I can’t be anywhere.” “Ty Lee.” “Yeah, sorry, I got caught up but I’ll be there soon.” “Good. I will wait for you.” 10 minutes passed by and Ty Lee rolled up to the bubble tea cafe on her roller skates. Typical Ty Lee, Mai thought as she smiled slightly. It wasn’t common for Mai to smile, so Ty Lee appreciated every moment she saw the smile of her crush. Mai scanned the bubbly girl with her sharp eye from head to toe. Ty Lee was wearing a crimson red sleeveless crop top. Matching to the top was the white skater skirt with small pale pink and rose colored polka dots on it. Her roller skates were a pale pink as well. The smile on the face of Mai slightly increased, causing Ty Lee to blush. “You look beautiful”, Mai complimented her crush. “Thanks! You also look great”, Ty Lee replied. Mai wasn’t the type to reciprocate compliments, but as Ty Lee was her crush a weak heat spread itself across Mai’s cheeks. Still blushing Mai opened the door to the cafe and indicated for Ty Lee to come in, “After you.” Ty Lee smiled and did a small curtsy, which caused Mai to giggle. The two girls found a table in the corner and took a seat there. Mai couldn’t stop looking at Ty Lee while she was inspecting the menu. “I will take the Mango Milk Tea, what about you?” Ty Lee reached out the menu to Mai. While blushing Mai took the menu and looked at it “The Yuzu Matcha tea sounds interesting, I will take that.” “Noted.” A familiar voice interrupted the two love birds. Ty Lee looked up shocked to see Zuko, who was in an apron holding a notebook with a pen. “Zuko? What are you doing here?” Mai asked nonchalantly. Azula’s brother sighed and replied “I work here, if you haven’t noticed it. It’s Uncle’s cafe after all.” Ty Lee processed all the things Zuko said “Oh my god, that’s so cool!” “Yeah, you could say it like that. Your tea will be ready shortly” and with these words Zuko left the two lovebirds alone. “Azula never told me that Zuko works at this cafe, well whatever, she probably has her reasons,” Mai said something after listening to Ty Lee’s and Zuko’s chit-chat. After 10 minutes of waiting Zuko brought Ty Lee and Mai their bubble teas. Ty Lee was super excited and instantly started drinking it. “Wow, it tastes delicious! I didn’t expect anything less from Uncle Iroh.” Mai smiled at excited Ty Lee and also took a sip of her Yuzu Matcha tea. Her eyes widened at how good it tasted. “You are right! It’s really good.” While enjoying the teas Ty Lee and Mai talked and laughed. Zuko took a glance at the table, where they were sitting and noticed that he never saw Mai smile so much. She must really like Ty Lee, he thought. In that moment Mai noticed Zuko and sent him a death stare, which caused the boy to shift his focus back on the bubble tea he was preparing. It was starting to get dark and the girls were ready to leave. Ty Lee pulled out her wallet, prepared to pay for her tea. Mai placed her hand on Ty Lee’s and with a smile on her face said “Don’t worry about it, it’s on me.” Ty Lee grinded back and nodded. As soon as the girls exited the cafe, Ty Lee hugged Mai and whispered in her ear “I enjoyed today a lot! I don’t mind hanging out with you again.” Mai hugged Ty Lee back and smiled. “I know one more thing which could make this day ever better.” Mai released her crush from the hug and slowly placed her dark-colored lips on Ty Lee’s pink ones. Ty Lee, initially shocked about Mai’s forwardness, let herself lose in the embrace of the kiss and felt the warmth rise to her face. Ty Lee placed her hands on Mai’s neck and broke the kiss for a moment to catch a break. She looked up into Mai’s eyes and said shyly “You were right, it did make the day better.”

[artificialqueens]

Level Up, Chapter Ten (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

read on ao3 | word count: 4722

“It’s a great thing. Hey, can I be your momager? Kris Jenner style? Build a Mateo empire and all that?” Alexis’ face lights up, and Vanessa has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Her sister never changes.

“You’re not even my mom. Besides, if you were a Kardashian, you’d be Khloe at best.”

Alexis pouts. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

AN: So…it’s been another month…oops. Sorry everyone! Real life is busy busy, but I’ve had time here and there to work on this fic so while it’s slow going, it’s still trucking along. Thank you guys so much for all the love you’ve given this fic so far, I appreciate it so much. Let me know what you think of this chapter as well! As usual, writ is amazing for betaing <3

Beep beep beep-

“Fuck.” Vanessa grumbles underneath her breath as she hits snooze on her alarm clock for the fifth time in a row, but looking at the 7:15 that flashes on the display, she can’t ignore her wake up time for much longer.

She’s back at work today, a shoot up in midtown. First day back after the tournament.

Not that Vanessa wants to think about it.

The evening after her last match had been a blur, the events mixing together and forming a grey cloud hovering above her brain. Maybe it’s good, though, because the last thing Vanessa wants to do is relive the way her opponent broke down the structures of her boxing skills as if doing so brick by brick.  Now, she feels no better than a beginner walking into their very first class. Hell, maybe Vanessa never had been.

Brooke must be so disappointed with her, now that yesterday’s events have had a chance to settle and allow for some reflection on their surfaces. She hadn’t wanted to show it much last night, being more concerned around whether Vanessa was okay. But now, the fact that her coaching skills are being wasted on Vanessa is probably sinking in, considering Vanessa wasn’t able to stand up to a little bit of a challenge in the ring.

The fact that Vanessa has the day off from training today feels like a blessing. She can push away the events of yesterday and hide them behind a wall in her brain, one strong enough to conceal all the humiliation and disappointment running through her veins, the types that feel like they will never clear out of her system again. She doesn’t have to peek behind the wall until tomorrow, until she’s back in the gym for another morning practice to relive how terribly she’d burned under pressure.

Vanessa reaches out towards her bedside table, fumbling around until she snags her phone by the popsocket in between her fingers just as it’s about to drop. The battery that flashes on the screen is low, nineteen percent, something that makes her frown. She’d definitely plugged it in last night when she’d gotten home, in between sulking on the couch and watching reruns of Malcolm in the Middle to try and wipe her brain. By the time she’d climbed under her covers and unplugged her phone, it had been fully charged.

The dropping battery, now at seventeen percent, is a far cry from being the most alarming thing on her screen. Not with notifications upon notifications on her lock screen from both Twitter and Instagram and, wait - one that says that Bad Bunny of all people has just followed her?

What?

Maybe Vanessa’s still in dreamland, one where she’s become a famous boxer or a rapper with connections in high places. Maybe her alarm clock is about to go off one more time to properly wake her up, because nothing about her screen makes any sense at all.

But then Vanessa’s phone starts to buzz and it’s Monet who’s trying to Facetime her, and she swipes and is about to grumble how it’s early in the morning, damnit-

“Finally! The legend herself is awake!”

“What are you on about?” Vanessa holds back a yawn as she pushes the blankets away from her legs, swings them over the side of her bed.

“You’re a meme, bitch!”

“Huh?” Vanessa’s brows push together as she heads to the bathroom to brush her teeth, phone held in one hand. “Was that Monique’s voice?”

“Not relevant.” Monet waves her hand, when a figure in the background shoots a smile to the camera. “What’s more relevant is the fact that your dumbass has gone viral. You’re trending on Twitter.”

“I’m what now? What the hell would I go viral for? I don’t do anything.” Vanessa mumbles, the toothbrush still in her mouth. “Except lose matches.”

“That’s sort of what you’re viral for.” Monique pops into the frame, a gleeful smile on her face. “Well, more like your little performance after you lost.”

Wait, what?

“What do you mean, performance? I don’t remember doing anything.”

Vanessa tries to ignore the way her heart is beating faster and faster as she spits out her toothpaste, trying to rack what’s left in her brain after actively pushing down the events of last night, because shit, did she do something stupid like have a tantrum? Throw a fit? She can’t even remember after trying to forget it all and the night feels like a blur to her, and fuck, if she’s gone and done something stupid…shit.

She’s real screwed now.

“Wait. You don’t remember?” Monet’s mouth drops open almost in sync with Monique’s and Jesus Christ, this would be funny if Vanessa wasn’t currently filled with a sense of impending doom. “You serious?”

“What did I do?” Maybe Vanessa’s voice gets a little bit squeaky but it’s a miracle that it even comes out at all, from the way that she’s about to implode on the inside.

Monet fiddles with her screen on the other end as a link pops up in Vanessa’s notifications. “Better you watch it yourself.”

Jesus Christ.

The link takes Vanessa to Twitter and fuck, it’s a video of her and her opponent after the match has ended, one that’s surprisingly good quality - probably all the professional cameras that were filming the final matches for some obscure sports network. On screen, Vanessa’s drenched in sweat and looking a little woozy but somehow her braids are still intact, and it’s nice to see that at least her opponent is looking equally as knackered. Though the referee raises the hand of her opponent to indicate the win and watching the events back, it does sting a little bit. They’re still in the ring as the tournament’s master of ceremonies makes his way over, a bedazzled microphone in his hand that sparkles under the bright overhead lights.

“That was quite the match, ladies! I gotta hand it to both of you because that was entertaining boxing. Let’s talk to you first, Vanessa, after that loss. What’s going through your head?”

Vanessa watches as her on screen self leans in towards the mic, a little bit unsteady on her feet. “Coulda done better. On that note…Miss Vanjie out.”

On screen, she sways a little bit, her eyes rolling back and-

Wait. She’d gone and fainted yesterday during the interview?

The camera pans to the floor for a second before focusing on the interviewer again, who looks only slightly alarmed as a medical crew surrounds Vanessa. “Well. That’s one way to make a statement.”

“What the hell?” Vanessa mumbles to herself, because…that’s what she’s viral for? Fainting?

What?

She goes back to the Facetime app where the call with Monique and Monet is still open, twin expectant expressions on their faces. “What’s so exciting about fainting? That’s embarrassing as hell.”

Monique looks delighted by the question. “You see, it’s memeable.”

“Very memeable.” Monet finishes, and Vanessa wants to bonk both of their heads together, really.

Text after text pops up from Monique on the top of the screen, all Twitter links and oh god, Vanessa’s almost afraid to see what they hold.  

But she has to know.

She clicks the first, the caption making her pause.

Interviewer: so why would we hire you?

Me :

There’s a cropped version of the video right underneath, and Vanessa’s not sure why she presses play, really, to hear herself say ‘ Miss Vanjie out’ and faint again.

Doesn’t get any less embarrassing than the first time she’d watched it. She clicks on another that Monique’s sent to her.

My mom: are you gay?

Me:

Vanessa can’t help but giggle because, well, the video does fit. She can’t deny that. She goes through the rest, and the way the captions get better and better is a little infuriating.

Me seeing a person from high school in public:

Me when my mom asks if I took the chicken out of the freezer two hours ago like I was supposed to:

When your professor calls on you in class as you’re about to enter REM sleep:

Good lord. Vanessa really is a meme.

She lets out a groan as she goes back to Facetime, Monique and Monet’s twin cackles an unfortunate soundtrack. “I’m really a meme. I’m a whole ass meme.”

Monet looks almost proud. “Yeah you are. ‘Miss Vanjie’ is trending on Twitter.”

“Okay, but what am I gonna do?” Vanessa almost doesn’t even notice the way that she starts pacing in front of her closet, in line with the way that her thoughts are beginning to race because fuck, this is going to be embarrassing.

Hell, it’s already embarrassing. She’s a meme, in a viral video and she’s trending on Twitter of all things for fainting at an opportune time and her mom’s probably seen it and her coworkers and the entire fucking world, for that matter. Jeez.

What does Brooke even think about all of this?

“You can’t faint your way out of this one, Vanj.” Monique snickers, growing into a full laugh when Vanessa groans, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Just a little too soon for that.”

Monet is oblivious to her internal turmoil, though, her face close to the camera on screen. “You have like, a hundred thousand followers on Instagram now. Pretty damn cool if you ask me.”

“I do? What?” Vanessa goes to the app, which opens for a split second before crashing. Damn. “Who the hell is following me?”

She tries to open it a second time and her notifications page refreshes every few seconds, with likes and comments pouring in on her recent posts. Most of them say ‘Miss Vanjie out ’, a fact that Vanessa does her very best to ignore. But hey, at least Monet is right. She does have a shit ton of followers now.

Woah.

“They want to follow the meme, the myth, the legend, that’s why. I bet you can get sponsorships and shit.” Monet’s looking excited, sharing a gleeful smile with Monique. “Damn. I shoulda fainted on television.”

“I didn’t faint on purpose.” Vanessa groans, flopping back onto her bed and trying to ignore the way her heart is pounding out of her chest. “It just sorta happened.”

It did. Not that Vanessa can remember it in the least, because the evening still feels like a blur in her brain, one that she had tried to bury in the initial embarrassment of losing the match but now, she’s not sure if she can.

It’s going to be a little bit harder to push the events of yesterday behind a wall when the whole world now knows about it. She’s going to need some Men in Black style memory wiping to even think about living in blissful ignorance now.

“Brooke said it was ‘cause you had low blood sugar. She was damn relieved it wasn’t from a concussion.”

Shit. Vanessa didn’t even think of Brooke’s reaction to her fainting, after seeing her dad go through what he did all those years ago-

“I should call her.” Vanessa rushes out, biting her lip. “Talk to you later?”

Monique waves. “See you, meme legend.”  

Vanessa rolls her eyes as she hangs up, trying to wipe her clammy hands on her pants before calling Brooke. She answers on the first ring, her eyebrows creased and a worried look on her face.

“Thank god you’re okay. You feel okay?”

“I’m a meme.”

Brooke’s anxious expression melts away, her eyes beginning to crinkle as she holds back a laugh. “That you are. How did you even manage that?”

“I dunno! I forget most of it!” Vanessa runs a hand through her hair, because hell, that’s a question she wishes she had the answer to. “Did that actually happen?”

“You bet it did. Next time, I’m giving you an extra protein bar before your third match of the day. Your energy was just drained.”

“Speaking of the match…” Vanessa trails off, busying her eyes with her closet to pull out some clothes because what is she supposed to even say, really? “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” The confusion on Brooke’s face is genuine when Vanessa looks back at the screen, her eyebrows creasing together and it’s almost worse, really, to have to actually explain. Pick it apart.

“For losing. For not really taking in the coaching that you were trying to give me between rounds. For being overconfident during the match, I don’t know.” Vanessa lets out a breath. “I just…I feel like I let you down.”

The words really begin to settle in as they leave Vanessa’s lips, crystalizing in the air. This tournament had been the first one of hers that Brooke came to, and she just had to go and lose the last match in a blisteringly pathetic way. Does Brooke regret coaching her? Having her name attached to someone like Vanessa?

Vanessa lets out a breath as the thoughts build upon one another, filling up more and more space in her abdomen, but Brooke shakes her head. “You think I’m disappointed because you lost a match? Unless you’re the Hulk and have something to tell me, it’s impossible to win every single fight that you enter. You’re not invincible, and guess what? Boxing is hard. Really hard. Even making it to the finals on your first try is something that you should be proud of.”

“Yeah?” Vanessa doesn’t mean for her voice to come out so shaky, she really doesn’t.

Brooke for her part smiles, though it doesn’t do much to calm the beating of Vanessa’s heart in her chest. “I, for one, am proud of you. Not only for the matches that you won, but for that last one. Even when it was tough, you kept pushing until the very end. You gave it everything you had.”

Vanessa makes a face. “Quite literally.”

“Had a feeling you were going to make a splash somehow. Didn’t think it would be by becoming a meme.” Brooke keeps a straight face for approximately three seconds before bursting into laughter, and Vanessa groans, flopping back onto her bed.

She’s never, ever, going to live this down. Ever.

“At least it’s a funny meme. Could’ve been worse.” Vanessa sighs.

She supposes she’s lucky it wasn’t as humiliating as it could have been. Though as she’s trying to think about it, Vanessa’s not sure how to make it even more embarrassing. A nip slip? A crowd reaction shot?

“Speaking of which, the gym is getting tweets from news outlets trying to write about it. They want a first hand scoop.” Brooke snorts.

Vanessa raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? Are you kidding? What sort of wack news outlets want to write about a meme?”

“Think of places that start with ‘b’ and rhyme with ‘uzzfeed’.”

“Ah.” Vanessa nods, because that makes more sense. She pauses, looking at the way Brooke’s face is smiling and kind, when she doesn’t necessarily feel like she deserves it. But maybe, Brooke’s just that nice. “Also…thanks. For what you said.”

“I am proud. Real proud.” Brooke’s smile is soft, reaching her eyes, and it makes Vanessa want to reach into the screen, give her a hug. “As far as students go, I got lucky.”

“Even though I turned into a meme?”

“Especially because you turned into a meme. Don’t let the fame get into your head, though. We have practice again bright and early tomorrow.” Brooke clicks her tongue as she winks, and it’s nice, because for a minute, everything just feels normal.

“Looking forward to it.”

Vanessa hangs up the call and maybe she’s feeling a little bit better after talking to Brooke, her heart not quite threatening to break her chest open anymore. Sure, the threads of disbelief are still hanging over her head in webs because this doesn’t feel real, not really, all the notifications on her phone and the way that Monet and Monique had gleefully told her the news, giddiness mixed in with a little bit of jealousy. Vanessa’s not at the point of wanting it, not just yet. She’s not sure if she’s going to get there, just not the way that her friends would.

But hey, maybe it’ll be fun. And she has no other choice but to roll with it, does she?

“What the fuck?”

Alexis’ exclamation of surprise echoes from her bedroom and it’s enough to make Vanessa amble over, see what she’s up to.  “What?”

“How the hell did you get verified on Instagram? Totally not jealous or anything, nope.” Alexis huffs and Vanessa scrambles onto Alexis’ mattress beside her, peering over at her screen.

And there it is. A fancy blue check beside Vanessa’s 245k followers, which, when she refreshes her page, grows to 250k. Holy shit.

“But that means at least two hundred and fifty thousand people have seen that stupid video. Lord almighty.” Vanessa groans, walking over to Alexis’ bed so that she can hide her face in the blankets, as if it will hide her from everything else, too.

Two hundred and fifty thousand people now know what Vanessa looks like, and know about the idiotic things that she tends to say under pressured situations. That many people have decided to follow her on Instagram, which up until now has really only featured makeup looks and silly pictures with her friends.

Alexis pats her shoulder, looking a little too calm for Vanessa’s taste. “Technically the video on Twitter has millions of views, so I’d say the number is a bit higher.”

Vanessa’s stomach turns. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Who said I was trying to do that?” Alexis waves a hand. “Listen, mom and I are the ones you should be thanking. We made you go take boxing classes, right? Now you can be an influencer.”

“You say that as if it’s a good thing.” Vanessa makes a face. A nice gift from them, truly. All Vanessa’s wanted in life. To be a meme of all things, a fucking meme.

One that Bad Bunny follows.

“It’s a great thing. Hey, can I be your momager? Kris Jenner style? Build a Mateo empire and all that?” Alexis’ face lights up and Vanessa has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Her sister never changes.

“You’re not even my mom. Besides, if you were a Kardashian, you’d be Khloe at best.”

Alexis pouts. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Whatever Khloe, this Kim has to head out to work.” Vanessa stretches, lifting herself off the bed to grab her bag as she hears Alexis huff from her position on the mattress.

“Who says you get to be Kim?”

The thing about owning a business is that there is always work to be done.

There are bills to pay. Parents to call. Equipment to order. It never ends, not when Brooke is the sole one responsible for making sure everything gets done the way that it should.

Not that Brooke minds it too much. She likes being at the gym, even if she’s getting work done - the place is always comfortably busy, with classes taking place, athletes training on their own, parents cheering on their kids. The hum of activity in the gym is easy to tune out and becomes white noise that is comforting, a reminder of what she’s used to. The gym is a second home at this point, the banners on the wall and the constant stream of the classes as familiar to her as breathing.

It’s a home that she likes to be in.

So that’s why Brooke is there at 8 p.m. on a weeknight, despite the fact that today is Vanessa’s day off before training starts again tomorrow. She still has things to do in her office, always does and sometimes, it feels better than just sitting at home.

“Three kids fell over dramatically and yelled ‘Miss Vanjie out’ as I walked into the gym just now. Their instructor did not look amused.” Vanessa’s head peeks past the doorway and Brooke ignores the way her chest feels a little bit lighter from hearing her voice, seeing her face. Confirming the fact that she’s still in one piece.

“What are you doing here? It’s your day off.”

Vanessa shrugs, leaning against the doorframe. “I got bored. What are you doing here? Do you live here? Serious question, is there a bunk tucked away somewhere in this office?”

“As convenient as that would be, I haven’t fully lost it yet, so no.” Brooke snorts.

Vanessa plops herself down on the edge of her desk, her matching lilac sweatshirt and sweatpants dwarfing her frame while making her look cozy. “I was going stir crazy after work.”

“Hmm?”

“At home.” Vanessa shrugs, her legs swinging a little as they dangle. “Don’t wanna do any chores, can’t talk to Alexis ‘cause she won’t shut up about the fact that I’m a whole ass meme. Can’t go on social media ‘cause it keeps crashing. Also, some reporters found my number and won’t stop calling me. That’s weird, right? Where’d they find that?”

Vanessa bites her lip as she fiddles with her hands on her lap, and the sight makes Brooke’s chest tighten. Sure, Vanessa is smiles and bravado personified, someone with an uncanny ability to charm the pants off of anyone who interacts with her, but her current situation is…exposing. It’s as if she’s put on display under a lens for the whole world to see and react to and share their thoughts on, and worst of all, it’s not in Vanessa’s control, or anyone’s control for that matter.

And despite Vanessa’s charisma and extroverted personality, Brooke understands how it can be unsettling. She’s been there, after all.

If only Brooke had a way to protect her. She’s her coach, isn’t she? Shouldn’t she know what to do? Except no rulebooks that Brooke has thumbed through have ever come with instructions on what to do when an athlete becomes an internet sensation. Especially when most of the time, athletes are trying to make it big on purpose.

Brooke lifts herself up, ambling around the desk to sit down beside Vanessa. There’s a vulnerability in Vanessa’s eyes that’s not often visible when others are around, like her teammates. No, it’s an expressiveness that Vanessa has allowed Brooke to begin to witness over time - the softer sides of her, the ones that are less polished and ready for an audience, and Brooke doesn’t want to ever take it for granted.

She holds out her hand and Vanessa intertwines their fingers without a second thought, their hands fitting together like pieces of a puzzle despite their difference in size. Vanessa’s palm is warm and there’s no way that Brooke can actually feel her pulse through their grip but from the way that Vanessa’s looking up at her, she wonders if their heartbeats are in sync.

Brooke looks at Vanessa, really looks at her. She’s someone that Brooke has trained for a while now, someone who is trying to convince her to marathon Bad Girls Club, someone who Brooke considers a friend - Vanessa’s her friend, right? Is that what they are? Vanessa texts her memes while she’s at work and makes Brooke laugh more than she ever thought she could during training sessions and that’s what friends are supposed to do, aren’t they? At least, Brooke thinks so. Sure, Vanessa is her athlete and someone that Brooke trains and there’s a certain level of professionalism that goes into a coaching scenario but…it’s different. This is different.

Vanessa is more than just her athlete. She’s someone that Brooke cares about, someone who deserves everything and Brooke just wishes that she could give it to her, make her happy because her smile is the cutest thing and always lights up a room. So it makes sense, then, the way that Brooke’s heart tugs, seeing Vanessa like this, her shoulders slightly slumped and her leg bouncing from anxious energy.

“I wish I could control it, y’know? I feel like it’s a beast that’s definitely outta my skill set ‘cause last I checked, ‘Miss Vanjie’ was still trending on Twitter. How is a dumb meme spreading so fast?” Vanessa pulls out her phone, her eyebrows scrunching together when the screen is already lit up with notifications. “Christ on a bike.”

If only there was a way that Brooke could shield Vanessa from all of this - no, not shield her, but rather help her wield the spotlight that’s been cast on her. Somehow give her a chance to sit in the driver’s seat with control over what her new audience can see. Brooke wracks her brain, trying to think back to her professional boxing days and how she’d managed her career. Well, not that she’d done the managing, Detox had done that for her-

Oh.

“I don’t know if control would be the right word, but managing, maybe? I know someone who might be able to help with that.” Brooke ventures, because hey, it’s been years since she’s talked to Detox, much less been a client of hers but maybe she’ll have some suggestions.

Maybe she’ll even take Vanessa on as a client of her own.

Vanessa raises an eyebrow. “Who? The lord himself so that he can control all of social media?”

“What? No,” Brooke snorts, “though I like that suggestion. I was thinking more in the direction of my old manager.”

Hell, Brooke doesn’t even know if Detox is still in sports management anymore because it’s been years, after all. Though Brooke supposes it’s never a bad idea to at least look into her - having someone that she already knows and trusts is better than a random sleazeball who could be trying to fleece Vanessa for a fat check.

Brooke’s definitely not going to let Vanessa be taken advantage of, that’s for sure.

Vanessa looks unconvinced. “A manager? Slow down, ‘cause I’m not even a pro yet. I’m apparently the most amateur boxer to box this side of the equator, from that tournament. Wouldn’t a whole ass manager be a little fast?”

“First of all, continue that negative self talk, and that’ll translate to more reps during tomorrow’s morning workout.” Brooke gives Vanessa a look and her sheepish smile is enough to make her own expression soften almost immediately.

“Aye aye, captain.”

“Second,” Brooke continues, “you may not be a pro boxer just yet, but you seem to have splashed into the mainstream in a more memorable way than any pro boxer will ever be able to achieve. You have a platform now, and that’s not something that’s easy to get.”

“A platform built on a meme.” Vanessa mumbles, and Brooke nudges her shoulder.

“It’s your platform. Your microphone. Sure, it’s not exactly what you expected, but what big break ever is? It’s your turn to figure out what you want to do with it.”

Vanessa bites her lip. “You make it sound easy.”

“Sure as hell won’t be easy. Fame never really is, honestly. But I’ll be here with you to navigate through it and figure it out. If you’ll have me. Help you discover what kind of stage you want to have.” It’s presumptuous, Brooke knows, because she’s only Vanessa’s coach after all and it’s not like they’ve been working together for years and years, and maybe Vanessa doesn’t even care that much.

But then Vanessa’s throwing her arms around Brooke’s neck, and Brooke’s face is pressed against the soft cotton of her hoodie and it’s funny, really, how well Vanessa fits in her embrace, from the way she almost curls up against her. “You better be. You’re my coach, which means we’re automatically ride or dies, right? Isn’t that how it goes?”

“Is that how you want it to go?”

“Is that how you want it to go?“ Vanessa pulls back and the sudden uncertainty in her eyes makes Brooke want to reach out and smooth over her furrowed brow.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she pulls Vanessa back into a hug. “It’s definitely how I want it to go.”

“Good.” Vanessa’s voice is muffled as she shuffles closer in their hug. “Now call up your friend Detroit or whatever her name is, ‘cause we need her advice.”

“Detox?”

“Close enough.”

Find me at @plastiquetiaras ! Let me know your thoughts if you feel like it

[malfoysmaybank]

Nothing to Lose- JJ Maybank

gif by @rudypankows!!

requested: yes!

Request: Hey!! I’ve had a thought for a JJxReader one shot where they’re either dating, or have an unspoken thing with each other and after the speech in episode one where JJ says he and John B have nothing to lose the reader gets upset and either says something along the lines of you could lose me or JJ includes her in the nothing to lose and she says she could lose him. You’re writting is so good and mine is trash but I would LOVE to see a fic like that. by @jailcalledlife!!

a/n: i love this request! i’m really excited to write this. also, y’all keep requesting JJ and as much as i love him (and i like REALLY love him), i feel like i’m not giving you guys enough diversity! so if you want other characters, let me know! all the characters i write for are on my masterlist <3 thank you for this awesome request and enjoy! warnings: tooth rotting fluff, angst, anxiety attack, typos, slight cursing, and i think that’s it lol.

You’re tuning everything out as you hear JJ and John B talk about their plan with the gold. You’d never tell him, but you were scared that the gold would become his main priority and he’d forget about not only the rest of the Pogues, but you as well.

You and JJ have been together for the past year now. You hated to admit that you’d fallen hard for this boy. You tried so hard to keep your feelings at bay but when you looked into those crystal blue eyes swimming with love, your barriers broke.

“Besides, John B and I? We have nothing to lose.” Your eyes widened at his words. Tears were swimming in your eyes and you thanked god for the inventions of sunglasses. You didn’t say anything, staying quiet and hidden behind your book. Your mind raced as you replayed his words. “...nothing to lose.” Were you nothing? Was he not worried to lose you? Did he even love you? You quickly excused yourself, saying you had to use the bathroom.

As soon as the bathroom door closed, silent sobs racked your body. You tried to convince yourself deep down that he wasn’t thinking straight, that he just forgot for a minute. But no matter how much you thought it, you couldn’t get the thought out of your head that maybe he meant it. You started having a full out anxiety attack. Tears streamed down your face, the air felt thicker, you had a raging headache. You thought you were dying.

A knock came from the door. “Y/N hurry- baby? are you okay?” JJ. You tried to respond but it came out more as a sob. “I’m coming in, okay?” The door swung open and JJ quickly sat down next to you, pulling you into him. You straddled his lap and buried your face in his chest. “Hey, hey. You’re okay. Breathe with me, okay?” You nodded. “Okay, breathe in. 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Breathe out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. See? You’ve got it. You’re okay, bub.” He shushed you and kissed your hair.

“Now, can you tell me what’s wrong or do you need a minute?” You took a shaky breath in and he held you a little tighter. “That’s okay, take all the time you need, baby.” You lifted your head, revealing your puffy eyes and red nose. He thought you looked so gorgeous in this moment, your hair slightly frizzy from the humid summer air and your cheeks rosy from the sun.

“When you were talking about your plans with the gold, you said you had nothing to lose. And you probably didn’t mean for it to sound like this but I just need you to say it out loud, would you care if you lost me?” You finally looked up at his eyes. Damn, those eyes. He pulled you back into his embrace, holding you so tight, afraid if he let go, you’d disappear into thin air.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’d be lost without you. Don’t ever think for a second that I don’t love you. There are 4 people I’m scared of losing. 3 being John B, Pope, and Kie.” He pulled you back to look at him. “And the one left, the most special one...” He touched the tip of your nose with his pointer finger and made a “boop!” sound, making you giggle. He loved it when you giggled. “...is you. If you ever even think for a millisecond that I don’t love you...” He started tickling your waist, making you a giggling mess. “I will murder you!” He said, voice muffled through his smile. “JJ! JJ stop it!” You screamed, still laughing.

After a minute, he finally stopped and helped you up off the bathroom floor. Suddenly he picked you up, threw you over his shoulder, and ran outside. He got to the end of the dock when you said “JJ! Put me down!” He laughed and said “Alright, if that’s what you want!” He threw you off his shoulder and into the cold water. As the water washed over you, you had an idea.

You used to swim before moving to the Outer Banks, so you could hold your breath for long periods of time. JJ didn’t know this, you had moved here at a young age but this was one of the things you remembered from your old town.

When JJ realized you hadn’t come up for a while, he didn’t hesitate in taking off his shirt and jumping in after you. He found you quickly and dragged you to the surface by your waist. When you surfaced, you let out a huge laugh.

“You are so gullible! I used to swim, I’m good at holding my breath.” You said between laughs, tears building in your eyes as you held your sides from laughing so hard. “Yeah man, you’re hella whipped.” You heard Pope say. You looked up at all the Pogues who just saw the whole encounter. They all burst out in laughter with you, including JJ.

“Okay, you got me that time.” He said. “Let’s go inside, I’m freezing!” You said. JJ pulled your shivering figure into his side. After getting to his room in the Chateau, he tossed you a pair of leggings you left there a couple days ago, your cute grey fox slippers (that you just kept in his room for some reason), and one of his shirts. You changed and brushed your hair.

As you walked back into his room, you saw him on the bed, holding his arms out with grabby hands. “I demand cuddles.” He said and you complied, getting in bed. He pulled his arms around your waist, his head nuzzled into your neck. “Awe, bubba. Look at you being all soft and needy.” you said, your hands finding the messy blond hair that you adored. “Only for you, babe.” He said, gently kissing your neck.

“I really do love you, Y/N. So fucking much.” He said, his words sincere. “I love you too, JJ.” You said, kissing his hair. And you fell asleep like that. Listening to each other’s voices, relishing the feeling of love and adoration towards the other.

———————————————————————

a/n: i really like how i write this! i also saw this same request on someone else’s page and i also really like how they wrote it, go give @jjsmaybcnk’s version some love! also please don’t request the exact same thing to multiple creators, it mixes ideas and makes it way more likely for copies of stories and confusion! anyways i hope you like this! i worked really hard on this <3

[superbataddicted]

Writer’s Month 2020 (Day 5)

Day 5 Prompt: Soulmates

Pairing: Superbat

Title: The Artist and his Florist - Chapter 5 - Finding Out 

They met at a café a few blocks away. Dick and Jon were there too as Bruce, still wary of Clark, had not wanted to go alone.

It was supposed to be Alfred there and not Dick.. However, Alfred (who had flown back with him) had turned grim at the sight of his apartment (Dick was terrible at housekeeping). He had then told Bruce that he would be busy before donning his apron and gloves. So Dick became his chaperone instead and somehow Jon had come along as well.

Through the glass front of the café, Bruce could see the two of them chatting away. That was Bruce’s idea – to have them seated inside while he and Clark took an outdoor table. In that way, he could still have some privacy and should anything go awry, his escape route would be obstacle-free.  

“So we were really gods once?”

Bruce finally broke the heavy silence that hung over their table. Clark carefully nodded his head, afraid that any sudden movement of his might frighten Bruce away.

“And we had a fling which was a no-no for the gods?”

“It wasn’t a fling!” Clark spoke fiercely, “It was true love and we’re the first soulmates ever.”

Bruce snorted, mocking and derisive. Despite all that Alfred had told him, he just couldn’t buy into the story. It was just too damn fantastical to be real.  

“Please...I know it all sounded so mad but it’s the truth. I fell in love with you and I do love you. I love you so much, Brug.”

The intensity of Clark’s emotions. That strange name that seemed alien yet familiar. And all of a sudden, Bruce was drowning in a sea of feelings, besieged by a desperate yearning for something which Bruce had no idea what it was. Shocked to find tears welling up in his eyes, Bruce quickly looked away, blinking furiously to keep them at bay.  

“So how did we meet?” he blurted out the first question that came to his head as he tried to compose himself. Through the reflection in the shop’s front, he could see Clark brightening up.

“By accident actually. I was passing through when I heard a voice. That caught me by surprise because your system then was just a baby. I hadn’t expected anyone to be there.”

Clark’s smile was fond and his eyes soft as he remembered. He was so young then zipping through space to paint the suns and the galaxies.

“You yelled at me when we first met,” Clark chuckled, “You told me to get out because I was disrupting your work.”

Bruce frowned, finding it all so weird – listening to someone describe something you did but which you had no recollection of.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you fell in love. That’s so lame.”

“No, not at first,” Clark shook his head, “But you caught my curiosity.”

“With a yell?” Bruce stared at Clark, incredulity writ on his face, “Your life must have been real dull.”

“No...it’s not just that, No one had spoken to me in that manner. Everyone’s so polite and respectful and wary.”

Clark paused seeing that Bruce still didn’t quite understand.

“Let me try again,” he straightened up in his seat, “Back then, I’m one of the Greater Gods, sort of like royalty and you’re like, how to say...”

“Peasants?”

“I won’t put it like that. Maybe, subordinate will be a closer fit. Anyway, they’ll never talk to us like that for fear of our powers. We’re not very nice entities and we can be quite nasty if offended.”

Clark paused, eyes distant as he became lost in his memories.

“And you just hang around till we...” Bruce drew a heart in the air with his fingers.

Clark smiled, glad to see Bruce less wary of him.

“No, but I kept taking detours so that I can pass by. The thought of you alone in the dark and I just can’t let you be. Do you know that I painted the moon for you but you weren’t very pleased.”

Clark laughed, eyes crinkling up and Bruce’s heartrate sped up. He quickly cleared his throat, disconcerted by his bodily response.

“So when did Alfred come into the picture?”

And Clark’s mirth vanished, making Bruce regret asking that question.

“I knew it was a matter of time before they found out. We, gods aren’t suppose to fall in love. It’s distracting and She doesn’t like it. And She’ll wipe out your existence. She has that much power.”

Clark was trembling, his fists clenched.

“So I begged Alfred to bind our souls together. I begged him even though I knew he shouldn’t abuse his powers like that,” Clark looked at the tattoos on both his and Bruce’s arms, “Alfred warned us it had never been done and we might die. But we went ahead anyway and it worked.”

A brief smile flashed before it disappeared again from Clark’s face.

“I was stupid to think that it would be enough to protect us.”

“What did She do?” Bruce probed gently.

And Clark’s eyes were dark and beak as he looked at Bruce, “She couldn’t remove the soul marks so She left me mine and sealed yours instead. Then she cast both you and Alfred out.”

 (Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 ,  Chapter 3 , Chapter 4)

(Chapter 6 - Ocean)

[teatitty]

SO ABOUT BRUCE’S LOVE-INTERESTS

First of all I think we need to address why he has so many compared to other DC characters. Well, my good people, this is very simple: his writers are bad. A lot of his love-interests simply existed for the sake of a story and most of the time the reason they don’t work out is because, and I’m not bullshitting here, it’s part of Batman’s nature to be so obssessed with solving crime that he can’t maintain a serious relationship with women. And Bruce Wayne’s relationships fail because of his constant absences and secrets.

That being said, sometimes his relationships fail for other reasons. So let’s get this started shall we?

Category One: His Major Relationships

These are his relationships that have consistently shown up in many continuities and were, in fact, attempts on giving him some kind of serious girlfriend, regardless of how the writers failed.

1: Julie Madison. Julie’s character has changed a lot in the different continuities but originally she was an actress who broke up with Bruce because he refused to stop his “playboy ways” even when she confronted him about them. In one version she goes on to marry a man in Europe. In New Earth her hair was changed from black to auburn and, instead of being an actress, she was the daughter of an entrepeneur. 

She broke up with Bruce when she learned he was Batman and that her father had been killed as a result of Batman’s action. She moved to Africa and became a missionary. In current continuity, Julie is an artist and her father is an arms dealer who sold the gun that was used to kill Bruce’s parents. They first dated as teens but met again when Bruce lost his memories (amnesia stories yaaay). Bruce was so passionately in love with her, that he was even ready to settle down and marry her. Unfortunately, in his absence, Gotham’s crime had skyrocketed and Alfred and Julie had to, regretfully, give him his memories back so he could be Batman once more. This also erased his memory of being with Julie.

In The New Batman Adventures comics, Bruce and Julie dated right up until Bruce found out she was only after his fortune. That’s just how it be in comics sometimes. She also appeared in the Batman And Robin movie but her character added little to the plot and most of her scenes ended up being edited out in the final cut.

2: Victoria/Vicki Vale. Vicki Vale was created to be Bruce’s version of Lois Lane (yeah it’s no wonder this never worked). They got involved because she made it her life’s mission to expose Batman’s identity and ended up dating Bruce in the process (it’s also worth noting she was already suspicious of him being Batman). Her character hasn’t had a lot of changed over the years and, surprisingly, has managed to keep most of her original characterization. 

She disappeared from the comics when Julius Schwartz took over the editorial office in 1964. She was re-introduced in the early 1980′s by Gerry Conway but idea was ill-advised as her character had very little development and was instead the same old concept of someone finding out Bruce’s identity. Doug Moench was mainly responsible for slowly removing her as Bruce’s love-interest, though she has since returned to that role. In Batman: The Road Home, Vicki finally got proof that Bruce was Batman but decided to keep it to herself and instead became a confidante and ally of the batfamily, rather then Bruce’s girlfriend.

She appeared in Tim Burton’s Batman as well, but was a damsel in distress throughout the film and only learned his identity through happenstance rather then because she was seeking it out.

In various other continuities, she’s been shown as an occasional date for Bruce Wayne.

3: Selina Kyle needs to introduction but her influence in his life is so long and extensive she’d need a post of her own to cover it all. You’ll be pleased to know that there have been quite a few stories where they’ve managed to sustain a relationship and be happy together.

4: Talia Al Ghul. Obviously we all know her for being Damian’s mother, whoever Ra’s himself has encouraged her relationship with Bruce, because he wants to try and recruit Batman into the League of Assassin’s.

Originally, Talia was very devoted to Bruce and loved him as much as she loved her own father, even saving his life on multiple occasion’s, though she always returned to her father’s side afterwards. They had a sexual encounter that lead to the birth of Damian, as we all know, but over time Talia became more antagonistic towards Bruce, seeking to fulfill her father’s goals and rule with Batman by her side instead. However, he rejected her proposal and she declared war on him (yikes.)

In Batman: The Animated Series, her character was practically the same as her comic iteration. She returned in Batman Beyond where Bruce was horrified to learn that she’d given up her body for her father (yeah. That’s a thing).

In Batman: Arkham City, Talia and Bruce had a romantic background and cared very deeply for eachother, even willing to risk their lived to save the other’s.

On Earth-16, Bruce broke all ties with Talia due to her conflicting morals; her love for Bruce vs her loyalty to Ra’s. 

In the Dark Knight Rises film, Talia is an executive member of Wayne Enterprises who becomes romantically involved with Bruce. She eventually takes over the company and tries to destroy Gotham per her father’s mad design.

Category Two: Minor Relationships

These are his love-interests who have only appeared sporadically as options for him over the years, rather then being a consistent thing.

1: Amina Franklin. Originally someone who worked as a nurse at Leslie Thompkins’ clinic, Amina met Bruce at a party and they started dating shortly after. Her brother, Wayne Franklin (I know), was the villain called Grotesk (original name there buddy) and Amina was killed during a confrontation between him and Bruce.

2: April Clarkson (Midnight). If the name Midnight strikes any familiarity to you, then you’ll know who April is. She was a GCPD officer who briefly dated Bruce and helped Batman track down the gruesome murderer Midnight (yeah his track record is great isn’t it? In her defense April only killed the corrupt dudes but like. Still). Bruce was pretty torn up when he learned this because he had very strong feelings for her! Alas what can ya do, right?

3: Bekka. Bekka saved Batman’s life from Darkseid’s forces on the planet Tartarus and the two shared a mutual attraction (Bekka is also Orion’s wife. Yikes.) She was later murdered (in my mother’s own words “another one bites the dust”).

4: Black Canary. Yes seriously. Despite her long-standing romance with Green Arrow, Dinah has shown attraction to Bruce on numerous occasion’s and the two have even shared kisses before (Batman: Brave and Bold #166 and Birds of Prey #90). On Earth’s 31 and 37 this attraction is way stronger.

5: Charlotte Rivers. A news reporter in Gotham, Charlotte wanted to leave the city which put a rift between her and Bruce. After her twin sister, Jill, made an attempt on her life, Charlotte dumped Bruce and took a job offer in Paris. Ouch.

6: Dawn Golden. Dawn was the daughter of cult leader Aleister Golden, who practiced Dark Magic. Dawn was a childhood friend of Bruce’s who dated him in college and apparently broke his heart (lmao). She became a socialite and then her dad murdered her as part of a dark ritual to give himself eternal life. Yeah.

7: Harley Quinn. YEP HERE’S ANOTHER ONE. Harley has had occasional romantic encounters with Batman over the years, specifically in the Animated Series when she kissed him in the episode Harley’s Holiday. In recent N52 canon, there’s been a couple of stories where Harley has ended up infatuated with Batman or Bruce Wayne. They’re all one-sided feelings as far as we know, however.

8: Jaina Hudson (White Rabbit). Another name that might be familiar to those who know Bruce’s villains. Jaina was a socialite of Indian descent who met Bruce at a charity fundraiser. Later Bruce found out she could duplicate herself into two beings: herself and the scantily clad (its comics what do we expect?) criminal White Rabbit, who had, more than once, lured him to other villains like Joker and Bane.

9: Jezebel Jet. A wealthy woman of African descent, Jezebel was a model who owned an African province and secretly worked for Black Glove. She gained Bruce’s love as a ploy to destroy him during Batman R.I.P and was later killed on Talia’s orders. 

10: Jillian Maxwell. Jillian met Bruce at a costume party in Batman: Legends of The Dark Knight Halloween Special #1 (wow thats long). It turned out, however, that she was actually a woman who used many different personas to seduce wealthy men before orchestrating events that led to their deaths so she could take their wealth. Wild. When Alfred told him this, Bruce was heartbroken. Jillian used the name Aubrey Marguerite in Brazil and Bruce, as Batman, tracked her down and left a note ordering her to confess her sins. 

11: Julia Pennyworth. Daughter of Alfred and French Resistance fighter Mademoiselle Marie, Julia was introduced to the comics in by Doug Moench in the early 1980′s. Efforts to make her a romantic partner for Bruce proved difficult with the presence of Noctura and Vicki Vale (guess why he writ her out of comics lol).

12: Kathy Kane (Batwoman). Strap in lads this one gets Weird. Kathy was made in the Silver Age to be Batman’s female counterpart and romantic partner. Many stories showing the two getting married were published though in the main canon at the time her feelings for him were one-sided. On Earth-Two, Kathy resigned herself to live without his love and on Earth One she was murdered by the League of Assassins. Grant Morrison wrote stories featuring her in New Earth canon bc he liked using Silver Age comics for inspiration. She was eventually replaced by Katherine “Kate” Kane, a lesbian who got discharged from the military for homosexual conduct (in New Earth as well). In Prime Earth canon, Kate Kane is Bruce’s cousin. So yeah. There’s that.

13: Linda Page. Adapted from Batman serial (1943), Linda came into the comics during the Golden Age and was a former socialite who worked as a nurse for the elderly, disproving the idea that rich women were lazy and spoiled. She dated Bruce for a few issues but fell through the cracks and disappeared.

14: Lorna Shore. Lorna is a Museum Curator from the Lovers and Madmen story in Batman Confidential. Her relationship with Bruce was love at first sight and he was able to find peace with her for the first time since his parents’ murder (look. I know). However, after his first encounter with Joker, Bruce broke off their relationship to keep her safe and Lorna left Gotham soon after feeling that the city was no longer safe bc of Batman and Joker.

15: Mallory Moxon. Daughter of mob boss Lew Moxon, Mallory was a childhood friend of Bruce’s who dated him for a short time when they were kids (I know) before they drifted apart. They dated again as adults even while Bruce suspected her of continuing her father’s criminal operation. He never found conclusive proof.

16: Natalia Knight (Noctura). Another character created by Doug Moench in the early 1980′s, Natalia was the most remarkable of Batman’s love-interest’s at the time. A jewel thief who briefly adopted Jason Todd and knew Bruce’s identity, Natalia had a rare light sensitivity disease that bleached her skin white. She used a special narcotic perfume that caused men to fall in love with her and Bruce was no exception (yeah...). They started dating because they were both “equally fascinated” by eachother (Y E A H). Bruce realized his love for her was because of the perfume and struggled to stop thinking about her. Nocturna was stabbed by her brother during Crisis on Infinte Earths and floated into the sky on her balloon, presumed to be dead. Other versions of her character have appeared since but none of them are the same as the original pre-Crisis version. 

17: Natalya Trusevich. A Ukranian pianist, Natalya grew frustrated with Bruce’s closed-off demeanour until Alfred had him reveal his secret to her. Abducted by Mad Hatter soon after, Natalya was tortured in an attempt to get her to spill Batman’s identity. When she refused, Mad Hatter threw her off the helicopter to her death.

18: Pamela Isley (Poison Ivy). Here we go again lads. Ivy, as we all know, uses seduction and pheromones to get men to fall for her and obey her commands. This is no different with Batman, who initially confused the lust caused by her methods for love. Ivy has a love/hate relationship with him: sometimes she claims to love him and desires his affection and other times she has no problem wanting him dead. They had a brief but genuine relationship when Bruce cured her condition but this ended when Pamela seemingly died trying to turn herself back into Poison Ivy. Yikes. 

19: Rachel Caspian. In Batman: Year Two, Bruce fell in love with Rachel. Unfortunately her dad moonlighted as a murderous vigilante who committed suicide. Bruce was prepared to end his crime-fighting career to marry her but Rachel broke off their engagement and enrolled into a nunnery to pay her father’s penance after learning of his evil deeds.

20: Sasha Bordeaux. Assigned as his bodyguard, Sasha deduced Bruce’s identity as Batman and briefly fought at his side. Framed for the murder of Bruce’s girlfriend, Vesper Fairchild, Sasha later joined Maxwell Lord’s Checkmate Organization. She was turned into a Cyborg during The OMAC Project but this was resolved later. Though she did kiss Bruce near the end of OMAC Project their relationship passed on.

21: Silver St. Cloud. Appearing in the late 1970′s in the story Strange Apparitions, Silver was a socialite who, despite deducing Bruce was Batman, couldn’t handle dating someone with such a dangerous life-style (fair enough actually). She left Gotham but returned years later in Batman: Dark Detective where she and Bruce tried to make a serious romance work. This fell apart after she was kidnapped by Joker and later on Silver was murdered by the criminal Onomatopeia.

22: Shondra Kinsolving. A psychic and half-sister of Benedict Asp, Shondra had a brief romance with Bruce when she helped heal him after Bane broke his back. Before they could fully commit to eachother, Benedict kidnapped her and turned her abilities to evil use. Batman defeated him but the damage to Shondra’s mind was too great and, after healing Bruce’s injuries, her psyche regressed back to childhood. Bruce paid for her to have the best intensive care for the rest of her life in a psychiatric institution.

23: Vesper Fairchild. A popular radio host in Gotham, Doug Moench (jeez dude chill) established her romance with Bruce during his second run of Batman in the 1990′s. During the No Man’s Land Crisis, Vesper left Gotham and was killed by David Cain on Lex’s orders. This started the Bruce Wayne: Fugitive storyline.

24: Diana Prince (Wonder Woman). Briefly dating in the comics, nothing actually came of their romance and they both decided to simply stay good friends. They did, however, still care deeply for one another and it was this love that allowed Diana to become a Star Sapphire during the Blackest Night storyline. They were also paired together in Justice League Animated. 

25: Zatanna Zatara. Bet you weren’t expecting this one huh? The first time they had romantic interest was in Batman: The Animated Series where they met in their youth. Bruce gave priority to pursuing his training to becoming Batman and they met again as adults but nothing came of their interest. This was later introduced in the comics. They had a major falling out when Bruce discovered Zatanna had windwiped him after he’d caught her mindwiping Doctor Light at the JL’s instruction. Bruce made it clear he didn’t trust her anymore but they later resolved the issue and became close friends again.

Category Three: Other Media

These are still minor relationships but as a whole they didn’t really happen during main continuities. Basically these are romances specifically from films, crossovers and the DCAU.

1: Andrea Beaumont. In Batman: Mask of The Phantasm, Andrea was engaged to Bruce before he became Batman but she broke off said engagement when she fled the country with her father to escape the mob. She then became the title villain of the film.

2: Barbara Gordon (Batgirl). Probably the most infamous for making everyone go “wtf”, Barbara had a heavily implied past relationship with Bruce in Batman Beyond and had sex with Bruce on a rooftop in the animated Killing Joke adaptation.

3: Lois Lane. In a crossover between The New Batman Adventures and Superman: The Animated Series, Bruce and Lois dated eachother to Superman’s annoyance but Lois broke up with him after learning his identity as Batman. During a 3-4 issue long amnesia storyline in the Batman/Superman teamup comic, they also shared romantic feelings for eachother and kissed right before Bruce restored his own memories (dont. Ask).

4: Rachel Dawes. She was his childhood friend and love-interest in the Dark Knight Trilogy. Like. That’s it. 

And there you have it! All of Bruce’s gf’s aired out for everyone to screw their noses over! This wasn’t worth any of my attention but fuck it! It’s done!

[abcreid]

Alive or Not

Derek Morgan x Reader!

Hi all this is my first time writing about Derek Morgan. And this is a 600 followers angst writting challenge for @literallyprentissstwin with a prompt “Hang on. You’re gonna be ok. Keep breathing.“ i love angst but idk how to make angst.

I have to remind you all that English is not my main language, so there’s gonna be mistakes, wrong choice of words, lack of vocabs, etc etc etc. and I’m really sorry for that. I really try my best and i hope you all enjoy it!

Masterlist ••• Challenge

- - -

“Hotch, let us go to the location.” You begged him hard. You glanced at Derek for seconds and look back to the road.

“No, i won’t jeopardize you two. He’s a very dangerous.”

You sighed. “I’m with Derek, okay? We are the closest to the place, like only 5 minutes. Okay? I promise we will be alright. Okay Hotch?!”

“Sure, we’ll be there in 20. Be safe.” He finally agreed and you cheer up. You and Derek are on your way to police station when Hotch called you that they found the unsub’s location.

“C’mon baby boy, lets go!” You slap his right arm. He just laugh and drive faster.

5 minutes later you two arrived in the location Hotch gave you.

We both stares in shock. “God damn, it’s a big house.” Derek talks. You just nodded slow. It’s gonna be a hell of a long night.

“Yes it is. You take left, i take right.” You take out your gun and pointing it straight.

He lower his gun. “Shouldn’t we not separate? You heard Hotch. This unsub is dangerous.”

You put your gun and hug him hard.” It will take a very long time to get him, baby. We should separate. I will be okay. Now go.”

You walk to the right side of the house. This house is massive big. You could lost if you didn’t hold the blueprint and you don’t have it now and you are definitely lost. The cold air pierces your skin. You not wearing a long sleeve but only a t-shirt. Your heart beat fast and you can’t control your breath.

This unsub killed 3 feds and 2 civilians. Mutilation their hands and burn it beside their dead body. He won’t hesitate kill anyone who walk into his was.

Your left hand holding flashlight tight and your right hand holding your gun. But your hands are shaking because of this cold situation. You really don’t know what’s in this house, and you don’t know where is the unsub. You feel little dizzy because you havent eat any food and you only drank tea.

“throw your weapon to the far end of the room or i will blow your head now without hesitation, agent.” You can feel a cold tip of the weapon he put in your scalp. You have no choice but throw your gun, but not your flashlight. You turn slowly until you face him.

“So happy to see you, agent YLN. I know you. You are the one who wants to catch me right? I saw your car outside.” He holds the gun stand still pointing at your head. You are trying to manage your breath but you can’t. Your body is shaking and Derek is not here without you. You really wants to scream his name but he will shoot you immediately. “You saw what i did to feds, huh? I killed them, I cut their hands, i burned it. It could happen to you, YLN. But i won’t. I don’t want to see you die fast. I want to see you suffer first.”

When he lower his gun to take his sword, you punch his face hard with your flashlight and you run. But it’s too late, before you could run, he stab your stomach with the sword.

“Arrghh...,” you yelled as loud as you can because the sword penetrating into your back.

That unsub just runaway left you on the ground crying in pain.

“Derek. Derek.” You yelled his name so he could come to you.

“YN! Oh My God!” Derek showed of from nowhere and knee beside you. “Oh God baby what did he do to you? Omg.” He reach his phone and calling someone. “Hotch where are you? YN is injures and she needs medication. Faster Hotch. She losses so much blood.”

He yelled at Hotch and hung up the call.

“YN... YN look at me, look at me baby. You can make it, medic will be here in minutes.” He panics more than he ever did. He never had this experience before.

“Derek, please stay with me. It hurts...,” you keep touching your wound and you tried to pull the sword but you can’t. “Can you do me a favor? Please tell Penelope that I’m-“

“What are you talking about? You can tell her by yourself. Please YN don’t be like you are going to leave me baby.”

“Just listen baby. Tell her I’m sorry for... stealing her man from her... haha...” you laugh weakly but he’s not respond it. “Tell Rossi I’m sorry for broke his frame. Tell Hotch I’m sorry for being stubborn agent, i never listen to him. Tell Spencer JJ and Emily i love them...” Your eyes are turn to close but Derek wakes you again.

“YN... YN... don’t close your eyes... just hang on. You’re gonna be ok. Keep breathing and look at me. Just focus on me sweetheart... hey baby eyes on me.” You look at his eyes but you feel you want to close your eyes so bad. “Tell me... tell me something i don’t know....”

You smirk. “I’m not Spencer... uh Derek... whether I’m gonna make it or not... i have to tell you this... I’m pregnant....”

[poorquentyn]

Remember Your Name, Part 3: When That Other Man Had Come This Way

Series so far here

“That era has passed. Nothing that belonged to it exists anymore.”

At the end of In the Mood for Love, the film’s protagonist visits the ruins of Angkor Wat. He’d earlier mused to a friend about how back in the day, if you had a secret burning inside that you couldn’t bring yourself to share, you dug a shallow hole into a tree and whispered your secret into it, filling the hole with mud afterwards to keep the truth at bay.

But when our hero decides to try and leave behind the story of forsaken love we saw unfold over the course of the movie, he does not seek out a living thing that can survive and change and grow. He instead unburdens himself to a ruin: a monument to the ravages wrought and distances forged by time. In the sequel 2046, he disappears into the rose-colored fog within, surrounded by his ghosts on parade. Try as he might, he could not seal them away forever.

I have come this way before. It was a dangerous thought, and he regretted it at once.

“No,” he said, “no, that was some other man, that was before you knew your name.” His name was Reek. He had to remember that. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with leek. When that other man had come this way, an army had followed close behind him, the great host of the north riding to war beneath the grey-and-white banners of House Stark. Reek rode alone, clutching a peace banner on a pinewood staff. When that other man had come this way, he had been mounted on a courser, swift and spirited. Reek rode a broken-down stot, all skin and bone and ribs, and he rode her slowly for fear he might fall off. The other man had been a good rider, but Reek was uneasy on horseback. It had been so long. He was no rider. He was not even a man. He was Lord Ramsay’s creature, lower than a dog, a worm in human skin. “You will pretend to be a prince,” Lord Ramsay told him last night, as Reek was soaking in a tub of scalding water, “but we know the truth. You’re Reek. You’ll always be Reek, no matter how sweet you smell. Your nose may lie to you. Remember your name. Remember who you are.”

“Reek,” he said. “Your Reek.”

The Drunkard’s Tower leaned as if it were about to collapse, just as it had for half a thousand years. The Children’s Tower thrust into the sky as straight as a spear, but its shattered top was open to the wind and rain. The Gatehouse Tower, squat and wide, was the largest of the three, slimy with moss, a gnarled tree growing sideways from the stones of its north side, fragments of broken wall still standing to the east and west. The Karstarks took the Drunkard’s Tower and the Umbers the Children’s Tower, he recalled. Robb claimed the Gatehouse Tower for his own. If he closed his eyes, he could see the banners in his mind’s eye, snapping bravely in a brisk north wind. All gone now, all fallen.

Memory and identity are inextricable. Who you were informs who you are, and who you are invariably filters your perspective on who you were. The weight of backstory has always been one of ASOIAF’s central claims to profundity. R+L=J, the story’s central revelation and the beating heart of the fandom, is also the burdensome duty that defined our fakeout protagonist Eddard Stark. What makes Ned’s life so meaningful is that he put it all on the line not to keep the secret that his purported bastard Jon is in fact his sister Lyanna’s son by Rhaegar Targaryen, but in the name of the values that keeping that secret instilled in him.

Time was perilously short. The king would return from his hunt soon, and honor would require Ned to go to him with all he had learned. Vayon Poole had arranged for Sansa and Arya to sail on the Wind Witch out of Braavos, three days hence. They would be back at Winterfell before the harvest. Ned could no longer use his concern for their safety to excuse his delay.

Yet last night he had dreamt of Rhaegar's children. Lord Tywin had laid the bodies beneath the Iron Throne, wrapped in the crimson cloaks of his house guard. That was clever of him; the blood did not show so badly against the red cloth. The little princess had been barefoot, still dressed in her bed gown, and the boy…the boy…                 

Ned could not let that happen again. The realm could not withstand a second mad king, another dance of blood and vengeance. He must find some way to save the children.

Jaime floats in heat and memory in the Harrenhal bathtubs, the truth finally swimming to the surface; Barbrey stares deep into a dead man’s face, the pleasure and pain of it eternally intermingled; Robert himself admits that all he wants most is to leave behind the crown it was all ostensibly for. They all sing the same sad song, the one Reek sings as he rides fearfully into Theon Greyjoy’s past at Moat Cailin: I tried to grasp a star, overreached, and fell. They followed the red comet, over the edge. Their songs broke, and broke them in their fall.

Following on Theon briefly coming unstuck in time in his first ADWD chapter, Reek II builds on that disorientation by externalizing it onto his environment. The chapter is thick with memory and riddled with decay, all swathes of mist that give way to fountains of blood, because that’s what the inside of Theon Greyjoy’s head looks like. That opening chapter in the Dreadfort gave us a blood-curdling glimpse of the crucible in which Theon became Reek before forcing him out of it; now, the story goes widescreen, taking in how the North has changed along with our POV since last he stepped out into it.

The hall was dark stone, high ceilinged and drafty, full of drifting smoke, its stone walls spotted by huge patches of pale lichen. A peat fire burned low in a hearth blackened by the hotter blazes of years past. A massive table of carved stone filled the chamber, as it had for centuries. There was where I sat, the last time I was here, he remembered. Robb was at the head of the table, with the Greatjon to his right and Roose Bolton on his left. The Glovers sat next to Helman Tallhart. Karstark and his sons were across from them.

The reference to time’s fire in which we burn (“blackened by the hotter blazes of years past”), the epochal weight of the table filling the chamber “as it had for centuries,” the evocation of the ghosts that haunt Theon--all of it grounds the business of the plot in memory and time, and thus in what’s happened to our POV. 

Theon smiled. Reek cannot. Theon had friends. Reek is a pariah. Theon came to Moat Cailin with an army. Now, that army is dead and gone, except for those who turned on the rest...just as he did. Moat Cailin has been made a ruin all over again, defeat and despair folded into it like Lannister crimson into Stark steel, a testament like Tristifer’s tomb to a shattered kingdom. Theon helped shatter it, and now he stumbles back shattered to help melt down what’s left. He is Moat Cailin, more or less, the broken towers a misty mirror for our broken man, the splintered teeth of his smile writ large. The fog that cloaks the fortress reflects how he’s been forced to compartmentalize his past, which is now screaming its way to the surface. There are ghosts in Moat Cailin, and he is one of them.

(image by warsandpoliticsoficeandfire.wordpress.com)

This sense of desolation and loss is mirrored in the chapter’s purpose in the larger plot. The standoff between the Boltons and the Ironborn over the Moat (and by extension, the North as a whole) is little more than a feast for crows. Both sides went for the direwolf’s throat with no higher cause than plunder and the pleasure of it; all they’re fighting over is who did it more successfully. The Ironborn here were left to rot by their Lord Captain when he went chasing his brother’s crown...

“Victarion commanded us to hold, he did. I heard him with my own ears. Hold here till I return, he told Kenning.”

“Aye,” said the one-armed man. “That’s what he said. The kingsmoot called, but he swore that he’d be back, with a driftwood crown upon his head and a thousand men behind him.”

“My uncle is never coming back,” Reek told them. “The kingsmoot crowned his brother Euron, and the Crow’s Eye has other wars to fight. You think my uncle values you? He doesn’t. You are the ones he left behind to die. He scraped you off the same way he scrapes mud off his boots when he wades ashore.”

Those words struck home. He could see it in their eyes, in the way they looked at one another or frowned above their cups. They all feared they’d been abandoned, but it took me to turn fear into certainty. These were not the kin of famous captains nor the blood of the great Houses of the Iron Islands. These were the sons of thralls and salt wives.

...and the Dreadfort men can’t lay any credible claim to be acting as defenders of the North from the reaving invaders, given the Northern blood they’ve both happily spilled throughout. (Those who hunt people for sport shouldn’t throw stones, and all that.) Ramsay in this chapter is merely mopping up after and reaping the benefits of the hard-earned victory won by Howland Reed and his guerilla fighters, and even that he’s not doing himself, but forcing a helpless tortured prisoner to do for him. The Bastard’s unspeakably hideous treatment of the Ironborn after they surrender to him in good faith is the punchline to a very dark joke, poisoned icing on bitter cake. And of course, it’s all in the service of welcoming an army soaked in the blood of the men and women with whom they sat down to dinner, as allies, as friends, as guests at a wedding.

Three days later, the vanguard of Roose Bolton’s host threaded its way through the ruins and past the row of grisly sentinels—four hundred mounted Freys clad in blue and grey, their spearpoints glittering whenever the sun broke through the clouds. Two of old Lord Walder’s sons led the van. One was brawny, with a massive jut of jaw and arms thick with muscle. The other had hungry eyes close-set above a pointed nose, a thin brown beard that did not quite conceal the weak chin beneath it, a bald head. Hosteen and Aenys. He remembered them from before he knew his name. Hosteen was a bull, slow to anger but implacable once roused, and by repute the fiercest fighter of Lord Walder’s get. Aenys was older, crueler, and more clever—a commander, not a swordsman. Both were seasoned soldiers.

The northmen followed hard behind the van, their tattered banners streaming in the wind. Reek watched them pass. Most were afoot, and there were so few of them. He remembered the great host that marched south with Young Wolf, beneath the direwolf of Winterfell. Twenty thousand swords and spears had gone off to war with Robb, or near enough to make no matter, but only two in ten were coming back, and most of those were Dreadfort men.

Even as Reek struggles to keep Theon at bay (thinking of his life before the Dreadfort dungeons as the time “before he knew his name”), making contact with the people with whom Theon rode to war is stirring something inside him, and that’s reflected in the big picture of what it means for this army to arrive in the North. Grey Wind’s forlorn eyes from the House of the Undying are watching, and judging, and waiting. Wolves prowl and howl through the opening chapters of ADWD’s Northern half, singing the song of their fall, and of Jojen’s solemn promise: “the wolves will come again.” The ghosts of the Red Wedding follow this army to Winterfell, and hang heavy on the Ramsay-Jeyne wedding and everything that follows, crying out for redress. The gods have been insulted, and will have their due. Thankfully, there’s a man going ‘round taking names, and he decides who to free and who to blame...

...but discussion of His Grace King Stannis Baratheon, the Wrath of God, will have to wait for later chapters, as will Wyman Manderly’s culinary interpretation of divine judgment.

For the purposes of Theon’s arc, the Ironborn at Moat Cailin serve as the mirror from which he’s trying so desperately to look away. I said last time that what Reek fears most right now, even more than Ramsay, is being Theon. That name carries so much shame and pain with it that he prefers to be “your Reek,” fearing not only the external consequences of defiance (more torture and maiming), but also the internal consequences of identifying as his old self. All Theon wanted to do in ACOK was take control of his life, and now that’s the last thing he wants, because of what he did with that power once he had it. He returns to Moat Cailin flying a white flag of peace, but it may as well be one of surrender.

“I am Ironborn,” Reek answered, lying. The boy he’d been before had been Ironborn, true enough, but Reek had come into this world in the dungeons of the Dreadfort. “Look at my face. I am Lord Balon’s son. Your prince.” He would have said the name, but somehow the words caught in his throat. Reek, I’m Reek, it rhymes with squeak.

“Ralf Kenning is dead,” he said. “Who commands here?”

The drinkers stared at him blankly. One laughed. Another spat. Finally one of the Codds said, “Who asks?”

“Lord Balon’s son.” Reek, my name is Reek, it rhymes with cheek.

One of the Codds pushed to his feet. A big man, but pop-eyed and wide of mouth, with dead white flesh. He looked as if his father had sired him on a fish, but he still wore a longsword. “Dagon Codd yields to no man.”

No, please, you have to listen. The thought of what Ramsay would do to him if he crept back to camp without the garrison’s surrender was almost enough to make him piss his breeches. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with leak.

What gives this chapter its charge is that our POV is being forced by the man who shattered his old identity to resume that identity. It’s Theon playing Reek playing Theon, and he’s being made to remember his name in order to sway the people who represent his old life, because they’d never surrender to Reek. He knows that, because he used to be like them...or he wanted to be, anyway. When Theon first became a POV, his mind was aflame with song, lashing his in-between identity to the values and visions of the Old Way:

Once I would have kept her as a salt wife in truth, he thought to himself as he slid his fingers through her tangled hair. Once. When we still kept the Old Way, lived by the axe instead of the pick, taking what we would, be it wealth, women, or glory. In those days, the Ironborn did not work mines; that was labor for the captives brought back from the hostings, and so too the sorry business of farming and tending goats and sheep. War was an ironman's proper trade. The Drowned God had made them to reave and rape, to carve out kingdoms and write their names in fire and blood and song.

Aegon the Dragon had destroyed the Old Way when he burned Black Harren, gave Harren's kingdom back to the weakling rivermen, and reduced the Iron Islands to an insignificant backwater of a much greater realm. Yet the old red tales were still told around driftwood fires and smoky hearths all across the islands, even behind the high stone halls of Pyke. Theon's father numbered among his titles the style of Lord Reaper, and the Greyjoy words boasted that We Do Not Sow.

It had been to bring back the Old Way more than for the empty vanity of a crown that Lord Balon had staged his great rebellion. Robert Baratheon had written a bloody end to that hope, with the help of his friend Eddard Stark, but both men were dead now. Mere boys ruled in their stead, and the realm that Aegon the Conqueror had forged was smashed and sundered. This is the season, Theon thought as the captain's daughter slid her lips up and down the length of him, the season, the year, the day, and I am the man.

This chapter, Theon I ACOK, slots right in between Davos I (the one with Lightbringer) and Daenerys I (the one in the Red Waste), both of them positively soaked with messianic imagery and focused on weighty questions of power, prophecy, and the price you pay. But in Theon’s chapter, the launching pad for the most stubbornly secular storyline in ACOK, the messianic mindset is stripped of its finery and exposed as pitiful self-delusion. This is who you are, Chosen One, all the more clearly with neither dragons nor shadowbinders at your back: a mirror-drunk fool dreaming of atrocities while your dick gets sucked.

Three books later, that self-image has been racked and flayed and castrated before being spat back out at us as Reek. He thinks of himself as having been born beneath the Dreadfort, molded like clay from Theon’s blood and pain; are you my mother, Ramsay? He keeps retreating to his new name in his thoughts, a mantra to keep the fear away. The identity of which he dreamed is now the nightmare he cannot shake. And what better way for the author to reflect that than by bringing him up against the death of his dream, the most unshakable images of the rot eating away at the Old Way?

Reek passed the rotted carcass of a horse, an arrow jutting from its neck. A long white snake slithered into its empty eye socket at his approach. Behind the horse he spied the rider, or what remained of him. The crows had stripped the flesh from the man’s face, and a feral dog had burrowed beneath his mail to get at his entrails. Farther on, another corpse had sunk so deep into the muck that only his face and fingers showed.

Closer to the towers, corpses littered the ground on every side. Blood-blooms had sprouted from their gaping wounds, pale flowers with petals plump and moist as a woman’s lips.

Ralf Kenning lay shivering beneath a mountain of furs. His arms were stacked beside him—sword and axe, mail hauberk, iron warhelm. His shield bore the storm god’s cloudy hand, lightning crackling from his fingers down to a raging sea, but the paint was discolored and peeling, the wood beneath starting to rot.

Ralf was rotting too. Beneath the furs he was naked and feverish, his pale puffy flesh covered with weeping sores and scabs. His head was misshapen, one cheek grotesquely swollen, his neck so engorged with blood that it threatened to swallow his face. The arm on that same side was big as a log and crawling with white worms. No one had bathed him or shaved him for many days, from the look of him. One eye wept pus, and his beard was crusty with dried vomit.

“What happened to him?” asked Reek.

“He was on the parapets and some bog devil loosed an arrow at him. It was only a graze, but…they poison their shafts, smear the points with shit and worse things. We poured boiling wine into the wound, but it made no difference.”

This is how the Old Way has always died, with broken towers and the stench of corpses, from Aegon melting Harrenhal to Robert smashing Pyke. Every time it falls, the seeds are sown for its next rise; the ideology’s exposed festering folly is folded into a Lost Cause mythos that weaponizes resentment and ennobles suffering. The last time it fell, part of the price paid was Theon’s identity, and his desperate drive to reclaim it by reviving the Old Way is what led him here. He’s unrecognizable to the very world in which he hoped to finally recognize himself.

The garrison will never know me. Some might recall the boy he’d been before he learned his name, but Reek would be a stranger to them. It had been a long while since he last looked into a glass, but he knew how old he must appear. His hair had turned white; much of it had fallen out, and what was left was stiff and dry as straw. The dungeons had left him weak as an old woman and so thin a strong wind could knock him down.

And his hands…Ramsay had given him gloves, fine gloves of black leather, soft and supple, stuffed with wool to conceal his missing fingers, but if anyone looked closely, he would see that three of his fingers did not bend.

That fall from grace, the violent collapse of his projected identity, is reflected back at him by the sorry state of the Ironborn garrison. They came here as an army, together, one people; they knew who they were. And now...?

Someone seized him and dragged him inside, and he heard the door crash shut behind him. He was pulled to his feet and shoved against a wall. Then a knife was at his throat, a bearded face so close to his that he could count the man’s nose hairs. “Who are you? What’s your purpose here? Quick now, or I’ll do you the same as him.” The guard jerked his head toward a body rotting on the floor beside the door, its flesh green and crawling with maggots.

“I am ironborn,” Reek answered, lying. The boy he’d been before had been ironborn, true enough, but Reek had come into this world in the dungeons of the Dreadfort. “Look at my face. I am Lord Balon’s son. Your prince.” He would have said the name, but somehow the words caught in his throat. Reek, I’m Reek, it rhymes with squeak. He had to forget that for a little while, though. No man would ever yield to a creature such as Reek, no matter how desperate his situation. He must pretend to be a prince again.

His captor stared at his face, squinting, his mouth twisted in suspicion. His teeth were brown, and his breath stank of ale and onion. “Lord Balon’s sons were killed.”

“My brothers. Not me. Lord Ramsay took me captive after Winterfell. He’s sent me here to treat with you. Do you command here?”

“Me?” The man lowered his knife and took a step backwards, almost stumbling over the corpse. “Not me, m’lord.” His mail was rusted, his leathers rotting. On the back of one hand an open sore wept blood. “Ralf Kenning has the command. The captain said. I’m on the door, is all.”

“And who is this?” Reek gave the corpse a kick.

The guard stared at the dead man as if seeing him for the first time. “Him…he drank the water. I had to cut his throat for him, to stop his screaming. Bad belly. You can’t drink the water. That’s why we got the ale.” The guard rubbed his face, his eyes red and inflamed. “We used to drag the dead down into the cellars. All the vaults are flooded down there. No one wants to take the trouble now, so we just leave them where they fall.”

“The cellar is a better place for them. Give them to the water. To the Drowned God.”

The man laughed. “No gods down there, m’lord. Only rats and water snakes. White things, thick as your leg. Sometimes they slither up the steps and bite you in your sleep.”

Reek remembered the dungeons underneath the Dreadfort, the rat squirming between his teeth, the taste of warm blood on his lips. If I fail, Ramsay will send me back to that, but first he’ll flay the skin from another finger. “How many of the garrison are left?”

“Some,” said the ironman. “I don’t know. Fewer than we was before. Some in the Drunkard’s Tower too, I think. Not the Children’s Tower. Dagon Codd went over there a few days back. Only two men left alive, he said, and they was eating on the dead ones. He killed them both, if you can believe that.”

Moat Cailin has fallen, Reek realized then, only no one has seen fit to tell them.

And now they are lost, turning on each other, their god forgotten. Cannibalism rears its head again and again in ADWD, as the taboo wilts in the face of winter and war. Theon came here with the knights of summer; Reek returns to find the living dead. Two different armies, two different peoples, as one in his mind now. After all, he’s been trying to bridge this particular gap for most of his life. The abyss awaited both armies to occupy the Moat, as it awaited Theon. Never forget Kubrick’s parting shot in Barry Lyndon:

In ACOK, Theon tried to shed the Northern self exemplified by that shining army at the Moat like dead skin, giving himself over to the image of the Ironborn self in his head. Now Reek returns to Moat Calin to play that image, only to sacrifice it as he was as a child, sacrificed like the men at Moat Cailin to the Old Way...

“Kill him,” Reek told the guard. “His wits are gone. He’s full of blood and worms.”

The man gaped at him. “The captain put him in command.”

“You’d put a dying horse down.”

“What horse? I never had no horse.”

I did. The memory came back in a rush. Smiler’s screams had sounded almost human. His mane afire, he had reared up on his hind legs, blind with pain, lashing out with his hooves. No, no. Not mine, he was not mine, Reek never had a horse. “I will kill him for you.” Reek snatched up Ralf Kenning’s sword where it leaned against his shield. He still had fingers enough to clasp the hilt. When he laid the edge of the blade against the swollen throat of the creature on the straw, the skin split open in a gout of black blood and yellow pus. Kenning jerked violently, then lay still.

...and then again as an adult, this time to the Bastard of Bolton.

Reek swung down from his saddle and took a knee. “My lord, Moat Cailin is yours. Here are its last defenders.”

“So few. I had hoped for more. They were such stubborn foes.” Lord Ramsay’s pale eyes shone. “You must be starved. Damon, Alyn, see to them. Wine and ale, and all the food that they can eat. Skinner, show their wounded to our maesters.”

“Aye, my lord.”

A few of the Ironborn muttered thanks before they shambled off toward the cookfires in the center of the camp. One of the Codds even tried to kiss Lord Ramsay’s ring, but the hounds drove him back before he could get close, and Alison took a chunk of his ear. Even as the blood streamed down his neck, the man bobbed and bowed and praised his lordship’s mercy.

When the last of them were gone, Ramsay Bolton turned his smile on Reek. He clasped him by the back of the head, pulled his face close, kissed him on his cheek, and whispered, “My old friend Reek. Did they really take you for their prince? What bloody fools, these ironmen. The gods are laughing.”

“All they want is to go home, my lord.”

“And what do you want, my sweet Reek?” Ramsay murmured, as softly as a lover. His breath smelled of mulled wine and cloves, so sweet. “Such valiant service deserves a reward. I cannot give you back your fingers or your toes, but surely there is something you would have of me. Shall I free you instead? Release you from my service? Do you want to go with them, return to your bleak isles in the cold grey sea, be a prince again? Or would you sooner stay my leal serving man?”

A cold knife scraped along his spine. Be careful, he told himself, be very, very careful. He did not like his lordship’s smile, the way his eyes were shining, the spittle glistening at the corner of his mouth. He had seen such signs before. You are no prince. You’re Reek, just Reek, it rhymes with freak. Give him the answer that he wants.

“My lord,” he said, “my place is here, with you. I’m your Reek. I only want to serve you. All I ask …a skin of wine, that would be reward enough for me…red wine, the strongest that you have, all the wine a man can drink…”

Lord Ramsay laughed. “You’re not a man, Reek. You’re just my creature. You’ll have your wine, though. Walder, see to it. And fear not, I won’t return you to the dungeons, you have my word as a Bolton. We’ll make a dog of you instead. Meat every day, and I’ll even leave you teeth enough to eat it. You can sleep beside my girls. Ben, do you have a collar for him?”

“I’ll have one made, m’lord,” said old Ben Bones.

The old man did better than that. That night, besides the collar, there was a ragged blanket too, and half a chicken. Reek had to fight the dogs for the meat, but it was the best meal he’d had since Winterfell.

And the wine…the wine was dark and sour, but strong. Squatting amongst the hounds, Reek drank until his head swam, retched, wiped his mouth, and drank some more. Afterward he lay back and closed his eyes. When he woke a dog was licking vomit from his beard, and dark clouds were scuttling across the face of a sickle moon. Somewhere in the night, men were screaming. He shoved the dog aside, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

The next morning Lord Ramsay dispatched three riders down the causeway to take word to his lord father that the way was clear. The flayed man of House Bolton was hoisted above the Gatehouse Tower, where Reek had hauled down the golden kraken of Pyke. Along the rotting-plank road, wooden stakes were driven deep into the boggy ground; there the corpses festered, red and dripping. Sixty-three, he knew, there are sixty-three of them. One was short half an arm. Another had a parchment shoved between its teeth, its wax seal still unbroken.

“So few. I had hoped for more.” The soul shudders. And oh, how casually “somewhere in the night, men were screaming” strolls into the middle of a paragraph, and Reek rolls back over to sleep...

To be clear, I’m not holding Theon responsible for what happens to his sixty-three fellow Ironborn left at the Moat. He’s in no position to refuse Ramsay, as GRRM makes clear in his inner monologue throughout the chapter. But Ramsay is deliberately putting his prisoner through a gauntlet of the self. He has our POV act as Prince Theon son of King Balon, forces him through a cruel mummer’s farce of “choosing” to stay at Ramsay’s side as Reek, and then viciously annihilates the people who represent Theon’s connection to that old identity. It has exactly the effect Ramsay wants: “He pulled down the kraken banner with his own two hands, fumbling some because of his missing fingers but thankful for the fingers that Lord Ramsay had allowed him to keep.” This is what it means to have been Theon and to now be Reek.

This pattern will repeat itself over the course of Theon’s next two chapters, as Roose and Barbrey conspire to have him give Jeyne away to Ramsay publicly, as Theon, and so help cement Bolton control of Winterfell. At every step, Theon's identity is weaponized and turned against him. He flinches from his past, drinks to annihilate his present, and can barely conceive of a future. He is unmoored, drifting through external and internal fog, and he has once again unlocked the North on behalf of heinous authority figures he desperately wants to please. Indeed, Ramsay has wrought a fearsome image of himself in Theon’s mind, a devil equally at home tempting and punishing, and that dynamic is recreated at Moat Cailin:

One of the Codds even tried to kiss Lord Ramsay’s ring, but the hounds drove him back before he could get close, and Alison took a chunk of his ear. Even as the blood streamed down his neck, the man bobbed and bowed and praised his lordship’s mercy.

On that note, one persistent critique of both AFFC and ADWD is that the violence stopped meaning anything--the author started leaning on brutality for brutality’s sake, because he bought into his own rep and/or was out of ideas. I think it’s a valid complaint when it comes to, say, Biter eating Brienne’s face. But on the flipside, the horrific violence in Theon’s storyline is consistently linked to intertwined themes of memory and identity in a manner that I find resonant. Look no further than the man who accepts Ramsay’s offer, and why:

It was the one-armed man who’d flung the axe. As he rose to his feet he had another in his hand. “Who else wants to die?” he asked the other drinkers. “Speak up, I’ll see you do.” Thin red streams were spreading out across the stone from the pool of blood where Dagon Codd’s head had come to rest. “Me, I mean to live, and that don’t mean staying here to rot.”

The one-armed man walked at the head of the procession, limping heavily. His name, he said, was Adrack Humble, and he had a rock wife and three salt wives back on Great Wyk. “Three of the four had big bellies when we sailed,” he boasted, “and Humbles run to twins. First thing I’ll need to do when I get back is count up my new sons. Might be I’ll even name one after you, m’lord.”

Aye, name him Reek, he thought, and when he’s bad you can cut his toes off and give him rats to eat. He turned his head and spat, and wondered if Ralf Kenning hadn’t been the lucky one.

“All they want is to go home, my lord.” And so does Theon, but he has no home to go back to.

Now, of course, Adrack Humble’s dream of counting up his sons is hardly a utopian vision--he kidnapped and enslaved most of their mothers. But the world to which he belongs is the world to which Theon wanted to belong, believing in it so badly he put his life on the line for it...and it failed him, just as it always ultimately fails your average [H]umble man of the Iron Islands. As such, Reek now thinks that the man who rotted without getting his hopes up was the lucky one. This is how he talked when the Young Wolf’s army marched south...

"But such a battle!" said Theon Greyjoy eagerly. "My lady, the realm has not seen such a victory since the Field of Fire. I vow, the Lannisters lost ten men for every one of ours that fell. We've taken close to a hundred knights captive, and a dozen lords bannermen. Lord Westerling, Lord Banefort, Ser Garth Greenfield, Lord Estren, Ser Tytos Brax, Mallor the Dornishman … and three Lannisters besides Jaime, Lord Tywin's own nephews, two of his sister's sons and one of his dead brother's…"    

Theon Greyjoy was seated on a bench in Riverrun's Great Hall, enjoying a horn of ale and regaling her father's garrison with an account of the slaughter in the Whispering Wood. "Some tried to flee, but we'd pinched the valley shut at both ends, and we rode out of the darkness with sword and lance. The Lannisters must have thought the Others themselves were on them when that wolf of Robb's got in among them. I saw him tear one man's arm from his shoulder, and their horses went mad at the scent of him. I couldn't tell you how many men were thrown—"    

...but his story is always interrupted, his comrades died at dinner, and now he dreams only of blood. We rode to war with songs on our lips, but by the time the last notes faded and left us alone with the silence, we were utterly transformed. When Theon eagerly embraces his wine and his half-chicken and his collar, trusting them to silence the screams, all I can think of is this:

“And the man breaks.

“He turns and runs, or crawls off afterward over the corpses of the slain, or steals away in the black of night, and he finds someplace to hide. All thought of home is gone by then, and kings and lords and gods mean less to him than a haunch of spoiled meat that will let him live another day, or a skin of bad wine that might drown his fear for a few hours. The broken man lives from day to day, from meal to meal, more beast than man. Lady Brienne is not wrong. In times like these, the traveler must beware of broken men, and fear them...but he should pity them as well.”

Two chapters prior to Reek II, half a world away, the Shy Maid sailed through another mournful ruin, and when Tyrion stared into the Sorrows, they stared back.

The grey moss grew thickly here, covering the fallen stones in great mounds and bearding all the towers. Black vines crept in and out of windows, through doors and over archways, up the sides of high stone walls. The fog concealed three-quarters of the palace, but what they glimpsed was more than enough for Tyrion to know that this island fastness had been ten times the size of the Red Keep once and a hundred times more beautiful. He knew where he was. “The Palace of Love,” he said softly.

“That was the Rhoynar name,” said Haldon Halfmaester, “but for a thousand years this has been the Palace of Sorrow.”

The ruin was sad enough, but knowing what it had been made it even sadder. There was laughter here once, Tyrion thought. There were gardens bright with flowers and fountains sparkling golden in the sun. These steps once rang to the sound of lovers’ footsteps, and beneath that broken dome marriages beyond count were sealed with a kiss. His thoughts turned to Tysha, who had so briefly been his lady wife. It was Jaime, he thought, despairing. He was my own blood, my big strong brother. When I was small he brought me toys, barrel hoops and blocks and a carved wooden lion. He gave me my first pony and taught me how to ride him. When he said that he had bought you for me, I never doubted him. Why would I? He was Jaime, and you were just some girl who’d played a part. I had feared it from the start, from the moment you first smiled at me and let me touch your hand. My own father could not love me. Why would you if not for gold?

Through the long grey fingers of the fog, he heard again the deep shuddering thrum of a bowstring snapping taut, the grunt Lord Tywin made as the quarrel took him beneath the belly, the slap of cheeks on stone as he sat back down to die.

And therein lies a theme that runs through ASOIAF but for me finds its richest expressions in A Dance with Dragons: you can’t go home again.

Quentyn did not want to die at all. I want to go back to Yronwood and kiss both of your sisters, marry Gwyneth Yronwood, watch her flower into beauty, have a child by her. I want to ride in tourneys, hawk and hunt, visit with my mother in Norvos, read some of those books my father sends me. I want Cletus and Will and Maester Kedry to be alive again.

Home is haunted, by the love you lost and the family you failed.

The door to the roof of the tower was stuck so fast that it was plain no one had opened it in years. He had to put his shoulder to it to force it open. But when Jon Connington stepped out onto the high battlements, the view was just as intoxicating as he remembered: the crag with its wind-carved rocks and jagged spires, the sea below growling and worrying at the foot of the castle like some restless beast, endless leagues of sky and cloud, the wood with its autumnal colors. “Your father’s lands are beautiful,” Prince Rhaegar had said, standing right where Jon was standing now. And the boy he’d been had replied, “One day they will all be mine.” As if that could impress a prince who was heir to the entire realm, from the Arbor to the Wall.

Griffin’s Roost had been his, eventually, if only for a few short years. From here, Jon Connington had ruled broad lands extending many leagues to the west, north, and south, just as his father and his father’s father had before him. But his father and his father’s father had never lost their lands. He had.

Home is a border wall, a chain digging and twisting.

“Do you have brothers?” Asha asked her keeper.

“Sisters,” Alysane Mormont replied, gruff as ever. “Five, we were. All girls. Lyanna is back on Bear Island. Lyra and Jory are with our mother. Dacey was murdered.”

“The Red Wedding.”

“Aye.” Alysane stared at Asha for a moment. “I have a son. He’s only two. My daughter’s nine.”

“You started young.”

“Too young. But better that than wait too late.”

A stab at me, Asha thought, but let it be. “You are wed.”

“No. My children were fathered by a bear.” Alysane smiled. Her teeth were crooked, but there was something ingratiating about that smile. “Mormont women are skinchangers. We turn into bears and find mates in the woods. Everyone knows.”

Asha smiled back. “Mormont women are all fighters too.”

The other woman’s smile faded. “What we are is what you made us. On Bear Island every child learns to fear krakens rising from the sea.”

The Old Way. Asha turned away, chains clinking faintly.

Home is leagues and years away, and yet so close you can almost touch it.

Bran closed his eyes and slipped free of his skin. Into the roots, he thought. Into the weirwood. Become the tree. For an instant he could see the cavern in its black mantle, could hear the river rushing by below.

Then all at once he was back home again.

Lord Eddard Stark sat upon a rock beside the deep black pool in the godswood, the pale roots of the heart tree twisting around him like an old man’s gnarled arms. The greatsword Ice lay across Lord Eddard’s lap, and he was cleaning the blade with an oilcloth.

“Winterfell,” Bran whispered.

“I have my own ghosts, Bran. A brother that I loved, a brother that I hated, a woman I desired. Through the trees, I see them still, but no word of mine has ever reached them. The past remains the past. We can learn from it, but we cannot change it.”

You have no home. You never will.

Water splashed against the soles of her feet. She was walking in the stream. How long had she been doing that? The soft brown mud felt good between her toes and helped to soothe her blisters. In the stream or out of it, I must keep walking. Water flows downhill. The stream will take me to the river, and the river will take me home.

Except it wouldn’t, not truly.

You’ll give up everything just to get home, please, please...

Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. The Night’s Watch takes no part. He closed his fist and opened it again. What you propose is nothing less than treason. He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon’s breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird’s nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell…I want my bride back…I want my bride back…I want my bride back…

...but it’s gone.

“I have no wish to die, I promise you. I have …” His voice trailed off into uncertainty. What do I have? A life to live? Work to do? Children to raise, lands to rule, a woman to love?

Home is a time, not a place, and there were so few times that Theon was at home. One of them was here, not so long ago, though it feels like it was. For a brief shining second as the banners caught the breeze, with roaring Umbers and fierce Karstarks, with a powerful army around him, with his brother in all but blood marching to avenge his (their?) father, he knew who he was.

And now, he can’t even remember his name.

How could who I was mean anything if it can be taken away from me like this? I was a Greyjoy among Starks, and then a Stark among Greyjoys; I was Theon and had to become Reek, I am Reek and have to become Theon. Forgive me, he calls through time to the smiling man he used to know, I was not strong enough. But Theon can’t hear Reek and never will.

...and yet.

A light rain had begun to piss down out of the slate-grey sky by the time Lord Ramsay’s camp appeared in front of them. A sentry watched them pass in silence. The air was full of drifting smoke from the cookfires drowning in the rain. A column of riders came wheeling up behind them, led by a lordling with a horsehead on his shield. One of Lord Ryswell’s sons, Reek knew. Roger, or maybe Rickard. He could not tell the two of them apart. “Is this all of them?” the rider asked from atop a chestnut stallion.

“All who weren’t dead, my lord.”

“I thought there would be more. We came at them three times, and three times they threw us back.”

We are Ironborn, he thought, with a sudden flash of pride, and for half a heartbeat he was a prince again, Lord Balon’s son, the blood of Pyke.

We are Ironborn. We are Ironborn. The point isn’t that being Ironborn is, in itself, some great moral progression for Theon. The point is that he just thought of himself as one of them, as Theon, in spite of Ramsay arranging everything that happens in Reek II to convince him that he is not. He has, just for a second, found himself.

This spark grows in strength when Roose Bolton and his army arrives to escort his bastard’s bride home. As I said last time, the identity shell-games extend beyond Theon himself; his arc in ADWD only works as well as it does because it resonates with what’s happening in the plot. The North went south united, but returns divided. Roose doesn’t exactly have “a peaceful land, a quiet people” on his hands, and bringing the hated Freys north will only further provoke Stark loyalists (as we’ll see in later chapters). Moreover, his army had to pass through the Neck, controlled by one of said Stark loyalists, Howland Reed. As such, it’s not safe these days to be Roose Bolton...so he outsourced the job.

Collared and chained and back in rags again, Reek followed with the other dogs at Lord Ramsay’s heels when his lordship strode forth to greet his father. When the rider in the dark armor removed his helm, however, the face beneath was not one that Reek knew. Ramsay’s smile curdled at the sight, and anger flashed across his face. “What is this, some mockery?”

“Just caution,” whispered Roose Bolton, as he emerged from behind the curtains of the enclosed wagon.

This is a terrific way to reintroduce a villain. We haven’t seen Roose since he shed all pretense and revealed himself, a snake with new skin, at the Red Wedding. What could be more fitting than for him to wrong-foot us along with Ramsay upon re-entry? We lean forward to see him, only to hear his soft voice behind us...

Reek pretending to be Theon paved the way for the man pretending to be Roose and the girl pretending to be Arya. It’s a mockery, a mummer’s farce, a hall of mirrors. By weaving the central question of Theon’s story--who am I?--into the characters and plot points surrounding him, GRRM elevates that story. It’s the classic existentialist quest: the eternal hunt of the elusive Real. The question of whether Theon will remember his name fits like a puzzle piece with the question of whether the North will remember its name. And the North remembers.

But Theon, try as he might, is not a Stark...and neither is Ramsay’s bride-to-be.

(image by Elia Fernandez)

Jeyne Poole is not Arya Stark, and everyone knows it. Her presence is a marker of Bolton success: the key to Winterfell, a gift from their Lannister patrons, a declaration that the old has been humbled before and folded into the new. Yet more than anything else, it is the lack of anyone willing to call the Dreadfort men on their fraud that points to their rising fortunes at this moment. This is precisely why Davos’ defiant stand against the Freys in the Merman’s Court (in the chapter immediately prior to this one, worth noting?) hits home so hard. The man who stuck his neck out for the truth will not suffer these noxious lies about what happened to the Northerners who went south, and it’s all the more admirable because he (seemingly) stands alone.

And after a chapter of his identity being used against him, rewarded with a collar for handing his people over to a butcher, telling himself again and again that he is Reek, not Theon but Reek...our POV finally drops the disguise.

The girl was slim, and taller than he remembered, but that was only to be expected. Girls grow fast at that age. Her dress was grey wool bordered with white satin; over it she wore an ermine cloak clasped with a silver wolf’s head. Dark brown hair fell halfway down her back. And her eyes…

That is not Lord Eddard’s daughter.

Arya had her father’s eyes, the grey eyes of the Starks. A girl her age might let her hair grow long, add inches to her height, see her chest fill out, but she could not change the color of her eyes. That’s Sansa’s little friend, the steward’s girl. Jeyne, that was her name. Jeyne Poole.

“Lord Ramsay.” The girl dipped down before him. That was wrong as well. The real Arya Stark would have spat into his face. “I pray that I will make you a good wife and give you strong sons to follow after you.”

“That you will,” promised Ramsay, “and soon.”

It’s only internal. There’s nothing moral about it yet. He’s yet to relate her fortunes to his own. But by allowing Reek to play Theon, Ramsay has unknowingly reintroduced his captive’s pre-captivity identity into his bloodstream like an antivirus, and Jeyne’s arrival crystallizes what this means for our POV. If she’s not Arya, then he’s not Reek.

The past is present. The mud you pack into that hole in the ruined wall won’t keep your ghosts at bay. But (to borrow from Barristan) mud can nourish the seeds from which you will grow, your past the fertilizer for your rebirth.

At the edge of the wolfswood, Bran turned in his basket for one last glimpse of the castle that had been his life. Wisps of smoke still rose into the grey sky, but no more than might have risen from Winterfell's chimneys on a cold autumn afternoon. Soot stains marked some of the arrow loops, and here and there a crack or a missing merlon could be seen in the curtain wall, but it seemed little enough from this distance. Beyond, the tops of the keeps and towers still stood as they had for hundreds of years, and it was hard to tell that the castle had been sacked and burned at all. The stone is strong, Bran told himself, the roots of the trees go deep, and under the ground the Kings of Winter sit their thrones. So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken. Like me, he thought. I'm not dead either.    

[miru-p]

So, here the last part of the Nobody Dies AU trilogy aka Two Zeppelis being idiots(tm) and everyone suffering because of it. Probs I’ll be doing more NBD AU stuff, but atm I’m trying a CaeElla writting so :3c Here you can read the previous ones: Part 1. Part 2. Soo, yep, part 3 under the cut~~

A month and a half since the Crusade in Egypt had passed, and finally Avdol could return home. Everyone on the Joestar household received him with a bright smile. Joseph patted his shoulders. Karina just ran and threw herself into his arms for a hug. Everyone was surprised, but Avdol knew her well enough, so he could catch her without a glitch.

“You know, I was testing that your new arms are working perfectly.” She smiled.

“Of course you were.” Avdol smirked. “So then you don’t want a kiss or anything right?”

“Hmm…. Maybe I should test your lips too…”

“Okay, okay, enough, lovebirds” Joseph said, laughing.

Avdol let Karina on the ground, and both she and Joseph show him his (and Karina’s) room, plus more things about the apartment.

Karina didn’t let go her beloved Momo’s hand during the whole day. She was so happy to finally have him there with her. And everyone there were so happy to see them like that. They do such a nice couple, uh? Suzi Q thought smiling wildly.

“So, when you two are going to get married?” Billie asked, during dinner.

Both Avdol and Karina blushed, especially the latter, who was the one who broke the silence.

“I mean… it’s not like we don’t wanna…” she started to feel her blood boiling.

“We didn’t think about that so much, to be honest.” Avdol said, rescuing his flustered lover.

“But it’s the next step, right?” Billie continued. She was so happy about the couple that didn’t realize that they were a bit uncomfortable with the matter. It was obvious both of them agreed with her, but didn’t want to bother the other. “It would be nice! We can do the ceremony here, with all the family! Oh, it would be nice to meet your mom! She’s like my half-sister after all.”

“No.”

Karina declined Billie’s offer with just a word. A word that came out really cold and serious, something so unusual in Karina that everyone on the table looked at her. She was looking down to her fists.

“Ah, I didn’t want to sound that I was forcing you two or something” Billie said, trying to apologize after noticing the tension. “I didn’t mean to bother you or anything, sorry for that”

“It’s not like that.” Karina replied without raising her head. “I do want to get married. I do want to be with my family celebrating that. But…”

“Karina, please…” Avdol whispered to her. He knew something was wrong. He knows she was going to break in pieces if anyone wouldn’t do something. But it was too late.

“I just… can’t bring my mother near that bastard!” Karina yelled, pointing at Caesar. Suzi Q and Avdol tried to calm her, while Billie was just so shocked. Caesar didn’t even blink. “He is the reason why my nonna had to live an awful life! Her parents just kicked her out of their house with a baby! My mother had to grow up without a father. Almost without a mother, since my nonna had to work very hard to maintain them both!” Karina bursted into tears. Her face was red due to her anger. “All that suffering… and you were just living a perfect life… I… I really hate you…”

“Karina, please, this is enough, stop”

“I just can’t allow you to be in my mother’s life. You wouldn’t ruin her life again!” Karina dried her tears.  “I just… I just wish you would be actually dead as you were supposed to be.”

-Slap-

Everything went quiet. Everyone looked at Joseph, who had just stood up and slapped Karina.

“You didn’t know shit yet you are brave and stupid enough to say all those things about him, uh?”

“Oh my” Suzi Q murmured. “Joseph, dear, don’t.”

“You don’t know anything. Living a perfect life? You don’t know shit. You don’t know how much he suffered until he could be happy.” Joseph yelled at her. “In first place, he almost died, I have to remind this to you? You don’t know how is to feel like someone precious to you is on a hospital bed during months and months without even the certainty that he would wake up.” His voice started to break, but continued anyways, he was so angry with the young Zeppeli. “And when he woke up, finally, he had to go through a hard rehabilitation, his injuries were so severe, damn it! Yes, he went here, but because I told him to. Because” he gulped. “… I wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t lose him again. That time I’d protect him, not take him to death.”

Both Caesar and Suzi stared at him. Suzi tried to stand up and hold her husband hand, but Billie didn’t let her. She knows that it was better for her dad to just vent out. For him and for Karina too.

“He didn’t know he had a daughter, I know that if he knew he would probably stay with them in Italy instead of going here with us. I know that. But sadly he didn’t know, so he couldn’t be with them.” Joseph said. His tone was calmer now. “So, don’t you dare to say those things ever again.”

Karina didn’t even look at him, and just ran away.

“I think you overdid it, Joseph.” Caesar said softly.

“What? Me? She said all those things and you’re lecturing me?” Joseph said offended. “Well, actually it’s your fault in first place. You’re the one who shouldn’t let her treat you like that.”

Caesar stared at him. Joseph had still his fists clenched. He held his hand. “Grazie, Joseph, seriously.” He murmured. Joseph softened a bit. “Also, please, stop blaming yourself for things that happened fifty years ago, okay?” Caesar rubbed his hair, and he smiled. “I’m going to go after her.”

“Mister Zeppeli, I’m very sorry about this.” Avdol said, before the Italian left the room.

“Don’t worry. I guess she’s just as short tempered as her grandfather.” He replied smiling, and then left the apartment. He ran until he saw someone sitting on the ground.

“Hey.”

“What do you want?” said Karina in between sobs.

“I’m sorry” Caesar sat down near her.

“I told you that I wish you were dead and you’re the one apologizing? You sure are an idiot.” she mumbled. “Joseph is right. I… I don’t know anything. Plus, it’s not even my problem. The only ones who have the right to be angry with you are either my grandmother or my mother, and one of them can’t, so…”

“Yes, but it’s your family. It’s normal that you want to protect them.”

“But you’re supposed to be my family too.”

Caesar couldn’t reply to that, and Karina didn’t say anything more either. Few seconds later, Joseph, Suzi, Avdol, and Billie found them, but stayed far enough to not to bother but close enough to hear what was happening.

“My mom… she usually told me stories about you when I was a child…” Karina started. “Stories that Mister Messina told her when she was a child too. About how amazing you were. I really admired you back then.” She felt a pain in her throat and chest. “Back then, I really wished I could meet you… But when I met Joseph and he told me you were alive… I felt… so betrayed. My only hero betrayed me. Plus… you are not like the hero I imagined.”

“Do you hate me because I am not as you imagined I would be?” Caesar asked.

“I… I guess….” She started crying again. She hid her face on her knees.

“But you can’t know if I’m not as you imagined. You don’t even give me a chance to show you how I am. You don’t want to know anything about me.”

“I know that! I know I’m an idiot!” Karina shouted. “I just… I’m scared! Scared of betrayal, scared of disillusion! Scared of caring and losing again!”

Caesar hugged her with all his strength. Karina tried to avoid the hug, but finally she gave up.  

“Probably you think I slept with every woman I could when I was young, but it isn’t true actually.” Caesar said. “Your grandmother… she was a very special woman. I really loved her.”

“Are you saying that just by commitment?”

“No. Why should I?” Caesar replied smiling. “I’m just saying the truth. She was… a really strong woman… Very stubborn too. She didn’t really give a shit about me at first. She thought that I was just a womanizer and told me how disgusting I was several times.”

“Are you serious?” Karina asked, perplexed.

“Yes. I guess I have something for people who can’t stand my flirty tactics. Bonus points if they have teal eyes” Caesar snorted. “Maybe it’s true that physically you look more like me, but I can assure you that you are a lot like your grandmother.”

Karina wiped her tears again and rested her head on her grandfather’s shoulder. Caesar loosened the hug a little.

“I was… I was going to be with her. But-“

“You fell in love with Joseph” Karina interrupted. Caesar patted her hair.

“Yes.” He replied. “Besides, when I woke up it had been five months… and almost a whole year since the last time I saw her. I thought, and wished, that she could find happiness without me.”

Caesar paused for a few seconds. Karina looked at him. She could actually see regret on his face, making her feeling guilty about all of this.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be with her, supporting her. And I’m sorry I couldn’t be a father for your mother.” He murmured. “But I promise that, since now, I’ll protect all of you with my life.”

“Heh, it’s not necessary putting your life in danger for us, you know. Just… being there is okay.” Karina said, with a warm smile in her face. That was the first time in all the time she were in New York that Karina gave him a smile. Or just something that wasn’t a death glare in general.

The rest of the family, looking at the whole situation, couldn’t help but smile happily. Joseph looked proud of himself since he knew that earlier or later those two idiots would be able to improve their relationship; Avdol just sighed with a relieved smile on his face; and both Suzi and Billie just cried due to the happiness of the moment.

Caesar and Karina stood up and started walking to the apartment holding hands. Then, they found out the other four in their way. Caesar was kind of expecting it, but Karina wasn’t, and blushed.

“Seriously,” The Italian said. “so you really went after us…”

“We were veeery worried. Maybe you would end up killing each other or something, you know, Caesar-chan.” Joseph replied, grinning.

“I still can’t understand how you could fell in love with this utter idiot.” Karina said, while letting  go of Caesar’s hand due to her embarrassment.

“Yes, sometimes I ask myself that too.” Caesar said with a warm smile.

[that-terrible-writer]

You Never Know

I feel as if I cheated y’all by not giving you a story with over 2.5k words. I’m so sorry. I’m finishing up work before heading back on the long journey to the States. I will try and use my time wisely and write while I’m on the plane but no promises. Also, sooooooooooo sorry about this gif. Usually, they are somewhat connected with the new part but I couldn’t find a good one and, sadly, had to settle for this. I deeply apologize. 

Part 10

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

| Steve Harrington x Reader |

“i love your blog. i love your writting. i love steve. i looooooveeeeeee! thank you so much for keeping me happy you have no idea how much it means to me.”

“The “you never know” imagine is probably one of the best series I’ve ever read. It’s brilliant and it gets better each time!! Keep it up!! xx”

Thank you for the words of encouragement! I love reading them, they mean everything to me! <3

You were on edge. The encounter of Eight and with Billy didn't sit with you well. Every time you went out, even to go get the mail down the driveway, you would check every direction to make sure none of them were around. Will warned you about the bad men, the people at Hawkins Labs, but you were sure that Eight and her gang had to be far more threatening. Not only them but Billy too. His temper was nothing that you could imagine, witnessing him beat on Steve was a true horror movie.

You kept your distance from Billy for the past week but he still weaseled his way in. He wanted your attention, more than before, but you knew it was only to rattle up Steve. You decided to end it: for good.

"I don't see what the big deal is." Billy huffed, extending his arm out, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

"Are you kidding me?" You blinked more than necessary, baffled by his statement. You crossed your arms, tilting your head; any way possible to show your frustration with Hargrove. "You beat my friend senselessly; he didn't even fight you back." You spat.

"He came into my territory." Billy chuckled, hitting his chest with his hand, puffing his chest as a way to impress you. It did not. "I had to show who you belong to―"

You quickly raised your finger, silencing Billy during his alpha talk, "Yeah, that's where I'm going to stop you. We were never official, you made that decision, remember? You went off sleeping with every other girl at this school, but when I talk to Steve; that's suddenly a problem for you. He's been my friend long before you came along."

"You're not going to end this," Billy smirked. He took a step forward, touching your arm lightly, "I treat you so well."

Your smile was not able to project the amount of sarcasm that you had wanted to show, letting out a weak chuckle; you shook his hand away from you, "Is that a challenge?" You questioned, raising a brow.

"Steve will never be able to provide you the full satisfaction that I know I can give you," Billy plead his case, "Why do you think Nancy left him for that creep?"

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to waste any more time with him. You gave him the benefit of the doubt, you wanted to believe that he was a decent guy but after seeing him behave the way that he did with Steve: that crossed the line for you. You drove past Billy, wasting your breath when it could be better wasted on a mirror. You felt his hand yank on your arm, his arm gripping harder; forcing you to direct your attention back to him.

"You're not ending this." His tone made it clear that he wasn't joking anymore. He was telling you simply that you were his. You sank your nails into his skin, causing him to pull away.

"I think a toddler understood that I just did." You denied, finally stepping away from him.

You sat in the Byer's living room, the four of you were working on your homework together. During a break, Jonathan took Steve into his room to show him, what he called, 'what good music really is'. Which lead you being alone with Nancy, the moment the boys left, your eyes flickered to hers. She already had a grin on her face, wanting to address the elephant in the room.

"What's going on with you and Steve?" Nancy enthusiastically asked you. She quickly placed her textbook to the side of her, crawling her way to you to sit by your side. She placed her hands on her lap as she waited for your answer.

"Huh, I got the square root of 5." You responded, slowing peeling your eyes away from your homework, looking at Nancy and her puppy dog eyes, "Nothing has happened."

"He took a beating from Billy, that's not nothing." She gossiped. She grew more quiet, making sure that only the two of you could hear each other.

"Which he kind of started," You questioned, "He knew that it would make Billy angry but either way, he was out of it when I told him I loved him back."

"Why not say it again then?" Nancy stated the obvious.

"Wow, Nancy, why haven't I thought of that myself?" You snapped at her. You took a deep breath, rubbing your temples, "I'm sorry. Billy has been on my case about the whole ending it ordeal." You glanced over at Nancy, who looked at you wide eye.

"You finally ended it with Billy?" Her voice dripped with happiness as if her smile wasn't clear, "Because of Steve."

"Steve was beaten." You corrected her, raising your voice in the slightest, "Him beating anyone is a clear sign of 'what the hell was I thinking'." You grabbed your glass of water from the table, taking a sip; Nancy taking full advantage of you not speaking for the moment.

"You told Steve you loved him, he clearly is head over heels for you why can't you two be reasonable and just date?" Nancy explained. You pressed your lips into a thin line, not being able to come back with a snarky remark. She had a point, a good point, and there was no way to deny it. You understood your feelings, you came to terms with that. You, as clear as day, were in love with the Steve Harrington.

You were acting foolish but you tried a couple of times to get Steve alone; to talk about what you had said. Though everytime you were left alone, you would freeze up. His gaze captivated you, made you forget everything in the world: including your words or what you wanted to speak to him about. He just made you feel giddy, the butterflies appearing everytime his smile was directed towards you, your lips quivering as they missed his on yours; every sign that showed that you were in love―was happening.

"Because I'm stupid," I mumbled, picking at the edges of your notebook, tearing away a corner. You were startled, by the sound of his voice; the voice that made your heart pound and cheeks flush. You looked towards the hallway to see Steve and Jonathan returning from their talk.

Steve glanced down at you, giving you a smile, "What were you guys talking about?" Steve asked.

"How Y/N broke up with Billy." Nancy utterly said, shrugging her shoulders softly. Your head snapped in her direction, glaring at her as you slapped her shoulder with your notebook. Nancy stared at you, puzzled why you would hit her as she was only trying to encourage you.

"Oh?" Steve perked up, sitting upright in his chair; clearly concentrating on the conversation. "Since when?" He asked. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. Biting his thumb, trying to stop himself from asking more questions.

"Since last week," Nancy retold, "I think it may have been the day after you got the shit beat out of you." Nancy couldn't hold back a grin, rocking herself in her spot as just giving you both the push you needed to make it more official.

Your eyes went to the floor, trying to hide your face; blushing, making you bright red, in embarrassment. You fiddled with your notebook more, turning your head to look at anything else in the room rather than on Steve. The moment Nancy touched your arm lightly, you let out a small scream; taking you out of your thoughts and into reality. That it was definitely happening that she had confessed, for you, that you ended things with Billy. Something that Steve had been waiting for since that day in the parking lot, seeing you leave with him on your first date.

"I―I" You stammered, trying to collect your thoughts; trying to make sure you didn't make yourself an idiot, "Got to poop." It didn't work. You bolted to the back of the house down to the bathroom, where you quickly shut the door. You pressed your back against it, shutting your eyes trying to collect your breath. You felt your heart race, pounding against your ribs, wanting to get out. The knock on the door scared you. You turned, hesitant to open it as you knew exactly who was on the other side.

When the door open, it showed that boy in front of you. Steve looked concerned, but there was a tug at the corner of his lips; giving him a smile. "Hey, you're ok?" He questioned.

"Uh, yeah." You returned, "False alarm." You shook your head, cursing to yourself for letting that be the answer you gave Steve. Your eyes wandered up to see that he was laughing at you. He leaned against the frame, bringing up one hand to play with the sleeve of your shirt.

"So, I did hear it." He softly spoke, so quiet that you almost didn't catch it. He finally gazed into your eyes, seeing the confused look on your face, "The night when Billy beat me." He clarified. You felt like you were about to pass out, forgetting to breathe: forgetting to function. His hand had made its way up to your cheek, cupping it. His thumb lightly brushed your bottom lip, leaving it partly open, "That you love me."

You found no words, your mind forgetting how to speak, only being able to give him a slight nod. The confirmation made Steve beam in happiness, not giving it another second to crash his lips onto yours. Your hands quickly went to his shirt, clutching on the material to pull him closer to you. The kiss still had the same amount of passion as the other times. They had the same amount of love and admiration as the ones before them. The electricity that your lips felt, the tingle of his touching yours, again and again, made you feel invigorated.

You let out a whimper when Steve parted away from you. His eyes fixated on yours, "Tell me." He whispered.

"I love you," You panted, tugging on his shirt to come closer, "I love you, Steve Harrington." You pull him down, brushing your lips against his but you heard a faint yell coming from the living room. You tried to ignore it, to go back to the person in front of you.

"Steve! Y/N!" Until it was Mike's voice that came into the room. You and Steve quickly pulled away from each other. Scratching your arm as he with his head. Looking away from each other. You directed your attention down the hall to see Mike making his way to you.

"What's so important, Wheeler?" Steve shouted, clearly annoyed that he was interrupted yet again by him. Every time something important was happening between you and Steve: Mike was in the picture.

"Dustin!" Mike snapped. The name made you come out of the bathroom to stand next to Steve. Your face was written with worry, Steve's copying. Mike looked at the both of you, clearly out of breath from running, "They have him." He said, his voice shaking a bit.

You looked up towards Steve. His gaze was intense and clearly not leaving Mike. You saw that Steve had held his breath, his hand tightens into a fist and a frown tugging at his mouth. Mike looked away for a brief moment until returning; his speech more steady.

"Eight took Dustin."

Tagged: @quoirez @sociallyimpairedme @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @innocent-moon-bean @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aiolii @thinemineours @oldwanderingsoul @bellamy-fuck @sarcasticvodka @airforcecollins @writerunhuman @hxrrxngtxn @bisexualscullys @steve-harington@lethargicalyssa @qxeen-of-hearts @kararanae23 @sillycrazygirl @queeeenofscots @zerodays02 @erinmehbrooks @sippindacres @ashley-esme @pandaseatingcupcakes @rvrdxle @hogwartsnexttopmodel @astrangerblog11 @allkindfangirl @shineefivebyyourside@expectopatronumr @greendaycliffoconda @ssweet-empowerment @ginger-swag-rapunzel @hufflepuffcommonroomrules @hanasamara @leilei-draws @sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack @hollandspcter @phantomjs @wefracturedmotivation @cauldronfalls @flieformybrain@thors-hair-extensions @fandom-queen-of-hearts@klainefra @spookierichie @loverboy-holland@soooogrunge @kmneesocks @itskatiemahoney @wonderxluster @harringtonwife @pattyweareone @leetime14@my-fandomful-life @lamesister @shieldgirl95 @coolyoungbouquetdestinylove @anton-shudders @jorgiepiie @funelatra @stanleyurisprotectionsquad @mckaylab25 @acciohermionejg @cherriesinspring @l4life @jimmyisfab @cupcaitlyn96 @wayward-221tardis @tunadean @emmaelizabeth2014 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @djdre92 @punkrockandchemicalx @alwaysmebeforeyou @love-untiltheresnoloveleft @myteenwolf-world @capandbuck @scarletl12 @lemonchapstick

[ketzwrites]

The “Raphael vs The Law” Debate

Here is a compilation of opinions on the matter of world-building continuity: Did Raphael break the Accords like Izzy claims or is that a break with the world building of Season 1?

Under the cut for the arguments. It’s really long.

Round I: Is torturing Heidi a crime against the Accords?

Anonymous 1 asked: How is anything that went on with Raphael the claves business? What he did was wrong, but Heidi was already a vampire by the time the whole thing happened.

My answer: I’ve been asking that myself. The only thing I can think of is that the Clave could blame him for making Heidi into a bigger threat to mundanes that vampires already are.

But that is such a stretch and being “more dangerous than regular” is not a crime. Besides, Raphael had no direct involvement with Heidi attacking, killing, and turning a mundane: those are crimes she committed on her own. 

What Raphael did to Heidi was horrible, but it was strictly between Downworlders. It should’ve been handled by the clan, not by any Shadowhunter. Izzy had absolutely no grounds to banish Raphael and, in fact, by doing so she is interfering in Downworlder business, something that has been established by the show as a bad thing. 

Don’t get me wrong, Raphael should’ve lost his position and suffer consequences for what he’s done to Heidi. But it should’ve been decided by the vampires. His punishment coming from a Shadowhunter and grounded on crimes committed against the Clave is a break from the world building and it takes away the Downworlders’ autonomy to take care of their own affairs.

@some-little-infamy  said: I took that scene to mean that the Clave (and Izzy) would have issue with what he was doing WITH Heidi, not her existence alone. The fact that he had her captive against her will, experimenting on her -- all things she saw evidence of when she followed him down there and he tried to clean it all up quick -- THAT was what I figured the Clave would take action against. Sure, they mostly leave vampires to their own rules, but to know something like that was going on?!?! (I could be way off though!)

Anonymous 2 asked: Since heidi will not die in this episode. But it is safe to say that she wouldn't be able to hide for long from a shadowhunters investigation. Clary has been shown able to track simon. Do you think raphael will fall deeper in the mess he created by having another vampire take the fall? Namely the vampire who was guarding heidi. Because I cannot think of any other reasonable reason why clary and izzy will not track heidi eventually unless they think they got the killer already.

I think your first message got lost. That might be something about the “killer” you mentioned. I’ll answer this last part, though.

So, here’s the thing: the Shadowhunters only have jurisdiction as far as the crimes committed against Heidi as a mundane. Those were: 1. giving her vampire blood to drink and thus turning her into a fledgling and 2. killing her. Obs: Because Heidi was giving her blood voluntarily, technically neither Simon nor Quinn broke the Accords by drinking from her.

Bear in mind that a fledgling can agree to become a vampire by signing a Writ of Transmutation (1x12).

So, the people that committed crimes against mundane!Heidi were Quinn (who killed her) and maybe Simon (if he is her sire). Heidi’s post-fact consent would easily pardon Simon and Quinn is already dead. As for Raphael, he wasn’t persecuted for helping to bring Simon back once he was already dead, so I can’t fathom why he would be with Heidi.

Now, Raphael’s treatment of Heidi as a vampire is outside of the Clave’s jurisdiction. The Shadowhunters do not have the authority to tell the Downworlders how to treat each other. Even if Clary or Izzy (or any other Shadowhunter) learned of Heidi’s existence, they cannot go after Raphael for torturing her or keeping her in captivity.

The only people who could do anything about it would be the vampires themselves (by overthrowing Raphael or locking him up, for example).

Conclusion: No. That is a crime against Heidi, but it doesn’t violate the Law in the Accords as the Shadowhunters are not supposed to interfere in how Downworlders treat each other. The clan should be the ones with autonomy to punish Raphael for his crimes against another vampire.

Second round: Is bringing Heidi back without her previous consent against the Accords?

@galtenoble replied: I assumed the issue was turning her into a vampire, with no writ of transmutation, for the express purpose of experimenting on her.

My answer: I’d accept turning her into a vampire being a crime, but nothing happened to Raphael when he did that do Simon. Nobody even mentioned it being against the law to Clary when she was weighing the options. Plus, Raphael’s coup against Camille’s regime was entirely based on her risking the clan by breaking Shadowhunters Laws and then his first act as leader was breaking the Shadowhunters Law? As for the reason that she was turned, does that matters to the Clave? Urg, just grab a handful of Heidi’s grave dirt and summon her already. Or did they forget they could do that too?

Conclusion: Inconclusive. What is confirmed is that turning a mundane into a fledgling and killing them is a crime against the Accords and requires a Writ of Transmutation to be absolved.

Round III: Does Heidi post-fact consent absolve Raphael of any crimes in bringing her back?

Anonymous 3 asked: Turning people into vampires without their consent is considered illegal to the clave so raphael doing it to heidi was illegal. Heidi would never have turned if it wasn't for raphael actions. So it was a punishable crime. With simon it was different because there raphael was covered. He came to the institute and told the lightwoods and jace what happened. And he left the choice on them. The clave cannot punish him for this because members of the clave game him permission to do this.

My answer: Yes, turning people without proper paperwork is a problem to the Clave. 

But Heidi wanted to be turned:

“First time that I went to a bleeder den, I was looking for an escape from a miserable life. After my first bite, I was hooked. It wasn’t just all the high of vampire venom. I wanted to be one. (…)” Heidi to Raphael, 3x04 ----  Heidi: “I guess that I should thank you for, at least, giving me a better life.” Raphael: “For giving you life at all. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be alive at all. This life you wanted, I gave it to you.” Hiedi: “You’re right. (…)” Heidi to Raphael, 3x04

Is the permission of a member of the Clave more important than the mundane’s consent to be turned into a vampire? The bleeder dens are in a gray area of the law because the mundanes that go there are willing to give their blood. There is no permission from the Clave for them to exist, but the bleeder dens don’t break the law.

In Simon’s case, he had to sign a writ of transmutation to rid Camille of any implication of his turning. That was done in the presence of a member of the Clave, who witnessed it all (Clary). That means Simon’s post-fact consent absolved Camille from turning him into a fledgling and killing him. Why does Heidi’s post-fact consent doesn’t absolve Raphael from turning her? 

Izzy didn’t ask if Raphael had a writ of transmutation, she just told him he had committed crimes that could be reported to the Clave. And that was after she saw the evidence of Heidi’s captivity.

@magical-magnus said: About what the previous anon said. Simon never gave his consent either. Camille was his sire and she made him sign the write of transmutation because shes the one who turned a mundane by biting him. Raphael only brought him back. Heidis case is just like that. Either Simon or Quinn are his sire, Raphael just brought her back. Much like he did with Simon. If [Raphael] wasn't held guilty in Simon's case, no shadowhunter has the right to banish him now.

Conclusion: Yes, Heidi’s post-fact consent can absolve Raphael of bringing her back if that is, in fact, a crime. Bleeder dens are considered to be in a gray area of the Accords because the mundanes are giving their blood freely so mundane consent exempts vampires from crimes against them.

Round IV: Is Izzy saying Raphael of committed a crime against the Accords a break from the world-building or not?

Anonymous 3 asked: Hmm did you see heidi ever give consent to raphael to turn her? It doesn't matter if she wanted it deep down raphael never knew it before he did it. So it is a crime. If anyone found heidi and she did not want to say she wanted to be a vampire raphael was screwed and to be fair she wouldn't so they would kill raphael for what he did to her. To say it privately means nothing,officially there is no evidence whatsoever of heidi absolving raphael of him turning her. Camille had simon write evidence while raphael had zero evidence. Officially he stole her body,turned her against her will and she tried to kill him. And she is a rogue vampire who killed people. Raphael is screwed. But either way the fact is you are debating whether he broke the law but you don’t know the law. Not all the details anyway. It is more simple than you think if raphael didn’t commit any crimes he would have told isabelle there is nothing to report but he didn’t so he broke some laws we might or might know of them.

My answer: No, what I’m discussing is the consistency of the world building. That is why all my arguments are based on what has happened on the show in situations similar to this one. It is a much worse problem than the technicalities of what constitutes proof for the Clave.

The episode already broke with the lore of Shadowhunters by having Heidi first kill a mundane and then decide to turn him into a vampire. She couldn’t have done it because, in this show, a mundane has to become a fledgling before dying. 

If the writers want Raphael to accept that he committed a crime, he will regardless of that being in accordance with what has been established. We’re talking about characters, after all. Their actions depend on the intention of the writers. What bind the writers are the rules of the world they are writing in. And, in this case, I say they broke the rules to achieve the end of the episode they wanted. 

But if you want to discuss this as a judicial case regardless of the writers’ intention, consider this: Heidi can lie about wanting to become a vampire and Raphael can lie about bringing her back from the grave. Nobody can prove he was the one that did it; no more than Raphael can force Heidi to say the truth. Raphael is not her sire, nor did he kill her. He can easily say he found her already turned. All the hard evidence that exists is that he kept her in captivity and tortured her. In the end, it would be her word against his and Raphael already told two Shadowhunters he didn’t know who Heidi was. He has not admitted to bringing her back from the grave, so if there was a trial and he didn’t want to depend on Heidi’s testimony, that’s an easy line of defense.

There isn’t an end to this discussion, though. There won’t be a trial because the writers don’t want one. If you look at the bigger picture, it all depends on the writers’ commitment to the universe. In this episode, that wasn’t a priority and it hurts this storyline’s credibility.

Anonymous 4 said: *did you see heidi ever give consent to raphael to turn her* the issue was not about Heidi’s consent. The scene clearly shows Isabelle being rightfully disgusted with Raphael experimenting on (torturing) someone for his own selfish reasons. Unfortunately, to show her conflicting feelings towards Raphael, they introduced a piece of information that contradicts already established canon. One of the major S1 conflicts was based on shadowhunters NOT interfering with downworlder affairs of any kind. According to S1, Raphael’s mistreatment of a fellow vampire should be classified as an internal affair, which Isabelle has no authority to interfere with, even if what he did was morally wrong. But now this case is suddenly supposed to be under Clave’s jurisdiction, which Isabelle is obliged to report. It’s an example of a contrived world building :/

Anonymous 5 said: ‘Turning people into vampires without their consent is considered illegal to the clave’ while this is true, the crime Isabelle had to report to the Clave was Raphael torturing a vampire. We can see that Isabelle confronts Raphael about his experiments on Heidi for personal benefit, not about turning Heidi without her consent. This retcons the earlier established concept of the Clave’s prohibition of any involvement into downworlders’ internal affairs, which was shown multiple times during S1

Conclusion: Raphael being accused of acting against the Accords seems to be a break from the world-building.

Arguments: 

We know for a fact that turning a mundane into a fledgling (giving them vampire blood) and killing them is against the Accords, as Camille had Simon sign a Writ of Transmutation to absolve her. 

We do not know if the act of bringing a fledgling back from the dead is against the Accords as that was Raphael’s role in Simon’s turning and neither was persecuted for doing it against Simon’s will.

We know a post-fact consent absolves the crimes of turning a mundane into a fledgling and killing them; it should absolve bringing the fledgling from the dead if that is, in fact, a crime.

We know the Clave is against Shadowhunters interfering in Downworlders affairs, so whatever happened between Raphael and Heidi after she was brought back is not a concern of the Clave but of the vampire clan.

TL:DR: It seems that either Raphael can be persecuted for bringing Heidi back, in which case he should’ve been for bringing Simon back too and Heidi’s post-fact consent might absolve him or it seems that Izzy claims the Clave can regulate how Downworlders treat each other, in which case there is a break in the world building of season 1 where Shadowhunters weren’t allowed to interfere in “Downworlders business.” Either way, Raphael accepting Izzy’s banishment doesn’t make sense in the context of the show.

[sabraeal]

Hi Jen :)))

He never thought the mortal world could be so draining.

Not that it decreases his power, oh no; his geasa still shift and bite at him like he is the runt of the litter, the weak dog in the pack. The shadows comes to him as easy here as ever, though Miss has requested he resist the temptation to use them. He’d silently balked at the request – as if he didn’t know when and where his magicks were safe to practice – but seeing those two children nearly get the upper hand on him had put him in place.

Obi may be sly and cunning, but oh, could that princess give him a few pointers.

No, his weariness has nothing to do with his magicks, but instead something to do with – with himself. He is less…distinct here, less himself. Obi plays the role of fey knight well, always at his miss’s left hand, always ready to place himself between her and danger –

And perhaps that is the problem. What is making the dark veil over his memories warp and wrinkle, what is making it disappear.

There was a time where he would have welcomed this. Not anymore, not now.

Not when he is uncertain how close danger lurks.

His room here is finer than the one Master gave him; Obi notices that first when he arrives, shortly before the adjoining door. He grins now when he sees the bed fit for three, the golden filigree across the high ceilings, the fancy doors leading out onto the private balcony. It is only to be expected; in His Majesty’s court he is a servant, a changeling and a thief, but here – oh here, in this mortal realm, he is something to be feared.

He once was in the otherworld too. It’s so easy to forget, now.

His hand flexes.

He needs – air. Space. Something that is not this.

The balcony door open easily in his hands. He used it once that first night, not wanting to be seen leaving his chambers, cloaking himself in shadows and exploring the grounds. He’s tempted to do so again, to let himself escape in the burn of his own magic –

Only to be reminded, so sharply, that his balcony is only private so long as his miss is not using it.

“Obi!” she seems as surprise as he is, eyes wide and dark in the moonlight. “You were awake?”

“Was I?” The evasion is rote now; he barely feels a sting. “So hard to recall…”

She walks with her dreamy lope towards him, and the distinct smell of her magic hits him, making his fingers burn with memory. “You were too, Miss?”

“Yeah.” She stops, hand on the rail between their balconies. She’s not looking at him, however, nor even at the grounds; she’s looking far into the distance, to a horizon only she can see. “I was thinking about what Zen and the others are doing right now.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” The words fall out easily, and he wonders if it would sting him were he not as human as he was. Master was never far from his thoughts, these days, but –

But those only seemed to come after ones of Miss.

“You know,” he sighs, drawing close to where their balconies kiss, “when I’m alone, I start missing the master.”

Her mouth curls at one corner; a sly look he’s starting to realize is hers more than her sweet ones. Perhaps they all play roles for their Master.

“He hasn’t scolded me recently, and it’s throwing me off.” She smiles at that, looking on the edge of laughter, and he can play this to the hilt if that’s what she wants, this loyal dog.

“Zen’s probably lonely, too,” she says, and the words are strangely comforting. He would like to believe –

Well, that doesn’t matter.

“Miss.” He puts a hand on his hip, feigning disappointment. “This is where you say, ‘I’m missing Zen, too.’“

“Oh!” Her cheeks pink in the moonlight. “Really? I…ah…”

“What else would you do?” He sweeps out a hand, gesturing to the horizon that both their eyes can seen. “You say it as you gaze at the stars.”

“The stars.” He sees her take them in, this endless expanse of night. “You know,” she says, so low it’s almost a whisper, “before Raj’s people came here, the elders were known for their astronomy.”

He hums, interested. “I didn’t. I don’t know much about this place.”

“Oh!” She ducks her head, suddenly shy. “Of course not, I didn’t mean –”

“Don’t stop,” he tells her, voice so much lower than he means it. Her cheeks flush. “I mean…I would like to know more.”

“Oh, yes.” Her gaze strays out to the stars once again. “There’s not much to tell. So much of the knowledge was lost when this land was conquered. What survived had been passed among the cunning folk, master to apprentice, for generations.”

There’s a subtle devastation to her features, like a woman who has watched her own house burn with all her earthy treasures inside. Only it is not just her house, but her people’s, ransacked and taken from them before they even knew what they had lost.

It is the face of someone who knows not everything can be replaced.

“You know, the stars are different in the otherworld,”  He leans his arms on the balustrade, letting her sweet scent curl around him. A dangerous game, but he’s never known how to play safe.

She blinks. “Really? I hadn’t thought to check.”

“Oh yes.” He slants a look toward her. “Here these are…balls of gas, burning bright but distant in the void, but in the otherworld – they are heroes. Gods. Its is all – what are they called? – frescoes. Paintings on the firmament of the world.”

“Not really.”

“Of course it is.” He smiles. “They are all stories writ large.”

Her smile is soft, but her eyes sharp. “They say they are here too. The stars are those who passed into the west, who have traveled through the mists to Mag Mell. The constellations are those the old gods wanted remembered.”

He grins. “But you know that isn’t true. You’ve gone through the veil.”

“I do. I could take a ship to Mag Mell if I never cared about returning.”

His heart should not ache so much when she says such things. Plants wither. Seasons pass. Mortals die. He knows this best of all.

“You know what lies beyond the veil,” he tells her, “here it is just stories. There the tales are true.”

“Tell me one,” she says, and he does not miss the challenge in it. “Tell me about one of the people in the night sky.”

“It’s already late, Miss. You should –”

She lifts one curved brow. He shouldn’t.

But she is so close, heat and magic seeping into him from where he stands, and he –

He does not know how to say no, not to her.

“If that is what my mistress desires.” He makes a great show of casting about for a story, but it lives right on the tip of his tongue, eager to be told. “There was a woman once, who stole from the hunt.”

“A mortal woman?”

“What other kind?” He licked his lips. “A mortal woman. Her lover was made a hound in the Hunt –”

“So she was stolen from first.”

He hesitates. “That’s not how it’s told beneath the mounds.”

She hums, amused. “Of course not.”

“In any case, he belonged to the Hunt.” He swallows, tongue growing heavy in his mouth. The tang of copper is fresh on the air; he can tell she smells it from how her nose crinkled. “A geas that lasts a lifetime. Once a year a hound may become a man, if only to remember what he has lost.”

“What did her lover do to be turned into a hound?”

He shrugs away the sting. “Did he have to do something?”

“Oh!” She’s far too close to be looking at him like this. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting.”

“It’s my geas,” he tells her simply. “It’s not yours to remember.”

Her mouth pulls down at the corners. “But I should. I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“It’s not so –”

“It’s not about the magnitude,” she tells him, eyes so serious on his. “I don’t want to do it at all.”

His heart flutters strangely in his chest.

“As I was saying,” he says, clearing his throat, turning his eyes to the safety of the stars. “He would turn into a man and lay with his woman on this single night. Only once, she took a knife to him, and took a corner of his ear.”

His miss balks, and he grins. “It was clever. She went through the veil when the Hunt finished its ride, and in their great camp beneath the mounds, she found the notched-eared dog and carried him back.”

“Bringing him back broke his –?” She catches herself, and tries, “She brought him through to break his geas.”

“Perhaps. It’s rarely that simple.” He tilted his head back, taking in the mighty hunter in the mortal sky. “The woman with her hound lover is in our sky, though how she broke the geas of the Hunt is…lost.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

He grins. “Miss, such sarcasm. Careful,” he warns, dropping his voice low, “you might charm me, if you show such a sense of humor.”

She flushes, ducking her head. “I doubt that’s very likely.”

His teeth flash in a grin. “Ah, Miss,” he sighs around his ache, “you never know.”

[trexrambling]

Used to This - Part IV

Overview: You’ve lived with the Winchesters for years as a fellow hunter, and everyone has always stayed well in the friend zone. What happens when nightmares come haunting and Dean offers to help? Will things change, or is it all in your head?

Characters: Dean, Reader, a smidgen of Sam

Word Count: 1,638

Warnings: injury with lots of blood, mild language, some snark, some fluff, some questioning of coffee stipulations

A/N: There should only be one more part to go... But my brain sometimes scraps those plans. Thanks for all the love you guys have shown me for this :)

Beta’d by: @wheresthekillswitch - “I freaking love all of this fic but especially this part.” <-- you guys should guess which section she meant

Also beta’d by: @hannahindie - “the patented 'voice raises three octaves when a Winchester drops trou three feet away from you'.”

Read: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

“Dean, let me carry her so you can-”

“I’ve got her, Sam.”

“Look, you should-”

“I said I’ve got her.”

“How is she?”

“Just keep driving.”

“She’s losing a lot of blood. Why aren’t we going to the hospital, Dean?”

“Because if she lives through this she’ll kill me for taking her there.”

“I care about her, too. She’s family. Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Sam, just drive.”

“Don’t you dare leave me. You hear me, Y/N? Don’t you dare. Sam would never let me hear the end of it. And you still owe me ten dollars from that bet in Wyoming. So… just keep breathing, okay? You’re still here. I’ve got you.”

I woke up screaming, my hands flying up to tear away the blinding pain and sharp jabs from the base of my skull. Strong hands grabbed my wrists, pulled them to my front and trapped them within a single hand’s grasp while the other pushed my hips down firmly to fight against my thrashing. Another set of hands were on the side of my neck, my left temple, efficiently keeping my head still. I felt trapped, felt the tears spill over as I tried to move away again.

“Y/N! It’s Dean. It’s just me and Sam. Hey, look at me.”

My eyes were swollen and heavy as I opened them, squinting in the too bright light and aimlessly flickering as they searched for something to focus on. I found a dark red stain on the fabric in front of me and stared at it until its edges lost their fuzziness. I was lying on my side, on a bed, and as more and more red spots came into focus I realized what they were. That’s my blood. That’s a lot of my blood.

My eyes traveled to my confined wrists, recognizing the silver ring and strong fingers holding me still. I felt the bed dip beside me, and flannel and green blocked out the bloodstains. Dean’s head came to rest on the mattress, his nose inches from mine. He kept a steady grip on my wrists as he drew my hands to his chest. His other hand continued to push my waist down, but as he felt me grow still his thumb gently rubbed soothing circles against the exposed skin on my upper hip.

“We’ve got to stitch you up so the bleeding will stop,” Dean stated matter of factly. His calm tone helped offset my panic.

I swallowed deeply, the pain in my cranium unrelenting in its attack on my nervous system. “How bad is it?” I croaked out.

Dean slowly let go of my wrists and reached up to brush some stray hair from my face. “Well, bad enough that you’ll need a new blanket for your bed. Unless you like abstract blood art.”

I sniffed. “I just bought this bedspread.”

Dean’s thumb moved to wipe the tears off my cheeks. “I know.” He looked past me. “Ready, Sam?”

“Yeah. You’ll have to hold her still. It’s deep.”

Sam’s hands slid off my neck and temple, and I felt a tug as he pulled the thread tight through my skin. My legs twitched, and I hissed in pain. My fingers found Dean’s flannel and clutched the fabric tightly.

“Just breathe, Y/N,” Dean said gently. His legs wrapped around mine, trapping them in place. His right hand stayed on my waist while his left came up and behind my head. His fingers rested just above the tip of my ear, and he cradled my head firmly against the crook of his arm so my cheek was resting on his bicep.

“You got her?” Sam asked. I could feel his breath on my neck as he got close to keep stitching.

“Yeah, I’ve got her,” Dean replied. He looked at me then. “I really hope you pass out.”

“Gee, thanks,” I wheezed out, “If I die, all my money goes to Sam, especially that ten dollars.”

Dean smiled at me, and for a second I only felt warmth.

And then the needle hit my raw skin.

I did my best to hold still, but the overwhelming pain sent spasms throughout my muscles. I felt Dean’s grip grow tighter and tighter, heard him talking to me without really understanding what he was saying. I tried to focus on his voice as my limbs trembled against my own will.

And then, true to Dean’s wishes, everything went black again.

Fire.

It started at the back of my head and pulsed pain throughout my skull, down my neck, fading out in a steady ache along my shoulders.

I groaned and brought a shaky hand up to gingerly trace the gauze I found securely taped to my head and upper neck. I felt the lumpy line where Sam had managed to piece my skin back together, as well as a lack of what should have been hair bumps. In fact, aside from my soon to be scar, it felt pretty smooth under the bandage.

“Oh hey, you’re awake,” Dean greeted me, leaning forward in the chair he’d placed beside the bed. He reached out to place two fingers along the underside of my jaw. I stiffened at the contact.

“Are you checking my pulse?”

“Yep.”

My eyes rolled and took in my surroundings in the process. “Is this your room?”

“Also yes,” Dean answered, pulling his hand away. “Your bed could have fed a vampire by the time Sam finished stitching you up.”

My fingers sought the bandage again, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did you… did you guys shave part of my hair off?”

Dean’s facial features froze in a lopsided smile. He leaned back slightly. “Um… yeah. Yes. That might have happened.”

“Dude, what the hell?!” I snapped, moving to sit up and immediately plopping back down at the wave of dizziness that swept through my system. I scrunched my eyes shut and moaned into the pillow, “Just because Sam won’t let you cut his hair doesn’t mean that mine is fair game.”

Dean chuckled softly. “We only shaved off what we needed to. It was either that or let you bleed out.”

“The latter, please and thank you.”

“I never took you for the beauty queen type, Y/N.”

“S’not that,” I growled at him, “everything just hurts. I feel like pudding with nerve endings.”

I opened my eyes to see Dean looking at me, concern narrowing his eyes. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. A small smirk turned up one corner of his mouth, “Maybe some coffee?”

“Oh, you’re funny.”

“I’m hilarious.”

I rolled my eyes again. “I really just want to sleep.”

Dean tapped his forehead. “Head injury, remember? Sam said to wake you up every hour, just to be safe.”

“Well that’s just great,” I groaned.

“Well, you could be dead, so there’s that.”

“You can take that insightful optimism and shove it straight up your-”

“Hey.”

Dean’s hand touched my shoulder, sending a different form of fire shooting through my arm. I looked at him closely for the first time. He was still in his hunting clothes, dark bloodstains coating his sleeves and dotting his jeans. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair askew from where he’d obviously been running his hands through it. He looked more tired than I’d seen him in months.

“Have you slept at all?” I whispered.

He smiled slightly. “Worried about me, Y/LN?”

I met his gaze. “Yes. You look like hell.”

Dean’s hand slid off my shoulder, traced a route down my arm, and stopped at my hand before lightly curling his fingers around mine. He stared at our hands as he gently rubbed the back of mine with his thumb, and I watched as his brain broke down all the thoughts he had stored in it.

He looked at me again. “For a second there I thought I was going to have to burn another friend’s body.”

I squeezed his fingers as best I could, not really sure what to say.

He was quiet for a moment before he continued. “So you heard the part about the ten dollars, huh?”

“It’s a vague memory.”

“Hear anything else?”

I smiled. “Besides threats to my life if I died, not really.” I saw relief flash across his face, and my curiosity was instantly piqued. “Why? What’d I miss?”

Dean squeezed my hand before sliding his fingers away. “Just Sam comparing hair lengths with you while we shaved it all off.”

I scowled. “If I could move without passing out I would punch you, Winchester.”

“Well, thank goodness for major head trauma then.” He stood and started to strip off his clothes, dropping his bloodstained flannel on the ground before quickly shimmying out of his jeans.

My eyes went wide. “Whatcha doing?” It came out as a squeak. I blamed the head injury for my vocal cord incompetency.

“I thought you wanted to sleep?”

“Well yeah, but-”

“And you’re in my bed.”

“I mean you moved me here so-”

“And someone has to wake you up every hour.”

“But Sam isn’t a doctor so how do we know-”

“Y/N.”

I snapped my mouth closed.

It’s just coffee, I told my brain.

Dean pulled back the covers on the empty side of the bed.

It’s just Dean.

I felt him crawl in beside me, his warmth already trickling to my side despite him keeping his distance.

It doesn’t mean anything.

The light clicked off, and I heard him sigh as he settled all the way into the bed.

It’s just-

An arm wrapped around my waist.

It doesn’t-

Dean’s lips ghosted along the edge of the bandage on my neck.

...mean…

His legs found mine.

...anything.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Talk to you in an hour.”

-Read Part 5-

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