#hes just moving far more pieces and has a few more frenemies

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

im super mad that the king continues to web his schemes and takes advantage of everyone in reach, including his enemy‘s plots against him, because that turns mongwoo and her group (and everyone else i dearly like) into a pawn the king controls. at the same time, its super smart and i appreciate that he doesnt just stop being a scheming asshole simply because hes in a complicated relationship with his baduk buddy. hes still burning with the same flame as he did when his brother died in his arms and he was ready to throw everything dear to him away, sacrificing it, for his political goals. i respect that

[igotanidea]

five years later : Jason Todd x fem!reader

the graphic is not mine, found it on Pinterest, all credit goes to the author.

Another piece of Cheshire!reader!verse aka what happened earlier, when Cheshire (Y/N) found out Jason was not in fact dead.

Other parts are: Cheshire cat and That damn gala and can be read regardless.

Warnings: all of it. Smut. Insecurities and mentions of scars. Angst. Mentions of Jay flings and Y/N unsatisfying relationships. Fluff at the end. MINORS DNI!

Loosely inspired on the song "Lost in the fire" by The Weeknd.

The air in the room was filled with so much tension and palpable electricity that the slightest spark could set it able. Y/N and Jason were sitting on the opposite sides, eyeing each other. She was suspicious, cold and unwavering. He was a bit nervous, shy and unsure what to say.

“So….” she started crossing her arms over chest “ you were dead”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get bored?” she mocked

“What?” the visible hurt in his eyes did not make her change this tone. She was angry, she felt betrayed and most definitely were not going to let him get away with everything he has done easily. “How could you….?”

“did they kick you out of Hell?”

“Y/n…..”

“No, Jace. Did they kick you out? I bet even the devil didn’t want you after he learned you played a trick like that on your family and …. friend….” She hesitated on the last word. Honestly, she had no idea if they were friends? Lovers? Frenemies? Before everything turned to shit they kissed a few times and were trying to become something more but now she wasn’t ready if what they had before was still on.

“Well that is far from a warm welcome I was expecting…..” he looked down a bit depressed. If she did not want him he truly had nowhere else to go. Bats rejected him, he was not going to turn to Bruce and she was his only hope. Apparently gone now.

“Are you serious?” her tone was cold as ice and so was her gaze “it’s been five freaking years, Todd” oh, shit, she was using his last name now. Silent fury, the worst kind. “You were dead. And they I just get a call from Dick with the most mysterious message : he’s alive. And apparently he has been for a while now. Tell me, Red Hood, because that is who you are now, right? Was is fun? Was it worth it?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like? Go on, I’m being merciful here, you have one chance to explain it and then I don’t want to see you again. “

“I was dead” he sighed deeply “and then…. Then I got resurrected.” He sighed deeply knowing well enough she was not going to believe him

“Don’t give me this religious shit about bringing people back from the dead” she rolled her eyes and stood up in frustration

“Y/N….” he raised to her height as well, now his 6’4 figure towering over her “please, you have to believe me, I’m telling the truth. There’s this place called Lazarus pit. I… I was thrown there and …. came back.” He absentmindedly reached for her hands but she moved away.

“Yeah, I heard a legend about it. But sure as hell you did not crawl there by yourself. Who helped you? Was it someone I know?” Jason muttered something incoherently “sorry? What was that? And don’t try to lie, you know I am a human lie detector.”

“Thalia al Ghul.” He mumbled and his cheeks became a bit flushed

“Shut up!” she let out a desperate laugh.

“It’s true.”

“Oh, I know, I see it in your eyes. And on your whole face. God damn it! Thalia Al Ghul. Like Dami’s assassin mother?” still laughing she raised an eyebrow making sure she put the two dots together and hummed in satisfaction when he nodded “that is crazy. Wait till I tell him……”

“Don’t you dare!” he yelled moving closer to her.

“Oh, there you are. Not so quiet and repentant anymore. Good, nice to know you still got problems with anger management. Now, one more thing. Should I tell Damian that you and his mother actually had an affair?” she smirked with venom in her voice “that you….”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!!” he was now even closer but she was the one who always liked to play with fire and push on his buttons.

“That you fucked his mother? Because you did, didn’t .....?”

Before she could finish this sentence Jason had her pressed against the wall, his chest moving up and down in frustration, panting

“Auch!”she mocked, but the impact really was painful even if she did expect it.

“You are a brat. Always have been. Guess nothing changed for the last five years.”

“Or maybe your time with League of Assassins exacerbated your temper? I mean you always had issues but now it’s seems completely out of control. Didn’t they teach you how to keep your cool?”

“How do you know about….?” He moved back, surprised with her words. He did not tell anyone what he was doing during the last years.

“Come on. Thalia? You just said it yourself. If she helped you, you definitely stayed there. It’s simple dots connecting. Oh, my god. That would be a spit and disgrace for Bruce if he ever were to find out! I can literally imagine his face right now.” She laughed hard, not moved by the fact that only a second earlier she was brutally pinned against the wall. She was a vigilante, things like that did not bother her.

“Will you just shut up!?” he yelled in frustration.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be the one to tell him. That’s one thing I can do for you” she smirked “Cheshire knows exactly how to keep a secret and yours is safe, all right? Now will you just calm down?”

“How do you expect me to calm down?” his gaze fixed on her and for the first time in a long, long time she was completely frozen by the look in his eyes “Do you know what you are doing to me?” he groaned

“Jason……” her eyes went wider and wider when he started moving towards her again and soon had her cornered. “Fuck!” she hissed. There was nowhere to run now and she mentally facepalmed herself for not taking precautions. She was not scared. Jason could be angered and violent, but he would never hurt her, right? Despite that rational part of her brain, telling her that it was still her Jace, her vigilante instincts got the best of her when she ducked under his arms and moved to the other side of the room.

The sound, the groan that came from the back of his throat when she wriggled out of his reach was not human. God, she always knew how to get on his nerves. So why the fuck did he still love her? Why did he want her? Now. Immediately. He wanted her under him, writhing and moaning his name in indefinite pleasure as he would go down on her, getting exactly where she needed him and giving her everything. He wanted to feel her against him, caressing her perfect body, showing her how much he missed her for those last years.  He needed to feel her and her touch on every scar he got from his fights. He wanted to kiss every place, every square centimeters of her smooth skin, her neck, collarbone, her breasts and belly button. He wanted her lips and those sweet sounds he knew she would make. He wanted to make her feel so fucking good. He craved to assure her that she was the only one on his mind. Ever. He needed to hear her whisper that she was his. He needed to know that she loved him too, that he was the only one for her. Fuck! He saw it in her eyes and if he was someone else he wouldn’t even hesitate just took her right there, right now, without asking, without waiting for her to say yes, just getting what he wanted. That was what Red Hood would do. However, she was still his sweet, beloved Y/N. Unruly and challenging but still he never wanted to break her. And just to her, he didn’t want to be the vigilante, the anti-hero. He wanted to be Jason Todd, the boy she knew before, hoping this would be enough and that she wouldn’t turn him away. Oh, he was getting such dirty thought…. The fact that he spaced out did not pass her

“Jaybird?” his eyes got a bit glassy when her voice switched from Cheshire  mode to concerned words of Y/N as she used his nickname “Jay?”

His lust filled eyes landed on her, pupils blown unnaturally, dark and with so much need and …..love. she involuntarily took a deep breath and just by seeing her like this, now completely vulnerable, with chapped lips, so innocent and frightened made him hard.

“Jay, why are you looking at me like that?” her voice trembled. Was she scared of him? That is not what he wanted. Slowly, carefully not to made her run away from him again he took a step forward. And then another and other, getting braver when she did not move, eyes searching his face “why are you…..?”

“You know I want you…..” he whispered “I always wanted you. Even when I was with…. anyone else, there was only you.” his face was now inches apart from hers and he could tell she wanted him too and were struggling to keep her composure and self-control. That was what she was learned, never give up control.

“Wait, you thought about me when you were having sex with other women? Ugh. That is seriously messed up and sick.”

“Y/N….” he whispered against her skin, brushing his nose over hers “You know I’ve always loved you…. I know I messed up, but give me one chance to fix it.”

“Just…. Just one chance.” She gasped and he leaned to kiss her but she put a finger on his lips  “What do you want to do to me?”

“I want to fuck you. Slow. With the lights on.”

“Ja…. Jay….” She whimpered “I…. I don’t…..” who would have thought that tough and independent Cheshire would suddenly become so shy and embarrassed because of physical intimacy.

“Don’t worry, kitten. I will make you feel good, I promise. I will devour you….” he whispered and finally, finally their lips met when, surprisingly, she was the one who pulled him down to her by his neck. Oh, she still wanted control. Even when he grabbed her hips, lifting her up with no effort and wrapping her legs around his waist making her feel how hard he was for her. She was still fighting for dominance when he bit on her bottom lip and his tongue sneaked into her mouth making her moan so sweetly. She was still resistant when his hands moved under her shirt, up, up, to her breast, cupping and massaging it gently through the thin material making her whole body shiver.

“Jay….” She gasped when his mouth moved down her neck to the collarbone, at the same time pulling the shirt over her head.

“Fuck, I love you…..”  he bit on her pulse point, definitely leaving the hickey. He wanted to mark her whole. “I so fucking love you.” he pulled away only to take her in. Her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her wide, innocent eyes.

“I love you too Jace. But don’t stop.” she moaned

“I have no intention to do so, baby. I will take my time with you. We have so many years to make up for…..” he carried her towards the bedroom, throwing her onto the bed, losing his own shirt on the way and climbing up to hover above her body. All his scars were now visible and she gently, seductively, but also lovingly traced her fingers over them making him close his eyes. He was still insecure about how his body looked.

“My poor boy. My wonderful boy…..” she whispered “you’ve been through so much, haven’t you?” her hand travelled up to his cheek cupping it “Jace, look at me….”

“I hate them…..” he whispered

“Well I already love them. I love you. I don’t care about those scars. You are beautiful. So, so, beautiful. Each part of you….”

He could not hold it back any longer when he leaned in to kiss her with all passion he had. He wanted her closer, he wanted her to feel the love and longing and every emotion he had for her.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N. I’ll do everything, just tell me.” He kissed her neck again as she played with the hair at the nape of the neck.

“I…. Can we turn the light off?”

“Why?”

“Well, you are not the only one who’s insecure. And…. And I am not as experienced as you, so…..”

“Fuck. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes now. You are a goddess Y/n. I’m gonna show you” his hands moved down and behind her back unclasping her bra and as soon as her breasts were free he started kissing them with feather light kisses switching between left and right one. His tongue circling over her sensitive nipples as she was already falling apart. “Hmmm” he grinned moving down “we’ve only just began and you’re already  a mess. “

“Jay….. please, please…..”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll take you over the edge.“ she shivered and barely noticed when he moved down her pants and underwear pulling her legs apart. “so wet for me.”

“Come on!” she urged him, arching her back and moving her hips up to signalize him what she wanted.

“As you wish.” He dropped in between her thighs immediately hitting the perfect spot. She moaned and he grinned “there then?”

“Yes! Fuck! Yes, Jace, please, oh, please, please. I need you…..” she threw her head back and he sped up wanting her to cum, to feel all the pleasure.

“Tell me you’re mine, babygirl. Tell me who do you belong to?”

“You! You Jace! Please, fuck! I’m so close, so fucking close!”

In some other circumstances he would tease her more, but the way she squirmed and begged for release was too much. He just couldn’t keep edging his treasure. She deserved the best. A couple more licks and gentle circles on her clit and a few words “come for me babygirl�� and she was over the edge, her vision turning white, her whole world limited to him. Jason. Jace. Jay. Her Jay. It took her a few seconds to get back on earth and the first thing she saw was his smiling face.

“Was that good? Was I good?”

“Fuck, Jay. That was… that was… fuck. I don’t even want to know who taught you that, but you were just phenomenal…..” she gasped locking her hands on his neck making him lean his forehead on hers “I want more…..” she closed her eyes.

“Needy now, huh?”

“Can you blame me? I bet you got enough stamina to keep me satisfied.” She smirked

“’Is that a challenge?”

“Yes.”

“You know I never back down from such. You want me inside you, baby?” he started unzipping his pants and soon they were on the floor along with his boxers, his cock hard and swollen springing out.

“Oh fuck, you’re huge…. I don’t know if….”

“You can do it. I’ll go slow, all right? Just say a word and I stop. No need to rush.” He assured her, capably putting on condom.

“O…ok.”

“Good….” He lined himself against her entrance but once again she stopped him from taking any action.

“Jace…..” she whispered looking anywhere but on him finally making him grab her chin and force her eyes on him

“Second thoughts?”

“No. No, of course not. I…. I trust you.” he melted when she said that, his hands started to shake, heart swelling with love and affection. “I just…..”

“Tell me what you want, baby. What do you want to do? I’m listening.”

“I want on top.”

“Getting confident, now?” he grinned “Can’t lie, I like that.”

“I just…. I’m not sure if I know how to…..”

“You never….? Wait, weren’t there any men?” he muttered and regretted that a second later. If there were anyone else in her life, touching her and loving her he did not want to know.

“A few. But…. Most of the times, even after…. I just had to take care of myself……” she tried to look down but he didn’t let her, softly caressing her cheek.

“You poor thing. Neglected and kept unsatisfied by a bunch of losers.  We’ll make sure it will never happen again. You….” he whimpered “you trust me?”

“Yes.” No hesitation in her voice. Zero inhibitions.

“I’ll make it worth it.” He pulled her up, making her sit on his lap so he could prepare her for his huge cock, his fingers circling her clit at first and soon getting inside. One. Two. three fingers were moving inside her and she was moaning and saying his name like a prayer. “You think you’re ready?”

“I…. Yes. Just… help me with it….”

“Come here” this time it was his turn to groan and moan when he grabbed her hips and guided her onto his cock slowly moving her down. “Fuck! So good, so tight!” she whimpered when he bounced a bit due to his excitement “sorry, baby” a little kiss on the lips “you’re good?”

“I think so….” she smiled shyly and looking more beautiful than ever

“God, you’re so hot. So beautiful. Do you even know it?” he said absolutely hypnotized by her widened eyes, messy hair and lips swollen from the kisses.

“All red and sweaty and sticky?” she laughed “you can’t be serious, Jay….”

“Look at me, babe.” She slowly lifted head to meet his eyes “You. Are. Fucking beautiful. And I’m so lucky you let me make love to you…..”

“Oh, so now we are making love? I though you said something about wanting to fuck me….”

“Changed my mind. You deserve so much more than just fucking.” his grip on her hips tightened when he pulled her closer and she moaned “That’s it baby. Show me how good you feel.”

“Jay…. I want to….”

“Ride me?”

“Yes...." She threw her head back in ecstasy.

“Go on then. You’re in control. Use me. Take what you need.”

“I don’t know…..”

“Just do what you feel like. Don’t worry about me. It’s all about you now, ok?”

“Mhmmmmm…. Ok.” She started to move her hips, slowly, testing the waters. That was new, and she did not want to hurt him or embarrass herself by doing something stupid. However soon it started getting more and more natural and easier.

“You’re doing so good, baby, so good” Jason praised her, fighting the urge to guide her hips to move a bit faster. “you can pick the pace up, its…. Ah, fuck!”

“Enjoying yourself?” she smirked, much more confident now, as she observed his blissful face and his half closed eyes and some sort of pride crept on. She was doing it to him.

“Oh, you little tease.” He moved and she bounced on his cock, squealing when she lost balance and quickly grabbed his neck for support “you first.” He started moving his hips against her, and the heat started building inside her. “close?”

“Mhm. So close. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Together?”

“Always.”

“Come for me baby boy” she used the same  sentence as he did before and with one final snap of their hips, she was sent over the edge, feeling his cock twitch inside her.

“Fuck!” he panted, holding her closer not ready to pull out. “I should…..”

“No…. hold me like this. Just for a while…..” she sneaked her arms around him clutching to his chest and his heart nearly jumped out of his body “I missed you.”

“Well, who am I to deny you this little koala moment?”

“koala?” she chucked against his skin, her laugh so beautiful

“Sorry, I forgot. You’re a kitten.”

“Not just any kitten. Cheshire. I can play with your mind….”

“You don’t even have to try. You already made me crazy for you. " He kissed her temple lovingly. "Now, let me clean you up.” He pulled out, removed and threw away the condom and collected a cloth to clean her up from her own juices. “You have no idea how I missed you.”

“I’m hoping you suffered through the fact you knew I was alive. I was living in grief but in belief I would never get to see you or touch you or…. be more than friends. Cause you know, your death left us in a very ambiguous relation.”

Jason lied on his back, sighing deeply.

“Come here” he urged her and the girl put a head on his chest, tracing patterns on his abdomen, while he run a hand up and down her arm “now you got me back. And if you want to…..”

“Sh. Don’t.” she silenced him “We don’t need to have that conversation now. Let’s just live in the moment for a while. Blissful, peaceful moment before we put a tag on it. And before we figure out how to reconcile my work with your family and you solo Red Hood killing spree. Is that all right with you?"

“Perfectly.”

“Perfectly perfect than….” She muttered slowly drifting off. In his arms. Where she always belonged.

[internalsealpanic]

Better Die Than Doubt

Summary:  You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure.

A/n: To no one’s shock, this entire fic was unplanned. I was possessed by the urge to make it (translation: I got the urge to write this and one of my enablers said do it).  This story should be treated more or less as a horror story. Nothing is being glorified here except how dorky Jason is. That being said,  PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. This fic contains quite a few triggering things and I really don’t want you to be blindsided.  Also thanks to @knightfall05x for helping me write this whole thing. Thanks to @batarella (HOE) for action writing tips.

Warnings: graphic violence, stalking, emotional manipulation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, drugging, nongraphic description of rape, and rape aftermath 

masterlist

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. You could practically feel the oncoming headache the way you could sense someone coming down the hall. This is what happens when you’re running on just 5 hours of restless sleep for the last few days. This headache was also not helped by the fact that this was your fifth coffee in the past 30 minutes. You probably should not be drinking this much caffeine this late but intelligent decisions weren’t exactly your strong suit this week. You rub the sides of your forehead feeling another wave of nausea. 

 You check the time again and groan.  It’s been one-and-a-half hours since your agreed upon time had lapsed and yet one Jason Peter Todd was nowhere to be seen. You curse, nerves edging, and mind fraying.  To be perfectly fair to him, he is a busy guy, vigilante, and all. You understood that fairly well- and this was sudden to say the least. You can’t really fault him for being a bit late but the long wait was ratcheting up your anxiety. Again, the coffee didn’t help but considering it was the only thing you could keep down since last night, you didn’t have much choice. 

 Last night. 

 Your stomach tumbled. You cup your hand over your mouth feeling your coffee traveling back up your esophagus. You let out a long exasperated breath, letting yourself sink into the booth. You look out the window, eyes flickering wildly searching for Jason. Your hands tighten around your mug. The feeling of being watched made you bristle. 

 Jason, well, Jason wasn’t hard to spot. The man was 6 feet 4 inches of pure muscle and leather. Having a handsome face and a ‘fuck you’ look in his eyes also helped.  In short, the man was hard to ignore. You wave weakly to him as he dismounts his bike, a gesture far too small for your usual bombastic self. Jason’s smarmy smile greets you as he returns the gesture with his gloved hand. The motion is slow and cautious, rickety in a way. You wince knowing he’s already noticed. You feel the tiniest bit more at ease as he approaches your booth but it didn’t stop your eyes from flickering and searching for something off in the environment. The creeping sense of being watched trails up your spine. You’re sure. 

 “Jesus, y/n, you look like Timbo” Jason chuckles sliding into the booth his green eyes shining with scrutiny. You look at him flatly not having enough energy to properly respond to his jab. He winces seeing your lack of reaction. “Rough night, huh?” He asks flagging down a waitress, who looked quite pleased to get away from her previous table.  

 You nod weakly, slowly as if the fact that it had been a rough couple of days had just sunk in. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice small and a little threadbare. You drum your fingers against your increasingly cold mug. The waitress sets a couple of warm mugs in front of you. Her soft smile makes you uneasy. You and Jason mutter a thanks as she tells you to wave her over if you need anything else. Her warm brown eyes boring into the stark purple bruise on your face. You shrink and smile sheepishly at her.

 “I’m fi-”

 “I am going to throw these sugar packets at you if you say you’re fine.”

 “Damn, ok, Mr.Kettle,” You laugh. His concern startles a genuine laugh out of you. You’re sincerely surprised how lively the sound that comes out of you is. “You know if you keep sounding like that, Jay, you’re gonna wreck the whole stone-cold badass thing you got going,”

 “Y/n..”

 You huff running your hand through your disheveled hair, trying in vain, to soothe your mind. What was the best way to put it? You swallowed, gathering your lapsing thoughts. “Sooo uh-” The collar of your shirt suddenly felt tight around your neck. “-I-” You breathe. “-I found around 4 or 5 of Blackmask’s boys and Deathstroke-No, I’m not shitting you- in my- my apartment for- well- the third time in the last two months, can I crash at your place? Just ‘til I find a new place. Oh and also how do I get rid of them?”

  He blinks as his brain takes its sweet fucking time digesting what you had just said.  He leans back groaning and running his hands over his face. He looks like he’d like to deck you if he wasn’t too busy being concerned for your welfare. You shrink again, feeling bad for springing it on him. The decision to leave out the gory details of your hectic week suddenly felt like the wisest choice but you had no doubt he’ll get it out of you at some point. 

 “I’ll skip the obvious ‘why did you wait three times before moving’ question because I feel like I’m probably going to get an aneurysm from your answer,”  Your reasoning wasn’t quite that stupid. You were mucking about Sionis’s operation. The fucker decided to branch out his little enterprise into your city and like hell, you were gonna leave well enough alone. After you had set fire to one of his warehouses, you thought that would explain the False Facers. But Deathstroke? Deathstroke was a mystery. You’ve also been mucking about his business but you two have always been civil if not friendly. Frenemies of sorts, you guessed. You’ve been encountering him a lot in the last few days. You had figured that Blackmask had hired him but considering he threw two men out of your apartment window last night, you’re not entirely sure.  You make an affronted noise that Jason elects to ignore. 

 “What did they do?”

 “Aside from necessitating a visit to IKEA?  Nothing.”

 “Did they take anything? Leave a message?”

 “Nope, nothing-” You furrow your brow trying to recall. You shake your head. “-They just made sure I knew they broke in.” You add, shrugging your shoulder. You wince at the movement. Your shoulder still aches from being hit with a bat. Jason’s shoulders shift, moving as if to reach out to you but stops himself. Instead, he continues with his line of questioning. “Sweetheart, there’s gotta be something missing.” 

 You frown, biting your cheek. Jason rests his chin on his hand, green eyes watching you and urging you to think back. It was either the weight of his gaze or the lack of sleep that was making it hard to recall. You close your eyes and catalog your belongings, analyzing the mental picture you have like a crime scene like how he taught you months ago, breaking it down into the smallest pieces of information and bringing it back into a bigger picture.  Still, nothing. Nothing of note was missing. You shake your head and shrug your uninjured shoulder. Jason glares at the immobile one. You shake your head silently telling him it wasn’t from last night which just made him clench his jaw. 

 “Evidence?”

 You shake your head.  He frowns baffled. 

 “Tech?”

 You shake your head again. 

 “Anything personal?” He asks jokingly. 

 “I-” A cold horror washes over you trailed by embarrassment. Your vibrator had been missing and so were a couple of your lingerie sets. You feel your stomach drop to the floor. “Oh god, Jay- I- Please, let me stay with you.” 

 “And have them steal my stuff?” He chuckles. 

 “Please, Jay, like you have anything worth stealing.” Jason frowns at you scrutinizing your face. You level him a glare but it was more in an effort to fight down a blush than anything venomous. Jason’s jaw unclenches and his face breaks into a shit-eating grin. “What color was it?”

 “Wha-”

 “Bzzzzzzzt ” 

 If you weren’t blushing before, you are now. Heat climbs up your spine. Your mouth felt dry. 

 “Well, what color was it, sweetheart?” Jason drawls, his voice dropping an octave. You shiver but bristle just as quickly. You bite your cheek and glare at him. “HA. HA. HA. Funny, Todd.”

 “Was it Red Hood Red?” Jason teases, winking and raising his cup of coffee to his lips. 

 “Nightwing blue” You deadpan. Jason coughed into his drink.  You preen with satisfaction. 

 “Does it make stupid puns while you go at it? ”

 “Yup,” You say, the ‘p’ popping. “That’s part of the appeal.” You joke smiling into your mug.  Jason snorts. “How is that supposed to be sexy?”

 You shrug, a sharper less tired smile cutting across your features. “Dunno man. Nightwing is pretty sexy if you ask me.” You wink.  

 Jason makes a fake gagging noise. Well, it seems fake with how theatrical the gesture is but with bats? You never could tell. You roll your eyes and giggle.  Jason’s shoulders loosen at your bubble of laughter, his face slipping into one of his sheepish smiles. “In all seriousness, y/n, you can stay at my place.”

 You smile at him, your usual fluorescent smile. 

Click

 Click

 Click

 A man from across the street watches you intently through the lens of a camera. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Slade throws the photos across Roman’s desk, each glossy piece of paper containing a candid photo of you looking increasingly frayed and anxious.  

 Roman marvels at how your usually larger than life figure shrank into your puffy coat, how small and malleable and inexperienced you looked. He notes the panicked look in your eyes in every one of the photos and savors it. He couldn't wait to see it for himself. 

 In one photo, you're looking over your shoulder as you enter your office building. 

 In one, you’re tracing circles on a child’s hand with your thumb,  beaming brightly as you told some wild tale to distract the child. 

 In another, you're slumped in your desk chair as you think over a case looking absolutely exasperated but determined. 

 In yet another one, you're locking lips with a man, his hand trailing up your shirt. Roman made sure to give the man some swimming lessons a few weeks prior.  

 In the photo in Roman’s hand, you're at the emergency room looking like you haven't slept in 2 days. Your face was bruised and your clothes were torn in several places where Slade had managed to land a blow. Your delicate skin marred with cuts and trickling blood. Absolutely gorgeous.   

 He examines it closely. The photo was taken just a few hours ago. You look like you're going to cry but your shoulders and jaw are squared more frustrated than scared. There's a fire in your eyes that threatens to level the city. A thrill rides up his spine at the prospect of extinguishing it. 

 “This is why you wanted to throw my men out the window?”

 Slade hums. He shrugs and the edge of his lips curl into a smile. “It was the only way to convince the kid that we’re both after her-” His eye drifts to your face. Appraising but impassive. “The kid’s scared out of her mind and exhausted at this point.”

 Slade had a point. Roman had to give him that. It wouldn’t be obvious to the casual observer but it would be plain as day to anyone like Roman who had been studying you for a while. You weren’t quite as meticulous with your appearance as Roman thought you should be (He would work on that later) but the dishevelment in your appearance was obvious. The slight dip in your shoulders in place of the prim posture that you usually employed was a blatant indication of your weariness. And the falter in your smile, the flickering in your eyes, and the number of times you let yourself bite your cheek showed the cracks in your fearless image. 

 Who knew weeks upon weeks of chaos could weather Minos City’s own budding hero? 

 In the photo next to Roman’s hand, your laughing face is stark and lively against the drab atmosphere of the diner, bubbling laughter carving life into your exhausted features making you look more like the shining paragon your city has come to rely on. The man sitting in front of you is laughing too. The sharp edges of his grin softened by the fondness in his eyes. It was hard not to recognize him even with such a foreign expression plastered onto his face.  Roman crushes the photo in his hand. 

 “BUT NOW SHE’S WITH THAT SCUMBAG RED HOOD”

 “And she’s now with the Red Hood. In his secluded safe house. Weakened and far from help. Most likely thinking that she’s safe under his protection and blissfully unaware of the tracker I put in her arm.”

 “I see… It seems like you are worth the pay.”

 Slade made no effort in hiding his smug grin.  

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 “Jay, I really am sorry about this.” You mumble for what seemed like the fifth time in the past half hour. 

 “I sincerely hope you’re apologizing for the fact that you neglected to tell me you had bruised ribs before getting on my bike and not the fact that you’re staying with me because two crazy assholes decided your place needed remodeling.” Jason exasperates, pinching the bridge of his nose. You feel kind of annoyed by the gesture but he did have a point especially with your city’s less than smooth roads. You were also pretty banged up. As it turns out, facing off against a bunch of goons plus a master assassin is not good for your health. You swore viciously under your breath. Now, you weren’t expecting Deathstroke to go easy on you despite your rapport but the guy really didn’t have to throw you around like a rag doll. Even with your power to adjust the odds, it was a miracle that you escaped intact. 

 “Well, Mr.Pot, you ride your bike all the time even with broken ribs.” You bite back. Jason rolls his eyes unaffected by the distilled venom in your voice.

  “Well, one of us is a stone-cold badass- ”

 “And the other is a sasquatch with a stick up his ass.” You sneer snatching the beer bottle from Jason. Your tone was far too fond and playful to have any actual bite. Jason chuckles at you and ruffles your hair before snatching it back and handing you a bottle of water.

 You huff taking the bottle from him and following him to the couch. He sits down on the couch patting the seat beside him. You plopped on to the couch, placing your sock feet on his lap. He grabs your ankles and throws your feet back at you. You just as quickly throw them back on and this time you do it with an absolutely delighted smirk on your face. “Rude,” He mumbles but doesn’t attempt to extricate you again. 

 “So Deathstroke, huh?” Jason starts, side-eyeing you over his beer. You adjust yourself to sit up a little straighter.

 “You mean the asshat who broke my favorite lamp last night?”

 “Who the hell has a favorite lamp?”

 “Me! And get to your point.”

 “Have you two- yanno?” Jason jokes, his eyebrows wiggling and hands gesturing vaguely. Your eyes grow wide and heat creeps up your neck and face. You scowl at Jason throwing a pillow at his face for good measure. He catches it with ease much to your frustration giving you his trademark triumphant grin. You kick at him with no real force. 

 “NO! What kind of soap opera shit is that?” You giggle into your drink. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. The guy was skilled and pretty witty.  You also had eyes and the man was handsome but something always felt strange about taking it further. You were civil but you kept your distance. 

 You pout at Jason again causing him to chuckle. “What? I’m just saying it’ll air out some tension~” He suggests winking. 

 “Oh my actual god, I hate you. I sincerely, truly hate you.” You laugh, kicking at his thigh. Jason makes an obviously fake hurt noise which draws out even more giggles out of you. Some tension in Jason’s shoulders releasing upon hearing the bubbly sounds. 

 “You speaking from experience, Jay?”

 Jason shakes his head and coughs. “Catwoman-” Cough. “Talia Al Ghul-” Cough. “Sorry, sweetheart, seems like I have a really bad cough this week.”  

 And that is how you spend the rest of the night questioning Bruce’s love life. 

“Food is in the fridge,” Jason says pointing to the said fridge which was sorely lacking magnets, sounding like a somewhat tired single parent. 

 “Do I look like I can keep anything down?”

 Jason snatches the water bottle you had abandoned on the side table next to the recliner. “With that big mouth of yours? Sure.” Jason teases lightly booping you on the nose with your water bottle. “Get some rest.”

 “Yes, mother” You sighed, burying yourself into the thick comforter he’d given you, crumpled water bottle in hand. He ruffles your hair. 

 “You know you’re safe here, right? ” The question startles you. You shift uncomfortably, pulling the comforter tightly around your shoulders. You shrug at him, not entirely certain how to answer. You know Jason’s safe house is, well, safe but you also thought your apartment was too. Your stomach twisted. 

 Jason squeezed your shoulder probably sensing the spiral of your thoughts. He smiles down at you, probably. It was hard to tell with the helmet.  

 “If you want, I can-”

 “No, Jay, I’ll be fine here. You can go on patrol. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

 The thing with Jason was that even when he was so big and bulky and hella intimidating, his empathy towards others had a bad habit of always shining through despite the layers of armor and sarcasm. You squeeze his hand, pressing little circles into his palm, and smile up at him. It was forced but it was the best you could do. Jason ruffles your hair again before letting go and making his way to the window. 

 “Get some sleep.”

 “Aye aye cap’n” You yawn settling into a slump on the couch. Jason can’t help but smile fondly at you.  You wave him a sleepy goodby before he sets off. 

You passed out on the couch, an old habit you never grew out of. You always slept on the couch when you felt uneasy. It may have been some sort of way to separate stress from your bedroom. It sure as shit wasn’t for safety reasons. Your equipment was dispersed throughout your apartment but your weapons were usually stowed away in your room. 

 You feel a hand running gently through your hair, smoothing away all your apprehension. 

 “Jay” You grouse, your hand halfheartedly swatting at the hand stroking your hair. You bury yourself further into the warmth of the comforter feeling the need to shrink away from the touch. You feel a soft prick on your neck.  

 Your eyes fly open.  

 Shit.

 The hand tangles in your hair. It throws you to the wall. The air is knocked out of your lungs. Your ribs scream. You scrabble to your feet. Your limbs fail you. They flail uselessly. Your breaths pick up. Your chest feels like it's caving. 

 "JAY" You shriek. “HELP.” A large hand grasps your throat. A rush of adrenaline kicks in. You thrash. You kick. Your hit lands. Another grasps your ankles. You scream. You swear viciously. Another grabs at your wrists. Something rough winds around your wrists and ankles. 

 The world tilts into an odd angle. Your head feels heavy so do your arms and your legs and everything. 

 "Jaaay" You slur, the air in your lungs becoming sluggish like everything else. "Jay" you sob again, knowing he wouldn't come. Not when he was so far away. 

 "Shut up you …..  bitch" You feel a swift kick to your stomach. It barely registers above the haze. 

 "Hey man-"

 "What? The …. man said we …… rough her up."

 "We can?"

 "Yeah, ……, said so"

 Your eyes blink, stupid, and uncomprehending.  Distantly, you hear yourself grunting and whimpering. You can feel their blows but your body is too far away, too inaccessible. It was strange to physically feel yourself drift away. 

.

.

.

 Roman traces the sun shaped scar radiating on your shoulder with a leather-clad hand. The one shot he’d managed to land on you the first time you’d stormed one of his warehouses. You were all cocksure and quick wit and boisterous laughter. You really had the devil’s own luck but it seems to have run out. Not that Roman’s got any complaints. Not when he’s got you laying at his feet,  tied up and vulnerable. 

 He crouches down, hand on his chin.  His eyes roam appreciatively over your sleeping form, appraising you like a premium cut of meat. You look pretty against the black silk sheets he’d chosen.  He sighs content with his prize. He traces the tip of his knife over your cheek, a dark purple bruise maring your features stark against the stainless surface of the blade. Slade really was quite careless when handling you. Not that Roman has any plans on being any gentler.  

 He lets his blade drift down, trailing down your neck down to the flimsy protection of your oversized shirt.  Your steady breaths falter. You keep your eyes shut trying to gather more information but it’s hard not to focus off the tip of the blade cold against your warm skin even as the blade cuts through the thin fabric of your shirt. A large hand grasps your face roughly. 

 “I know you're awake, baby-” You blanch still not opening your eyes. The grip on your jaw tightens. You grin like a madman. “It's rude to keep daddy waiting.” 

 “Sorry, Sionis, I was really hoping not to have to wake up  you’re ugly mug.” You sneer, voice thick and raspy with sleep but still full with your trademark confidence. Roman looks more amused than irritated.  Your body and mind are still at the cusp of sleep. You wriggle and almost cry out with joy when you feel them move. You mind the hand on your jaw and its tight grip. 

 “Baby, I won’t tell you a-” You spit in his face, cracking an eye open to see his reaction. A bloody grin spreads across your face like wildfire when you see the annoyance on his face. 

 “You’re going to regret that” He growls, wiping his face with a torn piece of your shirt. 

 “Oh please-” Something cracks across your jaw. 

 “The next time it’ll be the other end,” It takes a moment for your mind to catch on. You stare at the hilt of the blade for a moment before letting loose another smarmy grin. His violent reaction spurs you on. Yeah, you can definitely see why Jason thinks you’re going to age him twenty years. “Oh please, You like my face too much for that.”

 “You really wanna test that?”

 “Nope,” You say, spitting into his eye and landing a punch square in his face. You cackle like a madwoman when he goes down. You don’t bother hiding the delighted chirps that escape your chest. 

 Being petty, you give him a swift kick to the face before dashing towards the door.  You launch yourself, feeling like you can fly. The copper taste in your tongue almost feels sweet. 

 Your hand grasps the door when a hand tangles itself in your hair. 

 Roman throws you back onto the mattress, the springs digging into your back. You scratch and claw and thrash against the large hand wrapped around your throat. You snarl as Roman leans closer, his body pinning yours against the mattress, his weight immobilizing your fatigued limbs. A sweet-smelling cloth covers your mouth and nose, you gasp in surprise, inhaling the scent. Your mind is already sluggish by the time it catches on. 

 Your vision dims. 

 You feel hollowed out. 

 Your limbs fall away, arms drooping and pliant against the silk-covered mattress. The cloth feels too much against your skin. Vaguely, you feel horror prickling up your spine or maybe it was just the springs again. 

 Roman pulls away. You think you breathe a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of him lifted. He straddles your body, grinning down at you. Your mouth falls open to say something. You want to say that you curse him out or that you threaten him. The sound you make is small. Your tongue feels too heavy.  No, something is pressing it down, you think. 

 Above you, Roman is a towering colossus. You’re vaguely aware of the shifting of his hips. He removes his gloved hand from your mouth and caresses the side of your face with mock gentleness. His movements are sluggish and syrupy.  You make another noise when you realize to some degree of horror that isn’t. Your mind felt heavy and useless. 

 He snaps his fingers. The sound is dull like it's contending with water. A muffled set of steps approaches you. A man, you realize. You don't think you’ve noticed him before. His dark shape is messy and incomprehensible. A red dot flashes stark against his form. The mechanical sounds of a shutter drift in and out of your mind. You turn your head back to Roman at the sound of shifting fabric.

 Above you, Roman, already without his suit jacket, loosens his tie, eyes staring hungrily at you. The pit of your stomach feels painfully cold. You blink at him stupidly. He chuckles, grasping your chin to make sure you’re looking at him. You protest against his touch.

 “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be the star of our little show like the filthy attention whore you really are. ” He laughs. It rumbles like thunder in your ears. 

 The world falls away. 

Click

Click

Click

.

.

.

.

.

One 

 Two

 .

.

.

.

One

 You feel a prick on your neck. 

 Hot breaths fan against your face. 

 Your body is too warm. 

 You don’t want to know why. 

 Twenty-five, you continue counting. 

 You feel fabric shift against you. 

 Something sharp digs itself into your flesh.  

 One 

 Two

 Three

 .

.

.

 Three?

 Something’s crushing your windpipe.

 Your body is aching. You’re not entirely sure whether it’s from use or disuse and by who. 

 “Good girl”

 Thirty

 .

.

.

 Twelve

 There’s something scraping against your flesh. 

 Is it a knife?

 Hot pants fan against your skin. 

 Teeth 

 Four

.

.

.

.

Fifty-six

 “Boss, I-.... going a …. bit too far?”

 Smack!

 “Do …. You…. to think?” 

 Two sixty-eight

 A hand strikes you. You think your jaw is broken. It hurts but then again everything hurts. All you can do is take it and whimper. 

 Tears sting against your face.  

  “That’s right. Just like that. Like that, you little whore.” 

 Your body is warm again. 

 You still don’t want to know. 

.

.

.

.

Two

 Two

 Two?

 You’ve counted two before. 

 You blink. 

 The haze of your mind lifts. 

 The coldness of the room seeps in your bones. You’re bare. You take stock of yourself, running your hands over your skin. Everything is still there. 

 Everything and a few other things. You let disgust and shame roll over you. A sob tears its way out of your chest. Your breath picks up. You feel your mind slipping. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, calling your mind back and steadying yourself. 

 You take stock again. This time moving your limbs and jangling your joints.  They were weak but workable. You’re surprised to find yourself unbound aside from the collar around your neck. You suppose Roman’s confident in his drugs. How long have you been here? You press lightly against your neck, feeling the higher than normal pulsing of your artery. You shift yourself waking your legs up. 

 You stiffen, gooseflesh spreading over your skin as light filters into the room through the door. Your eyes snap shut, stinging from the sudden intrusion of light. The pulse beneath your fingers jackrabbits. You think you’ll keel over. 

 “Shhhhhh”

 All the strength in your veins floods out, leaving a feeling of cold horror in its place. You scream or you try.  Your body feels impossibly rigid. Roman stalks towards you, his footfalls slow and deliberate and too loud. Your heart jumps up to your throat with each step. You inch yourself away from him, drawing yourself up to make yourself feel bigger. He coos at how adorable you are, trying to look defiant. The mattress dips under his weight. Your mind begins to slip away from you again. The world falls away from you. You anchor it, digging your nails into your palms. He cups your face, thumb caressing your bottom lip. You glower at him and bite out something witty. He laughs amusement lighting up his features, the sound grates against your ears. 

 “Not gonna fight back?” He taunts, pressing his thumb down on your bottom lip. Your body recoils but then goes slack as he runs his hand up and down your side. Shame blankets you but the fear etched into you keeps you still. 

 Roman loosens his tie. 

 Your mind falls out of your reach. 

 “Such a good little slut.” He murmurs against your lips.

 NO

 You wanted to say. 

 Instead, your mind starts counting again even as you hear the rustle of fabric. 

 .

.

.

. 

 BANG

 A gunshot rings through the thick atmosphere of the room. 

 Roman curses. 

 His men stampede. 

 Another round of shots fire. 

 Something- No, no.  Someone tears Roman off of you. 

 “Deathstroke?” You croak, your voice sounding foreign and absurdly brittle. 

 “Do you know anyone else walking around looking like this, kid?”

 “Ravager” You snark, lips twitching into a smile. He rolls his eyes underneath his mask. The familiarity of the exchange breathes life into your body. Roman’s hand grips your wrist with bruising intensity. Your breath catches. 

 No. No. No.

 The word loops in your head like a constant rat-tat. 

 Slade’s foot makes contact with Roman’s head, the force of it unnecessary but satisfactory. The sounds of bone-cracking fill the air. The man falls uselessly to the grimey floor. He shoots him with a couple of rounds for good measure, each shot instilling a pang of finality in the back of your mind. 

 You scrabble towards Slade, wide-eyed and shallow breathed.  You cling to Slade as he bundles your body in silken sheets.  He hoists you easily into his arms. You bury your face into the junction between his neck and shoulder, closing your eyes, the image of Roman’s bloody body on the floor pressed into your mind. You sob in relief. Your hands clasping onto Slade, white-knuckled and shaking.

  "I've got you, sweetheart," He rumbles, running his hand through your hair soothingly. The tight knots in your body, loosen. You whimper a quiet thank you. “I’ve got you.”

 You lift your head only to see Roman twitch. 

 Your breathing falters. 

 Fear pricks your spine. 

 Your mind falls away from you again. 

 Distantly, you feel Slade’s grip on you tightens. 

 Distantly, you hear him murmur something. 

 Everything is too far away. 

 Your eyes blink sluggishly. The world becomes dimmer with each blink. 

 .

.

.

.

 A warm spray of water drizzles down over your aching skin. Your open wounds sting but the warm water pooling around you soothes the aches of your bruised flesh. Your eyes focus on the soft off-white of the tile on the wall opposite you. You don’t let yourself about the thin, rusty red film swirling in the water. The air in the room is thick with steam and the scent of lavender. 

 The absence of grime on your skin makes you feel lighter and gauzy and immaterial. You felt naked and obscene like you had been taken apart and now someone was examining pieces of you. You almost miss it. 

 “Lean back” Slade grumbles as he lathers your hair with some lavender concoction the hotel provided. Your body follows automatically, eagerly, obediently. You tell yourself you’re just tired. You tell yourself nothing’s wrong with your response. You tell yourself you’re ok. You wince. The warm water around you shifts. You hear it splash against the tile. You flinch at how loud it sounds. You take a deep breath and lean into his touch. He’s handling you delicately as though you would fall apart any second. You might. 

 Blinking away tears, you watch his face, aware that by leaning back, you’d be giving him a good view of the hickies, bite marks, and knife wounds Roman ‘gifted’ you. There’s a slight twitch in the corners of his lips. He must be disgusted with you too. You want to sink into the hot water and let it burn you anew, but you don’t trust yourself not to drown.   

 You close your eyes as another spray of warm water pours over you. You melt into it hoping it’s enough to wash the last few days- weeks?- away. 

.

.

. 

 Your hands grasp his face, pulling him towards you. His hands brace against the tub, keeping him from falling in with you. Your arms loop around his neck, your hot breath fanning against his lips. You press your lips against him, searching and wanting. For what exactly? Comfort? Safety? Stimulation? His lips press lightly against yours, not quite a kiss. Slade actually looks taken aback. 

 The rest of the world floods back in. You peel away, your eyes wide with terror. “Shit- I’m- Fuck! Fuck! Shit, Slade, I- I’m sorry. I- Shit! I didn’t-” Your breathing ratchets up, becoming shallower as the pulsating in your ears grow louder. There’s a tightness growing in your chest that makes you think your ribcage is about to implode. You cover your face with your hands not caring how it didn’t help your shallowing breaths. You can’t look at him. You just can’t. You know you’re disgusting. 

 Your body wants to come apart, dissolve, and if it can, evaporate. You can’t breathe. You curl into yourself, into the water. A hand grabs at your wrist. You flinch. The hand carefully pries your hand away, forcing you to uncurl. Slade’s other hand cups your face gently, guiding you to look him in the eye. The lack of disgust in his face rattles you.

 His thumb brushes against your lips making your stomach twist and your spine curl. He dips his head closer to yours. You kiss him eagerly. He lets out a pleased hum and smiles against your lips. Something cold licks at the bottom of your stomach but it’s overtaken by the need for connection, to fill in what had been hollowed out.   

You press closer to him than strictly necessary as you watch the news, chewing on your cheek.  He pulls you close, shifting you on to his lap. You don’t protest, eyes glued to the TV. 

 “Businessman, Roman Sionis, was found with several gunshot wounds to the stomach in one of his warehouses here in Minos City. He is now in stable condition. Authorities say...”

 Your jaw falls slack in mute horror. Your stomach tumbles to the floor.  You’re hyperventilating. Your teeth are digging into your cheek, you taste copper. Your mind spirals back into the room, back to the dirty mattress, back to Roman. 

 Strong arms wrap around you, stilling your trembling body against a broad chest. Your body relaxes a fraction. You curl into him, the buzz of nervous energy settling into a quieter panic. 

 “You’re safe with me, you know that don’t you, sweetheart?” Slade says tracing circles into your palm. You lean your head into his shoulder. You nod easing against him. “I’ll never let that monster anywhere near you.” He promises, pressing a kiss into your hair. A little sob wrenches free of your imploding chest. 

 Slade keeps his face buried in your hair even as you fall into a lull. It was the only way to hide the triumphant grin spreading across his face. 

 “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take good care of you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n: Thanks for reading. There’s a follow up to this because I can’t cope with bad endings. I had to promise myself a good second part to make the ending horrifying. 

The writing process for this fic was basically:

Me: I have this horrifying idea!

My brain: Yes but what if we put a little dork Jason in it. 

Me: I guess that wouldn’t hurt. 

Me: Ok I have written nearly 2k of dorky Jason where’s the other parts?

Brain: Uh what other parts?

Me: *sighs and spends the next few days spamming @knightfall05x*

taglist: 

@batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

[socontagiousimagines]

Stuck With You - Draco x Reader (1)

hi guys! this was based on @acciodracoo​ ‘s ask post .... I felt a lil spark of inspiration when I read it and asked her if it was okay if I wrote a lil something and she yessss soooo here we are!! 

I am posting this first part to see if there’s even any interest in something like this before I finish the whole thing... so please drop a comment and let me know what y’all think so far!!

ALSO A NOTE:

this is a modern AU… and in my mind (and a perfect world) is part of a much much larger series where the reader and Draco are frenemies and live together… but their parents are really close and decided that it would be a good idea and refused to pay for their own individual places unless they moved in together… specifically because they just want them to be at least friends, but also more… kind of like a timeout situation, if you will… hahaha anyways yeah idk if that made any sense but ((:

song recs for the entire fic (I stole this lil section from @drawlfoy​ bc I love it) - stuck with you - ariana grande & justin bieber, dazed & confued - ruel, put a little love on me - niall horan

Warnings - language, alcohol ... that should be it.....for now ;)

“And in other news, the Prime Minister has issued a lockdown until the sixth of April due to the coronavirus. This means no one will be allowed to leave their houses unless it is essential -- such as groceries or medical emergencies. Reports say that they will re-evaluate when the two weeks are up. Charlie, would you mind telling us the weather --”

“What?” Draco growled. He was sitting on the couch across from his roommate, Y/N. 

“Are you deaf? They said we’re in lockdown. We can’t go anywhere. Honestly Draco, you should’ve been expecting it. Our school already moved to online classes.” she replied, kicking her feet up on the coffee table and popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

“I’m not staying here. I cannot stay here with you for two whole weeks. I’d go mad. I’m calling my mother.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as Draco stalked off to his room. They both knew his parents would never allow him to come home, not when they were so hellbent on the two young adults learning to get along. His door slammed. Picking the remote up off the couch, she switched the TV to Netflix. She picked a random tv series and switched the remote for her phone. 

A few minutes later, the platinum blonde sulked out of his room. He made his way into the kitchen and reached for the tequila on the top shelf of the pantry. Y/N looked up from her phone and watched as his muscles flexed opening the bottle. She bit her lip.

“You know, if you’re making drinks, can you make me one too?” she asked.

“I’m not making drinks, I’m pouring shots… or maybe I’ll just drink straight from the bottle, but sure, Your Royal Highness, what do you want?” he grumbled. 

“Draco Malfoy, do not drink out of that bottle. That’s disgusting.”

“Try and stop me.” 

The blonde raised an eyebrow and slowly tipped the tequila bottle to his mouth. Y/N shot from her spot, climbing over the couch and sprinting into the kitchen. She grabbed the bottle just as it was about to touch his lips. Her hip bumped into him, pushing him away. 

“Great, now that you got off your ass, you can make your own drink. Make mine too.” he said, taking a few steps back and leaning against the wall behind them. 

He crossed his arms and watched as the girl in front of him scoffed and grabbed a glass from the top shelf of a cabinet. His eyes trailed down as her top rose up a bit. Biting his lip, he shook his head and looked out the window. 

Dark clouds were rolling in, threatening to put a damper on Draco’s already sour mood. Y/N grabbed a soda from the fridge and filled her cup with ice. His eyes drifted back to her. She didn’t seem to be taking his order of making his drink as well, for she had put both the tequila and coconut rum she had grabbed back into the pantry. She locked eyes with him, smirked, grabbed her drink, and walked away.

“Hey! Drink?” he asked.

“You have two arms and a brain, Draco, make it yourself.” She winked before heading into her room and closing the door. He shook his head before opening the pantry door and grabbing the tequila he had previously possessed. 

A/N: again, this is just the first (very small) part to a much longer piece, so please let me know what y’all thought and if you’d be interested in something like this!! I do appreciate every single comment I receive!!! love y’all!!! 

[itsunclebucky]

Unrequited Part II

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A-N: This is part 2 of unrequited for the @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ from the prompt “I’m sorry, but no.” (part one)

Words: 945

Warnings: Frenemies to lovers, starts with angst but happy ending! Smutty Part III anyone??

The walk around the city helped you in some ways. But in other ways, it made you realise not only did Bucky not want anything to do with you, but you had annoyed him, which was the bitter pill to swallow.

You let yourself down, let yourself become attached to a person you knew was too good for you, and now you had to deal with the heartbreak.

But you were determined to move on, forget about the soldier, join some dating sites. There's gotta be more than just Bucky out there for you, right?

Wrong.

You sat on a bench, overlooking a lake with ducks and swans swimming back and forth. Tears fell freely down your face and you sobbed, trying to piece it together.

Why didn't he want you? Were you seriously that annoying? Too persistent?

The unanswered questions didn't seem to matter at the moment. The only thing you could think of, was Bucky didn't want you.

☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆

“Where did she go?!” Steve asked Bucky, as he paced around the common room with his hands on his hips and looking up at the ceiling as though he would find his answers up there somewhere. 

"I don't know, Steve! She just left!" Bucky groaned into his hands, then ran his fingers through his locks.

"So what happened?"

"She asked me out again and I said no, again." Bucky answered honestly with a defeated sigh.

"Why don't you just try it?" Steve asked, sitting next to Bucky.

"Because I'm too old for her! It'll be weird, I'll be like her father."

"How many women have you dated from the nursing homes? Man, grow up. Maybe she has a daddy kink, there’s nothing wrong with dating younger people." Sam cackled from the other side of the room. Bucky rolled his eyes at his comment and ignored it.

"Maybe she wants a man. Not a little boy to date, Buck. Maybe she likes older guys. And you're not that much older than her." Steve pushed.

"Nah man. Bucky ain't no boy. He's a man baby. Sexual frustration does that to a person." Sam laughed, slapping Bucky harshly on his back.

"Fuck you Wilson." Bucky barked.

"Go and have a good fuck with Y/N. God knows you need it."

"Go and suck some di-"

"Alright you two, that's enough! Buck, you need to get yourself together and fix this." Steve patted him on the shoulder and stood to leave.

Bucky groaned, hating it when Steve was right.

☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆•☆•☆ ☆•☆

You made it back to the compound and decided to turn in for the night. After your breakdown in the park, you decided that a friendship with Bucky was better than nothing. And you would try your best to move on from him. 

Luck wouldn’t be on your side. As you stepped into the common room, Bucky was shirtless making a sandwich and some hot tea. Your footsteps alerted him of your presence and he looked up with a small smile.

“Y/N! Hi! I made you something to eat.” He said, cutting the sandwich in half. 

“Oh-” friends, Y/N! “Thank you.” You half smiled back and accepted it. 

“I was hoping we could talk?” You nodded and walked to the couches. Bucky shifted in his seat a couple of times and you watched his Adam’s apple bob a few times. “So, here’s the thing. I really do like you and it killed me every time I had to turn you down. You’re sweet, very kind, lovely, young. Doll, I’m so old that I’m just scared it’s going to be weird. If we’re out in public, people are gonna assume I’m your dad and...” He shudders, you set your sandwich down on the plate, putting it on the table in front of you and turning your body to look at him. 

“If there was a chance we could love each other, take care of each other, respect each other. Age difference doesn’t matter, it’s just a number. And you’re not that much older than me and for what people outside will think? I couldn’t care less what they say. But you’ve also gone far ahead, Buck. I just invited you out to spend time one on one with you. I knew you didn’t want a relationship with me and I-”

“I do want one, doll. I’m sorry for interrupting you but you gotta understand something, one date with you and I know I’ll be thinking of the time I’ll eventually propose. One date with you will tell me everything I already know, that I am in love with you and the many nights I went to bed alone hearing you cry, it made me cry too. But I understand if you don’t want me.” 

“Let’s go out this Friday night and if you still feel this way then I’d love it. Because I do want you, I’ve always wanted you.”

“I can’t guarantee two things.” Bucky shook his head and chuckled. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“First of all, doll. I’ve been craving you for so long that I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to keep my hands off you, and I can’t guarantee you’ll be going to bed alone after our date.” He smirked and you chuckled, understanding what he meant. 

“Okay. I’ll be sure to forget to put any panties on then. Thanks for the sandwich Buck.” You winked as you stood up, picking the sandwich up and started to walk away when you heard Bucky whining behind you.

“Dollllll. Did you just make me hard on purpose? Fuck I gotta go train in a few minutes!” 

“Not my problem, soldier.” You laughed

“DOLL!” 

Tags: @criminal-cookies​ @jobean12-blog​ @marvelgirl7​

[trixcuomo]

Love Games

Up next on Desperate Alts’ Lives... Horde B celebrity Trixany Cuomo has finally pulled the lever to A-status, and now it’s like she’s fallen down into a black rabbit hole of gossip and dangerous glam, chasing her dreams. Is this it? Has Trix finally gone too far? One of her friends must be able to save her, but which are the right friends? Haris Pilton? Sig Nicious? Her Night Elf buddy Sharpen? Hopeless causes tend to want dark angels...

Jet black. Haris Pilton thought her once rival in all things, business, modeling, performing, climbing the Silvermoon City social ladder—Trixany Cuomo, soon to be Mrs. Sig Nicious—that Trixany would go with red for her own gossip closet. A cheery, and also dangerous color. But when they were done looking through Haris’s swatches months ago, under their new starlette truce of course, Trixany wanted her gossip closet in complete, knockout black.

Today, Trixany’s hand was on the lever, she just hadn’t pulled it yet this morning. First, she needed to gather all her targets. Haris’ pink knob was honestly so… odd. But Trixany chose a literal disco stick that reminded her of one of her favorite performers of all time. The part at the top was a classic disco ball with large tiles of glossy silver. The effect was going to take over the whole room whenever she was ready to ‘pull the lever!’ The first time she’d done it at Haris’ place was so fun, it was addicting. Yes, so wonderfully addicting.

Trixany crossed legs in her matching leather catsuit. The worker Gnomes with jumpsuits also piped in silver along the smart curves of their bodies? Still asleep. Trixany liked to get up before even they did.

She sat alone inside of the shell at the center of the room. Well, it was raised up for now, or else she wouldn’t be able to see or hear anything. The noise-cancelling, black ASMR shell-that-was-totally-not-like-any-other-famous-villain’s-personal-sanctuary-globe-thing-for-legal-reasons had its uses, just not right now. STNLAOFVPSGTLR or Stan’s Laff Vapors Get’er was a fascinating piece of technology engineered for relaxing starlettes exclusively. So it was perfect for a certain Horde B celebrity. Gotta love quirky Gnomish technology. The laugh vapors weren’t working so at the moment. They were also supposed to help her forget her stressors. Running low… White steam raised from the top of the shell and escaped through the gear-like teeth around the edges, wafting to the ceiling.

Gnomish technology to make you think, ten times, twenty times faster. Consider your options and get maybe twelve moves ahead of your opponent before they’re even out of bed, or grabbed their champagne brunch around 2 pm server… It was like farming for rares, from home, fast, and on felweed! But it was your frenemies you were felling.

Anyway…

The black control screens all around flickered with silent pictures of Trixany wannabes with their rip-off looks or performances, rival divas secretly being watched while they slept—and before you judge, Trixany felt justified; some of them were up in their own gossip closet war rooms, scheming against her even at this hour—and if you’re a true Team Trixany fan, then you also know about the runway fashion show footage Trixany had been streaming all week. All were designs from the newly launched, joint Haris-Trix fashion line. Haris had backed it financially, Trixany had endorsed it, done the leg work promoting and wearing some of the showstoppers. They had been raking in the gold over it until recently. Both their fandoms, for once, were united on the fashion line. Well, not all of the screens were filled with saucy models on catwalks. Trixany was also observing how each new outfit was being received in the market as it was launched, while simultaneously keeping an eye—with her special lace-lensed fashion goggles—for any rip-offs. New clothing that ripped off her rip-offs, if Trixany was every forced to be very honest about how she and Haris got all the designs—but that intel would only get forced out, by Goblin lawyers tougher than her own, in some inter-factional Azeroth court of law. Technically, they weren’t stealing other people’s ideas unless they got caught…

“I can’t stand this…”

Trixanys thoughts were moving more rapidly than she could speak them or even keep track of on her own. Inside the white-hot shell, little electronic flickerings along a web of wires and lights carried them away instantly, recorded them. The rest of the room was dark, so dark… But inside, Trixany was alone with her thoughts. Just merely thinking that she might sue someone for stealing her brand was stored in a databank the moment it occurred to her. A list of commands that would be sent to the ends of Azeroth to the Goblin lawyers, Horde or Alliance pop icons. (Don’t let them tell you Thrall doesn’t consider himself a Horde A celebrity… his gossip closet was rumored to be done over in the hides of his slain enemies, where no one could see of course.) And of course there were a clutch of thugs ready to ‘handle’ anyone normal out there without real connections. Quick, dirty, cheap.

That was the last bit of advice Trixany grudgingly took from Haris Pilton before she mastered the art of ‘gossip watching’ for herself. Before the student became the master. Now, on Screen Five, Trixany observed Haris in her bubblegum pink dressing robes having tea with her breakfast. Actually Haris had been doing that, and elegantly, for a while. A stray thought wondered if Haris had somehow found out about Trixany’s global network of hidden scrying orbs and had set up video loop clips at certain parts of the day when she didn’t want to be observed. And they were supposed to be the best of business partners…

A new, bright white bead of light raced around inside the shell and disappeared behind Trixany’s black chair. Screen Ninety-Eight suddenly flickered on and pulled up a list. White text against a lovely, rich dark screen. The words ‘Check up on Haris, the brat…’ already printing on a new line.

On mornings like this one, Trixany felt more Gnomish tech than woman. Sunlight… what a nice memory. Though they said something odd with the Scourge was going on outside these days. Maybe that was the real reason profits from their fashion line were slowing down? Who knew?

Trixany was a Blood Knight, had the skills of any paladin, she should have a lot of work to do with the Knights of the Blood Nexus, shouldn’t she? Shouldn’t Lady Liadrin call on her then? And beyond that, when was the last time she’d gone for a stroll—well, without Silvermoon paparazzi around her and Sig. And Sig? Sig Nicious, her fiancée… he kept postponing their wedding.

“You’re my butterfly, but it’s taking you ages to come out of your cocoon, do you understand? You’re not ontop of this celebrity stuff, Trix. I love you, but you’re just not there yet. You and Haris Pilton are friends now, why don’t you ask her for more advice? We need this to be a marriage of equals.”

Then Trixany’s own voice, it felt more like it haunted her above the constant jealous, scheming thoughts, it resurfaced. “No. I can’t do this…”

Trixany inhaled deeply of the white vapors, shut her eyes, shut off her deeper consciousness. Just a few more hours of this and she would finally be caught up with everyone else. Maybe ahead.

Caught up… Didn’t she used to like running, catching up with friends on long sunny walks? That time Sharpen took her to Highmountain, hiking so far her calves felt they would burn from sun and walking, she swore to him that they would, but he was too far ahead to hear her. Hear her catching up, catching her breath… that adorable fool.

A Night Elf man was suddenly there in her mind. Sharpen had carefully braided hair, long braids that fell over his broad shoulders. First in green, then in bright blue—he was wearing a “CYANS HAVE MORE FUN” t-shirt in one of her memories—and at last, his hair washed to a rich pink in her mind. Trixany knew all the shades Sharpen was trying these days, she’d kept track of them all, knew the brand, the shade, how many were left in stock…

Screen Fifty-Two flickered on, white lines over a dark surface, suddenly filling with numbers and a silent white web of locations united by lines on a map as a simple display of Alliance lands started to slide by. Trixany had wanted to know what her Night Elf friend’s new hair color would be, just a whim—but the gossip closet was already running the numbers, making a mathematical projection. Based on the number of colors left in the shops Sharpen frequented, the price point he usually aimed for, the favorite colors he was usually wearing.

“Forecast… 90 percent…Black.”

“Black? Really? Sharpen’s such an upbeat guy.”

Trixany hated knowing that. It depressed her. So her friend, who never had much money, who was just curious enough to try new things, not that he’d do it for a living and consult someone like she would… Sharpen was going to run into a wall soon with all the other options he’d tried, because cyan was his preferred shade of all the blues, and he’d already gone with the closest shade of pink-red her liked on his spectrum, and going back to green was too close to his natural color… The machine was printing all this detail as part of its proof… So he would feel bold—think himself just as bold as when he chose pink--and settle on black to surprise his friends. Black like her gossip closet. Black like… some big, empty hole. Trixany could no longer think it through. So she already knew what he was going to do? No surprises, no spontaneity? No reason to talk to him. She no longer had to see him to know what he was doing. It wasn’t required. He was a blip on a screen. And when was the last time she’d spoken to Sharpen, the real Sharpen?

What had he told her? Something silly about animals. Her eye twitched, she curled a fist as she remembered it. “Spiders aren’t supposed to be caught in their own webs, Trix. All these morsels you’ve ever wanted… they’re right there around you. Fixed in your web, you can have them all. But you’re still not happy. Shouldn’t you know why not? Can’t you tell? The old you would have just handled it, she doesn’t—or didn’t take anyone’s crap, whether from some monster down in a dungeon or… the well-dressed blonde bombshell kind.”

“Wait, do you mean Haris Pilton or Siggy?”

Sharpen shook his head at her, “Who are you, anymore?”

And what had she said in response to that? Sig was away from the dinner table at the moment, taking a call on his comm. “I don’t eat bugs, Sharpen.”

“No, but you do like to slay things. You like to find targets and take them out. Fix things for yourself and people, for the world, hell—for the Horde, however you think that still helps thew world. You have a sense of justice, or you did. You like to sit down after a battle, smile at how you’ve helped. But now you just look miserable. You even look unwell—”

“MAYBE BECAUSE I DON’T EAT BUGS LIKE SOME STUPID NIGHT ELF!”

Sharpen and Trixany hadn’t spoken to each other since. It was a bad, tragic gaffe to make at a busy, high-tone Dalaran restaurant. It was like… it built up and built up from… she didn’t know where. And then, like a volcano, the stupid, stupid senseless things she said just exploded out of her. Violent in its own way. It blew a hole clear through a friendship.

Trixany rubbed at the bridge of her nose. That time she and Sig took Sharpen out to dinner in Dalaran… Because Trixany had missed him. Because Trixany had hopped on a motorcycle and blown out of her own engagement party in Silvermoon City, at Sig’s place. Sig’s fancy place with all his perfect friends, all that flawless life. The pressure should have been off, she’d made it. She wasn’t a B-woman. She was A-grade. Like meat. No, an alpha, on top. She was a singer, and he was a singer too. Both of them were good people, actually decent. And he liked her, genuinely. It really felt like the lead singer of the Elite Tauren Chieftans loved her, truly, so why was she so distressed? Why did it feel like she couldn’t get a breath at times…

Trixany inhaled again, breathed deeply a few more times though it felt like she was panicking. “Why! Why is this happening to me?”

This was all she ever wanted, just like Sharpen had said. But it felt like things were hooked into her instead. Bleeding her dry. Trixany always assumed she would feel… filled up.

Filled up with things.

Things.

About forty models of all races, Orc, Goblin, Forsaken, Draenei, Gnomes, women and men of all races strutted in time across her control screens. Surely, they all had different music at their particular fashion shows. But fashion models all seemed to have the same unnerved strut. Now she saw it. They were all terrified of falling, of looking stupid. But they were charging through it while ignoring themselves. Completely disregarding their own fears, that they were hungry or tired, tired of all of it. Or, even if they loved what they did, it didn’t show in their faces nor their movements.

Maybe later. When it was all off, they could be themselves and just smile. Nobody smiled that they liked it while on stage in front of everyone, selling what was on their bodies. First rule of modeling. Since she got her start… in Goblin Gentleman’s Magazine of all places, that was always the rule. She would know. It’s not about you. It’s about what’s on you. Not what’s in you.

Never in.

“What if I’m just a pig inside?” Trixany frowned. “Scrying orb, play Gaga—”

The intercom interrupted what she was saying. A metallic sort of gnome’s voice said, “Visitor for Miss Cuomo.” Trixany hadn’t the heart to change her name over to Mrs. Nicious yet, when things honestly weren’t going well in that area of her life. He kept calling her his ‘butterfly’ yet she was still being treated like some slimy bug stuck in its pod… cocoon  thing.

“What level?”

“Popularity level three—”

“Oh, well then I don’t have the time.”

“Security level 50. Guest is Coco Cuomo.”

Her step-sister. Well what did Coco want? She rarely visited. “Let her in. And I still want you to play Gaga. Play Swine.”

As soon as the door slid open and the short green Goblin calling herself Coco Cuomo looked up and heard her new theme music, she frowned.

“Yeah, I know who’s a swine alright.” The little lime-colored Goblin girl smirked at her Blood Elf sister. Trixany stuck out her tongue.

“Um, can you at least turn down Gaga squealing out that ‘I’m so disgusting’ down a smidge? I came with some important business, you know.”

“Well, I should have assumed it would be about that. More Kaja-Cola crap? I thought I made it clear I was done with them--”

“Yeah right, when they were the ones who fired you? And who are yous, hangin’ out in hea like Darth Vader himself? Mrs. Hot-shot Sig Nicious herself, I see.”

“It’s not technically named for him so I can’t get sued—”

“Enough of this nonsense!” Coco threw her hands up. “This is exactly why I’m hea, you’re totally obsessed! When is your wedding even? Unless you’re really that low ya gonna invite the whole family and not me.”

Trixany snapped her sass-mouth shut, for now. “Sig and I are doing our best to make this… adjustment. I’m not used to being so famous.”

Coco just stared at her Blood Elf step-sister for a while.

“Swiiiiiiiine! Swiiiiiiiiiiiine!” The music started to rev up as if something was about to explode in that black gossip chamber Trixany had sealed herself in, like an enchanted tomb.

“Paint her face and, paint his face and, be a swine for… just the weekend!”

Coco erupted with new emotion, “People are dyin’ out thea, Trixany! And you’re in here plotting some… starlette’s destruction? I been trying and callin and sendin’ messenger pigeons up here for a week almost, so finally I had to come myself. I thought somethin’ real bad happened to you, all I wanted was to get you to hand over the damn Kaja-Cola Fiesta Lime contract for a damn good cause, I don’t care if you fell out with the Kaja-Cola Girls. I need your surplus stash a’ cans!”

Trixany just blinked at her. Three screens over Coco’s head started running a program, but kept coming up with repeating blank lines.

“Trixany, you really haven’t heard? You’ve truly been ignorin’ all the sufferin! We’re trying to FEED thirsty people on the front lines against the Scourge!”

“Oh. Well… I had heard whispers of that trending.”

“Trending? You’re supposed to be a PALADIN! Scourge slayer by birth or something. But you’re out here ruinin’ lives of the uppercrust like there ain’t a bottom to the pie—what’s happened to my sista! What is WRONG with you?”

“…You can’t feed thirsty people?”

“But I can bust up a thirsty trick!” Coco brandished an arclight spanner at Trixany.

“What did you just call me?? And how did you come in here armed?”

Now Coco was screaming it, “I don’t have a sista anymore. I can’t take it, I can’t stand it! You’re goin ta the Shadowlands to help with the fight, if I gotta killa ya and send you there myself! Then, Coco charged Trixany’s villainess globe, making her wild Kezani warcry.

“Yer just a pig inside a Blood Elf body! Time for you to squeal out!!”

[rutilation]

I have some Hot Takes about some Icy Floes.  And also chapter 83, I guess.

But before I get to the ice floes, I’m going to work my way back through this chapter.

I find it interesting that Phos seems to balk at the idea of being repaired.  On the one hand, you can read it simply as them being too impatient in their current state to wait for repairs, but on the other hand, insofar as Phos’s augmentations represent something about their state of mind, it makes sense that their body is going to be fractured for as long as their mind is broken.  A new body part signals moving on, and Phos is in no state to do that.  Thus, we may be looking at gremlin-Phos for a while.  Or maybe I’m getting ahead of myself and next chapter will see the Lunarians tying Phos down and forcing some replacements on them.

Phos’s nightmare speaks for itself, so the only thing I have to note is that those magic words, “If only you were never here,” have reared their ugly head again.  Even if they’re using Antarc and the others as a mouthpiece, it seems clear that they’re really talking to themselves.

Like pretty much everyone else, I’d like to believe that Antarc would never say something like that to Phos… but it’s not like I foresaw Cinnabar rallying the troops to bury them alive either, so who knows.  On one hand, Antarc loved Kongou the most out of all the gems, and would likely be pissed at Phos’s shenanigans.  On the other hand, they are a sweetie.  But, even if they could be repaired, their memories are gone, so we’ll never know how they would have reacted.  

(Well, you know, they’re probably space dust.  But it sure is suspicious that Aechmea just so happened to have a fake piece of Antarc on hand when Phos got to the moon.  And what a coincidence that the aforementioned piece happens to be the exact same shape as one that broke off the actual Antarc.)

(…)

(He’s totally got Antarc sequestered away in a jar somewhere, doesn’t he?)

There’s something I find interesting about the conversation the gems have in the middle of the chapter.  They all express an easygoing acceptance regarding the gems on the moon, aside from Zircon who is (rightfully) worried about Yellow.  But, you’ll recall that Euclase suggested ice-breaking duty for any gems who were too rattled to sleep, and everyone present is someone whose partner/frenemy left for the moon.  So, what does that imply?  On that note, Bort is the only one who lost a partner to Phos’s rebellion that isn’t present.  (Also, it’s nice to see that Morga has grown to be more confident.)

Jade’s interpretation of what happened, along Red Beryl/Obsidian’s unquestioning acceptance of that explanation, is so galaxy-brained that it makes me wonder if they all suspect that Kongou let Phos out, but are unwilling to admit that to themselves.  Naturally though, Euclase seems to know what’s up.  I wonder if they’ll confront Kongou about it.

I had wondered how Kongou would react after nearly starting third impact, and it seems he’s entered conceal-don’t-feel mode.  It’s interesting that he’s keeping the fact that he let Phos out a secret; as far as I know, his programming wouldn’t compel him to withhold this information.  What is it that he thinks would happen if the earth gems knew he was unwilling to keep antagonizing Phos, and not just unable?  Another thing I noticed is that, while Kongou is sporting his usual stiff upper lip, the way his neutral expression is drawn seems just a bit more upset than usual.  I might be imagining it though.

I’m not sure if Kongou’s line here is an obtuse way of saying that spring is on the way, or if he’s saying that global warming is still a thing even after the death of humanity.  Though I must say, on a metaphorical level, his comment gels quite nicely with my observation from last month that reading this series is like being a frog in boiling water.  Anyway, if he’s not referring to the change of the seasons, it brings up a topic that’s been on my mind for a while: namely, what are the gems going to do if they lose their island?  

The subject has never been broached, but eroding away into nothing or being submerged by rising sea levels is the eventual fate of your average tiny island.  And when that happens, and the gems are forced to live underwater, they’d lose their immortality for all intents and purposes.  The saltwater would gradually wear away at them, and they’d have no way to harvest or even use the paste with which they repair themselves.  It strikes me as a bit of a glaring issue, but I’ve seen no acknowledgment of it, aside from a throwaway line about a document measuring erosion rates along the shore.  That said, ignoring uncomfortable truths is the gems’ favorite hobby, so I can’t say it breaks my suspension of disbelief.

If the island is revealed to be a volcanic caldera, then maybe they can hope for an eventual eruption which would bring forth new land for them to live on.  Unless of course the island is sitting on top of a strato-volcano, in which case an eruption would blast the island and everyone on it to smithereens.

Anyway, I’ve grown weary of talking about things that aren’t ice floes, so let’s get to it.  I’ve been having thoughts about them for a while now, and since this chapter features some ice floe action, I might as well take this opportunity to talk about it.  It seems to me that the ice floes function as something of a metaphor.  I think they serve to illustrate both the grief and despair that the gems endure, as well as their inability to reckon with such emotions.

I first made this connection when reading another user’s meta, which pointed out that in chapter 39, Phos’s head broke into the shape of the ice flows, thus showing that they see themselves as a sinner, which is what the ice floes apparently are.  (I can’t for the life of me find the post in question, but if I do, I’ll edit a link to it onto this post.)

There are lot of unanswered question about the ice floes, and we only know a handful of things about them:

They are the same type of being as the gems—inclusions inhabiting a crystalline solid.

They have no will of their own, but can reflect the negative emotions of those around them.

They speak a language that Kongou understands which the rest of the gem do not, aside from Phos and their vore-induced powers of translation.

But, there’s reason to believe that we haven’t gotten the full truth regarding the ice floes.  If they have no will of their own, then why do they specifically reflect negative emotions, and not just any thought that passes through someone’s head?  Why do they menace and break the gems with what seems like malicious intent?  Why are their screams so otherworldly compared to the sounds an actual ice floe would make?  Why are shaped so strangely?  Why are they “sinners?”

Here’s what I suspect is going on:  The ice floes are just sentient enough to be upset about their cursed forms, but since they have no recourse other than to direct their misery at others, they resort to impotently screaming at anyone in earshot, and trying to consume the gems in order to integrate them into the ice—perhaps they feel that if they can’t be happy and whole, then no one should, which is certainly a sentiment that has cropped up a few times in the series.  The way Kongou stares at the screaming ice floes in dismay as he clutches Phos’s eye makes me think that the two are being equated, that Phos’s wretched state is how the ice floes feel all the time.  It also makes me wonder what Kongou is hearing at that moment, seeing as he can understand them.  (And can I just say that this moment made me tear up a little?  Even after all the awfulness that just transpired, he’s worried about Phos, and is hiding their pieces in his sleeve for safekeeping. The society he created may be flawed, to put it lightly, but I just can’t dislike anyone who chugs that Phos-loving juice.)

And in typical fashion, the gems are entirely incurious about the ice floes, and are only annoyed with them for disturbing their beauty sleep. Their solution is simply to shut them up, with nary a thought to the meaning of their actions, and, as Morga so aptly put it, to cheer louder than the ice floes can scream.

So, like I said, it kind of seems like the ice floes are an extended metaphor for both human suffering, and a failure to reckon with it.  Man, remember how Phos’s first impulse upon learning that the ice floes are alive was to try and make friends with them?  Even if it was dangerously naïve, I kind of find myself wishing that they had tried.

Have any of you guys ever read Ursula K. LeGuin’s short story, The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas?  It’s a great, quick read.  You know who really needs to read it, and take its lessons to heart?  The entire cast, except maybe Ventricosus, or something.  Because if someone, anyone doesn’t start walking away from Omelas, then this can only end in tragedy.  (Phos tried to, but on their way out, they slipped on a banana peel and broke their neck.)

Which brings me to my thoughts on Cinnabar.  Two of the things they said this chapter seem to subtly imply that they haven’t made peace with the idea of being happy at another’s expense.  There’s their line about how Dia’s probably having more fun than they should be, and then there’s the moment when, after Kongou calls their happiness a blessing, they smile for only a moment before growing forlorn.  They don’t extend that sentiment towards Phos—heaven forbid anyone show basic decency towards the local scapegoat—but I do think these moments are subtle indications that Cinnabar is more thoughtful regarding their place in the world than the others.  You’ll also recall that the other gems didn’t spare much thought to Antarc after they were taken, so it’s nice to see Cinnabar pick up a bit of slack there.  Now that I think about it, if my musings about them in the last chapter were correct, they might be assuming that they’ve done Phos a favor, and that they’re perfectly fine now that they’ve made it back to the moon.  After all, they said themselves that they believe Phos is beloved there.

The only other thing on my mind this chapter is how, in much the same way the text has been preoccupied with both the joys and horrors of change, these last few arcs have concerned themselves with the act of moving on—the sense of freedom and relief it brings, but also the agony of being unable to let go, the futility of mere escapism, and the desolation of being the one who is left behind.

Finally, I said in my last essay that I’d be posting my crackpot Cairn theory in the near future.  Here’s a link to that for any interested parties who may have missed it the first time around.

[aion-rsa]

Vikings Season 6 Part Two Review (Spoiler-Free)

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This Vikings season 6 part two review is based on all 10 episodes and contains no spoilers.

Vikings has always been Ragnar Lothbrok’s (Travis Fimmel) story. First, we witnessed the rise of the man himself from farmer to visionary to earl to king to legend. Post-Ragnar, the show became an exploration of how Ragnar’s legend suffused and inhabited his sons, and the consequences of its interpretation upon enemies, frenemies, kith, kin and Kings the world over. And, now, the saga comes to an end with the second half of Vikings swansong sixth season, ten episodes that drip with all the blood, battles, tears, seers, fears, and philosophy you’ve come to expect from the History Channel’s flagship show (though this season will premiere on Amazon).    

It’s tough to write a spoiler-free review of a show like Vikings, especially here at the show’s conclusion where it won’t be surprising to learn that the blood flows like wine. Who lives, who dies? Who returns, who stays away? Even acknowledging the presence or absence of a surprise within a certain context could constitute a massive spoiler. As a consequence, much of this review will read like the ravings of the show’s very own seer, a web of insinuations and mystical mumbo jumbo designed only to make sense once the prophecy has been made flesh. 

Early in the season, Gunnhild (Ragga Ragnars) remarks: “Perhaps the Golden Age of the Vikings is gone.” This is a perfect distillation of the thematic ground covered by this half season. Here we have the fall of an empire, the erosion and sometimes amputation of the old ways, and the savage geo-surgery of a flailing world in flux. Absolute power corrupts absolutely; only the truly mad would seek to be king. The battle between paganism and Christianity, always at the forefront of the series, reaches its culmination here, and the episodes are awash with rich religious imagery and symbolism. There is also an answer, of sorts, to the question of which of Ragnar’s sons best embodies and encapsulates his legacy. Each of them carries a chunk of their father distilled within them: Ivar (Alex Høgh Andersen), his wrath, his thirst to conquer; Bjorn (Alexander Ludwig), his galvanizing spirit, his authority, his legend; Hvitserk (Marco Ilsø) , his pain, confusion and predilection for self-destruction; and Ubbe (Jordan Patrick Smith), his sense of adventure, his vision. Series creator and showrunner Michael Hirst knows that you come to these final episodes laden with ideas and expectations surrounding this philosophical set-to, and does a sterling job subverting or confirming them. His skill is in making the surprising seem inevitable, and the inevitable seem surprising.

Most of the Vikings’ world is bathed in blue and grey, an endless twilight of death and despair. Within these grim parameters the direction and cinematography never fails to evoke the beautiful, misty emptiness of the world: the howling of the wind on desolate hills; silence, smooth and dark, stretching towards the pale horizon. There are lots of sweeping aerial shots, which cast you, the audience, as Gods looking down on the action from above. The emotional distance this creates, especially above battlefields, reinforces the absurdity and futility of the bloodshed, something we’ve been encouraged to feel in every season, but never moreso than now. 

The season is front-loaded with some thrilling sequences (including a suitably chilling use of CGI), and at least one moment that will make the hairs stand up on your neck, and hot tears fall from your eyes. The mechanisms of plot necessarily predominate in the early episodes, as machination piles upon machination, twist upon turn, and the pieces of the tragedies and double-dealings to come are moved into place upon fate’s great chess-board: a broken Bjorn has tough choices to consider following his people’s defeat at the hands of the Rus; Ubbe embarks on a westward quest in search of the promised land; Ivar and Hvitserk continue their uneasy alliance with each other within the fraught principality of the maladjusted, half-mad Oleg (Danila Koslovsky). 

An accusation often leveled at Vikings is that it became a lesser show once divorced from Ragnar’s immediate orbit; that when he died, so too did the interest of many of the audience, who never quite took to his sons with the same level of enthusiasm. I can understand the hole that Ragnar’s exit left in the hearts of fans. He was a compelling, larger-than-life character, channeled with great charisma and presence by Travis Fimmel. But although this series is ostensibly about Ragnar, the story is also far, far bigger than him, a point this final season doesn’t fail to ram home. In fact, it’s the whole point.  Besides, the performances of Alexander Ludwig, Jordan Patrick Smith, Marco Ilsø, and Alex Høgh Andersen have always been uniformly excellent, generating more than enough presence, individually and collectively, to carry the show in Ragnar’s name. 

If there is a mote of truth in the accusation it’s probably attributable, in part at least, to the challenges of satisfying such a sprawling ensemble. One of the beneficial things about the show having shed so many characters over the past few seasons is that the sons now have proper time to grow, develop and, ultimately, crystallize. In particular Hvitserk, who was always the sketchiest and most ill-defined of the brothers, finally coalesces into something greater than the sum of his parts. Even his unhealthy attachment to Ivar begins to make sense, and comes to play an instrumental part in much of what makes the final stretch work so well. 

Ivar himself has always been a joy to watch – surely one of the greatest small-screen monsters – but occasionally he could be one-note, albeit largely thanks to his predilection for painting himself into a corner and then having to fight his way out again. Ivar’s relationship with, and to, the young Rus heir Igor (Oran Glynn O’Donovan) helps to humanize him, allowing him to recreate the better aspects of his own relationship with Ragnar, this time sans grand, King-busting plan. Ivar even demonstrates, from time to time, something approaching humility, which can’t be easy for a self-proclaimed God. Plus there’s a moment between Ivar and Katia (Alicia Agneson) that’ll have you punching the air in triumph, and then thinking strangely of yourself for having fist pumped such a thing. 

Read more

TV

Why Vikings Is Ending

By Michael Ahr

Once the heavy gears of plot have cranked into place, the season dips into ennui, as characters drift, break down and take stock. This can make the season a slog to get through, especially if you’re binge-watching; like mainlining misery directly into your blood-stream. Even knowing that this was undoubtedly a deliberate structural choice – to make you feel the characters’ helplessness, heartache, angst and boredom; to understand what drives them to do what they do when Gods and men fall silent – you’re unlikely to emerge from the middle-to-end section brimming with vim and good cheer. Here, another central question is tackled: is there any escape from the seemingly endless cycle of death, destruction and revenge in which Viking society finds itself mired? What hope have Ragnar’s sons of escape when Ragnar himself, the most vocal advocate for a new way of doing things, ultimately perpetuated the cycle by posthumously siccing his sons on his enemies? 

The final act makes everything worthwhile. Think of the middle act like purgatory before Heaven (or should that be Valhalla)? While not every storyline feels like it has an equal place and weight in the pay-off – the latter sections in Kattegat, especially, feel perfunctory and will probably struggle to elicit much interest – most of the series’ overarching narrative and thematic threads come together perfectly in the end, giving a deeply satisfying sense of simultaneous closure and open-endedness.   

There are many surface similarities between Vikings and Game of Thrones, in terms of their stock-in-trade themes, settings, cast-counts, body-counts and bundles of R-rated violence. Where they differ significantly is in Vikings sticking the landing, and not just with the final episode – which is beautiful, elegiac and haunting – but over and throughout the whole final half of the season (give or take a few minor missteps).

Game of Thrones’ once stellar reputation will perhaps forever be sullied by an ending, and a final season that many felt was flat, rushed and cack-handed. This is not the fate that will befall Vikings, which, although it never attained critical, commercial or pop-culture success on anything like the same scale as Game of Thrones, now joins the pantheon of shows whose exemplary endings have cemented their legacies. Vikings can hold its head high among such luminaries as Rectify, The Affair, The Deuce, The Wire, The Sopranos (divisive as its ending proved), The Shield and Breaking Bad (pre El Camino, at least), having offered up a finale that is so resonant, dream-like, and profound that it serves retroactively to render all of the good things about the series better, and wash away any and all misgivings and doubts. It’s a gorgeous ending that will stick in your soul for a long time.

Bon voyage, Vikings. It’s been emotional.   

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The post Vikings Season 6 Part Two Review (Spoiler-Free) appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3aPIISv

[crvmsdecorum]

"sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ɢɪғᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴋᴀʀᴍᴀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ sɪɢɴᴇᴅ, 'ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ'."

( adrianne palicki, 32, female, she/her ) Was that AURORA O'SHEA? I heard a rumor they work for the O'SHEA family, but who knows for sure ? They can be a bit ABRASIVE  & GRIM, but I also heard they can be WITTY & FORTHRIGHT. You’ll usually find them at JOHN HANCOCK CENTER in their spare time, when they’re not being an CLAN BOSS. You may want to keep an eye on that one ! 

tw: miscarriage, spousal abuse, murder, rape. 

Meet Aurora Jade O’Shea ; often goes by Rory, but don’t call her AJ if you know what’s good for you. She only allows her family and friends to get away with calling her Aurora, but if you are neither you are only allowed to call her Ms. O’Shea. 

Currently Aurora is 31 and will be turning 32 on Valentine’s Day -- a day she really doesn’t celebrate despite it being both her birthday and a holiday.

Some people would call her Amelia 2.0 or due to her out spoken candor many have nicknamed her the Brutal Beauty.

She is the second born daughter Mason and Catelyn O’Shea, but the fourth born child of the married couple overall. 

And just like her older siblings she caused trouble --  A LOT. 

Unlike her siblings though Aurora showed a calmness and was often told as a child she was the calmest one out of all of the sometimes. She had always showed kindness to everyone, even complete strangers too. 

Around her senior year of high school Aurora made it known to her family she wanted nothing to do with the mafia and lead a normal life. Clean slate and everything. It was easy for her too since she her hands weren’t stained in blood. She didn’t sat it out loud, but Aurora wanted to be away from the crime that constantly surrounded her family. 

Graduating high school and a small some of money she saved up (she didn’t want to take the O’Shea money), Aurora left Chicago all together and took a gap year. 

During her gap year the girl traveled the States and made countless friends along the way until she landed in New Orleans. She fell in love with that place and it’s culture. In that soulful town is where she started her law degree at Tulane University School of Law.

Four years later and shortly before her birthday is when Aurora had fallen in love. She fell in love with a man a few years older than her who recently became a lawyer. His name was Beau Hawthrone. 

Oh Aurora was so in love with the man. Beau was so charming with a kind heart. Their love for one another went by so fast that shortly after six months of meeting each other he popped the question and were married by that weekend. During all of this Aurora had learned Beau came from old Southern money with his family being the owners of Hawthrone Industries, a company that mainly dealt in medicine and architect.

Aurora soon came to learn that she had married right back into crime. The Hawthrone family had their fair share buried deep in arms dealing and drug trade. Scared and horrified by all of this with anger coursing through her of her husband not telling her this, Aurora confronted him about it and that is when the charming southern gentleman was gone. 

Beau had put his hands on Aurora all because of her tone. He put the Irish American in her place with a busted lip. She figured him doing this was a one time deal for right after it happened the man she knew and married came back to the surface and couldn’t stop apologizing. She was wrong. 

The next following year the beatings got worse, but Aurora hid them well thanks to the power of makeup and certain clothes. By day she was a law student with a bright future in her career and when she got home Aurora turned into a victim of spousal abuse. 

If Beau didn’t have his hands on her and using the woman as a punching bag of some kind he would take stabs at her emotionally. From all of this it slowly turned her into a cold woman and no longer was the bright candor woman she grew up to be. 

One night though the beating had gotten so bad for Aurora. She had just gotten home and had left work early due to feeling sick so of course the married woman to the hospital to only find something horrible out. Aurora was pregnant. She thought maybe telling Beau about this would make him see the error of his ways and straighten up -- IT DIDN’T. 

In a fit of fury of learning he impregnated his wife Beau put his hands on her and wouldn’t stop. His reason? He didn’t want children and worried it would ruin his career as both a lawyer and a shareholder of the company. Beau was greedy and didn’t want to share it with any children of his. It was bad enough he had to share it with his older brother despite the fact the older Hawthrone didn’t want nothing to do with the company. The brothers can blame all of that on their late father’s will and her mother’s decision in handing it to the boys. 

When his wrathful rage was over Aurora was unable to move and could hardly see either. Seeing this of what he had done to his wife, Beau had trashed the house to make it look like a home invasion and with Aurora still on the ground he then proceeded to rape her in attempts to make the story more believable. He even went as far in injuring himself. Beau then had called the cops and sounded like a frantic husband who had failed in keeping both their home and his wife safe. If he wasn’t a lawyer the man probably would’ve made a career out of being an actor. As they awaited for the paramedics to arrive Beau kept repeating like a mantra to Aurora on what to say to them.

The proper authorities and paramedics arrived to take the married couple to the hospital with their main attention on the wife. Her eyes were swollen shut, her lip busted open, nose most likely broken along with her body being covered in bruises. While there she learned she suffered a few broken ribs and was at risk for kidney failure due to trauma, but of course that wasn’t all. She had suffered a miscarriage. 

With all of this information and the loss of her unborn child, Aurora had decided enough was enough and that she was going to deal with this HER way. The O’SHEA way, not the lawful way. 

Arriving home a few days later everything went back to normal and Aurora waited. She waited for her wounds to heal and waited for Beau to strike again for.

Three months later and it was time. Aurora had left the college campus early and left a voicemail on her husband’s office phone that she had a surprise waiting for him when he gotten home. She had his favorite homemade dish prepared with a glass of some of the finest wine they had in their cellar.

Beau asked her if she was up to something to which Aurora responded, “Can I not do anything nice for my husband?” was her answer to his question. After dinner the two retreated to the bedroom and while Beau awaited for his wife, she had changed into something a little slutty for him. When she came out of the bedroom with that smile on her face, Aurora had a syringe hiding behind her back that contained a deadly poison within it -- batrachotoxin.

As the good wife straddled her husband is when her smile disappeared with a glare followed by the words, “You had it coming.” and with no warning she injected the poison into his bloodstream by jamming the needle in his chest. Out of this action Beau slung her off the bed and onto the flood with him taking the needle out of his chest though before he could do anything against Aurora is when the toxin took effect. Beau had fell to the floor and was becoming paralyzed thanks to the toxins. Acting quick Aurora had set their bedroom curtains to ablaze and quickly went down the stairs with a fresh pair of clothes in hand. 

When it was all over and her house burnt, Aurora’s story stuck with her not being home at the time of the fire that taken the life of her husband. Aurora honestly did cry yes, but not for what you think. She cried at his funeral not for his lose, but for her freedom. A freedom she thought was long gone. 

After the funeral Aurora picked up the pieces of her life and not long soon gotten her degree in aw. Upon getting her diploma she up and left again, but this time to California -- San Francisco to be exact. She wanted to start somewhere fresh and when she arrived there, Aurora went back to her maiden surname. 

Several years have passed and like I said, Aurora is about to turn 32 on Valentine’s Day. She has decided to return home due to the news she has heard of a war brewing with her family smack down in the middle of it. 

Aurora is honestly worried about how her family will see her now since it has been years since she barely had any physical contact with them and only keeping up with them through phone calls. She knows she has changed a lot since leaving Chicago behind for she was no longer the kind gentle soul with a daredevil side, but now she is someone who is much more blunt now and doesn’t give a damn if it sounds harsh or not. Since Beau’s death the lawyer has taken up self defense classes to improve her fighting skills and mastered it. 

Upon arriving to the Chicago, Aurora recently has taken up the job as District Attorney and is ready to face the enemies of her family all while protecting them. It’s time to show Chicago just how much she has changed.

WANTED CONNECTIONS: anything tbh. former flames (both sexes), friends, frenemies, former classmates. 

[salvatoreschool]

Legacies EP on Hope's Latest Sacrifice and Vardemus' Jaw-Dropping Reveal — Plus, Find Out Who's Visiting Freya

Thursday’s Legacies revealed that someone at the Salvatore School is not who they appear to be — which is saying a lot, considering a good portion of the student body is made up of literal werewolves.

While Lizzie and Hope battled their way through an alternate reality based on the hits of the 1980s (killing a minotaur in the process!), their fellow classmates navigated a different type of battlefield at the Salvatore School’s ’80s decade dance. Most notably, Josie and Landon almost had sex for the first time, though Josie pumped the brakes when she discovered a song Landon wrote for Hope in Penelope’s magical spy journal. (That thing just keeps coming in handy, doesn’t it?)

Meanwhile, Sebastian tricked Wade into freeing his physical body from its tomb of desiccation (no thanks to MG and Kaleb), and Headmaster Vardemus was revealed to be — wait for it — Clarke in disguise!

Below, executive producer (and this episode’s co-writer) Brett Matthews breaks down the week’s biggest twists, from Vardemus‘ Buffy-esque reveal to Josie’s impending meeting with… Freya Mikaelson?

TVLINE | This was one of those episodes that proves Legacies can get away with anything. Where did the inspiration for the video game world come from?

I wrote the episode with Thomas Brandon, and we’re both kids of the ’80s. As soon as we knew we were doing a decade dance, we thought, “This is the era we’re most comfortable with.” And once that concept crystalized, we tried to infuse the episode with as much of it as possible. Evan Warner, who cut the episode and is a brilliant editor on our show, really pushed the video game aspect of it. Between him and Barbara Brown — who has directed some wonderful episodes of ours, including the musical one last year — we just really went for it. A lot of the stuff skews more towards movies of the ’80s, and that’s because Thomas and I are products of that. We’re in this business because of the movies we saw in the ’80s as kids.

TVLINE | Plus, the game gave Hope and Lizzie perfect outfits for the dance.

Yes. Actually, this was all a long ploy to get Matt Davis into an Indiana Jones outfit. The world needed to see that.

TVLINE | And we thank you for it. Hope and Lizzie made for an interesting pair. What made Lizzie the perfect person to remember Hope first?

The perfect person is often the worst person, right? We asked ourselves, “Who is in the most complicated and interesting scenario if they remember first?” Given everything that’s going on between Josie and Landon, Lizzie was the perfect person. Hope is her frenemy and she has an allegiance to her sister, so putting Lizzie right in the middle of that scenario just felt right.

TVLINE | I love that they hugged at the end. Any chance for that friendship — or at least that truce — to stick?

I think so. I think they’re friends. They’re combative and whatever, but that’s just high school. In my mind, they’ve always been friends, but they’re reluctant to admit it. I’ve enjoyed watching the evolution of that relationship, and it’s one that will continue to evolve.

TVLINE | I’m into the idea of Hope and Rafael. Any chance we’ll explore that relationship now that Hope is letting Josie and Landon do their thing?

It’s complicated. Raf does have feelings for Hope, and in a world where Hope is seemingly free and available, he would want to explore that, of course. The question going forward will be whether she can truly move on from Landon. That will take place over the course of the next few episodes.

TVLINE | Take me inside Josie’s head. Is she worried Landon is developing new feelings for Hope, or is she just starting to put the pieces together?

She’s starting to put the pieces together. It’s very much on the front of Josie’s mind, and it’s something she feels she needs to get to the bottom of. Heading into the next episode, you may see Josie go as far as to New Orleans to solve this burning question. (Editor’s note: I guess we’ve finally ID’d the person Freya was talking to in that first-look photo!)

TVLINE | Switching gears, are we to assume that Vardemus has really been Clarke this whole time?

Yes, he has!

TVLINE | I was pretty shocked by that. Were there hints I missed along the way?

Pretty shocking, right? It’s something we’ve known all along, and there was the occasional breadcrumb, but the reality is that Clarke has done a good job infiltrating the school. His plan will be laid bare over the next couple of episodes. In our minds, you’ve never met the real Vardemus, only Clarke.

TVLINE | Does he have the power to absorb people like Malivore?

Well, what do we know about Clarke? We know he’s, in fact, the son of Malivore. Why he’s in the state he’s in, as well as what that state exactly is, will be a question that gets answered in the very short term.

TVLINE | Another person I don’t trust is Sebastian. Will he harbor a grudge against MG and Kaleb for not helping him?

I think Sebastian harbors a grudge against the modern world. That’s really his story. The fun of this character is that he’s a vampire that’s kind of from the old show; Sebastian and Damon Salvatore would have had beers and been totally cool. The world has changed so much, in many ways for the better, but it’s also gotten worse in other ways. He’s sort of a character from The Vampire Diaries, but the world has shifted under his feet. What it means to be a vampire on this show is not what it used to mean in The Vampire Diaries. This show is not a gothic romance, but Sebastian is ripped from that world, so his frustrations lie in the modern world. That’s something we’ll dive into. You’ll learn a lot about Sebastian, including where he comes from and why he feels the way he does about the world.

TVLINE | And will any of that involve him continuing his relationship with Lizzie?

A lot of it will. That’s going to be a really important relationship this season. They have amazing chemistry, and Thomas Doherty is a pleasure to work with. We’ll find out how he really feels about her, as well as how she really feels about him. Lizzie’s very conflicted about what he means to her and to her mental health.

Your thoughts on this week’s Legacies? Did anyone else get Buffy vibes (“Ben is Glory, Glory is Ben!”) from that big Vardemus reveal? Whatever’s on your mind, drop it in a comment below.

[meteora-writes]

On Broke Wings (They Collapse)

Fandom: Supergirl Pairing: Querl Dox/Winn Schott Jr Warnings: OOC Characters, Angst, Mild Blood, Buried Alive, Brainy is bad at feelings, Lena is a bro, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, pre-slash, getting together Description: People think Brainy and Winn have a sort of frenemy style relationship. They bicker, and argue, and occasionally get in each other's faces when things get heated. What many people at the DEO don't seem to realize however is that they also both have feelings or one another. So when Winn gets hurt on a mission after being pushed by Brainy, some of the Super Friends don't exactly want him around while they wait for Winn to recover. Brainy takes their reactions a bit harder than one would expect. Fortunately, Winn still wants him around. Authors Notes: So this is written on a request from @has-a-blonde-sidekick, who it won’t let me tag! Anyway, it’s for my Buried in Rubble square of Bad Things Happen Bingo, so I hope you all enjoy. Read on AO3

He didn’t mean for it to happen. His calculations had put the probability at only 7.3% that Winn could possibly be harmed when Brainy pushed him towards the unblocked exit behind them. He shouldn’t have been harmed. But he was, thanks to one last slaver with an energy weapon they had absolutely no business owning.

Winn had been their bait, much to everyone's protest. But the slavers wanted humans. Intelligent ones. And since Winn had got back he had shown he was more than capable of taking care of himself thanks to training with the Legion while he worked to save the future.

Brainy feels like his brain is short-circuiting as he hears the crack of concrete and thunderous roar of the far wall of the abandoned factory collapsing behind him. He turns just in time to see Winn duck down and try to protect himself as the large shards of the former wall rain down on him. He’s at the pile of rubble before it can even settle, Kara and the others joining him a moment later when they’ve disarmed the last slaver and gotten him cuffed with the rest.

“What were you thinking, Brainy! The wall was already damaged, why would you push him towards it!” Alex snaps as Brainy reaches for the same piece of rubble as her. He reels back, unsure of how to react to such a statement. Alex is mad, clearly, and not just because she’s worried for her friend.

“I was-” He’s cut off by Kara tossing a large piece of rubble to (hopefully it was to and not at?) him which he sets aside with the rest. Between him, J’onn, Alex, and Kara they have Winn uncovered quickly, and it’s clear he’s badly hurt from the way he’s lying curled up on the dusty floor.

He’s unconscious. Blood running down his face from somewhere in his hairline, a clearly broken arm tucked against his chest, and a multitude of scrapes and bruises all over. Brainy makes a move to go to him, but J’onn pulls him back as Kara steps forward. He can tell from the look of concentration on her face that she’s x-raying him. He tries to pull out of J’onns hold, but the Martian has a stern look on his face and refuses to budge as Kara scoops Winn up and flies off with him after telling Alex she’s taking him to the DEO.

Alex is already running to her DEO issue SUV to follow before Brainy really knows what’s happening.

“We need to help with the prisoners,” J’onn says, tone oddly cold. Brainy assumes it’s because he’s picking up on the frustration and worry from all of them and he’s trying to block it out.

He nods numbly, and J’onn finally lets go of his arms before turning to go help the DEO agents that remain in getting the slavers out of the one remaining exit and into the waiting vehicles outside. Something inside him is screaming to go to Winn, make sure he’s going to be alright. But he knows he has a job to do, and that Kara wouldn’t have moved him if he wasn’t stable enough to handle it. She would take him to a hospital and not just the DEO if he was in any danger. He lets those facts comfort him. As much as they can anyway. His faith is logic is cracking like the wall that fell on the man he loves.

And isn’t that a sobering thought. He loves Winn. And he is aware that Winn has some kind of romantic feelings for him in turn, but neither has dared speak it yet. And now Winn is hurt and all Brainy can think of is getting his job done as quickly and efficiently as possible so he can fly back to the DEO and get an update on Winn’s condition.

Once the last prisoner is secured in the transport, he’s off like a shot, flying as fast as he can towards DEO headquarters. It takes a few minutes. They were fairly far north. So by the time he arrives Alex has just arrived herself a few minutes before and is with a few of the other medical staff members in a private room with Winn.

A room which has Kara standing at the door, still in her costume with her arms crossed over her chest and a look on her face that Brainy hasn’t seen before. It’s a combination of worry and raw anger. He finds himself slowing his pace as he approaches.

“Supergirl, is there any word yet on Winn’s condition?” He asks, stopping a few steps back and craning his neck to look past her and in through the small window on the door. He can’t see much. Winn is laid out on a table, several people shuffling about around him and obscuring him mostly from Brainy’s view.

“No, but he has a skull fracture and a broken arm and ankle. What were you thinking, Brainy? Didn’t you see the wall was about to come down?” Kara asks, frustration clear in her voice as well as the worry over her friend.

“I had assessed the probability of the wall collapsing at 7.3%. I was unaware that one of the combatants had an energy weapon, one not used on his home planet I might add, until he discharged it and hit the wall. Had I known, I would never have pushed him to run to the exit on that side of the factory,” he explains, his own frustration growing as he speaks. He knows he screwed up. He knows he’s responsible for Winn being hurt.

Kara remains silent for a long moment, clearly processing what he’s said before speaking. That or she’s listening in on what’s being said in the room behind her. “Alex and the others are going to be in there for a while, I think it’s best if you go for now.” Her tone isn’t it’s usual warm one, but he can see in her eyes that she doesn’t mean to hurt him by saying it.

Nodding, he pauses mid turn and looks back at her over his shoulder. “Please let me know when Winn is awake,” he says, waiting for a nod from Kare before heading down the hall and to the locker room.

It’s a bit overwhelming. Everyone acting so… harsh, towards him. Worrying for Winn. Being unable to do anything but go back to work.

He gets as far as the labs once he’s changed back into his DEO issue work clothes when he feels the urge to be anywhere but at his desk. His desk where is also Winn’s desk. That’s how he ends up in Lena’s lab, pacing the familiar space that holds no memories of Winn.

He doesn’t hear Lena walk in, too focused on running simulations and calculations deep in his mind. He knows he’s just making things worse for himself by doing so, but it’s all he can think to do given that he’s been banished by his friends from being where he most wants to be.

It takes Lena stepping in front of him and putting a hand on his shoulder to get Brainy to actually stop and look up from where he’d been staring at the floor. He has to blink a few times before he’s able to see her, tears he didn’t realize he was shedding clouding his vision.

“Brainy, what are you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary with the others?” It’s the softest anyone has spoken to Brainy since the incident, now well over an hour ago by his internal clock, and it makes some strong feeling twist in his chest and his breath hitch.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Lena says, hand rubbing his shoulder softly as she guides him to take a seat on the small sofa on the far side of the room. “Winn’s going to be fine. I just spoke to Alex, they’ve got him patched up and resting with enough pain medication to make sure he’s comfortable when he wakes up.”

It takes him a minute to compose himself, but once he does he looks Lena in the eyes and tries to sort out how he’s feeling before he speaks. “Supergirl told me to go. I think she and the others blame me for Winn being injured on today’s mission. Which is an accurate assessment, I did push him and tell him to run to the exit on the wall that collapsed. But I didn’t intend for him to be hurt.”

“It was an accident,” Lena supplies, giving a sympathetic look that has tears welling up in Brainy’s eyes again.

“Yes. I don’t understand, the others act as if I intentionally pushed Winn into danger,” Brainy says, tone giving away how frustrated and affected he is by this whole situation. “Surely they must realize I would never hurt Winn! I love him, how could I possibly hurt him!”

The stunned smile Lena gives him only lasts a moment before she pulls him into a hug. He freezes, unsure how to respond until Lena’s hands rub his back and pull him a little closer. He finds his own arms wrapping around her in turn as the feelings he’s battling bubble to the surface and he beings to really cry.

~~~~~

When Winn wakes up he has absolutely no idea what is going on. He just knows his eyelids are heavy and he hears beeping and people walking around whispering. It takes him a bit to realize he can indeed open his eyes, and he blinks in confusion at the brace currently covering his elevated right ankle and the cast covering most of his left arm.

“Why’s my arm n’ leg all wrapped up?” he asks, words as slurred. He does some weird movements with his mouth and tongue, feeling like he can make them work right if he does something to wake them up. It doesn’t work.

Alex is at his side a moment later, relief clear on her face to everyone but Winn, who is looking at his fingers on the hand currently in a cast. He’s wiggling them and staring like he isn’t sure they’re actually his. “They’re broken,” Alex says carefully, pulling out a penlight and making Winn look up as she checks his pupils. “Do you remember what happened?”

Squinting and batting at the light with his good hand, he tries to think. He remembers going to some tech convention and letting himself almost be kidnapped for a sting operation. And he remembers a shoot out… “Did a wall fall on me?” he asks after a long pause.

Alex lets out a sigh of relief at that, glad his memory is intact and he isn’t showing any signs of brain swelling or damage so far. “It did, but you’re going to be fine. You just rest now.”

Winn nods before looking around the room expectantly then pouting. “Where ‘s everyone else?” People are missing. He’s sure of it.

“Kara’s helping J’onn interrogate the slavers. She’ll be in to see you soon.” Alex assures, already turning away to fiddle with the I.V. hanging beside Winn’s bed.

“Where’s Brainy?” Winn asks a moment later, earning a grimace in response. He doesn’t miss the face Alex makes, and it makes him worry far more than someone this high on pain meds should be able to. “Is he a’right?”

Clearing her throat, Alex straightens up and composes herself before speaking. “Don’t worry about him, just get some rest,” she repeats for the last time before turning down the lights and leaving the room.

Winn wants to call out to her and ask where Brainy is again, but the lowered lights and the soft beep of the heart monitor start to drag him towards sleep. He knows he should rest, but he needs to know if Brainy is okay. Alex didn’t say where he was like with Kara and J’onn… So maybe he got hurt too?

Before he can dwell on it further the pain meds that Alex increased without his knowledge kick in and he’s out like a light.

Hours later he wakes up to find Kara and Alex both sitting in the room with him. There’s pizza on a tray table nearby and they’re talking softly until Winn lets out a groan that announces his return to consciousness.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Kara asks, already up and at his side to help him get into a slightly more comfortable position, which is a real bitch given the arm cast and ankle brace.

“Peachy, think I’ll go for a walk later…” Winn says with a giggle that has Kara and Alex relaxing further. “Where’s Brainy?” he adds once he’s propped up more comfortably and has a slice of pizza set before him.

He’s too busy digging into what feels like the first food he’s had in ages, and not just roughly 5 hours, to notice the looks Kara and Alex trade. Lena came down with Brainy not long after Winn had woken up and gone back to sleep, and they were turned away, a bit harshly on Alex’s part. Brainy came back 2 hours after that, but this time it was Kara that shooed him away with a glare and snapped promise that he would get an update later.

When he doesn’t get an answer, Winn sets his pizza down and looks between Kara and Alex before looking past them to the open door to try and see if the Coluan is out in one of the beds in the main area of the infirmary. “Is he hurt? Did the wall hit him too?”

Kara shakes her head and steps into Winn’s field of vision, a smile on her face that he would know was fake if he wasn’t currently in the land of bunnies and pink elephants. “No, he’s fine. Don’t you worry about him. You just eat your pizza and get some more rest. You were hurt pretty bad.”

Winn scoffs and shifts away when Kara reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder. “I know that. ‘M not an invalid. Why won’t you tell me where he is? What happened?”

“Winn, we just think you should rest and not have too many visitors,” Alex says from her seat. “We don’t want to stress you out.”

“Not knowing if he’s okay is stressing me out,” Winn argues, a pout forming on his face yet again. “I want to see him.”

His tone makes it clear he isn’t going to back down, and Alex can’t up his meds to get him to fall asleep and drop it like she did earlier. Kara and Alex trade looks before both sighing. A beat later Kara walks out of the room, using the phone on the other side of the wall to call Lena’s lab and see if she and Brainy are still there.

A moment later she’s back and gestures for Alex to come with her. “He’ll be here in a minute,” she tells Winn before they both disappear out of the room.

Confused, Winn lets himself settle back into the mound of pillows that Kara made behind him. His head is throbbing in a way reminiscent of a migraine, though duller. He isn’t sure if that means the pain meds he’s on are wearing off or his frustration is just making his condition worse. Either way, he ends up closing his eyes and letting his head tip back against the pillow as he waits.

The sound of soft footsteps approaching his room causes Winn to open his eyes and lift his head in time to see Brainy step into his doorway. He looks… anxious. Face a bit ruddy like he’s been crying and eyes a little red. His image inducer is turned off for a change, and it’s clear he’s uncomfortable. Not that Winn can figure out why. He’s just happy to see him.

“There you are!” He says, relief bleeding into his voice as he reaches out his good hand and wiggles his fingers in a get in here motion. When the Coluan hesitates he heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes before patting the bit of open space on the side of the bed. “Get in here, Brainy.”

Hesitantly, Brainy comes forward, stopping a good foot away from Winn’s bed.

“Are you alright?” Winn asks, looking him over. “They didn’t want me to see you. I don’t get why. Did you get hurt when the wall fell too?”

Something in Brainy’s expression shifts so quickly that Winn doesn’t have time to process it before the other man shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. “I was still handcuffing one of the slavers when it fell. You were the only one injured.”

Winn sags back into the pile of pillows at that, relieved that Brainy is alright. “Come here,” he says, patting the edge of the bed again. “Come on, dude. I don’t bite.”

That gets a snort from the Coluan, who finally bridges the gap between them and comes to sit on the edge of Winn’s bed. “I am sorry, Winn. I did not mean for you to get hurt. I never would have told you to go that way had I kno-” He’s cut off when Winn reaches out and grabs his hand from where it rests on his lap.

Winn gives it a squeeze, noticing how warm the other man's skin is as he does so. “Stop apologizing. I don’t blame you. Woulda ran that way anyway. It was the closest exit,” he shrugs off, letting his fingers slip between Brainy’s as the Coluans hand turns in his grasp. It’s nice. Like they fit together perfectly.

When he looks up Brainy is staring him straight in the eyes, obviously unsure of how to respond.

Winn can’t help the dopey grin that spread across his face. “If I’d know holding your hand was all it took to render you speechless I would have done it ages ago,” he says with a nod before using their joined hands to pull Brainy a bit closer.

“Clearly you are being affected by the medication Alex has given you, I should-” he starts to stand, but Winn keeps hold of his hand and refuses to let him get away.

“Bullshit. I know I’m loopy but that doesn’t change how I feel. Now sit down and talk to me,” Winn manages to sound like his old self for the entire statement, but its effect is lessened by the slightly exaggerated pout that follows. It helps that Winn’s thumb is also stroking the back of Brainy’s hand in a way that is very calming.

Signing, Brainy sits back down, this time much closer, so the hand Winn is holding is in his lap and he can put his other hand on Winn’s arm. It’s a light touch, like he’s afraid he’ll be rebuked any moment for doing so. “What is it you wish to talk about?”

“Us,” Winn says bluntly.

“Us?” Brainy reiterates, head tilting a little as he squints at Winn.

“Yes, us. There should be an us.” It’s a statement of fact. Not a suggestion. And he can’t help but grin at the way the Coluans cheeks darken a bit at it. “Come on, I know you have a thing for me. And you’d have to be blind not to notice I’m into you. Spending two years in the future has had a good impact on me. I see your personality as charming now.” The sage nod that follows makes Brainy bark a laugh.

“We should discuss this when you’re on a lower dose of pain medication,” he points out, but doesn’t try to argue against the idea of them being an us . Instead, he looks around the room before turning back to Winn. “I will stay, but only if you agree to eat and then get some more sleep. I don’t imagine it’s healthy for you to be receiving so much medication on an empty stomach.”

Signing, Winn let’s go of Brainy’s hand so he can pick up his now room temp slice of pizza to take a bite. “Fine, but if you aren’t here when I wake up I’m getting out of this bed and coming to find you.”

That gets another laugh out of the other man, who nods and agrees before pulling the rolling tray table with the rest of the pizza over and grabbing a slide of his own.

Outside of the room, Kara and Alex stand a ways back with Lena, who’s smiling like the cat that got the canary. “I told you they didn’t hate each other,” she says, doing her best to keep her voice it’s usual tone.

Alex is just shaking her head while Kara looks absolutely stunned. Lena drags them away a moment later, promising them drinks on her so long as they both apologize to Brainy in the morning. Neither of them protests.

[icanhearyouglaring]

anything you can do, pt. 2

summary: There’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition between frenemies (a meet in the JL-AU) wally/artemis. b99-inspired. a/n: second part of a gift i’ve been preparing for @rachelisanerd​.  here is a link to pt. 1 also available on ao3

As luck would have it, Tigress doesn’t have to wait long to rub her lead in Flash’s face. The very next day, she gets to let her smug grin do the gloating as Aqualad goes over the mission plan to rescue some scientist from the Cult of Kobra. Flash pretends like he doesn’t notice her watching him, but the way his pen digs into the paper on the table in front of him tells her she is right where she wants to be: under his skin.

“Tigress.”

Tigress quits gloating (for now) and snaps her attention to Aqualad.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Stop calling me boss. You’ll keep watch at the south end of the base,” Aqualad says, pointing to a shack on the side of the mountain on screen. “You’ll be out of range for the mind link, but you’ll have eyes on the entire field from that position and we can’t have any surprises. As we will be under radio silence until we clear the mountain, you will not be able to contact us if there is trouble outside.”

“Got it, Boss,” Tigress says, nodding.

Aqualad internalizes his sigh and moves on.

“Finally, Flash, you will stay at the vantage point with Tigress. If something troubling arises, you run close enough to reestablish the mind link and let us know what’s happening outside. For the most part, we are not expecting any interference from beyond the confines of Kobra’s base, but we do not know when the Shadows are expected to make the trade for the doctor.”

“Quick question,” Nightwing says, raising his hand unnecessarily high. “Does Tigress get the point for spotting the Shadow or does Flash get the point for telling us about them, or do they both get points? No points?”

“Is this something that needs to be discussed right now?” Aqualad asks, not surprised in the slightest that it came up.

“There were a few complaints after the last mission so I thought it might be better to clear these things up before we go. I’m saving you a headache later,” Nightwing explains.

On Tigress’s left, Rocket snorts and whispers, “Someone’s a sore loser.”

Aqualad addresses everyone at the table. “We should hope that neither wins a point and the mission goes uninterrupted.”

“Like that’ll happen,” Superboy scoffs, leaning forward in his seat across from Aqualad. “I say Tigress should get the point.”

“No way,” Nightwing says, shaking his head. “Flash is the one doing the leg work, literally. He should get the point.”

Superboy snorts. “Spotting a Shadow takes more skill than being the human equivalent of a walkie talkie.”

Tigress doesn’t miss the way Miss Martian’s glowing eyes narrow at Superboy. She also doesn’t miss the way Superboy balks and sits back in his seat. Tigress briefly contemplates asking for a point for not missing a damn thing at this meeting.

“Hey! I thought we were friends,” Flash says, crossing his arms.

“Enough,” Aqualad says sternly. “Let us agree to play the point situation by ear and focus on the mission. If I see this bet getting in the way of the team’s performance, I will shut it down.”

That quiets the room, but it doesn’t mean the arguments stop. As Aqualad moves on to detail the logistics of the mission and the importance of maintaining a good relationship within the team, Miss Martian, using her alien-equivalent-of-a-walkie-talkie powers, lets everyone know their dutiful leader is less neutral than he appears.

Aqualad bet me a monitor duty shift they’d tie, Miss Martian says.

Wow, shut that gambling ring down, Zatanna says, hurt. All sub-bets are supposed to be placed with me.

We are not tying, Tigress says.

Flash agrees. Yeah, no ties. We’d have to do a sudden death round or something.

All in favor of sudden death being stealing the Batmobile? Nightwing suggests.

Abso-fucking-lutely not, Tigress says, before anyone can raise their mental hands in favor of sending her to hell.

Ditto, Flash says. Been there, done that, never want to do it again. The nightmares aren’t worth it.

“If anyone has any questions related to the mission, you can ask them on the Bioship,” Aqualad says, standing up (and snapping everyone’s attention back to him). “It’s time to go.”

-o-

“Oh, nice,” Flash says, leaning over to watch Tigress unpack her gear, “you brought the big bow.”

“Did anyone teach you how to be a lookout?” Tigress asks, organizing her equipment against the wall of the shack. “Were you absent the day they taught that you’re supposed to be quiet and actually look for things?”

Flash sighs melodramatically as he leans against the wall. “I have been looking, and according to the infrared scanner on my goggles, the only things around here are cute little woodland creatures and us.”

“Still failing at the whole quiet part,” Tigress notes, picking up a pair of binoculars and trying to do her job.

“Oh, come on, T. Humor me,” Flash says, zipping to and fro in the shack before plucking an arrow from her quiver and holding it towards her. “You and I are always getting stuck with the fringe jobs. You have to admit it gets boring after awhile.”

It does, but contrary to what he says, she doesn’t have to admit it.

“Did Nightwing smuggle you caffeine just to spite me?” Tigress asks, taking her eyes away from the trees to give Flash a look. “How can you be bored already? We’ve been here less than five minutes.”

“Well, you’ve been ignoring me the whole time,” Flash notes, tossing the arrow between his hands at too-high a speed.

Tigress rolls her eyes. “You know that arrow could fill this shack with smoke if you keep that up.”

“Noted.” Flash quickly places the arrow back where it belongs.

Tigress returns to scanning the treeline and sighs, “God, you’re like a puppy.”

“I am pretty cute, aren’t I?”

He is, but that is so not where she was going with that.

“You’re needy,” Tigress explains, checking another route for any movement. “You need constant attention. You have a ridiculous amount of energy. You eat so much.”

“Hey, I can’t help that last one,” Flash says, and Tigress has to imagine the pout on his face as her eyes catch some movement in a far clearing. Just a deer.

“Yeah, yeah, your metabolism, whatever. You’re still distracting.”

“Distractingly hands-shit–”   

Tigress takes the time to put her binoculars down, turn, and investigate his curse. Her eyes widen as she catches him cowl-less and smiling at her.

Tigress’s breath catches in her throat for a half-second before she yells, “Don’t do that! We’re exposed out here!”

“Calm down. I was hearing feedback,” Flash pulls his cowl back over his face and adjusts his ear piece covers. “So much for being quiet...”

The tense silence between them is broken by the sound of an owl hooting in the distance, and it is only then that Tigress snaps back into the moment.

“We’re on a freakin mission. How could you take off your cowl just like that?” Tigress asks, scowling behind her mask as her foot bounces against the floor.

“It’s fine,” Flash shrugs and shakes his head. “It’s just us. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Tigress counters, roughly turning back to her lookout duties. The binoculars refuse to remain still in her shaking hands. “There are a million reasons why it’s a big deal. It defeats the purpose of having secret identities. If someone sees your real face... First, they find your face, then they find your name, and then they find you. Or worse– they find the people you care about.”

Flash steps closer. “I know the reasons, T.”

“Then for such a smart guy, you are incredibly stupid. You won’t catch me flashing my face around anytime soon.”

Flash snorts. “Come on, Tigress, we both know that’s not your real face behind that mask.”

Tigress stills before she lowers her binoculars and turns to face him again. The smug look she’d expected to find isn’t there. Instead, she’s struck by the small, knowing smile he sends her.

“You knew?” Tigress slowly asks, her eyes locking with his.

Flash nods. “I had a feeling– and I recognized the glamour charm. Zatanna made one for Aqualad so he could come to Guardian’s bachelor party sans gills.”

Tigress fights the pressure building in her chest. Flash has managed to evolve from distraction to major life disruption. It was only a matter of time.

“If you tell anyone, I will use you for target practice,” Tigress says sharply, turning back to look through the binoculars and away from Flash.

“I won’t say a word. You can trust me. Scouts honor.”

Flash leans against the window frame and watches her. This goes on for a full minute, and with every passing second, Tigress finds herself wishing for the silence to end. Why couldn’t they just go back to picking at each other?

Tigress snaps, “Stop looking at me. Do your job.”

Flash sighs and walks over to the only other window in the shack. He lowers his goggles and does as she says, but the silence eats at them both.  

Tigress puts her binoculars down and catches him looking at her again. “Seriously, it’s like I can hear you thinking about it. What do you want? A medal? World’s Greatest Detective?”

“No, I just have questions.”

“Will you drop it if I answer one?” Tigress offers.

Flash launches into a string of questions. “Are you actually that tall? Can these charms change height? Who chose this disguise: you or Zatanna? Do you ever take that thing off? And is your hair really that color? Or have all of those ginger jokes you’ve been hurling at me since we met come from personal experience?”

“I said one,” Tigress groans, even though she asked for it. She goes back to looking out the window before four quiet words slip past her lips. “I might be blonde.”

“Hmm,” Flash says, practically appearing at her side and appraising her mask-covered profile, “I can’t see it.”

“That’s the point,” Tigress says, narrowing her eyes at the blurs coming into focus in the distance. “Q&A over. We have trouble.”

Flash straightens his stance. “Where?”

“Northeast quadrant. There’s movement in the trees, heading towards the east entrance. I can’t tell from here, but it looks like two people. You need to– no, wait, it’s too late for that. If Aqualad’s on schedule, they could be coming out of there any minute now.”

Tigress tucks her binoculars back into their pouch before she grabs her bow and plucks an arrow from her quiver.

She sends a quick look to Flash before she turns back to the trees and aims. “We have to stall the Shadows before they get to the mountain.”

Tigress lets the arrow fly and watches it arc through the air until it lands just to the right of where she last saw the Shadows. There is a three second period of silence before the arrow explodes. The sound echoes through the valley.

Now they all know they are not alone.

Tigress shoulders her quiver and latches her bow to her back before she turns back to Flash and says, “The Shadows should change course to investigate. We need to stall them.”

“On it,” Flash says, and before Tigress can blink, she’s in his arms and they’re zooming through the woods.

-o-

“Nice one, genius,” Tigress says, a bit breathlessly, as Flash puts her down at the edge of a clearing. “Half of my gear is back there.”

“You won’t need it,” is all the warning they get before they catch sight of the blades flying in their direction.

Too close.

Tigress starts to turn around to let her quiver take the hit, but Flash shoves her out of the way and most of the blades end up in the trees behind them.

“Ouch,” Flash says, pulling a shuriken out of his arm, “that stings.”

“You okay?” Tigress regains her footing and pulls her bow out in an instant.

Flash nods. “Just a scratch. I’ll be fine.”

“Where are they?” Tigress asks, scanning the treeline.

“One o’clock. Just one,” Flash answers, his goggles glowing. “The other one is still heading for the gate.”

Tigress launches her arrow at the center of the field and a cloud of white smoke fills the clearing.

“I’ll keep this one busy. You go after the other one,” Tigress orders. “You can’t let them reach the doctor!”

“I’ll be right back,” Flash calls out, jogging backwards into the forest. “Keep your comm on.”

“Got it.”

Tigress fires another arrow into the cloud of smoke, and this time, it sends the smoke into the air, leaving her target exposed. The figure at the edge of the clearing gets clearer as it runs right towards her. Tigress launches an arrow at the feet of the figure, but they jump in time to avoid the netting that releases from the tip. As they descend, they fire another barrage of shuriken at Tigress. Tigress rolls out of the way and pops up with her bow at the ready. She shoots at the ground between them and a sonic wave knocks her opponent off of her feet. Tigress moves in on her prey, slowly walking towards the fallen assassin. Hmm. The grinning cat mask in front of her confirms her hunch about her opponent, as if the sais and shuriken weren’t telling enough on their own.

“Don’t move, Cheshire,” Tigress says strongly as she aims her arrow at Cheshire’s mask. “It won’t end well for you if you do.”

Cheshire stands up as she appraises Tigress, and everything about her, from her fixed posture to the stagnant smile on her mask, sends a chill up Tigress’s spine. Her reputation may proceed her, but no one could have warned Tigress about the unnerving feeling of facing Cheshire in the flesh.

“Cute,” Cheshire says, easily twirling her sai in her hands. “Wish I had time to play, kitten, but I have bigger fish to fry.”

Tigress steels herself and narrows her gaze at her target. “Don’t move. Last warning.”

Cheshire keeps twirling her sai. “My partner says Aqualad’s out there. It’s been awhile since I’ve had some fun with him. I think it’s time for a rematch, don’t you?”

“I told you to stop moving,” Tigress says, releasing her arrow without hesitation.

There is strong satisfaction in watching someone try and dodge an arrow that releases a boxing glove before impact. Tigress has to work to tame her grin as the glove gets a good half of Cheshire’s mask and sends it flying into the dirt.

Cheshire’s face pinches as she bares her teeth at Tigress and charges, a mess of wild black hair and loose green fabric. Instead of the sai, or the sword, or the sudden screeching emanating from the valley, it’s the dark, determined eyes shining in the moonlight that have Tigress’s full attention.

It registers in slow motion, a feeling akin to an off-centered gear clicking back into place somewhere deep inside, and Tigress can’t do anything but lower her shot and let Cheshire tackle her to the ground as she realizes exactly who she’s fighting.

“Jade?” Tigress gasps, her mind snapping back into action as she instinctively blocks Cheshire’s incoming punch.

“What?” Cheshire–Jade– snarls, going in for another hit.

Tigress manages to free her legs out from underneath Cheshire and kick her back into the dirt.

“Jade,” Tigress repeats tightly before she sits up and asks, “is that you?”

“Who are you?” Jade says from the ground, breathing hard from the strength of the kick.

Tigress quickly takes off her mask and tosses it to the side. The million reasons to keep it on are outweighed by the million and one reasons to take it off for the woman in front of her.

“Jade, it’s me,” Artemis says, ripping the glamour charm from her neck and letting it fall to the ground beside her mask.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the clearing come from the wind rushing through the trees.

“Artemis.” Jade looks at her like she’s a ghost, and Artemis knows her own face must mirror her sister’s because for the longest time–

“I thought you were dead,” they say, breaking their stunned silence in unison.

Jade holds eye contact with Artemis as she stands and holds her side.

“Dad said–” Artemis’s voice fails her, as do her legs as they refuse to move. “Dad said you were dead.”

“He’d like that, wouldn’t he?” Jade says, stopping just a foot away from Artemis. “I can’t believe you’re here right now. I’ve been to your grave.”

Jade holds out a hand and Artemis takes it and it feels so wrong. Artemis stands and faces her sister, hoping with all her might that this is not some trick.

“I had to disappear,” Artemis chokes out, never having thought she’d have to explain herself to Jade. “He wanted me to replace you. I didn’t– I wouldn’t–”

“You couldn’t,” Jade says darkly.

“You– How–” Artemis’s question is cut off by the voice in her ear.

Miss M neutralized the Shadow before I got there. On my way back to Tigress.

“I have to go,” Jade says, looking back and forth between the mountain and Artemis.

Jade presses her hand against her ear as she starts walking backwards, towards the edge of the clearing. “On my way.”

Artemis takes a step forward. “Jade– you–”

Jade shakes her head, picks up her mask, and continues sinking back into the treeline.

“Don’t worry about Dad,” Jade says, quickly donning her mask. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Jade, wait!” Artemis calls out, echoing the last words she’d spoken to her sister so long ago. “Don’t go...”

Her heart sinks as Jade disappears into the trees and it takes every bit of strength she has to not collapse to the ground right then and there.

Jade is not dead. She didn’t know her actual life could feel like a bigger lie than the one she constructed for herself. She’s so consumed by the thought that she doesn’t even hear Flash stumble through the trees.

“T? What happened?” Flash asks, slowing to a stop beside her. “Did you get yours?”

Artemis doesn’t dare look him in the eye. Instead, she focuses on what she can see: the tear in his suit and the blood on his arm.

“Give me your arm,” Artemis instructs, mechanically pulling a wound dressing from her belt.

“It’s no big deal. I’m already healing.” Flash cranes his neck away from her as he extends his arm towards her. Artemis doesn’t need to look at his face to know his eyes are closed. “Where’s your Shadow?”

“Gone.” Artemis presses the dressing against his cut and applies pressure. “Cheshire uses poisoned blades. You might burn through it, Mr. Metabolism, but it’s going to take awhile for the wound to close.”

“Cheshire? Was that– uh, you know your glamour charm is off, right?” Flash trails off uncomfortably.

“You can look at me,” Artemis says, checking that the dressing will hold. “It’s fine. I don’t need it anymore.”

He keeps his eyes shut. “The reasons–”

Artemis cuts him off and looks up. “My reasons aren’t reasons anymore.”

Flash opens his eyes, takes a good long look at her, and frowns. “You’re shaking. What happened?”

“Oh,” Artemis says, looking at her hands, “I am. Yeah, that’s– uh, that’s probably the shock.”

“What happened? What do you need?”

Tigress, Flash. We have the doctor in the Bioship. Heading to the pick up location. Confirm your status, Aqualad’s voice buzzes in their comm lines.

“Zatanna,” Artemis whispers, crossing her arms as she tries to quell the shaking. She shuts her eyes tightly and tells herself to get it together, but she can’t. “No one else. I need Zatanna.”

Flash responds to Aqualad. “Not ready for pick up. Had a run in with Cheshire near the south entrance, but she got away. Heading back to the shack to collect our gear.”

Cheshire? Are you two okay?

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just a little cut up, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. You guys should get the doctor out of here in case she called for backup.”

Cut up? Cheshire uses blades laced with jellyfish poison. Did either of you get hit?

“Maybe once, maybe three times,” Flash says, drawing out his answer. “I’m starting to feel it. I would be grateful if Zatanna could pop in at the shack with one of her antidotes.”

Sure thing, Zatanna chimes in. I’ll wait for you there.

“Great, thanks,” Flash says. “The rest of you can get out of dodge. We’ll use the nearest Zeta-Beam to meet you at the Watchtower.”

Alright, Aqualad relents. Be careful. Kobra’s men are fanning out into the forest to secure their perimeter.

“Got it. Flash out.”

“Thanks,” Artemis says, opening her eyes. “Did you really just call off our ride?”

“You didn’t want the whole team around right now,” he explains, before he nods in the direction of the shack. “We should start walking.”

“Right,” Artemis says, nodding. After a second, she adds, “Are you okay? I only saw one cut.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was just the one. Had to play it up for the boss.”

Artemis snorts lowly. “He doesn’t like it when we call him boss.”

“Then it’s a good thing he can’t hear us,” Flash says, tapping on his comm.  

The forest is rocky, but not enough to slow them down. They follow a trail up the mountain, and though Flash tries to play off every little slip or sway, Artemis makes sure to stay within arms length of him, in case that poison is affecting him more than he cares to admit. Her slight worry subsides the minute he starts talking again.

“So,” Flash starts slowly, “now that I can see the blonde, I have to admit it. It works for you.”

“Thanks,” Artemis says shortly, walking past him to lead the way.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Nope,” she answers quickly, but the word leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

“O-kay,” Flash says, not pushing it further.

They walk in silence for awhile longer, giving Artemis ample time to regret her decision. Jade said she’d take care of their father and something tells her Jade’s definition of taking care of things hasn’t gotten any more tame with age. If anything, she wouldn’t be surprised if she found out tomorrow that Sportsmaster had been broken out of Iron Heights only to have his ass kicked right outside the prison gates. She’s not sure Jade’s reached the point of patricide, but what does she know, right?

When the shack comes into view, Artemis abruptly stops walking and turns around. Flash nearly walks straight into her, but stops about an inch away before he takes a step back. Artemis knows that the second she sees Zatanna, she will break down, so this has to happen now.

“Actually, yes, I want to talk about it.” Artemis says, exhaling loudly. “I need to– I should practice saying this.”

“Okay then, think of me as your practice dummy,” Flash says, jerking his thumb at the lightning bolt on his chest.  

There’s a joke there, an easy one, but Artemis lets it go unsaid and gets straight to the point.

“Right, well,” Artemis stumbles over her words before she shrugs her shoulders back and says, “first off, my name is Artemis.”

Flash extends his hand towards her for a handshake and says, “Nice to meet you. I’m Wally.”

“Wally.” Artemis pauses. “Really?”

“Hey.”

“Okay, okay... uh, next thing. When I was seventeen, I– uh, faked my own death,” Artemis says, speeding up towards the end.

Flash stops shaking her hand as his grip tightens.

“You what?” he asks, eyes wide.

Artemis pulls her hand away as she hurriedly shrugs and explains, “Well, it was either that or kill someone.”

“What?” Flash repeats, waving his hands at her.

“This is why I need practice,” Artemis says, wincing as she throws her hands in the air. “Forget it. Let me start from the beginning. My name is Artemis. My dad is a bad guy. Literally. He’s Sportsmaster. My mom is an ex-con. She was Huntress. I had a sister. I have a sister. That’s Cheshire.”

“Okay,” Flash says, holding a hand to his head as he paces back and forth. “Okay, okay, okay.”

“Stop that.” Artemis swats at him. “It’s really complicated, okay?”

“Okay!” Flash yelps, unintentionally throwing water on the grease fire that is this conversation.

“Stop saying okay!”

“I don’t know what else to say!”

“Stop yelling!”

“You stop yelling!”

“Both of you: piz ti!” Zatanna whisper-shouts at them from the door of the shack. “You’re going to get us caught. Now get in here.”

Zatanna waits to unzip their lips until she’s done applying antidote to Flash’s wound and Artemis is finished packing her gear, much to their silent and much-mimed protest. After Artemis’s first three weak words (Cheshire is Jade), Zatanna looks at them both and promptly throws their plan into the wind. Instead of taking them to the nearest Zeta Point, she opens a portal, pushes them through, and they end up sitting in a line on the couch in the living room of Artemis’s apartment.

Artemis places her pack on the coffee table before she stands up and turns to face her supposed best friend.

“What the hell, Zee?” Artemis says, waving at her sparsely furnished living room. “Why’d you bring us here?”

Flash’s “Is this your place?” goes largely ignored as Zatanna stands up and grabs Artemis by the shoulders.

“Jade is Cheshire?” Zatanna asks, her bright eyes boring into Artemis’s.

“Yeah,” Artemis exhales.

The jitters she’d been feeling since seeing Jade fade, giving way to an aching emptiness in the pit of her heart.

“Cheshire is Jade,” Artemis repeats, her voice wobbling.

Zatanna’s eyes steel as Artemis’s eyes fill with tears. As she engulfs Artemis in a hug, Zatanna slowly leads them toward her bedroom door.

“Stay here,” Zatanna says, as Artemis buries her face in Zatanna’s shoulder. Zatanna is the only reason she’s still upright.

Artemis kicks the bedroom door shut behind, hoping it will muffle the pained sob that claws its way past her lips. That one and the next one and the next one.

-o-

Artemis’s swollen eyes open painfully slow, giving her time to use her other senses to gather her surroundings. The faint smell of coffee in the air coaxes her into full consciousness, partly because she craves it and partly because Zatanna is still snoring next to her and she doesn’t remember setting the timer on the coffeemaker before falling asleep. She slips out of bed, careful to not wake Zatanna, who’d so gracefully taken on the role of human tissue dispenser for the night.

Artemis tiptoes her way to the door, opens and closes it without so much as a click, and heads towards the light emanating from the kitchen. She stands in the doorway for a moment, taking in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of Wally pouring himself a cup.

“You’re still here?” Artemis asks, stepping into the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah,” Wally says, twisting around to face her. “No one told me to leave and I fell asleep. That is a really comfortable couch. You want a cup?”

“Yeah, thanks. I didn’t think we’d be so long. Oh shit,” Artemis groans, rubbing her palm against her temple. “Aqualad–”

“Taken care of,” Wally interjects as he pulls another mug from her cabinet. “I told him we’d debrief later. Took a little creative license with the reason why.”

Artemis takes a seat on the barstool by the kitchen counter. “What’d you tell him?”

Wally laughs to himself as he fills her mug and holds it out to her. “You had bad clams for lunch.”

“Thanks,” Artemis says, rolling her eyes and taking the mug in her hands, “if only. Is it weird I wish that were the reason?”

“Nah,” Wally says, shrugging as he leans against the countertop across from Artemis.

“What a night,” she mutters into her mug before taking a sip.

“It wasn’t all bad.”

Artemis snorts. “Easy for you to say.”

Wally places his mug on the countertop and “Look at it this way: we rescued the doctor. No major injuries. Mission accomplished.”

Artemis leans forward, rests her head on her hand, and flatly asks, “What else you got, Mr. Brightside?”

“You have a sister again, and well, I don’t know about you, but I made a new friend,” Wally says, smiling as he takes a sip of coffee.

Can’t argue with that, Artemis thinks, pursing her lips as she watches him. He’s made himself comfortable here, rifling through her cabinets with his cowl down and taking a nap on her truly exquisite couch. She likes that he likes the couch, for some reason. The thought makes her sit up straight and take a long swig of her coffee. The coffee is watery, not at all as strong as she’d like it, but it’s still nice. She cradles the mug in between her hands as she speaks again.

“So, Zatanna shut us up before I could finish practicing,” she starts, looking up from her mug resolutely. “Do you think we could try again?”

Wally nods and puts down his mug. “I’m all ears.”

Artemis exhales softly before she starts over. “The abridged version is that my mom, Huntress, got sent to Lockhaven and my sister, Jade, started to tag along with my dad on his jobs. Jade was a natural at it. That kind of life suited her, obviously.”

“One night, my dad came home without her. He said Jade had made a mistake and gotten herself killed for it.” Artemis snorts, restlessly tapping her fingers against her mug. “I should’ve known that was a lie. Jade never made mistakes. I should’ve known.”

“Dad started training me after that. I had to be better than Jade, but I couldn’t– that wasn’t me,” Artemis says, her mind flipping through the harsh memories of early training days and late night crime sprees.

“I ran into Zatanna during a stakeout, and when she asked me what I was doing on top of the museum, I literally couldn’t stop myself from telling her the truth. She cast a spell on me,” Artemis says quickly before she stops tapping her fingers, looks to the bedroom door, and softens her expression. “We’ve been friends ever since.”

“Uh-huh,” Wally says, entirely for Artemis’s benefit, as his level of actual understanding could be qualified as so-so, tops.

“When I was seventeen, my dad started to suspect I was throwing fights and trying to get him caught. And, well, I was, but I didn’t want him to know that. It wasn’t pretty when he confronted me about it. After that, he said I had to get my act together or I’d end up just like Jade.”

Artemis watches Wally’s eyebrows pinch, a subtle movement made plain by the pure amount of effort he’s putting into keeping a straight face.

“When I told Zatanna about what he’d said, we came up with a plan, she made me the glamour charm, and everything kind of spiraled out of control from there. I set up a fake job to ruin. With a little acting and a lot of magic, we convinced him I was dead and that was the end of it. If Artemis was dead, he wouldn’t come after me. I wouldn’t have to claim him. I wouldn’t have to worry about people doubting me as a hero.”

“When I look back at it, I see there were several, less-severe solutions to my problem, but Zee and I were scared and under no adult supervision so we went straight for the nuclear option,” Artemis laughs humorlessly. “After we did it, I visited my mom and told her the truth. She still had a year left in Lockhaven, but she– she supported my decision. I think she only did it because Jade was dead. I lived with Zatanna until she joined the League, and then I got my own offer. Dream come true, really. I had to tell Batman the truth, and Black Canary knows, and Green Arrow knows, but besides them and my mom, no one else knew before today.”

Artemis crosses her arms and nods, mostly to herself, as she says, “That’s it.”

“Of all the reasons you’d have a glamour charm, I never would have guessed it being what you just said,” Wally says, exhaling softly. “I really thought you were just Nightwinging to the extreme.”

Artemis can’t help but snort. “Does Nightwing know you’ve adjectivized his name?”

Wally smiles. “Not yet. Should I tell him soon?”

“I don’t know. He might think you’re treading into his territory,” Artemis warns, unfolding her arms to grab her mug once more.

Wally rolls his eyes. “Pfft, he doesn’t have a monopoly on wordsmithing.”

They share a light look as they take sips from their mugs and ease back into the heavier half of the conversation before them.

“Hey, uh, Artemis?” Wally asks, placing his coffee mug down on the countertop.

Artemis looks up from her mug. “Yeah?”

Wally leans against the countertop and looks her in the eyes. Even in the low lighting, she can make out the faint freckles spanning the edges of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t have to worry about people doubting you. You’re, uh, one of us. Have been for awhile. You’re– I mean, the numbers don’t lie. You’re a great hero and–” Wally takes a breath. “Look, what I’m trying to say is this: if you decide to tell the League, the only thing that’ll change for us is your name, and your face, and your hair. But who you are will be the same. That’s all that matters.”

“Thanks,” slips out before Artemis can put more words together to express how much she really means it.

Wally smiles. “And, if your dad does find out, he’s going to have to fight a whole lot of people before he gets to you.”

Artemis smiles as she leans in to take another sip of her coffee. “Well, what do you know? Flash and substance.”

Wally laughs into his mug.

Artemis’s nose wrinkles as she nears the end of her drink. “And sub-par coffee making skills. I’ll make the next pot so you can see what real coffee tastes like.”

“Everything’s a competition with you, isn’t it?”

-o-

No one asks any questions when Flash and Zatanna return to the Watchtower that morning with a blonder, darker Tigress. They don’t have time to ask, really, because Tigress takes off her mask and explains it all the same way she did to Flash (albeit a bit more coherently). When Nightwing tries to break the tension by asking who won the point for the mission, Flash makes a show of lamenting the result and calling it a tie.  

-o- 

TBC...

[trumpetnista]

CMW2/Trumpetnista: True North

Summary from FFN: CANON COMPLIANT AU WITH HEAVY SPOILERS FOR THE END OF SEASON 4 AND THE FIRST EPS OF 5; After the events of 'Not You, Too', Bruce is ecstatic that Selina is alive but he is about to truly lose it. Being the True North of his life, Selina enlists the one person who loves him more than her to help him escape Gotham's ruins.;Rated for words & imagery;4th in my 2019 SSS Project

Words from the Hooded GOTHAMITE: Your eyes are not deceiving you, folks. It's a double header! I'm really gonna knuckle down and update/finish at least one of my established stories in another fandom after this one, I promise but again, what the Muses want, they get. If I don't cooperate with them, they go away for ages. They really want Bruce and Selina right now. It is what it is.

Selina and Alfred's bond is one of my favorite on the show. I've always loved a good 'started from the bottom, now we're here' plotline and I'm glad that they've united. Other than Jim, they're all Bruce has so it's best that they get along. They've gone from enemies to frenemies to family and I really, really hope that the BatFamily can become some kind of an official thing in GOTHAM's endgame. If not, that's what fanfic is for.

Again, I just want everyone to be happy. Is that too much to ask?

Anyway, here's the follow up to 'Not You, Too' and after I do the aforementioned updating/finishing in my other fandoms, I will get started on my next big Baby BatCat fics. There is a need and I will fulfill it!

Disclaimer: “Honestly, it’s not mine!”

"I once said that the only reason he wanted to be with me was because I was literally the only girl he knew. That myth is just busted all to pieces now, ain't it?"

"Completely. You're the love of his life."

"He's a masochist. And I'm an idiot because I love him back. One of those Tangs for me?"

"Yes."

"Any vodka in it?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Don't worry. I'll swipe some Goose from Barbara later. I gotta go see Tabby. Pay my respects."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Selina."

"Are you?"

"You cared for her."

"She tried to kill Bruce. Like really, really tried."

"Everyone has."

Laughing still hurt like hell but Selina Kyle couldn't help but do so. It wasn't like Alfred Pennyworth was wrong. Every maniac worth their salt in Gotham took a crack at Bruce Wayne at least once before their temper tantrum was done. That was what he got for being an overly noble piece of shit like Jim Gordon. Not to say that Gordon wasn't a good man (not that she'd ever tell him so to his face) but to model one's life choices after him really wasn't the best idea. It led to so much trouble.

Hopping down from the roof's ledge aggravated her injuries but Selina welcomed the pain. She welcomed the fact that she could climb and jump again. Even when she had nothing, even when she was all alone, she had been able to move. She had been able to run, jump and be free. Jeremiah Valeska had taken that away from her. He had shot her, nearly ruined her, but fate in the form of Bruce had intervened. He had gone out and found a Cure for her. He had risked becoming a living garden from Ivy Pepper Version 3′s venom for her. He had saved her and in turn, she would do her best to save him.

Eventually, she wouldn't be able to. It went back to him being an overly noble piece of shit but damn it, she would try. Bruce didn't get to die on her, not for a long time.

"How are you feeling?"

"I look the way I feel, Lurch."

"So, like a walking piece of roadkill?"

"Fuck off."

And it was very clear that Selina could not die on him. It wasn't an option. Jeremiah Valeska and his crazy girlfriend bitch had tried to kill her. They had damned near blown her up but she had made it out. She had managed to get out of her restraints and had been in the process of climbing out of a window when the explosives went off. That had sent her flying and while there was a bit of a blank, she remembered the feeling of weightlessness, the impact with the truck, and more importantly, the feeling of needing to get home.

Home was Bruce. Whether they were in Wayne Manor, The Haven, or anywhere, Bruce was home. She needed to get her ass up, pull herself together enough to function, and get home. If Valeska went after her, it stood to reason that he was going to go the whole nine yards. Her, Gordon, Alfred, anyone positive in Bruce's life had a bulls-eye on them again. Valeska wanted to break him. He wanted to convert him to his special brand of madness and the circus freak probably wanted his body, too. Bruce was damned fine to look at, like one of those angels in museum paintings. He had been adorable before but puberty had been very good to him.

However, the only person who would be touching the art was her.

Even if Jeremiah wasn't crazier than the cow that jumped over the moon and blew it up, the age difference was not good. Jeremiah was in his mid-twenties. Bruce may be 40 years old in the head but he had just turned 18. Jeremiah's Evil Twin Jerome, may he forever rot and burn in Hell, had ruined his birthday party when he took over that concert with exploding neck bombs.

The cake had been damned good, though. God, Selina missed cake so much. It was still possible to find the ingredients or a done one but it was more trouble than it was worth. The energy would be put to better use finding medicine or ammo.

Anyway, it had taken some time but she had gotten to the Twelfth Precinct, only to find a broken Bruce Wayne. He had thought she had been murdered. Jeremiah had said she was dead and instead of breaking in the way the freak longed for, Bruce had beaten him to death with a chair.

Jeremiah Valeska was very much dead.

Selina had demanded to see the body, just to make sure he was gone, and it had been a mess. Absolutely justified but a mess, all the same. Jeremiah's girlfriend had been catatonic but when three unfortunate saps tried to transport her to Arkham, she had murdered them and ran. Word was that she The Dark Zone's leader now and she would 'continue her beloved's legacy' or some other nonsense like that. As long as the demented bitch left Bruce the hell alone, Selina didn't care.

She would never forget the way he looked when Bruce came out of Gordon's office.

He looked as if his whole world had been destroyed but reborn in front of his eyes. The wild look in his eyes, the way he was shaking? It was the warehouse with Scarecrow's Terror Gas all over again, only a thousand times worse. All Selina could do was touch him, tell him to breathe, tell him to look at her but he hadn't got it. It had taken seconds for him to get it but it had felt like hours. Seeing him like that? God, if the motherfucker wasn't already dead, Selina would've gone after him. He already had a target on him for the bullet to her spine but hurting Bruce, breaking Bruce...

The hug he had given her had been so painful but she didn't dare pull away, not until she was sure that he was back. The anguish and relief in his voice as he cried in her arms, even as he responded to her would haunt her forever.

It also put a very heavy responsibility on her.

She had to stay alive.

She had to keep her remaining 7 lives close to her because if she didn't?

"...Selina? Are you up here?"

"Hey, B. You want some Tang? There's no vodka in it but it's still pretty good."

"No, thank you. I...I woke up and you were gone."

"Sorry. I needed some air and you needed the sleep. I didn't mean to scare you. C'mere."

Bruce came to her and hugged her, hiding his face in her shoulder. It had been 2 days since her supposed demise and Selina knew that he would cling for quite a while. Afterwards, he would be even more protective of her and she had to get ready to deal with it. Not just from Bruce but from everyone. Even though Valeska was gone, eliminating one of Gotham's biggest problems, she and everyone else was far from safe. The government was still doing its best to avoid helping them, meaning that the city would continue to fall apart. Eventually, even the good people would start turning on each other for the sake of survival and then, where would they be?

"You two weren't fighting, were you?"

"Nah. Truce is still on."

"Good."

"You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I didn't ask if you were. You need to eat. I found a bunch of MREs and water. There's enough."

"Selina..."

"Look, I get it. You thought I was dead, went full on WrestleMania on Valeska, found out I wasn't dead, and had the panic attack to end all of them. You're stressed out. You're feeling guilty for caving that asshole's head in, which you really shouldn't, by the way, you're still sad because the city's fucked but let me tell you something: I'm still here. We're getting by as best we can until we can get outside help. Valeska had it coming to him and all not taking care of yourself is gonna do is make Alfred worry about you and piss me off. Do you wanna do that?"

"...no."

"You need to eat. And you need to sleep some more. I'll come down in a few minutes. I gotta bandage and ice my ribs, anyways. Eat. Talk to Gordon and get some damned sunlight, will you? You look even more like a vampire than usual."

Bruce let out a noise that was between a scoff and a laugh before looking between them.

"Anything to add, Alfred?"

"No, I think she covered things nicely."

"I don't know if I like this. You two ganging up on me..."

"Somebody has take the L. It might as well be us. Are you still here?"

"I'm going, I'm going..."

"Wait."

Stepping forward, Selina pulled him down into a tender kiss and pecked his forehead.

"Now, scram. Grab me some chili mac and a vanilla pudding."

Bruce looked at her fixedly, nodded, and headed for the staircase. He hesitated in the doorway and when he turned around, Selina gave him a tired but genuine smile. Relief visibly filled him at the sight and he was gone. Shaking her head, she let out a noise that was half sigh and half sob.

"For fuck's sake...Alfred, we've got to get him outta here. Enough is enough. I don't...he has been on the edge of the worst nervous breakdown ever since it all went down with his parents and now this shit, on top of all the other shit? We gotta get him the hell out of here, government bullshit be damned!"

"Agreed. How?"

"I dunno. I was hoping that you had an idea. All that gray hair. There ought to be some wisdom underneath it..."

"This gray hair used to be blonde."

"Oh Christ...don't tell me you were walking around looking like one of the bastards from The Bee Gees back in the day..."

"Okay, I won't."

"Ewww...I wanna see pics but ewww..."

"...we're all he's got. Us and Gordon and he won't leave."

"Gordon will help us get him out, though. Him, Bullock, and Foxy. Maybe even Barbara. She's always had a soft spot for him from back in the day. If not, she'll do it for me...or Gordon. Gross."

"Problem is that Bruce may refuse to leave. He sees Gotham as his responsibility."

"I'll change his mind about that."

"I don't think you're in enough good physical condition to do that, yet."

"First of all, where there's a will, there's a way. Secondly, you need to mind your business, Jack. I know you're his Guardian and I guess mine now but there are boundaries..."

"Apologies."

"...and third, I don't think getting him to bounce will be as hard as you think. He doesn't want to lose anyone else he loves to what's left of this place. That's us. If we get out, he'll get out. Of course, he'll come back here to help as soon as possible because he's an overly noble piece of shit..."

"He's our overly noble piece of shit."

"...I know but...if we stick together, we can pull it off. Truce is still on."

"For Bruce."

"For Bruce."

[amandajoyce118]

Black Panther Easter Eggs And References

Instead of doing a Six Sentence Sunday this week, I thought I’d finally get around to writing up and sharing some Easter eggs and references from Black Panther. I’ve now seen the movie twice, so I think I’ve got a fair amount, but I’m also sure there are going to be things I missed.

If you haven’t yet seen this movie, there are spoilers in my list! So. Many. Spoilers. You have been warned.

I’m not going to give you everyone’s comic book history and what’s been changed for each character for the movie, but what I will say is that I think this is one of the few MCU movies where every single named character exists in the comics, which is pretty fantastic.

The Marvel Comic flip.

Before the Marvel characters and logo appear on screen, the studio still uses the flipping comic book pages to give you a little nod to their history. Usually, the images are the same for the MCU with the Avengers you see across Phase 1. This time, if you blink you might miss it, there’s a Black Panther symbol in those pages.

The history of Wakanda.

The movie’s opening has a father telling his son (you might have that it was T’Challa getting the story when the movie first opened, but that’s definitely Erik being told the story by his father) the story of vibranium landing in the middle of Africa, tribes separating, and Wakanda being built around the vibranium mound. He also details the lineage of Black Panthers. All that is almost exactly out of the comics. The MCU often changes bits and pieces of the story, like it does for T’Challa’s father dying when he’s an adult instead of a boy, but this stunning set up is almost exactly the same.

Oakland, 1992.

Oakland happened to be where director Ryan Coogler grew up and it’s also where the Black Panther political movement was born in the 60s - shortly after the comic book character made his debut. I’m not sure if 1992 is a significant year for him because it’s not for Black Panther. The previous comic book series ended in 1991 and another volume wasn’t published until 1998. It was considered a particular “bloody” year by local papers though. There were 167 known murders that occurred in Oakland that year, which apparently was a record at the time. Since that’s particularly dark, let’s also note that the Oakland Athletics (that’s baseball, folks), finished first in the American League West that year. (When the movie returns to Oakland at the end, that’s also a nod to Coogler’s real life dream: to be able to give back to the community that raised him. T’Challa puts a Wakandan Outreach program in place. Coogler spoke in some of his very first interviews about wanting to bring his movies to Oakland, to film there, to generate revenue for the city, to work with kids that live there in arts programs.)

Public Enemy.

One of the posters on the wall of the Oakland apartment is for Public Enemy, which seems appropriate for a guy in 90s Oakland who wants to bring power back to his people.

The MCU timeline.

The movie references it being a week since the UN conference and T’Chaka’s death, so it’s set right after the events of Captain America: Civil War, putting it right before Spider-Man: Homecoming and Doctor Strange, but also possible happening during the last few episodes of Agents of SHIELD’s third season. So, don’t expect a crossover there.

Killmonger’s mask.

In addition to being inspired by real life ceremonial masks worn by the Igbo, the mask also draws on comic book inspiration. Killmonger wears a mask very similar to the one in the movie during his first confrontation with T’Challa in the comics.

Killmonger’s girlfriend.

So, this might not have been intentional, and this might not even really be an Easter egg, but one relationship long time comic book readers will remember is that of Killmonger and Madam Slay. Madam Slay had trained leopards (and we do see leopard-like spots in Killmonger’s costume later), and she was his right hand for a few issues when Black Panther stories were being told as part of Jungle Action comics. She had a thing for knives and wanted to help Killmonger kill T’Challa. Of course, she was also Wakandan, so maybe the woman seen in the movie isn’t her.

Klaue’s arm.

The cannon in Klaue’s arm is inspired by the comic book design. He has a “sonic cannon” in his arm in the comics, which gets something of a shoutout when he says it’s sonic mining equipment that was used to give him the arm in the movie.

Shuri’s buns.

When T’Challa meets his family off the plane, Shuri’s hair is in a couple of buns. That’s your Star Wars reference as it was meant as an homage to another princess in a galaxy far, far, away. Letitia Wright confirmed the nod in an interview.

“What are thoooose?”

I hear this is a nod to a famous vine. LOL Okay, I have to admit that I was never into vine, but everyone in the theater under 30 found this hilarious. I found it more adorable that Shuri bases her shoe design on Back to the Future. But hey, we all find different things funny.

Mount Bashenga.

Shuri’s lab is inside a mountain named for the first known king of Wakanda that becomes Black Panther. He’s even named in the opening sequence of a bed time story.

M’Baku makes a move toward Shuri.

During the challenge, as M’Baku talks about the things he disagrees with in Wakanda, one of them is “a child” being in charge of the technology. In the comics, M’Baku specifically wants to get rid of all of the futuristic tech in Wakanda. He also, at one point, kidnaps Shuri. So, that brief moment struck me as a nod to that.

So, I’ll also note here that M’Baku is a big departure from the comics, but a lot of things were kept to provide a nod to the source material. Like Nakia calling him the “Great Gorilla” when she meets him because the villain name Man-Ape is pretty racist, no? Her term is more a sign of respect. The skin he wears over his shoulders? A nod to him killing a White Gorilla in the comics in a ritual that gives him the strength and stamina of the animal.

(Also, side note: the movie cut, but set design kept, the Jabari tribe loving the wood from a sacred tree in the mountains and using that to build their homes with. It’s in direct contrast with the high tech Vibranium. Winston Duke also worked with a dialect coach so his rhythms would be closer to different Nigerian dialects instead of South African dialects to differentiate himself from the rest of the main cast, setting the Jabari apart from the rest of Wakanda. It was also his idea to do the barking/grunting sounds as a nod to the comic book source material, but to give the Jabari a way to make an entrance and shut people up.

Okoye complains about that wig.

Honestly, this only struck me because Danai Gurira has to wear a massive wig for her role as Michonne on The Walking Dead. I know she’s spoken at length about loving that role, but I immediately thought her character’s hatred for wigs was a nod to the fact that she spends so much of the year in one.

The Pan African flag.

The stripes of the Pan African flag are green, black, and red, so when Nakia, T’Challa, and Okoye walk into the underground gambling ring in Korea and stand at the guardrail, you’re seeing that flag brought to life. (And for those who think that’s reaching for symbolism, Ryan Coogler confirmed in an interview that was the intention of the costuming decisions in that scene.)

Stan Lee’s cameo.

We all recognize Stan Lee by now, but in case you missed him, he’s one of the gamblers. He talks to Agent Ross and takes T’Challa’s winnings when he leaves them behind.

“Every breath you take is mercy from me.”

T’Challa says this line to Klaue in the movie, but in the comics, he said it to someone else. He said it to Namor following the arrival of Thanos in Wakanda. T’Challa and Namor have a complicated frenemy-ship, we’ll say. I kind of hope Namor (since the rights are back with Marvel) gets to make his debut in a Black Panther movie.

Vibranium from Sokovia.

When Agent Ross and T’Challa chat in the casino, Ross mentions the guy he’s dealing with also having been traced to the events in Sokovia. So, just in case you needed another big flashing sign for an MCU connection, there you go.

The story of El Dorado.

Klaue tells the story of a Golden City, and how people searched for it in South America. In addition to trying the movie to the legend of El Dorado, it’s also a nod to the capital city of Wakanda in the comics, called the Golden City. It’s where the royal family lives and where most of the activity takes place in the comics.

Another broken white boy.

When Shuri makes the comment that there’s another broken white boy for them to fix (after the CIA agent is brought in to have his spine repaired), I actually didn’t think about the fact that Bucky Barnes was cryogenically frozen in Wakanda for safe keeping, though I’m sure plenty others did, but of Hunter, T’Challa and Shuri’s adopted brother. T’Chaka saved the boy after his parents died in a plane crash over Wakanda and raised them with his children. Hunter grew to be jealous of T’Challa and the leader of the War Dogs. He was a sometimes enemy of his adopted brother. Of course, the post-credit scene makes it clear that Bucky is standing in for Hunter since the kids even call him by Hunter’s comic book name, “White Wolf,” even if the timeline doesn’t quite add up.

The influence of African cultures.

Yes, Black Panther is a comic book movie, but Black Panther also takes a whole lot of inspiration from different African cultures. For example, the Dora Milaje are inspired by the Dahomey Amazons, an all female military group that essentially died out after the mid twentieth century. The costuming, the body modification, the language, and even the hairstyles in the movie are all rooted in different African cultures. This twitter thread does an amazing job at explaining so much of what you see in the movie.

It’s also worth noting that you won’t see a Wakandan character in the movie with relaxed hair. Why? The country was never colonized. I believe it was Lupita Nyong'o who explained in interviews that the idea of relaxing kinky hair was brought about by colonizers shaming Africans for their looks. Because Wakanda has never been colonized, the residents have pride in something as simple as natural hair.

War Dog assignments.

The “War Dogs” are referenced several times, but outside of Nakia being called a spy, there’s not a whole of information about them. So, the term War Dog is actually in reference to the Hatut Zeraze, which are the “secret police” in Wakanda in the comics. T’Challa actually disbands them when he becomes King because he doesn’t like the idea of sending out people to assassinate others around the world, which is one of their jobs. The movie appears to have made them literal spies instead of assassins.

Shuri’s gauntlets.

I’m sure a lot of people noticed that she built her gauntlets to resemble the heads of panthers. While that’s obviously a nod to the Black Panther being Wakanda’s hero, it’s likely also a nod to Shuri becoming the Black Panther in the comics. She takes her brother’s place when he’s gravely ill and she also becomes the Queen her country needs.

Over the waterfall.

The moment where Killmonger tosses T’Challa over the edge of the cliff? Taken exactly from the comics. T’Challa survives that fall as well, though he doesn’t get help from M’Baku in the comics since they were enemies as well there.

War Dog cities.

When Killmonger and W’Kabi discuss which War Dogs have responded to his plans to take over the world, they are in very specific cities. New York, London, and Hong Kong are mentioned. Those also happen to be the cities that house Sanctum Santorums in the Doctor Strange movie, which means they’re hot spots for magic, lines between realms, etc. (Though this could be a coincidence as they’re also well known and well populated cities that world wide audiences would recognize.)

Killmonger’s Black Panther suit.

I already mentions that he gets leopard-like spots on it, which could serve as a nod to Madam Slay’s leopards, but there’s more. Black Leopard was the name used for Black Panther briefly in the comics to distance the character from any politics. Killmonger also had a sidekick in the form of a leopard he called Preyy. The gold tones in his costume - and particularly the look of the necklace - are a direct callback to what the actual Black Panther suit most often looks like in the comics as well.

T’Challa wrestles a rhino.

The scene where Black Panther takes down a rhino? Pretty much exactly out of the comics. In his very first comic book run in Jungle Action comics - the run is actually called Marvel’s first graphic novel - he had to wrestle a rhino to the ground in the same way.

Alex R. Hibbert.

The young actor, famous now for his role in Moonlight, gets a cameo at the end of the movie as the little boy who chats with T’Challa about his ship. Ryan Coogler is a big fan of Moonlight and has said that the director actual gave him a lot of support in his career. Hibbert gets the last official line in the movie, though there is a mid credits scene and a post credits scene.

[aion-rsa]

Rick and Morty Season 5 Episode 6 Review: Rick & Morty’s Thanksploitation Spectacular

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This RICK AND MORTY review contains spoilers.

Rick and Morty Season 5 Episode 6

Happy Thanksgiving, for some reason! This is another episode that brings back one of Rick’s recurring frenemies, the President of the United States as played by Keith David, to deal with a world-ending catastrophe the two caused themselves in a display of sci-fi power dick-measuring. Keith David has an awesome voice, so it’s always nice to hear him reprising this role and he gets so much to do here that it’s really more like an episode of Rick and Morty and the President. However, it’d probably be even more of a treat if he hadn’t popped up just two episodes ago.

Furthermore, “Rick & Morty’s Thanksploitation Spectacular” feels less novel because, like “Rickdependence Spray” before it, this is an episode about a big, stupid, world (or at least country)-ending spectacle. It’s different in that it was giant sperms threatening humanity in “Rickdependence Spray” and this time it’s turkey super-soldiers, but both episodes still have a very similar progression of taking a really dumb central conceit and ballooning it out into increasingly crazier, violent, action sci-fi set pieces. Both episodes even have a similar reveal of something that was referenced in passing early in the episode showing up to save the day in the third act—the Chuds in “Rickdependence Spray” and in this one it’s some Pilgrim and alien robots, or some such nonsense.

This episode does have an edge over the sperm-driven one in that it’s not quite so stunningly stupid. The sperm episode seemed to awaken in the Rick and Morty team their most base humor instincts, which resulted in a lot of cheap jokes and an overall too-stupid plot that culminated in the creation of a giant incest baby… yeesh. This one’s still very deliberately stupid as hell, but it doesn’t feel quite so braindead. I can’t say I’m in love with the direction the plot takes when it brings in the Pilgrim robots but the jokes are certainly better.

Read more

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In fact, this might be the funniest Rick and Morty of season five so far. Morty quipping “How’s this for a fireside chat?” as he burns FDR is good. I also like his repeated “Aww, they love each other.” The Turkey President ripping out his own wishbone and wishing to explode is hilariously stupid. I didn’t laugh out loud at it but the premise that the Statue of Liberty is a trojan horse French assassin is clever. And my favorite joke of the episode was the reveal that the release of every new iteration of Playstation has been a milestone in the President’s life.

That said, being the funniest episode isn’t exactly an incredible feat in a season so far full of episodes that only get a few chuckles out of me. I was hardly laughing my ass off with “Thankspolitation Spectacular,” but I’d say it wrenched something like three to four more chuckles than usual out of my cold, unfeeling carcass, so that’s nice. Still, for the most part, the humor is like it’s been for all of season five: jokes crammed into nearly every moment, but the quality of them is somehow lacking and they just become part of the noise of an already noisy episode.

The problem of jokes not landing may be tied, at least in part, to the lack of characterization. Co-creator Dan Harmon once remarked that one of the best scenes in his previous series, Community, was funny because even when the lines weren’t written to be jokes, they were “lines that are incredibly funny because you love the characters.” Last week’s Rick and Morty (while, admittedly, still not that funny) was the best episode of season five yet because it remembered to slow down and make time for some pleasant character moments. “Rick & Morty’s Thanksploitation Spectacular,” despite having a basically well-constructed plot (though I still don’t know how I feel about this Pilgrim and alien robot bullshit) and better jokes than season five has been averaging, is still an episode that aggressively avoids character moments. Morty, Rick, and the President exist just to move the sci-fi bombast along and occasionally snark at one another.

Therefore, as with a lot of newer Rick and Morty episodes, I admire the effort, both from the writers and the artists, that went into piecing together a complex storyline this stuffed (like a turkey, get it?) with crazy sci-fi spectacle. And I acknowledge there are a lot of great performances from the actors—Keith David notably gets to shine in two major roles here. However, the characters were almost nonexistent, which unfortunately makes this another overall so-so season five episode.

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See you next week for the episode you all already watched! Tsk, tsk!

The post Rick and Morty Season 5 Episode 6 Review: Rick & Morty’s Thanksploitation Spectacular appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[fathomintoxconstellations]

{ALEXANDRA DADDARIO, FEMALE, SHE/HER ) ⌇ have you seen MADISON “MADI” MONTGOMERY around icaria? they are the 30 year old child of ATHENA. they remind me of endearing rambles, worn-out sneakers, and clenched fists. They’ve been on the island for 2 months.

basics:

Full Name: Madison Jane Montgomery

Nickname: Madi

Parents: Carter Abbott & Athena

D.O.B.: December 20th

Age: 30

Profession: Bartender at Night Shade/Popular Murder Mystery Novelist

Spoken Languages: English & Greek fluently (But, knows a handful of other phrases/bits and pieces from other languages)

Abilities: Telepathy & Mimicry (still learning control)

bio:

Tw: Abuse, Rape

Carter Abbott was a stubborn man, but a smart man. Like his dad before him he studied history and believed if you wanted to change the future you had to look in the past. Carter was on his way to his friends house when he was stopped by a woman. She was striking and brutal all at the same time. They were only supposed to spend one night. He honestly forgot or at least he would have told everyone he forgot about that woman he had that one night stand with. Until he saw her again this time she had a child with her. He asked her who the baby was and she simply handed the boy over and smiled. She told him who she was and told him to name the baby after a great man since that’s what their son was going to be. But, they didn’t just have a son. A few years later, Carter ended up finding himself face to face with the striking goddess once more. This time, she bore a daughter to whom he named Madison after James Madison.

Raising Link and Madi was far from an easy feat. Link always seemed to know exactly what he was going to say or do and when Link argued back, Madi was right there with him. The ornery little girl edging her big brother, who she looked up to more than anyone in the world, on. Madi was a bright girl full of life. She rarely ever sat still, always running around with this infectious smile. She was playful and yet endearing. A breath of fresh air and, while Link always had witty and quick retorts, Madi was one to ramble on and on.

They had a happy and rambunctious family. But, their little trio didn’t last. Their father delved deeper and deeper into his research, being consumed by his obsession with the past and when Madi was only 12 years old, their father went on a research trip and never returned. They wanted to go look for him, but they were denied and they never were able to figure out what happened to him. 

Their father’s passion was history, Link’s passion was money and finance, and Madi? Madi had always felt a bit lost. She was a curious child in nature, quick to jump from one skill to the next.  But, she never had that one thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life. She changed her major far too many times and even took a gap year to travel the world, before finally settling with Criminology. She figured she could apply for the CIA when she graduated or go into Forensic Analysis- do something that made a difference and hopefully allowed her to continue to travel. But, life had other plans. 

Madi met Alek during her Senior Year. He was a magnanimous person who didn’t give her much of a choice not to be drawn to him. He was charming, funny, devious, and manipulative. He had a youthfulness about him that bordered on immaturity. At first, Mads wasn’t interested. She wasn’t swayed by his good looks or sweet words. But, In the midst of his flirty lines, they became friends. Alek made her laugh, made her feel special and made her feel worth while. She had misgivings about whether or not he was the one, but she enjoyed how much he coveted her and, as much as it pains her to admit, she had needed someone to rely on at the time. She had just developed the gift of telepathy. Her brain flooded with the overwhelming thoughts of others to the point where it was painful to even think. It quickly became easy, convenient even, for him to ostracize her from others and be her rock. So, when Alek proposed, it wasn’t even a question whether or not she’d say yes.

Link warned her about Alek. He had a premonition that her husband would cheat on her. But, Link saw all future possibilities and neither of them knew which ones would come true or at least that’s what she convinced herself of. Madi convinced herself that she loved the man she married and that she was going to make it work. The violence escalated about as quickly as their relationship did, but she stayed with him. Madi had once been fairly strong willed. She’d even shove bullies down if they tried to pick on one of her classmates. Madi had always defended the underdog, but when it came to defending herself, she fell short. His apologies were heartfelt and affective in getting them back to sanity and a semblance of a loving relationship. That was until his fists would collide against her skin once more or he’d pin her down against the bed and force himself upon her and the cycle would start all over again. 

She should have gotten out a lot sooner than she did. But, the straw that broke the camal’s back wasn’t from any of the violence or abuse. It wasn’t even the time he inevitably caused her to miscarriage. Nope. The thing that did it was when she read his mind and discovered that the man who had always felt so much guilt and sympathy after everything he had done to her was cheating on her. 

In an instant, it felt like a switch had flipped. She packed up as much as she could into one bag, while he was at work, and hopped in a taxi and headed to the first bar she could find. That night she ended up falling in bed with a complete stranger. But, even though she didn’t know the woman laying beside her, she couldn’t help, but feel like whatever her life held for her would be better.

Madi rarely talks about what happened with her failed marriage, moving to Icaria where her brother has been living and working to discover the bright girl she used to be once more. 

wanted connections:

Family:

Biological Brother: Link

Half-Siblings: Kennedy (Bond over Criminology Backgrounds) & Viv (friends who drifted apart later discovered half-sibs)

Ex-Sister in Law/Act like Sisters- Mara

Cousin- Phoebe

Acts like a Big Brother- Jack

Work: 

Fans of her Murder Mystery Fiction Novels- Mari’s Dad; 

Fans of Trash Romance Novels that she used to Ghost Write- Eve;

Boss- Ivy

Patrons/Co-Workers at Night Shade

Person to try out new cocktails on

Friendships:

Best Male Friend

Best Female Friend- Delilah (grew up in NY together); 

Friends from NY- Wolfgang; Raye,

Friends - Lachlan; Lisa;

Ex-Wives Club- Harper (met at a Divorcee Event); 

Little rays of sunshine who get high on occasion- Gianna

Role Model/Dysfunctional Role Model 

A couple of goofballs - Caelan, Harley

Someone who brings out the best in her

Someone who brings out the worst in her

Workout Buddy/Sparring Partner

Partner in Not So Crime- Deacon

Friends from College

Friends from High School

Childhood Best Friend- 

Family Friends-

Phone a Friend (Goes to/calls her whenever they’re in trouble/vice a versa)

Old Roommates

Roommates

Couch Surfer (Someone who used to let her crash on their couch from time to time)

One Sided Friendship

Break into Showtunes/Disney Buddies

Karaoke Partners

Frenemies (Act super nice, but actually don’t get along/like each other)

Bickering Frenemies (Act like they hate each other, but really love the hell out of each other)

Friends who had a falling out

Friends who grew apart

Someone who takes her under their wing

Someone who she takes under her wing

Mom Friend - Nelly

Dad Friend

Someone who brings out the more serious side of her

A friend who is lying to her

A friend who she is lying to

Toxic Friendship

Rivals

Acquaintances (Have always been aware of the other person’s existence, but for some reason have never grown close)

Stumbled upon each other in either an awkward or personal moment and now have trouble looking each other in the eyes

Wingwoman (Someone she’s a wingwoman for)

Wingman/Wingwoman for Her

Fake friend

Fake staker (someone who teases her about stalking them, but actually enjoys their company)

Breakfast Club (Someone she met once when traveling. They opened up to each other and had a breakfast club-esque relationship for a day/weekend before they parted ways, only to see each other again now) - Anya

Good Influence

Bad Influence 

Someone who helps her gain more control of her abilities

Someone who she helps gain more control of their abilities

Play pranks on one another until someone gets in trouble/hurt

Serendipity (Someone who she consistently runs into again and again over the years; could be friends or acquaintances, but neither can deny, it’s weird that they keep on meeting like this)

Relationships:

Exes who ended on good terms

Exes who ended on bad terms

First time

Old Flame

Past one night stand

FWB - Ulani;

Crush

Ex Crush turned Friend

Ex Crush turned Foe

Exes who are now friends, but don’t ever talk about the fact that they dated

Unrequited love

First boyfriend

First girlfriend

Kindergarten couple

Hooked up with the night she left her husband- HJ