#i could talk about train culture all the live long day

[nauticaltrain]

your themed slang for stex you did in that one post is really interesting could you elaborate on them?

oof yes i love themed slang so much (og post here)

Train slang is not super complex, merely a blending of regular old human culture, real railroad slang, and their own esoteric references. Most rolling stock have a remarkable skillfulness in the art of arguing, and will talk shit to hell and back. As a result, their vernacular is increasingly creative in an effort to really get their points across.

Some examples (including the ones in that post and some more!)

Dries my crown - a steamer saying, referencing the crown sheet that covers the top of the firebox. The crown must have a layer of water on top of it at all times to prevent damage to boiler, and potential implosion. So, saying that something "dries my crown", means it's really irritating to the point of outrage

Keep your tender on - calm down, relax. Another steamer saying

Blow it out your stack - fuck off and leave me alone. Started as a steamer thing and has gradually shifted over to the diesels as a derogative

Chassis - A chassis is the load bearing framework of rolling stock (and many other pieces of machinery). In the context of train slang, it's vaguely sexual? They're about as anatomically correct as barbie dolls and have a limited understanding of sexuality. But that doesn't mean the counterfeit replication of the human mind that makes up the rolling stock psyche can't catcall and talk dirty!

Pumps my pistons - see above

Get out of my cab and it's variations - stop micromanaging me!

Tarblood/coaleater/crummy/hog/scrap/tea kettle/etc. - slurs and name calling. Trains love to insult each other

Rumble - a human term that was co-opted by the rolling stock. Someone is gonna throw down and it's gonna be a big event, let's go watch two idiots beat each other up. Usually references altercations between engines

Less than a hundred miles under you - you're a newbie, you don't have a lot of experience

Wheelslip - In real railroading, wheelslip is a phenomenon where if too much force is applied to the wheels and there is not enough friction, the wheels will turn without there being movement of the train. In train slang, it's the equivalent of saying "butterfingers" when someone drops something or "you good?" when someone trips

Ticking over - not really slang, but more of cultural thing. On a real engine, ticking over is idling. In the musical, tickovers are the set of movements each character does when they're not doing anything specific (Rusty's little arm rotations, CB's salute, Greaseball combing back his hair). In the context of my weird psychological automaton au, it's a visual representation of them processing information. Train stimming, basically.

Oh also, they have a non-verbal sub-language in train form (if one subscribes to the transformers-esque headcanon), which includes brake clenching, whistle/horn variations, metal creaks, and light signals!

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

��It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment wasn't that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm.

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.

[grimdarling69]

Another de aged Ellie and Dan or otherwise known as Crack

P1 P2 P3

Damian is now regretting every decision that led to where he was at this point in his half-life.

He felt so if he had been battered by a storm all night long and he was pretty sure he was having fever dreams because fucking Lex Luthor is currently dabbing at his head with a damp towel.

Come on, Damian. You're better than this. Get up and fight him. Father would be disappointed if I failed to stop whatever luthor was scheming because of a common cold. He could already see his father's face, his disappointment shrouded in the shadows created by the looming stalactites in the cave. He'd take away Robin, he lose Richard's first gift to him. He couldn't let his baba down.

He tried to shed the blankets but his body failed him and he had to resist a coughing fit. He shivered cold and clammy. His body felt heavy and his clothes were sticking to him uncomfortablely. His hair was a mess and clouded his vision.

"Rest now, ghostling. Your very sick. I need to get you into some new clothes and quickly." he murmured quietly, leaning forward and plying his bangs from his face. For a second he thought he was going to kiss his head and he started struggling again.

"Don't-" He attempted but his voice broke off into a coughing fit. He struggled to catch his breath.

"Shh.. shhh...drink." he gently lifted a glass of water with a childishly pinky bendy straw to his lips. His gentle voice and calm actions remindimg him of his baba and he stupidly started to drink it before he remembered where he was and resisted again.

Luthor didn't seem surprised but didn't attempt to speak to him again and gently pushed him back down onto the bed. His eyes were heavy and he had to repeatedly jerk his head to stay awake.

Ancients, what was wrong with him he was a trained assassin. Not to mention Robin he could survive days without even a second of sleep.

Luthor pushed the door open again and carried soft looking sleepwear in his hands. When did he leave? The sleepwear had little stars and moons and suns periodically spread about. He couldn't help but admire them.

"Please don't fight me, Dani- Damian. You have to get out of those drenched clothes. If you sleep in them, you'll just get sicker. Come on, you love the stars." He tried in vain to fight him off, but eventually Luthor was cringing at him, scratches all over his arms and face, holding the wet clothes in one hand.

"Try to get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning." He turned the lights off and closed the door.

He waited a second to make sure he was actually gone. Once he was sure, he tried to wrangle him self off the bed but kept having to blink and rub his eyes. He had finally succeeded in getting out from under the blanket before he couldn't stay awake any longer and passed out from exhaustion.

---------

Vlad because he was Vlad Masters sometimes known as Vlad Plasmius or ugh the Wisconsin Ghost not Lex Luthor he had spent far to long redeeming himself and becoming a productive member of society to be reincarnated into a cruel ceo who cares only about his image and money and destroys the earth to make it. Creating pollution, ruining lives for no reason, abusing his powers, and trying to kill his archnemesis. Okay, maybe he was being a bit hypocritical, but he was redeemed already, and now he had to start all over!

Every villian worth their salt knows that archenemesiss are for life and he was a redeemed one for goodness sake. He may of fought his godson a lot in his early days but he had been alone for so long. He was a ghost they bonded by fighting! He also apologized for not realized that he didn't know ghost culture yet. He assumed he'd gotten a mentor ghost somewhere like he had the dairy king to teach him and once he realized he made him take lessons with that yeti docter of his.

He was the only one of his kind for decades and it certainly didn't help when his best friends abandoned him after killing him. Jasmine loved to physcoanalyze him she often tried to talk to him about his abandonment issues caused by his parents' deaths worsened by his older sister walking out on him and his future almost destroyed because of Jack Fenton and a fucking soda. That his obsession with Madelyn was caused by the fact he was desperate for family and latched onto the first thing that could give him one.

He didn't approve of cursing, he had kids-god-children that didn't need to hear it but he supposed he could excuse it just this once. Or twice.

When his godson had crashed into his island he felt the presence of his other kids but it was diluted almost. He hoped that whenever Damian woke up he could give him some context.

That was another thing. Somehow, his incredibly gifted and smart godson had apparently but reincarnated as Brucie Wayne's son. He could hardly believe it, but it was also worrying he had found some heavy scaring on him. Everywhere he was covered in scars, some had to be a decade old, at least. Whoever hurt his son was going to pay.

"Mr Luthor, sir?" His assistant knocked on his door.

Ugh, Luthor wasn't terrible he had to admit it had a nice ring to it was just-Lex?... disgusting.

"Come in."

"The um...children's cold medicine is here." She spoke unsure, but handed the specially ordered medicine over. It was brought over by a very good drone from the nearest industrialized island, perks of being a billionaire. He had even more money than in his previous life.

"Aw thank you, Susan." She blinked at him while he took the package she'd been with him since before Konner and so it was understandable she wasn't used to him just now caring to remember her name. Konner... he'll have to contact him to set up a meeting between his new son and his brother soon.

"Will you alert the chefs to cook a simple breakfast for us. No onions and no meat. He'll need to eat with this one. Have it brought to his room." He barely remembered that his godson won't be eating meat anymore after he remembered from one chance meeting at a gala but he had always hated onions and he was quite familiar with his rants about the texture of onions by now.

"Yes, sir. Right away" She quickly exited his office. He still wasn't used to humans being on his island, he typically only had animal ghosts with him or his kids if they weren't busy it was quite strange but he was trying to turn down his Vladness.

He stopped to grab a water bottle and started to head to Damian's room. He knocked on the door and waited. Dead silence met him, the white walls of the hallway was only makeing it worse. He forced himself to not think of the past, his whimpers while he had to stitch him together again for if he made to much sound they would hear him , while slowing opening the door.

He was thankfully asleep, and his fever seemed like it was going down. He packed up the damp towel and started to dab his forehead again. His eyes started to stir.

"Vlad?" His now much younger godson questioned looking even younger he seemed small for his age but he was like that in his past life too.

"I'm here." The sigh of relief spoke for itself. Damian stole the hand not currently in use, a familiar reminder that was common practice for them. His eyes closed again. He took the quiet moment to lament on each of his kids.

Jasmine, the oldest, once told him he was her rich and eccentric uncle. She never needed him in the ways her siblings did. She only lived with him on college breaks anyway. She never needed him to pay for her college, she had no shortage of scholarships. While he loved her, they were still distant. And then she was gone.

Dan, he had adopted him in his originak timeline after...an incident. Dan was always difficult in ways his siblings weren't. Dan was most similar to him, he was half of him afterall, and this often caused many different fights between them. Dan being full ghost often lived with Clockwork anyway. He'd always love him but things were always going to be messy between them.

Ellie, his blood daughter and Daniel's clone. The only one that outright considered him her father but she was very independent and he typically only saw her on weekends too busy traveling the world to have a movie night with her dear old dad. He loved her, but they fought alot she always wanted more independence and he just wanted to see his daughter.

Daniel or Damian now had always seemed to need him the most. Sticking around Amity Park even after the GIWs attack. Always asking questions about being a ghost or being an adult really. And even before that he could often find him somewhere in his house after his patrols around Amity he asked him a few times why he came around even before he had redeemed himself and could only ever get " because it's quiet but now you're here so I have to go. See ya fruitloop" and when Damian came to live with him his friends were usually there and sometimes he felt it was more a teenagers clubhouse than a mayoral manor. But he was really the only constant in his life. And in the beginning he was too injured to be alone, floating at the edge of fading away forever, so they were constantly together and they grew closer and as much as Vlad always saw him as a son he doubts Damian sees him as a father. Jack was his father and Madelyn was his mother. He knows that he still sees them as his parents even after everything he was willing to forgive them. He would never admitt it but sometimes he's glad they never came back as ghosts.

And konner...He wasn't really sure about him. He was his son, his clone he created with Superman. While he of course still had Luthors memories, and luthor seemed to love him but he often pushed him aside. He was second to his goal of killing Superman. He would have to work really hard to repair their relationship but first he needed to get to the Infinate Realms.

Soft knocking broke him out of his thoughts. " Come in."

"Sir. Your food has been prepared." Susan pushed in a large cart with 3 tiers. While this life seemed to be all about the pinnacle of opulence, his first was spent majority in bachelorhood, enough said about that.

She parked the cart close to the bed but not enough to be a hindrance. Damians eyes fluttered at the light but stayed still.

Susan looked at Damian in barely hidden concern and he could tell that Susan Darnaby, mother of three boys ranging from the ages of 24 to 15 had strong maternal instincts. Her oldest apparently worked at the Daily Planet and was apparently the main breadwinner of the family after his dad passed away a few years ago from cancer leaving the family in serious medical debt. He might have reread everybody's file and maybe everything he could find on them. The last thing he needed was one of his employees calling cps on him for stealing a child.

"He has already benefited from his rest last night, this medicine will have him in tip-top shape in no time. There's no need to worry." He attempted to reassurance her.

"Of course sir." For some reason she didn't look very reassured and with once last glance at their hands, left quietly.

"Whuz her." Damian mumbled from where his head was stuffed slightly beneath the pillow to block the light from getting in. He snickered and fixed the pillow. Damian pouted.

"My assistant, Susan. You know she has a son around your age." Damian looked positively scandalized.

"Vlad! I am not dating anyone that is affiliated with you!" He sat up and wacked him with the pillow.

"Oof. Ow." The pillow didn't really hit imhim hard it was worryingly gentle, something Damian would never hold back on he once challenged him to a pillow fight but stuffed his with rocks and we both ended up give each other stitches using the bathroom tiles to ice their bruises.

"You know i never said anything about dating, my boy. Now let's see what was prepared." Damians breakfast consisted of small cake like pancakes shaped like stars with bananas and blueberries arranged like a small constellation. While his was some larger normally shaped pancakes with sliced strawberries and bananas arranged around the outer rim. The other two tiers consisted of several scone and jams and of course clotted cream after on the second day Ellie went on a loud rant right outside the kitchen on how offended she was to not be served clotted cream. The last tier consisted of several small deserts and muffins. He even spotted Damian's favorite muffin, blueberry cheesecake. Or well in his previous life at least, he placed it on his plate anyway, couldn't hurt to try.

"I'm not really hungry." Damian waved him off.

"You have to eat to take this medicine and I know you haven't eaten since you flew in last night, or even longer. Most of this stuff we can cover up and leave out, so you can eat it later if you want." Damian hated when he used logic in his previous life but from what he can remember about his few meetings in this life he liked logic and academics and was quite ahead according to Brucie.

Damian begrudgingly ate the muffin, some fruits and a messily cream and raspberry jamed scone. He only had a bite off the corner star of the pancake before deciding he wasn't a fan of the recipe. Vlad ate both of his pancakes, most of the fruits on his plate, a chocolate muffin, and a cream and apple jam scone. Unfortunately the peace couldn't last because as soon as he deemed Damian had ate enough and gave him the medicine he decided now would be the time to talk.

" I think I'm pregnant." Damian stated calmly staring into his tea cup.

Vlad dropped his own cup and watched the beautiful fine china shatter.

"Your...What?" He spluttered.

"Technically incubation. Dan and Ellies bodies completely destabilized and I merged with their cores to save them. It's something Frostbite briefly taught me." He continued.

Thank god.

"Why didn't you just start with that like a normal person. Are you okay? Is anything hurting not feeling alright?" He could hear himself growing more frantic.

"I'm fine Vlad. There not parasites. Well ellie isn't atleast. We'll have to check with Frostbite for everything else, so we'll need to stsrt the portal as soon as possible"

"You'll need to take the medicine for at least a week before I let you start working around such heavy machinery, but i suppose you can do some calculations up here."

"What! I have to get to Frostbite. How do we know we're doing the right thing? What if...I...do something to hurt them." His voice grew quiet and he closed his eyes both arms came to reach across his stomach and his legs slightly raised and he started to hunch over himself.

"Oh, Damian. I've read about incubation before. Ghosts only allow them selves to merge in such a way with people they must truly trust. If they merged with you, nothing will go wrong. Nothing you can do will hurt them." He moved as he was speaking, sitting down on the bed now. Damian and him had reached the same height in his last life but now his new body was much larger, in both height and muscle, than Damians short height and lean muscle. Made even smaller by him shifting into a ball.

"I don't know. I still had so much to learn and what if we can't open the portal again?" He leaned into him his shoulder more level with his head.

"Have you no trust in your old man? I opened the portal on my own last time with only minor Fenton thievery, thank you. Besides,The only setback I've faced here are the corrupted ectoplasm pools." Damian snickered at him, so he knew his joke wasn't for naught. Until he went rigid suddenly.

"Wait what corrupted pools?"

"The green ectoplasm on this island has pooled together somehow and corrupted itself by laying dormant for sometime. Instrsd of the typical cool and chilling effects the green usually has it seems to be almost acid like. Bubbling and burning things, but I've constructed a purifier that seems to be working well enough." He explained quite confused by Damians sudden change in attitude.

"Why didn't I see i before? Ancients this is worse than i thought..." He stood up suddenly, beginning to pace and run his hands through his hair.

"Slow down. What's going on?" He questioned aiming for placading him, Damian needed rest and minimal stress while sick AND incubating two cores.

"The Lazurus Pits! Their corrupted ectoplasm! Grandfather harnassed them to bring the dead back and get pseudo immortality." He stopped dead at the last word but his back was to Vlad. He's never heard of Lazarus pits before...his grandfather? Thomas Wayne was immortality? But he's dead!

"Thomas Wayne is...immortal?" He questioned as such.

"What? What made you come to that insane conclusion?" He turned to face him, he looked concerned like Vlad was the crazy one muttering.

" Your grandfather?" He looked like a fish, blinking and moving his mouth like he wasn't sur what to say.

"That's actualy not even the craziest thing ive heard actually. No, Ra's al Ghul, the Demon Head is my maternal Grandfather, my mother is Talia al Ghul." What the fuck.

" Brucie Wayne slept with the demons daughter?" Damian couldn't hold back his laughter anymore and burst into laughter turning into a coughing fit, that shook his ribs, and he leant over like he wa going to fall. Vlad quickly moved to support him.

"I'm fine, fruitloop. I just need some water." Vlad steered him to lay back down on the bed. "Stop it fruitloop, your not even my..." he didn't need mind reading powers to know what he was going to say.

" I know." He still tucked him into bed. Moving to turn out the star nightlight out.

"Batman is my father. Batman is Bruce Wayne" I think I'm going to faint.

"The other..." "my siblings." "Of course, no matter what universe we're in you have a crazy family." " You can't talk you made a clone with your archenemy in both lives AND added your own DNA both times."

"It was an accident the first time!" He spluttered.

"Not the second time!" Damian returned.

"I think you need a nap, young man." He sassed.

"Vlad! I am not a baby!" He ignored that remark.

"I'll have Susan wake you up at lunchtime and we'll go to the lab. Is that acceptable for you?"

"Tch." Damian turned around and closed his eyes. He finally succeeded in turning off the lights.

"Sleep well, son." Closing the door softly.

Whatever was a half-ghost to do?

‐--------

Clark Kent was an avid hater of the waiting game. Although he was no stranger to it. It had been now a week since Damian disappeared. Tim had called his sons and broke the news. They had quicky wrapoed everything up and flew back. Jon had yelled at him for hours about having to hear about Damians disappearance from Tim. He just didn't know how to break the news to him. He knew Jon felt betrayed by him especially because they were finally stsrted healing their relationship after everything. Even worse because Jon had finally confided in him how he felt about Damian and now he didn't even tell him when he was kidnapped.

From what he's heard from Bruce, Jon can't hear his heartbeat, but knowing Lex he's most likely kept behind lead so not a totall loss of hope it just means they need detectives not supers.

So he was back at work after parting with Lois he had headed to the break room to get more coffee when he heard it.

"So what Lex has a few sick kids and you think child trafficking? We can't lose another income, mom. Ignore it. Please." He heard his coworker, one he often listened listened in to as his mother coincidentally worked at Lexcorp.

He focused his hearing onto the mother's voice on the other side of the phonecal.

" You don't get it. I can't just ignore it. He experimented on those kids then put them to bed like it was just another day. And then suddenly the kids are gone and the next day another kid is here? It's not right! Something is going on. Wveryday he wakes him up and they est breakfast then they go down to his private lab and dont come out till lunch sometimes until dinner. Last night they didn't come out till midnight and he carried the kid to his own bedroom. There's something going on and I've seen to many rich men take advantage of young children. I can't ignore this again."

Oh god, what if Bruce was wrong about Lex somehow figuring out his identity. What if he noticed him at a gala and took a liking to him. As a reporter he done countless stories on people in high positions who took advantage of their positions of authority to hurt kids. Lex had never seemed that way to him but how well did he really know him anyway? He had some kind of breakdown that changed him anyway. He needed to talk to someone who was familiar with people like this.

He has to call Jason.

A/n I took this chapter to hash out my thoughts on a redeemed father vlad and kis kids. Danny is obviously his favorite, but he does love all of his kids they just don't feel the need to stick around Amity Park like I think Danny would. Danny is also his character foil, and I wanted to tie in both parallels into both him and bruce with vlad. So that is not Canon vlads backstory but something i thought about with the fact he is desperate or obsessed with the idea of a family. Also, if you see any inconsisties between Damian and vlads' povs and the "attack," their might be a reason hint hint. I also wanted to say that vlad and lex are both quite similar in concept but vlad in my au decided to become better for his kids and to choose them first not like lex who loves kon in his own way but is still second to his own mission. vlad very much is more vlad than he is lex mostly because he sees himself in lex if he didn't choose his kids over villainy. While Damian and danny are now more of a mix between each other. I like to think that the danny that saw a random girl who just said she was his cousin and just rolled with it would just roll with the flow if he was reincarnated. I also wanted to bring up the fact that vlad and Damian will pick up the pace and be a lot more worried as you'll see next part and right now the bats are in a disarray trying to find him. Also the supers I only had Jon age up 2 years older than Damian cause he will be a bigger part of the story and I needed him older hint hint he has his mother's purple eyes in this story.

[miss-dollette]

Person Of Interest - Chapter 1. Muse.

Warning: Stalking. Really fucked up opinions on the less fortunate. Remember, this is the salesman we’re talking about.

(A/N): I wrote this over the course of a few days. I haven’t written anything this long in some time, so let me know if I got anything wrong. Also, I’m not Korean and have never visited Korea, so I’m not familiar with Korean culture. Please be easy on me - I don’t even listen to K-Pop and this is my like, second Korean show I’ve watched 😭. Okay, it’s two in the morning and my eyes hurt. Enjoy :)

The little waif appeared at the train station again, as she did every day of the week except Sunday.

He knew that because he had developed a routine of his own-one where he ensured he’d catch a glimpse of her. She was a slight thing, all knobby knees and elbows, with a rounder face that still clung stubbornly to remnants of baby fat. It gave her an air of innocence that would likely never fade into maturity.

Twenty-two years old. A dropout from a prestigious university - why, he didn’t know. She lived with a roommate in a tacky apartment building and was unemployed. Instead, she earned her money playing her violin in the busier sections of the city.

A talented little thing. No matter the weather, her thin but strong fingers coaxed melodies from her instrument, drawing the attention of passersby. The locals knew her well, and they must have appreciated the way her music lured customers to their shops and stands.

The first time he saw her, she was on a concrete platform, playing one of his favorite songs. His hand had stung, his shoulder ached - a long day of recruiting Nothings - but the sound had stopped him in his tracks.

Passersby dropped won into the worn Breton cap she’d laid out in front of her, and each time, she flashed a brief, grateful smile before resuming her tune.

His breath hitched in his chest, his fingers slackening around the handle of his suitcase full of won and two dirty ddakji papers. Even dressed in an oversized coat with patched-up hemlines, she caught his attention in a way that left him stunned.

An elderly man shuffled past her, dropping a few won into her cap before bowing deeply. She paused just long enough to bow back, even lower than he had, before continuing to play.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, lingering spectators began to drift away, heading toward the station to catch their trains. Salarymen and women filed out of their offices, and nearby shops started to close for the night.

When the last stragglers were gone, she stepped down from the platform and retrieved her cap. One by one, she smoothed out the crumpled bills with delicate precision, as though each note were a treasure.

An elderly woman from a nearby food stall approached her, carrying a steaming skewer of dakkochi. Though the girl began counting her bills, ready to pay, the woman shook her head, pressing the food into her hands.

She hesitated, staring at the meat with wide, hungry eyes, before accepting it and bowing low in gratitude.

He watched as she took the first bite, her eyes fluttering shut as though she were savoring the warmth, the taste, the comfort of it. She chewed slowly, and though he couldn’t hear it, he could almost imagine the hum of satisfaction she must have let slip.

It was ridiculous. Fascination with someone so ordinary.

And yet, he couldn’t look away.

How could it be that this crumpled-up, discarded girl had managed to fascinate him so completely?

If he had seen her on any other day, he would have caught her alone, offered her a game of Ddakji, and slapped her cheeks until their softness gave way to mottled bruises. Those babyish cheeks of hers, stained with tears—he could picture it so vividly. Female recruits usually cried by the third slap, but they never stopped playing. The glimmer of hope, of winning back their dignity or even just a few won, kept them in the game.

They were all the same. Male or female. Persistent, pathetic pieces of garbage. That’s what they all had in common.

When she finished her food, she stuffed the crumpled won into a sash tied around her waist, her movements quick yet deliberate. Then she turned her attention to her violin, lifting it with a tenderness that bordered on reverence. She placed the chipped instrument into its worn case so gently that anyone watching might have thought she was laying an infant into its crib.

It was laughable, really.

And yet, he kept watching.

When she stood, she practically skipped toward the train station. Light, careless steps, as though the weight of the world hadn’t settled on her shoulders like it had on everyone else’s. He watched her descend the stairs, each movement unguarded, as though she had nothing to fear.

His fingers tightened around the handle of his suitcase, and his eyes flicked to his watch. The seconds ticked away steadily, a reminder that if he wanted to catch the last train home, he’d need to hurry.

But as he stood there, staring at the spot where she’d disappeared, he felt himself torn.

Head home... or follow her?

The decision hovered in the air, tantalizing and heavy, as the seconds marched on.

He realized that if he didn’t follow her, she’d haunt his thoughts all night. The sound of her tunes, the gleam in her eyes—it would all linger, nagging at him. And what if he never saw the little waif again?

The thought was unbearable.

He took a step toward the station, then another, and another, until he found himself at the platform, watching as she disappeared through the train’s doors.

“Pardon me,” he murmured, brushing past another passenger in his haste.

The man turned sharply, venom already rising to his face - until his gaze fell on him. The glare faltered, melting into something more subdued. Respectful.

It was remarkable, really, how quickly people changed their tune when they caught sight of his tailored coat and polished shoes. They didn’t need to know him, his past, or his purpose. The price tag of his appearance was enough to earn their deference.

How pitiful, he thought, as he adjusted his grip on his suitcase. Once, he’d been nothing - just like them. But now?

Now, he was above them all.

She sat in the distance, wedged between a mother with a toddler clinging to her thighs and a weary salaryman fighting to keep his eyes open. Her violin case rested on her lap, cradled against her chest as though it were something precious, something alive.

He watched her from the corner of his eye, careful not to let his gaze linger too long. If she caught him staring, she’d realize far too soon that she had an observer - and that wouldn’t do. Not that he had any plans of revealing himself.

Fortunately, he was practiced in the art of pursuit. Years of experience had honed his craft, though his targets were typically for a very different purpose.

The train jolted forward, and he swayed slightly, using the motion to adjust his stance, keeping her just within his peripheral vision. She was so unassuming, so small in this world of hurried professionals and exhausted parents. Yet, there was something magnetic about her.

Her oversized coat hung awkwardly off her frame, the patched hemlines almost brushing her knees. It was too large, almost comical, but she wore it without a hint of self-consciousness. Perhaps she didn’t care how it looked, or perhaps she was simply used to making do. The thought both irritated and fascinated him.

He shifted his grip on his suitcase, the leather pressing against his calluses. Would she even be worth it? She wasn’t like the others he had approached. There was a quiet resolve in her, something different. She didn’t wear her desperation as plainly as the others, yet he knew it was there - lurking beneath the surface.

Wasn’t it always?

His lips twitched into the faintest smirk. Everyone had their breaking point. The game just revealed it sooner.

She glanced up briefly, her eyes scanning the train, and his heart seized for a moment. Had she noticed him? No - her gaze swept right past him, uninterested and unseeing. He let out a slow, controlled breath, reminding himself that he was a master at this. Years of practice had taught him how to melt into the background, to become just another face in the crowd.

But watching her, he felt something unusual - a spark of impatience. Normally, he could bide his time, savoring the slow unraveling of his prey’s composure. But with her, the anticipation was different. Her every movement - so small, so deliberate - pulled at something in him, though he couldn’t quite name what.

The train rattled through another stop, and a few passengers shuffled off. She remained in her seat, her hands absently brushing over the scratched surface of her violin case. Did she know how fragile she looked in that moment? The way her fingers lingered on the case, as though drawing strength from it, made his chest tighten in a way that annoyed him.

Perhaps that was it - the illusion of fragility. People like her always looked so easy to break, so willing to bend under pressure. But they never went quietly. No, they always had a streak of stubbornness, a refusal to yield that made the process all the more satisfying.

He swallowed, his mind flickering between possibilities. If he approached her now, how would she react? Would she freeze, caught off guard by someone acknowledging her for any other reason besides her violin? Or would she look at him with suspicion, sensing something amiss?

The train slowed, and the voice over the intercom announced the next station. His pulse quickened. She adjusted her grip on her case, her body shifting as she got ready to stand.

He waited until the distance between them widened before stepping off the train. The crowd of passengers spilling onto the platform was his cover, their hurried steps and muted chatter blending him seamlessly into the flow of bodies. Not that she would suspect anyone was following her. Who would?

Once outside the station, she weaved her way past the gleaming high-rises and into narrower, dimly lit streets. The transition was stark - the polished facade of the city gave way to crumbling walls, cracked sidewalks, and flickering streetlights. It made sense for her to live in this part of town. He never imagined she could afford anything more secure.

She paused in front of a small brick building, its exterior worn and unremarkable, much like her. He hung back, watching as she disappeared through the front doors. His pulse steadied, and he exhaled slowly. Following her inside would be foolish - far too risky. A smaller building like this meant she likely knew her neighbors, and a stranger’s presence wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Still, his lips curved into a faint smile. The journey might have ended here, but now he knew where she lived. A detail worth savoring.

Just as he turned to retrace his steps to the station, a light flickered on in one of the windows. His head snapped up, and his gaze locked onto it. A shadow moved against the thin curtain, a familiar silhouette. Her slight frame was unmistakable, and so was that oversized Breton cap perched awkwardly on her head.

Yes, it was her.

For a moment, he stood frozen, watching her shadow shift. She set something down - likely the violin case she had cradled so protectively on the train. He could almost picture her now, brushing the dust off her coat, pulling her hair free from under the cap, perhaps exhaling with relief to finally be home.

His grip on his suitcase tightened.

“I should leave now,” he thought. Lingering too long would be reckless, but something about that glowing window and her faint outline held him captive. It was a glimpse into her world - simple, predictable, fragile. A world so easy to disrupt.

Finally, he turned away, but his steps were slow, reluctant. He had what he came for, but the thought of her shadow, the dim light framing her every movement, stayed with him.

Time to say Goodbye.

[misstycloud]

Bear hybrid

Synopsis: you were on your way to work, when suddenly a bear-hybrid sees you. The look in his eyes says everything you need to know. Not wanting to spend the rest of your life as someone’s possession, you bolt. Too bad he won’t let you get away a second time.

——

Ugh, another long day ahead of me.

You thought tiredly. The long shifts at the diner you worked at really took its toll on you. If you could, you’d quit. But free time wasn’t worth getting starved.

You sighed and stared down at the gum stuck onto a trash can. There was a hint of pale pink on it, signaling the colour it originally was.

Gum sticking to practically every surface in the subway station wasn’t the only defects. There were plastic cups, cigarettes, paper towels and a lot more unidentified items scattered freely.

Frankly, it was disgusting. If the government spent less on hybrid establishment improvement and more on the condition of public spaces, the maybe it wouldn’t look like shit everywhere.

You felt like a shitty person for thinking such things, hybrids have endured thousands of things in the past and now with modern development, they can finally lead satisfactory lives.

However, the government have begun to focus all their attention to the welfare of hybrids and neglecting humans in the process. It wasn’t their fault, you knew that. Still, one couldn’t help what they felt.

It’s not like you disliked hybrids, yet you did not love them either. You were neutral in that department. There were still humans with the old views, but they weren’t as many anymore or they simply didn’t run around telling people since it wouldn’t be very well received. The biggest problem and maybe the only problem you had with hybrids were their mating culture.

Clearly, no one in the relationship had a choice(not that they complained) and suddenly you’re supposed to be together until you die.

And now that they’re allowed to mate with humans legally, there is little that can stop them from forcing their human partner from submitting to their will; living and accept them as a lifelong partner. Despite protests against this done by humans the government refuses to acknowledge the issue and address it since that would be considered antagonizing parts of the hybrids’ culture.

It was wrong to force someone into a relationship they clearly express they didn’t want, unfortunately the animal-hybrids do not care for unwanted courting and do what they want anyway.

You shuddered at the thought of being mated to one of those creatures. It must be hell. Especially if you already have a partner previous to meeting them. Hybrids did not take kindly to those who might come between them and their mate. It wasn’t unusual to see news cover horrific deaths with the culprit being a hybrid ‘protecting’ their mate.

The train arrived and you made an annoyed face at how crowded it was. What felt like hundreds of people were squeezed into one cart, rubbing against each other and breathing as one being, making it incredibly warm inside.

You grabbed a pole with your right hand, trying to steady yourself and also liking to have something solid ground you. You’ve seen way to many consequences of people not holding on to anything while standing.

It was uncomfortable. Arms and elbows poked you from all sides, and two teenagers were talking way beyond the proper volume in such a cramped space. You couldn’t wait to get off.

Suddenly, commotion stole your attention elsewhere. Sounds of irritated folk earned everyone’s stares. You heard men and women alike, complaining about movement and pushing.

“Hey, stop pushing me!”

“Don’t look at me, it’s someone else!”

“Alright, who is then?”

Angry remarks were thrown. Not that you could blame them. The uncomfortable ride paired with lack of oxygen were not suited for enjoyable time.

An apologetic voice exclaimed, “Sorry! I need to get through, it’s important. Sorry, didn’t mean to step on your toes!”

Eyes widening and mouth nearly falling wide open, you turn to see the biggest man you’ve ever seen! His form was easily towering above all others, making you think that he was part of the reason why the train cart was so crowded.

The ginormous man had dark brown hair reaching his broad shoulders, the locks were messy and thick, slightly falling in front of his eyes.

What stood out the most however wasn’t his unnatural size. It was the pair of two brown, rounded ears atop his head.

It instantly hit you. The inhuman height was because he wasn’t human at all. He was a hybrid. A bear one at that! One of the most dangerous hybrids there is. While they might not attack unless provoked or caught off guard, meeting one is definitely something most would avoid.

Your heart nearly beat out of your chest when the bear-man’s eyes connected with yours. They were an odd amber colour, you noticed.

Fuck! You shouldn’t have looked his way.

And like the dumbass wannabe-dead, something in your brain forces your gaze back up and you freeze. The look on his face when he sees you. The look. It was the look.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

This could not be happening. It was obvious what was happening. You’d heard about it. On TV. From friends. Seen it in real life. There was no way you could be someone’s mate. Not when you’d spent so many nights praying it wasn’t your fate, since you didn’t want to end up like those humans you’ve heard about.

Well now you knew why he was causing a disturbance on the train. It was to get to you. A hybrid can easily smell its mate hundreds of meters away. He must have smelt you the second you got on that train and gone searching for you.

A squeak escaped your lips as you saw him waving at you while attempting to close the distance. Of course it did not go fast because of all the people between you.

No. You refused to be chained down to some animal. You had to get out. And as if someone above heard you, you heard the train voice speak, “Station X.”

That was your station.

The hybrid seemed to have noticed someone was off, he observed your face before glancing at the approaching platform. Then it clicked in his head.

“No, wait!”

Too late. You were already bolting out the doors, listening to angry comments after you. You only had time to rush a hasted ‘sorry’ before making it on the platform. The man did not have the same luck.

“Don’t go! Please! Don’t leave! No. ”

He desperately tried to shove passed all the passengers to get to the doors, but there was no time left and the doors closed shut before he managed to reach within one meter of them. The wheels of the train were rolling the connected vehicles away.

You had no interest to stay and watch, though. You still had a job to go to and you couldn’t afford to be late, or else your boss would scold you fiercely again.

Half running and half jogging, you hurried to the diner while in deep thought. Had you lost him? Maybe, but probably not forever. As hybrid will stop at nothing to find their mate once they’ve entered their sights.

‘Fuck. My. Life. ‘

The next station the train would stop at was a bit away, so perhaps you were lucky this time? If you were careful from now on and don’t go out as much, then you could possibly avoid being found. Also, your work place was somewhat far from the subway.

If you saved up a bit, then you could also by a scent-masking spray to hide yourself further. Although it was risky to do that. Because hybrids need a fair chance of finding their mate, masking spray became forbidden after people started using it to avoid hybrids. So now the only place you can buy it is from shady markets or people who may or may not want to steal your kidneys. Besides all that, it was very costly too.

You dragged a hand through your hair and heaved a deep sigh. What were you going to do?

“Y/N stop daydreamin’ an get back ta work!” Your boss yelled and slapped you harshly on the back. He always did that. You were sure he got a kick out of messing with you.

Massaging your shoulder you answered, “Sorry boss…”

The diner wasn’t too busy so you had no idea of why he tried to rush you. Sure, there were some customers here and there filling the tables, but you weren’t so understaffed that you’d have to aprint around like a maniac trying to get everyone’s orders.

Approaching a table with customers, you put on you employe smile, “Hello, what can I get for you today?”

The man looked at the menu an extra time to finalise his decision, “I’ll have the chicken pasta with sundries tomatoes and red wine, can we also order some garlic bread?”

“Yes,” you wrote down the dishes on your small notepad and turned your attention to the woman sitting across him, “and you, ma’am?”

No answer.

“Ma’am?”

But she wasn’t paying any attention to you. It was as if you didn’t even exist, looking passed you like air with wide eyes. Finding this weird you turned back to her husband. Feeling your gaze he chuckled awkwardly.

“Honey? Aren’t you going to order?” She still didn’t respond which forced her husband to see whatever she was focusing so intently on.

It was then you realised they weren’t the only ones acting unusual. In fact, everyone inside the establishment had their eyes turned in the same direction. You swung around to witness the horror.

There, in the resturant entrance stood he. His form created the illusion of the door being as insignificant as an ant. With heavy breath and droplets of sweat collecting on his forehead, he frantically whirled around until he noticed you.

Dropping your notepad and hand clasping over your mouth, you thought ‘fuck, so I didn’t get rid of him?’

Okay, even though it was kinda delusional to believe you could shake him off easily without consequences, you were still surprised he found you so quickly. The hybrid wiped his eyes and it was then you noted the redness surrounding them, an obvious sign of crying.

He stumbled forward, “There you are, I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to find you!”

Suddenly you were the centre of attention.

“W-what….?” Backing, you feigned ignorance.

“You saw me on the train earlier, I tried to stop you getting off but you took off without warning…” he hung his head in despair.

Yeah, guess why?

“You should leave..”

“Huh? No, I can’t g-“ the hybrid rushed.

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere?” The voice of your boss interrupted. With a deep scowl he paraded into the scene but crossed his arms in a defensive stance as soon as he laid eyes in the bear-man. His eyes ran up and down the bear’s large form. “W-whatddya you want?” Your boss’ gruff voice sounded unusually weak. “If there’s any trouble I’ll ‘ave ta call the cops, ya got me?” He said despite appearing like a newborn deer.

A bewildered expression crossed the tall man’s face, “No I’m not here to cause anything! I’m here for someone!” He explained while waving his arms, trying to signal peace. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect, the humans in the diner cowered lightly at the gesture and he instantly stopped. “Sorry…” he whispered and suddenly he looked ashamed.

Your boss cleared his throat, “Alright. Who ya ‘ere for?” He’d make that person goes with the scary man to make him leave as soon as possible. Not that he’d admit it, but he never liked those hybrid people. They just seemed unreliable it all. Nothing to be trusted. With their animal intincts present and sharp teeth, he couldn’t allow them to be in his resturant. He hadn’t the courage to blatantly kick them out or shout in their faces but he could at least give them what they wanted to make them lose interest as fast as possible.

The bear’s gaze searched yours and your boss put two and two together. “Oi, Y/N, come ‘ere. Someone’s looking for ya!” The man pulled your collar to drag you forward, earning a small frown from the hybrid but it vanished just as quickly.

You refused to look at him, keeping your attention to the floor and praying for him to go away. A rough hand carressed your cheek and you flinched and after hestitation it pulled away.

“Won’t my mate look at me..?” A saddened voice said.

A twinge of guilt started brewing in your mind but you pushed it down. “I see this is new to you-being human and all, haha.” He tried to liven up the atmosphere. “Umm…you know what this is though? Me seeing you and then following you here must be creepy, haha- but it’s not I promise! I just want to love you. Because we’re,” he giggled, “mates!” He happily sighed. “And you know what that is, right? If you don’t it’s fine, I’ll tell you. Being mates is loving someone no matter what, be it looks or personality nothing is important. Mates take care of each other, providing for your mate and making them happy is the best feeling in the world! There doesn’t exist anything that can compare!- not that I know that personally or anything since I haven’t had a mate before but I’ve heard from all my friends who have mates. Oh, I’m so jealous of them whenever I see them together with their mates doing fun things. Though it doesn’t really matter what you’re doing as long as it’s with your ma-“

“Please stop!” You yell, several customers flinched at your tone, not that you cared anymore. Having to listen to his constant talk about being mates had brought you over your boiling point. The man silenced at your exclamation. “Sorry, but I don’t give a shit about all this mate stuff or whatever- it doesn’t mean anything to me so please leave! I’m sorry that this isn’t what you want to hear but I have no interest in being your mate, not now, not ever.” You pointed at the door. “So go.”

The hybrid was stunned and stood quiet, appearing hurt. Then your boss promptly spoke, “Y/N, you shouldn’t speak to someone like that! Especially someone who loves you so much!”

“Huh?” What the hell was he going on about? He never cared for hybrids, certainly not their feelings. You’ve heard all those thing he said about them when he thought no one was listening.

“Clark.” The hybrid said and lowered his head.

“What?”

“My name. I apologise, I shouldn’t have barged in here expecting you to be chill about everything. I’m such a fool. I’m just a stranger to you. The least I could do is tell you my name.” The apology sounded so sincere.

“No, it’s uh- fine..” you scratched your arm anxiously. Luckily he seems pretty nice and not someone who would just take their mate and go; it’s happened before. Perhaps you’ve got a chance?

“Oh come on Y/N! Give the poor fella a chance!” Your boss bellowed and forced you forward. You crashed into the giant’s chest from the shove. “He clearly loves you!

What the hell was he going on about?

Strange that the man was encouraging your reunion, you thought.

“Actually, since I’m so nice, why don’ I do ya a favour and let ya go? Someone like you shouldn’t have to work in a place like this. This’a happy day!” Then he pointed at the beak room, “Get ya stuff and celebrate.”

“Excuse me-wha- let me go? As in I’m fired?” Your brain tried to comprehend what just happened and words fell out in unfinished sentences. Despite yourself, you fixed your eyes on Clark.

“Don’ worry he’ll be ‘ere when ya get back!” The rough man shooed you towards the break room.

Having no choice but to comply, you do as he wishes and abandon the scene, which might’ve been the best thing really, the continued staring of the present customers was starting to make you very uncomfortable.

Glaring at your locker like it was the cause of your ill mood, you harshly ripped your jacket off the hook and stuffed some scattered items back in your bag. You could not believe it. Fired? You? You have been nothing but a good employee at the diner, even taking all the shit from the boss and not complaining once.

Through the small window in the door, you spot the cause of your troubles thoughts walking by. Angrily you grab his arm and pull him inside the room, a surprised noise leaving him.

“What the hell, why am I being laid off? I haven’t done anything.”

He expressed a long breath. “Sorry, but I can’t ‘ave some brute hangin ‘round here ‘cause of you, customer don’t like it and I won’t sacrifice my business for someone like you. Surely you understand.”

“He won’t hang around the diner, we’re not together! Besides, it not my fault!” You pleaded with him. You needed this job. Without it you’d definitely die in the end.

“Well, we both know he won’t leave so don’ make this any harder than it already is.” He said before leaving to do whatever shit he did instead of being a good manager.

Bullshit. It wasn���t hard at all. In fact, you bet he loved to have an excuse to get rid of you. He never liked you from the very beginning; the feeling was very mutual by the way.

With despair, you left through the back door and as you listened to it close, you did not react to the loud bam of the heavy metal slam. Recalling at how you flinched the first time you went out the back, you clench your fist. How’re you gonna make it now? You doubted you had much savings in the bank.

Making your way to the station, it blew passed you that there was still a bear waiting for you so he could properly introduce himself. He was in his own mind so much that he didn’t realise you’d already left until it was too late.

Good that he was born with a great sense of smell. How stupid of him not to consider your perspective in the beginning! Not to worry, he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off the next time. His species didn’t have the best reputation so he understood why you acted the way you did; it still hurt though.

The next time he’d just need to show you he wasn’t dangerous at all.

——

Sorry the ending sucked and was rushed. I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to end it so it turned into this.

[aveli-li]

sfw grayson hcs

warnings: mentions of death

She isn’t a workaholic, but she never left her position with things uncompleted which caused some extra work hours ahead of the week.

She was a safe space for Caitlyn during her young years. I believe Cait had always felt pressured by her parents and the heaviness of her family name on her, so she often came to Grayson for a nice talk or just to escape from the duties and clean her head. That also helped Grayson to have breaks between her work hours.

She also was Caitlyn’s most admired person when she was little. Having such a responsibility to teach and train the next generation, she felt adored by the girl.

Including long talks about Caitlyn’s likes and sexuality, which Grayson offered full support, answered her doubts, and brushed away her insecurities, and even coming out to also liking women (if wasn’t obvious for the girl). Caitlyn has kept this moment in her memories and heart since then.

The day of her death was a shock for Caitlyn, the poor girl couldn’t believe it until she saw the expensive adorned coffin being lowered to the earth. She cried for days but swore to keep her teachings to be a great enforcer like she was.

She also took Grayson’s enforcer suit designs onto hers as a homage.

In the modern world, she was born in Italy but her parents are from Greece, they all moved out when she was a kid. Although she grew up distant from her birth pace her parents brought Italian culture with them, so Grayson had a piece of her homeland with her.

That being said, her family name could be Venzago or even Sorrento.

Her school days were simple and calm, she was a great student and got good grades, helping to pass on the Piltover schools and become an enforcer. Grayson always wanted to serve as an enforcer, and her hard work was quickly recognized although becoming a sheriff wasn’t in her expectations she carried the title and responsibility with courage and force.

Grayson’s favorite place was the live music jazz bar she used to go to when she was younger. Despite not liking to go to places by herself, she goes there during special dates and free work days, but keeps the tradition of playing a good jazz record and having a drink on hand.

She is a very domestic and at home person, despite liking to adventure and change habits she prefers to do outsider activities at the comfort of her home.

[kipercrow]

A Gassy Roomate

Based on: ​​https://at.tumblr.com/imagineyourgassyotp2/imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-is-apartment-hunting/yktjrcnuqeud

Kevin: 24 (He/They)

Saige: 25 (They/Them)

I stared at the computer screen, scrolling from webpage to webpage. I need an apartment rather quickly. I got a job as a writer for a Pop Culture website. Right now I live with my parents, sure it’s fine but the commute to the office is pretty long, and I need somewhere closer. So, I’ve been spending the past few days looking for apartment listings or roommate offers. So far the apartments have either been too small, not have enough light, and definitely have no room for a goat let alone a dog. I keep scrolling and scrolling when suddenly I see an offer that feels too good to be true. 

Hello! Looking for a roommate to cover 10% of the rent. I will cover the rest of the $1,217 rent and as I work from home I will be able to make any meals to accommodate your living experience. I have a slight medical condition, I am willing to go into more detail about it during our face to face visit. 

If you are interested please send an email through the contact button on top, include “Roommate” in your subject line. 

Saige

The images Saige included of the apartment are amazing. It looks really spacious and Saige has good taste in furniture. The bedroom that they show looks really nice, I think I can feel comfortable here. What’s the worst that can happen? I always send my location to my parents, you know, just in case I go missing. So I decide to send Saige an email.

Hi! My name is Kevin. I saw your roommate offer and I am willing to meet up to see the place and talk to you. 

I write some more letting them know about my job and how much I make. A minute after I send the email, Saige responds. They let me know what time we can meet later today, which works out really well for me since I have nothing else to do today. 

I got out of the train and walked over to Saige’s building. Their apartment is on the second floor and so far everything seems pretty good, no complaints from me. Knock on the door and Saige greets me when they open it. “Hey nice to meet you face to face, come on in” I enter the apartment and it’s as amazing as I thought it’d be. “Wow it’s really nice” I say, smiling afterwards. “Heh, thanks. I tried my best. Of course if you decide to move in, you can add whatever you want. Unless it’s like an animal head. I draw the line there.” “Haha don’t worry, I don’t like that kind of stuff.” “Great! Follow me and I’ll show you your room. Over there is my bedroom and the bathroom is right across the hall from you.” This is great!” The room is pretty spacious, and it shouldn’t be too hard to bring whatever I need over. We walk over to the living room and sit on the couch, past the living room I can see the kitchen, it looks pretty big as well. “So Kevin, what do you think?” “I think this is all pretty great. I mean this apartment is big and spacious. It’s close to the subway-” as I talk I see Saige shifting in his seat, and they look uncomfortable, “- You seem really great. The building is clean. I have a few questions, are there any bugs that sneak in?” “Ahh no, no bugs” “Great! How noisy are the neighbors?” “They’re great, just great.” “Awesome! Okay so, in the post you said that you’re willing to go into your medical condition.” Before Saige could answer we were greeted with a noise that a lot of us are familiar with.

PPPBBBRBRRRBPTTTTTT

Saige instantly goes red. “Oh my gosh I’m so so sorry” I fan the air in front of me and laugh. “No no it’s fine, that was good. My uncle would be jealous!” Saige gets up and opens a window. “Okay so, my slight medical condition is that I have chronic gas, well I’ll go more into it. It’s like related to how my insides work. I used to have a lot of cramps and stuff you don’t want to hear about, but now because I’ve been adjusting my diet and the food I make has let me survive this long. So-” they stop and hold up a finger and lean to the left.

BBRBRRBRRTRTTTT

“-All I have now is gas. Which I totally get if you don’t want to move in with me because of that. I’ve lost so many roommates because of my farts.” I looked back at him. “That’s it? You just fart a lot?” “Yeah pretty much.” “I don’t mind it that much. They don’t smell that bad and I can be gassy depending on what I eat. So I don’t think I have a reason to worry.” “You really don’t mind it?” “Of course not.” “So will you be thinking of moving in?” “Yes! I’m happy to move in.” “Great, we can sign the lease tomorrow and you can move in after that” “That sounds great. Thank you so much” We stand up and shake hands and I go on my way.

-1 Week Later-

A week has gone by since I saw Saige’s apartment and signed the lease. I’ve moved in little by little and have put up most of my things and gotten a dresser for my clothes. I have a box of some pictures I want to put up but there’s no rush. Tonight is my first night in the apartment. I'm kind of nervous, but Saige is making dinner for us. After changing into my pajamas, I walk to the kitchen.

PBPBPBRTTT

“Hungry?” Saige said not bringing the fart to attention. “Yeah, the food smells good. What is it?” I ask.

BRBRPRBP

“Some roasted veggies, salmon, and some white rice. I hope you like it.” “I’m sure I will.” Ever since I moved in, Saige has been farting. It’s true that they do fart more than another person, but thankfully the smell isn’t so bad. The smell of the food they’re cooking greatly overpowers the stench of their gas. I haven’t farted in front of them yet but they don’t seem to mind. “Here, tell me if the rice is done.” they say handing me a spoonful. As soon as I taste it, the rice tastes so wonderful. I’m not sure how they did it, but the rice is different from any other type of rice I’ve eaten before. “It’s amazing. I think it’s perfect.” “Great! I’m glad to hear that.” They turn off the stove for the rice and check in the oven. 

BRAAPPP

“Okay, just a little bit more for the veggies and salmon to be done. Then we can eat.” they say as we walk over by the sink. “So Kevin, how do you like it so far?” they ask me, smiling. “Really great. I feel really comfortable here” I respond. As if to accentuate my point, I feel gas heading on out.

PBRTT

“Hey nice! You finally let one rip!” “I told you I was feeling comfortable.” “I guess it’ll take you some time to match up to mine.” We laugh after they say that. Saige walks over to the oven, turns it off, and pulls out the veggies and the salmon. “Alright food is done, sit down at the table and I’ll serve you.” I sit at the table and watch Saige serve us food. We eat together and talk about what we want to do later, we settle on a movie night. We also set some ground rules about farting at the table. We agreed that it’s alright to fart at the table, unless the other person’s mouth is open and unless people are at the table with us.

Saige and I moved to the living room, sitting next to each other on the couch, resting our legs on foot rests. Saige put on ‘Scooby Doo and the Cyber Chase’, I haven’t seen the movie in a while but it’s a fun watch.

PRBRRPBPRBTTTTT

“Sorry about that, my food makes me gassier” they say.

BRRBRBTBTB

BRBRBRBBR

“If it gets to you, you can open a window.” “It’s no problem.” As we sit and watch the movie, Saige lets out a couple more farts, my stomach rumbles.

BBRRRAAPPP

Woah, that was bigger than my usual ones! “Nice one man!” Saige says, extending their hand towards me. I high five him back. “Thanks”

PPBBBPRBRTTTTT

PBRRBRPTTTTPBRTT

PRPBTT

“Guess I’m gassy today haha” “Oh no, is my food having an affect on you.” “Probably not. Must be a mix of my emotions, and so what if it does. That just means I can keep up with you now.” I smile at them. They smile back and then lean to the side and let out another fart.

PRBRBPRBRPBRBTTTTTRBPTBTTTTTRBPTBT

“Oh that’s great! I was nervous that you were going to move out.” “Oh no I wouldn’t, not for a little farting. You know it’s great that at my job we have our own cubicles, so there’s no worry about anyone walking into my farts. I mean the amount you fart is nothing compared to the gas from my boss. Phew! He must let rip like 10 a minute. I think it’s all the protein powder he intakes” I say before laughing. I lean to my right and let out another fart.

RBRBBRBRBRBRBRBTT

“That was a good one Kevin!” they hold up a finger

PRRRRRRTTTTTTT 

BRRRAAPPPPPPP 

PBRBRTTTTTTT

Three farts in quick succession! “You have a talent Saige!” “Heh thanks! I’ve been thinking about heading to the gym more. Let me know what protein powder your boss gets so we can beat him at his own game.” I lean forward slightly

PRRRRRRPRUTUTTTTT

BRPRTTTT

“Will do! You’re pretty muscular Saige. Anyone would love to have a body like yours” “Ha thanks! You have a good body yourself. At least you don’t have my gas!” they say winking afterwards. I blush a little. Saige lifts their leg slightly.

PBRBBRRBRRTTTTTTTTTRBBRTTT

PBRRBRRRRRRRRRRRTTTBTBTTTTBPTBB

We spend the rest of the movie ripping farts when we need to. They put their arm around me, and I put my head on their chest. I really like Saige, they make me feel safe. I’m glad to be their roommate. 

Once the movie ends we head to our rooms to call it a night. I let Saige use the bathroom first, I can see them brushing their teeth.

BRRRRUUURRBTUTTTTTT

When they’re done in there, I head in and brush my teeth. I can hear Saige farting in their room. I head back to my room, once I do Saige pokes their head in. “Hey, just wanna say goodnight. Oh and if you wake up before me tomorrow, the pots and pans are in the oven.” “Thanks. Night Saige.” Saige turns around but stands in place.

PBPBRBRRBRRTTTTT

“That’s my goodnight kiss.” they say before heading off to bed. I laugh and close my door.

BBRRBTTT

BRRRTTT

PBRTTT

Ha..the food did a number on me for sure. I grab my phone and see that I have a text from my boss. “Kevin! Don’t come in tomorrow, we’re doing an online day. Sorry for the inconvenience, take care!” As I get done reading this, I hear Saige farting in their room.

PPBRBRPRRBRRBRBBRBBBTTTT

Tomorrow is going to be a fun day.

[tacky-optic]

SINNERS, ALL OF 'EM

the seven deadly sins + the gang = way too much overthinking

Lupin's Gluttony The world's his for the talking, yet he can never be satisfied. That'd be a real bummer if he were anyone else, but that hunger for more challenges, more adventures, seems to only add more fuel to an already roaring fire. He's a Glutton for a lot of things: Punishment, mainly. But also attention and experiences. His curiosity is insatiable. The only issue with Lupin's Gluttony is that he isn't inherently wasteful, which is a pretty glaring caveat. In that case, the big question would be "does the damage he leave in his wake outweigh that which was stolen in the first place?"

Jigen's Sloth/Envy "Man, I'm too old for this shit" incarnate, with a little dash of "I'm still going to silently judge you from my dark little corner, though" on top. It isn't Sloth "I'm gonna take a decade to get to this" so much as it is "I'm gonna do what you want me to do so rapidly and effectively that you're gonna think twice about waking me up again after I get back to my nap." But he really doesn't do jack-all if it isn't Lupin-related. If it were just him all on his lonesome, he'd kind of just rot. He is indifferent to his effectiveness. Bored, even. His loyalty to Lupin is an inherent aversion of his responsibilities as an individual.

His Envy brings him to action. He's a man of a lot of subtle wants and no willpower to take them, but with the right motivator, he'll bring down armies. Fujiko is a pretty good spur-on, as well as anything that remotely puts Lupin in the line of inconvenience or danger. If it's for one of his very, very few friends, he'd go through hell and high water just to get them a decent sandwich or something. Just be thankful his Envy's benign instead of malicious...

Goemon's Pride Mr. "Once again, I have cut a worthless object". There's literally an entire movie about his ego getting so utterly shattered that he gets all cagey/stabby mode about it for the rest of the movie, on top of training so hard he rewrites his entire goddamn nervous system just so he can do said stabby better. It's fantastic. To dedicate oneself so fully to one skill, then to restrict it to your own judgement as to not tarnish it, feels like the antithesis of humility. Pride, in a biblical sense, is to sever oneself from God; to become so wholly individual and confident in said fact that you forsake conventional belief in favor of your own. So congrats on netting the literal Worst sin, Goemon, you've earned it. God ain't shit when you can cut through anything.

Fujiko's Greed Does... does this even need elaborating. She's a woman that knows exactly what she wants and exactly how to get it, plain and simple. Why settle for anything less than the best?

Zenigata's Wrath/Lust What a wombo-combo, damn. This guy's the definition of love/hate. He's a man simultaneously impassioned and overwhelmed by his emotions, yet they lend so heavily to his professional and personal effectiveness that without them, he wouldn't be him anymore. Wrath and Lust go hand in hand, in a roundabout sort of way. It's about loving something so much that you want to crush it. A brutal dimorphous expression of emotion. To long for something to intensely, so vehemently, that it guides every action, fuels every decision... Underneath it all, would it even be possible to know what you are if that drive is all that defines you? Could you even call that living? We're talking about a guy who unironically wears heart boxers and almost exclusively eats cup noodle, people. This symbolism's very disturbing...

That's A Wrap You can always argue other sins for each of the cast members, of course. Lust for Lupin, Wrath for Jigen, Envy for Zenigata-- whatever. At the end of the day, they're all objectively terrible people. It's semi-safe to say that outside of religious contexts, the seven deadly sins have grown subjective in common culture/media. So why not take liberties? I sure as hell did. It's a goddamn miracle these managed to turn out so succinct.

[zprite-x]

I caved and decided to try and join the Kirby OC tournament :]

The Lost Warrior from a not too far-away planet, traveling at the speed of a comet, your new competitor has arrived!

Name: Halley

Reference Image/s:

Notes on Personality:

Halley in fewest words possible is sharp as a needle, an observant analyst. An aloof, battle hardened warrior to some, a polite, helpful guide to others, and to a few - a wholehearted friend.

Backstory and Lore:

CW - Death

Halley is from a not-too-far planet in the Gamble galaxy, just a couple solar systems away from popstar’s. Born from stardust meeting fire much like most of her kind, she was taken in by her mentor, Stal. Although under a different name at the time, Halley was taught the ways of her culture revolving around stories of warriors, paradise, and butterflies. The cycle of life, death and rebirth. Taught to respect the butterflies passing by as they guide souls. Taught they are protectors of life, but should never interfere with death. It was a lot for Halley to grasp, but with time she’ll soon understand the weight of her role in this life.

Outside of lessons with Stal, Halley would hang out with a few of her friends. They’d all do typical things you’d expect a teenager to do - walk in the woods, gossip about other apprentices, spread harmless little rumors, and the likes. Though one day the small group of moth-like aliens noticed something peculiar. There was an uptick in the amount of remains of bones, sure they’d come across them every-once-in-a-while (animal’s got to eat you know). Now being so closely tied to the cycle of life and death, the gang could tell there was something not right with this. It was almost like a dark smog emitted from the skeletons, consuming every living thing in its wake. They all fled the scene before anything could happen and decided to bring this up to their mentors who they have looked up to for all these years. After informing them, the small community had brought this up with their elders, who brought it up with their higher ups, and so on and so forth.

It was weeks until they got an answer back, death in the forest had spread to nearby villages. Everything made since when they learned it was Necrodeus and his lackeys invading the solar system. Claiming everything in its icy cold grip of death. Not ceasing until it snuffs out the brightest star in the universe.

How long has this been going on?

How many have died with theirs lives cut too short?

Mentors have increased training, less free time for apprentices. After all there was going to a war soon. They had to defend their home. They needed every second they could.

Outside of the increasingly harsher training that an upcoming war brought, Halley’s friends taught her about self-expression, leading to Halley to question who she is for once, think about life outside of training. Her and Stal talked about how Halley felt like she was more than who she is, something better, something greater than how she currently looked. Son renaming herself to Halley and taking on the feminine uniforms, she started to feel more like herself. Stal guided and supported her through every step of the way, even defending her on a few occasions. Halley felt a kinship with Stal - that no matter what happened, Stal would be there to guide her.

After a few years of sharpening her skills with the blade, Necrodeus drew closer, war was one the horizon. Halley was finally announced to be a full fledged warrior. At the ceromony, Halley was gifted a neatly cut piece of Stal’s cape, the one which she presently wears around her neck.

It wasn’t long after that until battles were being planned, attacks and ambushes launched on both sides. Halley had learned how to scout and terminate anything that drew near effectively and efficiently.

Many were lost, enemies revealed themselves as well as allies shone through the darkness with them, Halley had to even part with some close friends being lost in smog of death. There was a growth in incidents of apprentices turning on their mentors or vice versa. Many believed it was the influence of Necrodeus. Soon Halley was brought to the heat of battles, no longer remaining a guard for the villages. For a while it seemed like Halley’s tribe was winning. The smog that polluted the air was less and birds began to sing in the skies again.

That was until one tragic day, while out scouting, an ambush was launched. Everything went by so fast. All Halley could see was a thick black fog, all they could smell was the scent of death. Trudging through for survivors. Halley spotted the orange -not so much anymore- iridescent cloak of their mentor among the trees. Rushing to her aid, Halley spotted for the first time in a while, a butterfly. Never once did she want swat it away, to keep preserving someone’s life, to go against everything her mentor as taught her. Not once until now.

It wasn’t her time.

Not yet, it couldn’t be!

But as she stood there frozen with a mix of volatile emotions boiling inside her, Stal’s breathing eventually became shallower and shallower before ceasing indefinitely. Become nothing but embers in the air. Leaving a scrap of torn cloak, and Halley. In shock.

Why didn’t she do anything? Why didn’t she take her to safety or the very least say goodbye?

A search party was sent for Halley 2 days later. She was eventually found not far from the village, disheveled and clutching a scrap of her mentors cloak.

Returning safely and being sentenced to bed rest until she could recover. Halley could hear rumors blaming her for Stal’s death. Too in shock and snapping at a few, Halley became more and more distant. Newer recruits saw a cold warrior. Elders saw a grieving child.

Returning to battle, Halley rarely talked to anyone. Remaining focused on fighting back, a fire that still burned brighter than ever with grieving rage. However all efforts were fruitless, Halley’s tribe was soon overwhelmed. Some began fleeing to other planets. Halley watched as numbers dwindled, soon elders were begging her to save herself, Necrodeus has won, the planet was his. Halley heeded their advice weeks later. When her community finally fell. As far as Halley knew, they were the last of their kind on this planet, the rest have fled. Where to? She didn’t know, but she did know that she wasn’t dying to something so cold and suffocating. This is not her end, she will keep going for Stal’s sake.

Fleeing the planet, going far through a few solar systems. Till she reached a brighter planet. This was far enough she thought.

Arriving to Popstar just a little before a spring breeze flew on through, Halley noticed the air was different. They could finally smell life, and the birds were singing sweet songs that wasn’t mockery of death. It was nice. For a moment, Halley could allow herself to feel relaxed. It was so… peaceful.

Wandering from village to village, she learned that she arrived to a planet called Popstar. For food, she offered protection. And when she learned the layout better, she offered guidance from place to place. There was never a real reason to protect this place as there was just an air of serenity everywhere but some folks were a little more paranoid than others.

Soon in her journey across Popstar, came across a rather squishy looking serpent. They introduced themselves as ‘Pollineocene’ but would much rather be called ‘Poli’. Going on a business spiel about what they sell -relics and artifacts-. Some Halley recognized, a few were from her planet. She gained some suspicion towards the snake. Deciding to keep a close eye on them, Halley travelled with Poli under the guise of protecting them from roadside thieves.

How did this sly serpent get their grubby claws on these?

Answers soon revealed themselves as they both reluctantly (to Halley) grew closer. While some of Poli’s relics were real, most were expertly crafted by them. Annoyed by the act of fraud, Halley scolded Poli for their trickery. Which of course went over Poli’s head. Halley started to tamper with several of their relics, so they’d break as soon as Poli tried to touch them. Revealing their ruse.

However due lack of knowledge on how real were some, there was a minor incident of possession. Poli was their to save Halley, and may or may not have learned a few things about the moth’s life.

Gaining a new sympathy for Halley and Halley gaining trust of Poli. The two soon became inseparable. Halley would never admit it but they did admire Poli’s knowledge on these artifacts. As well as perplexed on how they are able to handle them.

Poli did eventually lessen on the fraud, not so much the questionable business schemes. Halley became more and more relax, being to caught up in Popstar’s lax lifestyle and almost forgetting about Necrodeus. Almost.

Until the day comes, Halley supposes she’ll enjoy the peace, but still stay prepared for the inevitable.

TL;DR

- Halleys kind is born of stardust and flame - born to protect the living until there eventuality arrives (morpho is their god)

- Halley is trans

- Necrodeus invaded Halley’s homeplanet - sending them till war for disrupting the cycle of life and death

- Halley lost their mentor who she though of as a mom, Halley is also blamed for the death of their mentor

- Halley’s planet was lost to death

- Halley fled to popstar and met poli

- Halley waits for the day Necrodeus arrives for revenge

[nerves-nebula]

Hi! Question a out Donnie and Pasiflora. How does the generational trauma play into Pasifloras upbringing? Does Donnie going to therapy help with this? Do the turt siblings contribute to Pasifloras childhood?

Donatello has briefly been to therapy and thought it was boring and annoying and not telling him anything he didn't already know. He wasn't in therapy when he made Pasiflora but eventually started going (Again) if only to try be a better parent. he still doesn't really have a reason to live but yknow. if you can't make a will to live for yourself, storebought is fine.

Pasiflora is outgoing whereas Donnie doesn't like going OUT-side of the house lmao so it's like. dad who takes kid to the park so they have something to do but he just stands around. i dunno if he plays with them very much, he tries to indulge them but he's also just like. really tired. for no discernible reason. He makes sure Pasiflora does a lot of activities tho because he doesn't wanna keep them cooped up the way he is.

because he and krang are used to eating erratically and whenever they feel like it, they don't really instill Pasiflora with good eating habits. Once pasiflora is old enough to make their own food, Donnie probably forgets to feed them as much. oops. But on days when Donnie can't get out of bed, Krang is usually around to help, even if that help is like. weird and alien fasdfdf. (also the other turtles probably come by now and then too)

as for parenting-specific trauma, despite not taking therapy very seriously Donnie has looked into a lot of his own trauma stuff independently. he looked into parenting stuff on and off for years before making Pasiflora. So he's aware to be careful about like, punishments and physical violence and whatever.

He's also aware that he might over compensate for his dads neglect so he tries to strike a balance between Suffocating and Neglectful when it comes to letting Pasiflora have freedom & leave the house. he remembers how he could basically just leave and Splinter wouldn't care as long as he was back for training on time, and thinks that was probably bad, but also knows that over correcting would be bad too, since he had fun having the freedom to explore.

one thing he's kind of terrified about is explaining sexual stuff to Pasiflora, because he MADE Pasiflora, so he's not actually entirely sure how all of that like... works... and he doesn't wanna leave Pasiflora in the dark the way Splinter did to all of them but he's also hesitant to talk to a child about sexual reproduction cuz it makes him uncomfortable.

uhhh as for the other bros i think Donnie is hesitant to let them take care of Pasiflora at first, if only because he's unsure they've done as much research as he has into a parent (and cuz being a first time parent makes you anna do everything right)

he first trusts Raph, cuz raph works with kids i think. then he trusts leo and mikey at basically the same time. sometimes, if things are really bad mental health-wise (or if donnie is just overly stressed), Krang calls the bros in for help. usually without telling Donnie cuz Donnie doesn't want anyone thinking he's failing at being a parent afsdfsdf. And Krang is like "it's insane that a child would only be raised by one or two adults. there should at least be a whole pod in here" cuz people in Krangs culture are raised communally <- a fact I just decided while writing this

okkkk i think that's about enough.

[disasterarea-podcast]

Okay, I know I probably don’t need to explain this to all of you, but also I want to talk to *somebody* about how I wish I had the sort of pull that would let me see “Society of the Snow” before it ends up on @netflix on January 4th.

“Alive” came out when I was in high school. I was a sophomore, I think? I just know I watched it a bunch for historical reasons (disaster! Survival! Struggle!) and superficial reasons (I was sixteen and Ethan Hawke was in danger!). It was on HBO a lot back then. Or it felt that way, because I watched it every time it came on.

As per usual, I watched the movie, so I went and got the book. (I have an Audible credit, so I’m preordering the audiobook of “Society of the Snow” for work. It comes out in a couple of days, FYI.) The movie is … sanitized, to say the least. They can’t avoid the eating of the dead, or showing it on occasion. But in real life, the situation was more blatant, because … well, who are you going to hide it from? They ate everything else, or at least tried to, before resorting to the dead. And then when they did resort to the dead, they ate it ALL.

The thing is, Uruguayan culture was heavy on beef. “Alive” (the book) describes it the way the Irish depended on potatoes. Eating the dead was difficult, but as Catholics they were able to talk it out and tie it into the rosary and taking the body and blood of Christ into their own. I’m not even a Catholic anymore, but I think even my latent Catholic training might kick in just a tad to help reassure me in a situation like that if I had doubts. (Note: I have been doing this podcast for WAY too long. Survival cannibalism wouldn’t even make me bat an eye at this point.)

My point is that in the real situation, the survivors used everything. And I mean everything. There were only three or four parts of the body they couldn’t eat - I think the genitals were on that list, but don’t quote me on it - but the rest? They picked the bodies clean. They needed to. There’s a photo of the survivors sitting outside the plane, hanging out, smiling for the camera. It’s usually edited. Everything else is kept, but what is usually clipped or blurred is a very clear shot of a human spine, not a spot of meat left on it, just … lying there. It might as well be an airplane seat, or a discarded jacket, or any of the other items scattered about.

I have a tremendous amount of respect for every single one of the people who went through that ordeal. The details are traumatizing enough without having lived through it. Every time somebody makes a “rugby players eat their dead” joke, I cringe.

So here I am sitting watching “Alive” again, because fuck it. The thing is, I have a fondness for this movie based a lot on high school and watching it lots and it introducing me to a survival story I’d never heard of. But I would always be the first to point out I’d love a redo. It’s not as accurate as it could be, it’s in English, it misses out on things like Carlitos Paez’s father searching for him and the others the whole damn time and the reception after they came back.

I’m hoping “Society of the Snow” has all of the things the first movie lacked. I want to see the reception when they came back. I can’t wait to see Carlitos playing his dad, and I hope we get that moment where he reads the list of survivors over the radio and his voice breaks when he gets to his son’s name. I hope we get the reality of survival cannibalism — that it’s not murder, that it’s not pretty, that you might get a little blinded to the horror of the reality.

The trailers for “Society of the Snow” gives me hope it does the story the justice it deserves. There are so many disaster stories that, while they may have gotten TV movies, I would love to see done for the big screen. Hillsborough. The Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire. The Galveston Hurricane. The Johnstown flood. But honestly, the trailers for “Society of the Snow” look gorgeous and respectful. Let’s do more movies like this for more disasters.

[space-blue]

Ahsoka but the characters are better... The plot... everything is better.

I was talking/venting in RBs with @kanansdume on their post, and I started writing a reply that was just too long and in depth. So it's now its own post.

Offering you an alternative version of events for Ahsoka's first 4 episodes:

The cause of the break up between Hera, Ahsoka and Sabine, is Ezra.

Hera is more of a politician than a general these days, and if she sees action it's to police conflict and hunt down empire remnants. She's NOT under the impression that everyone who kept on living under the empire needs to be eradicated or whatever her deal is right now. She's busy splitting work with Jacen and not really able to help either of her friends as each would want to.

Sabine has never given up. She's still actively looking for Ezra.

Not Ahsoka. On her end, she's given up. She wrote off Ezra as a hero. She grew up watching Jedi sacrifice themselves to buy others some time or make doomed attempts to kill powerful enemies. She thinks Ezra is dead (gloriously so) and refused to indulge the fantasy that he may still be alive, driving a big wedge in her relationship with Sabine.

Until Ahsoka finds that Morgan seems to expect Thrawn to be alive… Which might mean Ezra is alive too… Just maybe.

We meet Sabine as she lands on Lothal. She isn't reckless, wasting time away in a tower like in the show. She's well dressed if rumpled and obviously drained. The moment she steps onto the space port, she's surrounded by local guards. The guy who chases her in the show is instead in full uniform waiting for her, and clearly distressed.

Did she forget what today was? That the governor asked her to attend the celebrations? She was meant to be here already, the event has even started.

Sabine brushes him off. She had no plan to come at all. She's been busy and never even opened the message requesting her presence. She's back from Coruscant, talking to the only scientist who seems to specialise in purgill, and does he have any idea how tedious it is to get useful fact out of someone who never steps out of academia? She's going home, thanks.

She gets upset when the "war hero" title is used to try and persuade her. She's trying to do war hero stuff by rescuing Ezra, thank you. Speeches and hand waving aren't for her, never were. Maybe the dialogue can hint that she used to play along, but has grown increasingly desperate in her search instead of the faff of her mostly ceremonial position.

But the guy drops a hint that convinces Sabine to get on the back of his speeder after all : her old "jedi friend" is there for the celebration. Ahsoka, who she hasn't heard from in ages!

Ahsoka would have trained Sabine for a while for saber, but they've since split and heir friendship frayed over the Ezra Lives situation. NOT because of padawan BS.

Ahsoka could also perceive Sabine's dedication to find Ezra as something worse with every year that passes. To her, it'd go from friendship to attachment, of the overly strong type. And even if Sabine isn't a Jedi, the way Anakin was, it doesn't mean that this attachment wouldn't bring some darkness.

Heck, Ahsoka could sort of wash her hands off Sabine by blaming the darkness brought by her Ezra fixation. Like this isn't her fault, no sir, it's the way Sabine is so consumed that she won't listen to reason.

Anyway, they're both here now, and though the "how have you been" is a tip toeing on eggshells exercise, Ahsoka eats some humble pie and admits she needs Sabine's help for something important.

She has tracked an artifact to a ruin, and although it's ancient, it clearly has a deep stratum. It's not just one culture that can be observed in it, but several stacked on top of each other. And one of the most recent traces of alteration are Mandalorian.

Ahsoka wouldn't solve that JFO puzzle on her own. She'd bring Sabine for her unique Mando insight. But trust would be an issue, so she'd remain super vague about what they're looking for and completely tight lip about why. Ahsoka doesn't want to kindle hopes about Ezra in Sabine of all people.

From Sabine's pov, she's doing Ahsoka a favour, and Hera asked her to please help as she's invested in this mcguffin hunt too. Sabine, by coming along, is doing that very adult thing of putting up with a shitty situation to accomodate people (the total opposite of her highway chase scene).

But even as Sabine finds the map and frees it from the old compartment it's in, they are attacked by the droids. A good old epic fight ensues, where Sabine is shown to be rusty with her saber, and rusty in general with droids, but also Ahsoka sucks at anticipating Sabine's actions, and keeps throwing orders that don't get obeyed (or can't realistically be obeyed).

In the past few years Sabine's been spending more time investigating, talking to people and reading books and buying intel, than fighting.

Not knowing what the map is for, she loses it. Does Shin come in then and wound her? Forcing Ahsoka to flee with her on the brink of death? I think it would be nice if the only reason Sabine lives is because Ahsoka was there to use a constant flow of Force healing. Not fixing her but keeping her alive as Huyang flies them away.

Because, you know, it's getting real tiresome to see people survive lightsabers to the centre of mass.

Then Sabine wakes up, she's sorry she lost the antique Ahsoka was looking for… But Hera calls in as a holo, upset with Ahsoka… And Sabine would slowly realise why. The thing she lost, nearly died over unknowingly, was a map! A map to Thrawn, and so to Ezra.

Nobody needs to be incompetent about that map thing, either, because it would be a very classic puzzle that Ahsoka could have solved. It's not old or mysterious, it was hidden in the old temple. In the show she never sees the map, and it needs to be inserted in the henge to make sense any way. Here Ahsoka didn't need Sabine's help to solve the mcguffin, but to get it. And she got it and lost it at the same time.

And now Sabine realises just WHAT it was. To Ahsoka it's a trail to Thrawn, or a clue in Morgan's plans. To Hera it's weeks of political favour wasted and hope for Thrawn and Ezra gone. Hera can't justify more spending on this without proof Morgan is up to no good.

Meanwhile Sabine sees the map as proof she's always been right. That Ezra is alive, and that Ahsoka used her and lied and kept her in the dark. Sabine would argue she'd never have engaged that rogue padawan if she knew what she was risking with the map. Ahsoka could argue back she only needed to follow her orders.

Huyang is the one who settles things between them by asking how exactly they think this argument is helping the situation? He could be the one to insist they have to stay and work together to get the map, when both Ahsoka and Sabine want nothing more than to split again.

Personality-wise Ahsoka can team work, but she needs to lead. She's used to being the most OP in the room, and grew up giving order to mostly unquestioning soldiers. Sabine has a different skillset, is pig headed, and won't take orders from Ahsoka, especially not now that she feels like she was used.

Hera and Huyang could both come in then to soothe things, and Hera would suggest they visit the other trail she's unearthed (dockyards) while the villains actively get their plan on the tracks.

At the dockyards, Hera would understand that people worked for the Empire because they didn't have a choice, and wouldn't expect people to 'get rid' of imperials after the fall of the empire. It's not exactly how that stuff happens in real life, right? It would also be interesting if Chopper FINALLY came to some use…

So I suggest that the smuggling was done by droids, and the main human mind behind this operation was the one maintening the droid fleet. Altering their codes and priorities. We could have Chop somehow help figure it out. He could also be the one who PWA PWAs at the very end that they shouldn't look so disappointed, since he managed to slap a tracker under the chest plate of that one droid he highjacked that fled on the ship.

They have their lead to that planet.

Now's a good time for Ahsoka to be able to report about Shin and Baylan's sabers instead, maybe spotting them at that place, whatever. They have no clear character or motivation and for all I care we could keep visuals of their sabers from early on when freeing Morgan.

But here's the cinch about Huyang :

He's completely out of place with Ahsoka. She doesn't have a padawan. Doesn't want one. Sabine isn't a real one and has no desire to even try to be. And any good droid could do Huyang's job, without her moaning about Jedi protocol so much.

So why does she keep him?

Huyang should be with Luke Skywalker. Wouldn't it be a little dark and sweet if it's revealed that Ahsoka has been planning to bring him over to Luke's budding school but hasn't because… (and let's forget all shit with them in Mando) well, because she doesn't believe in a New Order. She saw too many younglings killed or turned, and she doesn't trust Luke with rebuilding the Order. Doesn't really want him too.

Yet at the same time she misses it. Misses the protocols she broke with Anakin, and the life she had there as a padawan. Huyang feeds into this nostalgia. Sometimes he sounds like a master--but one she doesn't need to listen to.

She keeps pushing the time to bring him to Luke over and over.

But now Huyang could have his own motivation : Baylan has survived, and he's taken a padawan.

What was Baylan like? Why would he want to free Thrawn? Why team up with Morgan? Imo it'd be a lot more interesting if his saber was yellow or truly orange, and Shin's was blue or literally any colour but red. Make them apparently rogue Jedi and not weird darksiders larping as Taron Malicos and Merrin.

Maybe Huyang would try to push for them to be in touch. Maybe he'd want to approach Baylan himself. Because he wants to recreate the Order, right? And he's got an apprentice. And wouldn't it be a shame if they truly fell down a dark path?

So instead of Baylan being sentimental but actually not about Ahsoka staying alive, it could be Huyang who is ready to expend his kindness to even them, even after the interaction over the map. Afterall, Jedi aren't always shy about using violence to get what they want, and maybe Shin always arrives on the scene when her side is already in a fight. Maybe Huyang is on copium!

But Baylan could be seen as behaving one way, and Ahsoka could feel his vibes being rancid… VS. Huyang knowing him by reputation. Why not go on and fully rip Malicos, at this stage? You got his looks and his theories. You may as well also make Baylan a respected Jedi general. Someone Huyang remembers from his trips to make his first saber.

Now wouldn't it be neat if Chopper's tracker returns a system that Sabine recognises the name of? She was just talking to that scholar about Purgill after all, and he mentioned how this system was an important migration point, one poorly researched, because it's so remote, and at the fringes of Dathomir space, not a friendly locale.

Sadly I still don't understand WTF the map is. Why does Morgan need it? it seems ancient… And yet it points to Thrawn? HOW? Why does it go to a different henge style temple? Nothing makes sense in the show and we're meant to just accept it.

I propose something else.

The map is stored into a bog standard data storage puzzle thingy. Anyone who could handle a Japanese puzzle box could use it. But the map is just the tip of the iceberg. It's actually a nightsister spell underneath, and the entire goal is to hyper focus and pinpoint.

So Morgan 'feels Thrawn calling to her'. And yep, that's corny, but she does. And what she needed was that nightsister focus tool. She needs to wildly amplify the signal, and then use the map to pinpoint its origine totally.

She goes to that henge because it's a meditation space. It's within the Dathomir sphere of influence, but not Dathomir proper, which is why she hid the ring here. There's something about this world, the same quality that attracts the purgill, that really throws the Force into whack.

While it's good for Morgan, it'd be confusing and disturbing for any other Force user (how to nerf Ahsoka, Baylan and Shin).

Once she fully feels the location of Thrawn's call, the map zooms in and in and in. As she suspected (as she's prepared for), it's in another galaxy entirely.

Instead of having the badies split, Baylan would have to protect Morgan so she can remain in her trance as the droids help her refine the coordinates. Shin can go harry Sabine and split her and Ahsoka, who can't properly communicate due to the planet's interference.

When the women go to fight Morgan and co, perhaps Huyang would ask Ahsoka to convince Baylan to return to them. Maybe Huyang's interest in helping with Shin is also what keeps getting in the way of Sabine whenever she has an opportunity to strike to kill.

Anyway, please no fucking Anakin!!! We don't need more nostalgia bait. Stop!! Jedi canonically can't die from falls of any height so long as they've trained to cushion a fall. We see the trio take insane falls all of Clone Wars, and it's in High Republic now too. Ahsoka clipping off the world map from getting yeeted from a small cliff is sad and a pathetic excuse to show Anakin off.

Also would like to point out that with a tight script, all the events above are 2 or 3 episodes max.

What do you think? Opinions? Suggestions? It's a bit of a meta post so feel free to add on to it!

[verdantcrimson]

Heaven and Earth / Creation of Heaven and Earth - 2

(Unproofread)

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[An hour later, a discussion room in the RhythmLink office.]

Souma: Kiryu-dono, I have made some tea for you. Here.

Kuro: Thanks. I’m parched, all that studyin’ was more exhaustin’ than a workout.

Souma: Fufu. Once again, thank you for your hard work…♪

Souma: However, Hasumi-dono has been involved in discussions for quite a while now. We had merely come here to accept the job offer to host ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’.

Souma: From what I could see, he has been talking to the higher-ups with a rather terse expression.

Kuro: Maybe they’re sayin’ somethin’ like “Actually, we changed our minds, we don't wanna give you youngsters this job”.

Kuro: I’m worried about him, cause if somethin’ like that is happenin’, he’s gonna be all stubborn and pushy about it. It’d be better if we didn’t piss off the higher-ups and have them turn on us.

Kuro: I know Hasumi always has a lot on his mind, but I’d personally prefer he just drop it instead of gettin’ in trouble with the agency.

Souma: Fufu. It seems as though Kiryu-dono is truly determined not to study.

Kuro: I just don't understand people that actually like studyin’. You seem to enjoy it a bunch though, Kanzaki.

Souma: I believe that the accumulation of knowledge is similar to training one's muscles or mastery of an art.

Souma: The difference simply lies in the fact that what is being exercised is the brain, rather than the body.

Kuro: The thought of trainin’ my brain never crossed my mind, cause I never really needed it.

Kuro: But well, just like trainin’ your body, it's not really useful in today's peaceful world. Bein’ good at beatin’ people up doesn't matter in this day and age.

Souma: Umu. Neither knowledge, nor martial arts, are strictly necessary to live in the modern world.

Souma: However, that is largely the reason that grants it significance.

Souma: Which makes one wonder, would it really be ‘correct’ to simply forgo it?

Souma: Humans are the only animals on this planet with a ‘culture’. We do not subsist solely on food.

Souma: Isn't the very fact that we have lived while partaking in such unnecessary behaviors what makes humanity valuable?

Kuro: Seems like you're thinkin’ about some seriously deep stuff, Kanzaki.

Souma: Yes. And I am speaking quite seriously, so I would appreciate for you to listen seriously.

Keito: —Sorry for the delay. I had expected this to be a short and easy conversation.

Keito: There was a surprising amount of confusion and contention. How incorrigible.

Kuro: Use words an idiot can understand. Cuntenshi- What's that?

Keito: Simply put, the agency has just revealed quite a few troublesome things just now.

Keito: If we are to take on the job of hosting ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’, we have to fulfill a set of conditions presented to us—

Souma: What…? Were they not the ones that approached us in the first place? It does leave an acrid taste in one's mouth to have it be revealed to one that the job they are on the cusp of undertaking covertly has strings attached.

Kuro: I'd appreciate if ya spoke in plain Japanese for once, Kanzaki. Well, I've known ya long enough that I can pretty much understand what you're sayin’ through vibes.

Kuro: So basically, the agency is bein’ an unreasonable pain again, right?

Keito: I wouldn't necessarily call this particular case unreasonable. Since ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ is such a long-running show, there are more involved parties than in other shows.

Souma: By involved parties, you mean to say?

Keito: If I were to specify, it's that ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ is a program produced with the support and opinion of actual historians.

Keito: Which sounds about right. Since it's an educational history show, it goes without saying that they would create it with the support of major authorities in the field.

Kuro: Oh so It's like if ya wanted to open a food stall, how that territory's established yakuza gang would say “ya gotta pay a protection fee to open up shop!”

Souma: Kiryu-dono, being Kiryu-dono, often speaks in a manner difficult for me to comprehend.

Keito: You don't have to go and learn that strange Kiryu-nese (?) language.

Keito: Anyways. Though we aren't being asked to pay a ‘protection fee’ of any sort—

Keito: I was told that in order to become the hosts of this show, we had to gain the recognition of the show's advisors.

Keito: Even if we, and the agency, feel like we're up to the task, the show won't succeed unless the advisors approve of it.

Keito: They said that without their approval, the show would be unfit to air.

Keito: So that's why, we have to travel around to seek the approval of those advisors— A group of historians known as the ‘Three Sages’.

Keito: We must have these ‘Three Sages’ endorse us as suitable hosts for ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’.

Kuro: They're called the ‘Three Sages’ huh… Doesn't it sound like somethin’ from a video game or manga?

Keito: That’s a rather interesting way to put it. Well, it is similar to your standard RPG storyline. Like when they say you must collect these five crystals to restore peace in the land.

Keito: It sounds ridiculous, but this is a crucial step. It's a journey we must go on in order to reach a brighter future.

Keito: In order for our protagonists to embark on their journey, they must first be recognized as heroes by a higher power. That’s how the story goes.

Kuro: And to do that, we gotta collect proof of our heroic deeds.

Kuro: Got it. If that's what we need, let's go and get it. Sounds a whole lot more fun that bein’ stuck at a desk and groanin’ over textbooks.

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[kyber-crystal]

Okay bestie how about Christmas HCs where Obi-Wan is spending Christmas with you and your strange family ❤️

HI YES OKAY

also i'm so sorry if my writing seems off, i'm lwk rusty from not having written anything in a FAT minute. anyway enjoy some festive obi-wan!!

you and obi-wan were born on complete opposite ends of the galaxy, on different planets

this meant different cultures, different traditions, different ways of life

obi-wan doesn't remember much of his childhood—he can barely recall who his family was and only has a few fading memories of them—while you remember your loved ones in great detail

so when he hears you talk about your family and sees how your face lights up when you do, it's very bittersweet for him

now, life day (i believe this is christmas in star wars terms lol) is quickly approaching but you had been too busy throwing yourself into teaching an introductory sparring class for the younglings, along with your personal training, to realize it

if it were up to master windu's doing you wouldn't be getting as long of a break

but it's master yoda in charge here, and he grants you a long weekend to rest—which you and obi are incredibly grateful for as you've gotten a combined 6 hours of sleep in the past 3 days

(pathetic, you know...especially when it's drilled into your heads from day 1 of being in the temple that rest is the key to a happy, fulfilling life)

your family stories are always filled with lots of laughter, vibrant colors, and more love and compassion than he could even describe

so when you invite him to come to your home planet with you he's obviously excited

though outwardly he expresses how he feels a bit nervous

they've all heard about your best friend and wise master, but have never spoken to him in person

"it'll be fine, trust me! i have a big family but i promise you they're the nicest people you'll ever meet."

so he agrees, and you fly out that following morning

you can tell he's nervous as you get to the front door

so you intertwine your fingers together, giving his hand a squeeze

it's your silent way of telling him it's going to be just fine :)

and your family instantly LOVES him

of course, you're first bombarded with the classic "are you two married?" "when's the wedding?" "y/n, this is the first time you've brought a man back home!" "he's so handsome!" and whatnot

meanwhile, obi stands there with flushed cheeks...

the older women of the family—your mother, godmother, grandmothers, aunts, etc—instantly love him since he offers to help you out in the kitchen

in the meantime, you sit in the living room with your siblings, cousins, and the rest of the men

"where is the ring on your finger, y/n?" your favorite uncle asks you. he has this GIANT grin on his face and he's wearing THAT "ugly sweater" with a pink loth cat on it

ever since you got it for him, he's made it a yearly tradition to put it on at every holiday gathering

so it's hard to not laugh at first when you're trying to respond

"uncle ted, you know jedi can't get married!"

"who said you had to follow the rules?" he raises a brow at you and you laugh again

"y/n," your dad adds on, "he's right. you should be getting married soon..."

"but the jedi code!"

"it's not a crime if they don't find out, right?" your oldest cousin, cal, says

...and all the men murmur a "yep" or "touche" at that

obi wan catches part of this conversation and comes over, "who's marrying who?"

"she's marrying you!" your younger sister, layla, exclaims with a giggle

and now it's time for both you and obi to get extremely flustered

"SORRY," you quietly tell obi in your mind. "my family can get a bit...chaotic."

"it's okay, don't worry about it," and he smiles at you

while you're eating dinner, you catch him looking around the room—at your family, the eccentric decorations on the fridge and walls (courtesy of layla, cassie, and cal), the most stunning tree standing tall in the corner, the golden stockings with hand-stitched names of each cousin hung above the crackling fireplace—and your heart swells with warmth

in all his years of living so far, obi-wan has never felt so much at home as he has now, with you by his side

even amidst the chaos of the day, he tells himself he wouldn't want to be anywhere else, & he means it

later, you're making gingerbread houses together (apparently obi has never heard of this tradition before, so you take it upon yourself to teach him all about it)

but despite knowing little about it, he ends up making the best house out of everyone

you come in close at 3rd place, though you're sure your house is only one breath from falling apart

there's frosting all over your hands

and on your chin, apparently, but obi wipes it away with a quick sweep of his thumb

the longing look in both your guys' eyes doesn't go unnoticed by the rest of your family

long after everyone has gone to bed for the night, you stay by the fireplace together with glasses of warm milk on the coffee table in front of you

"you're really lucky, you know," he tells you. "to have a family you can remember and spend time with when you can."

"i really am..." you agree, "but obi-wan, you're always welcome to come over. my family loves you. i know it's only been a day but they already want you to be a part of the family."

(neither of you realize that he's taken ahold of your hand and started to gently brush over your ring finger)

and just around 4 short months later, you wake up one morning to find a sapphire ring on that exact finger

"just so you know, i'm saying yes," you squeeze his shoulder before going off to continue with the rest of your day

(how the council doesn't suspect anything, you have no idea. but you're grateful for it lmao)

ok i'm so sorry idk what i was doing with the ending there but I HOPE YOU ENJOYED &&&& merry christmas & happy holidays!!!'

tags (once again, this list hasn’t been updated in a while so apologies if it seems off haha): @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline @katelynnwrites @freeshavocadoooo @buckysbeloved @kelieah @kaleidoscope1967eyes @lam-ila @amelia-song-pond @unstablecaffeinatedmind @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @arkofblake @hellotherekenobi

[absolutebl]

BL & Critical Analysis

Pop culture critique & a how to do it... or something

This meaty question came from the lovely @huachengeye Thank you!

Codicil: I do not get paid for pop culture critique (although I once wrote book reviews professionally, long story). So I’m entirely a dilettante. 

The Question!

Q1: Can you can shed some light on your process (of critical analysis)

This is a little like training your eye to edit a document (I bet you can tell that's not one my strong points). Or training your mind to look at data and data collection in terms of the results it may yield and what the initial survey says about the questioner's bias (or can bias results).

First, I have to ask... 

Do you really want to train your eye to critique?

Because it will become a lot harder to immerse yourself in a piece of media if you constantly feel obligated to step back mentally and think about it from various perspectives. 

In other words, you may enjoy BL, or all live action dramas, LESS if you try to think about them critically.

I have an intimate who is a pretty well known writer. She mostly writes humorous fiction. She's open about the fact that this means every time she laughs, she stops and thinks about why that happened and whether is could be used in her prose. She never gets to be fully absorbed by narrative ever anymore because her critical eye is always turned on, especially for the written word.

What you may sacrifice for critique, is a certain level of childish wonder. 

I’m not sure i would necessarily advise doing this. 

My Process 

My process is essentially now visible in this blog. As I watch a show I take a few notes on it (which show up in the weeklies) and then at the end I go through those notes, consolidate, try to be witty about it, and write up a review.

The review usually has something about:

characters, tropes, plot 

narrative & story structure & pace

how this BL fits in with the greater BL genre & history

any thoughts I have on the quality of the production, acting, and/or directing 

my own personal feelings about the show

Thus my reviews tend to take into account several criteria.

For #1-2 I have a background in lit crit as an undergrad (and, like I said, I did once review books for a living) so these are kinda ingrained in me. I’m working on seeing the influence of soap operas, fan fic, and non-western story structures as critically valid, so these are the things I’m actively learning more about the most these days. 

For #3: How does this fit into the history of BL? Since I’ve made it point to watch pretty much all BLs, I feel like I’m set up to think and talk about this. AKA the spreadsheet made me do it. But since I also have anthropology in my academic history, I’m very interested in how a BL represents for its country’s BL oeuvre. I try to judge KBLs against other KBLs (and Kdramas) and look for patterns and trends in how that country’s interpretation of what it “means to be BL” shift over time. 

For #4: my IRL job is tangential to the entertainment industry so that’s accidentally trained my eye for film. I don’t know that I like this part about myself, but it’s happened whether I like it or not. And I don’t have a proper background in film critique. 

Final #5: will discuss further in a bit.

Suggestion? Establish A Rating System 

Come up with your own personal 10 star (or 5 star) rating system.

Write it down. Don’t be afraid to modify or adjust it. It’s yours, your tastes change, nothing is set in stone. 

Pick one ideal example BL for each category that you’re very familiar with for your reference point. Then you can ask yourself, after you’ve watched a new one, whether you liked it more, less, or about the same as that show. (relative rating, similar to grading on a curve) 

I change my examples regularly as my taste changes and as new BLs are added. The bar gets shifted, so to speak. 

My Rating System 

Your reasoning for rating a BL will be different from mine, but here’s mine as an example. 

(Also I never feel bound by this, sometimes I give a show a 8/10 just because it feels like that’s what it deserves.) 

10/10 - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED - my favorite precious squee!, faithful to tropes, happy ending, good chemistry, few flaws, high rewatch potential, makes me happy, examples: Semantic Error, Until We Meet Again 

9/10 ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED - loved it and good rewatch potential but probably a few pacing issues or one big flaw, still made me feel good/comforted, examples: Cherry Magic, Bad Buddy

8/10 - RECOMMENDED - some concerns around tropes (like dub con) or story structure/filming but still satisfies as BL, moved me emotionally, rewatchable in parts or not rewatchable but important, examples: Love By Chance, Between Us

7/10 - RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS - i.e. isn’t quite BL, convoluted, not strictly HEA, too short/long, and/or chemistry issues, may have impact on other BL fans but not me (or on me but not others) examples: Make it Right, KinnPorsche

6/10 - WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED - probably around the ending or in narrative structure/cohesion or censorship, disappointed expectations, unlikely to rewatch, examples: My Gear and Your Gown, Love Mechanics

5/10 - WATCH IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO - but don’t expect much, it’s a total hot mess interesting only because it's BL and I'm probubly pretty conflicted about it, examples: Advance Bravely, Even Sun

4/10 - FATALLY FLAWED - but still basically BL, however... do we want to support this kind of behaviour? examples: Precise Shot, Work from Heart

3/10 - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM WATCHING AND NEITHER DOES IT, just seriously why did this get made? examples: Blue of Winter, Physical Therapy 

2/10 - IT'S DEPRESSING - they killed/tortured/etc the gay, save yourself, examples: The Effect, HIStory 3: Make Our Days Count

1/10 - IT'S AWFUL, I WATCHED IT SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO, has all the flaws of 4-3 plus something even more egregious, personally triggering, example: My Bromance series, Round Trip to Love

dnf - self explanatory, but usually I drop because I feel like the narrative is already a #3 and/or headed for a #2 or #1 and then I’m told later that is went there, example: My Tempo

I hand out the fewest 1s & 10s. The most 8s and 7s. Everything else is pretty much on the bell curve you’d expect. 

Q2: What resources do you use to build your reviews?

I listen to a lot of pop culture review critiques in podcast form, often about stuff I'd never watch. But I like the way professionals talk about these things, even if they aren't MY things or don't jive with my personal opinions.

Mark Kermode is my favorite film critic and we like the opposite stuff, but the way he talks about film is very interesting to me. His podcast mini series on the "business of film" is probably one of my must listens. For his main podcast (Kermode & May’s Take), I always skip over all the interviews, people talking about their own films bore me to death (especially if they are actors on the promo junket, save me please). His rants are some of my favorites of all time (try Pirates 3 or Iron Man 2). Someone else’s list. 

I also like Pop Culture Happy Hour from NPR because it brings in multiple perspectives and varied cast of critics who often disagree and the "things making me happy" is a grab bag of fun.

The Bechdel Cast is a feminist critique podcast from Hollywood insiders and they do recaps as well as critique, and it's always fascinating to me to hear what people latch onto in a narrative. However, I only listen if I am already familiar with the film they are discussing.

My background is in anthropology and I've lived all over the world so that helps train me to think in terms on culture's impact on narrative as well as linguistics and so forth. As a personality I’m also quite reserved and deadpan, grumpy, stiff, strict, and kinda cold. I think I gravitate to being an observer and an outsider which helps if you want to analysis stuff. Which is not a claim to objectivity, I don't think there can be objective analysis of pop culture.

But it does make me pause to think, "that made me FEEEL something" why? What am I feeling? How did the actor do that? The script? The direction?

These shows are meant to entertain, whether they are successful or not, for me (and what "successful entertainment" means to me) and how they are doing it is the first question I always ask myself.

Q3: What are the things you look out for when watching a BL?

I ask myself a lot of things I would when looking at any piece of art. Or even when shopping for clothing or a new car or reading a book.

Did I like it? Why did I like it?

Did it move me? Why did it move me? 

Did I react? How did I react? To which bits? Why? 

What tropes and narrative beats was it using to manipulate me and my expectations? Did it meet those expectations? The promises it set up at the start? Did it fulfill the watcher-contract during the course of the narrative? 

Did the filming successfully telegraphy the journey I was meant to take? Did the actors? 

But also... would I rewatch it? Am I tempted to do so the moment it ends? For which bits?

The statistician in me wants to point out that these questions say a lot more about me and my relationship to art than it does about the art itself.

For example

Did I like it? Means... I'm motivated by pure taste and personal preference and complete subjectivity. This is in part formed by a person's background, life state, whole experience with culture and pop culture and society, family, friends. Taste is also just "that" bit. You know, that bit? Likes lemon deserts over chocolate ones, gravities to spicy food, favorite color is green, decorates with potted plants. Just my taste is my taste. I like what I like. 

Yes I have some criteria that subconsciously come into play: I look for clever story structure, subversion or manipulation of tropes, parody, not hitting any of my dislikes (like dub con). But also I have other biases impacting whether I like it (like physical appearance) which I can try to check but usually can't fix. (For example GMMTV's Gawin/Fluke looks so much like an ex of mine I really struggle with his screen presence.)

Did I like it?

The fact that this is the first question I ask myself also should tell you I'm motivated by the emotion these narratives engender. I want them to transport me and move me. I my case I want to feel comforted and satisfied and happy. The ones the make me feel discomfort, especially for too long in the narrative, I am simply going to like less. Sometimes less than I feel like I should (see my struggles with masterworks like ITSAY, YNEH, or The 8th Sense). The very BLs that most professional critics would tout as the best examples of the genre for a wider audience often turn out to be the ones I struggle with the most. (They are also, fortunately for me, the least representative of the bulk of the genre.)

In other words there is ALSO a part of me that genuinely likes and enjoys the trashy stuff. Even the trash I trash watch.

So I would advise you to come up with your own questions. Ask yourself what you want from these shows when you watch them. 

What motivates you? 

Why are you watching them at all? 

What brings you joy from an art or entertainment experience? 

What do you want them to do for you? To you?

You are going to experience them (and therefore analyze them) from this perspective whether you like it or not. So understand yourself is paramount. It's about your relationship to the art, not the art itself.

If I were to give you an assignment I would say start with one BL you really enjoyed, perhaps not your favorite but one level down. And then do one you really did not enjoy. And think about why... 

Happy analyzing! 

(source)

[singledarkshade]

Infiltration

Summary: Setting up Stargate Command and trying to find the right people, Daniel Jackson is brought in to run the archaeology department.

But is Daniel exactly who they think he is?

Author’s Note: An alternate universe that came to me, hope you enjoy.

                             ***********************************************

Part One

Jack O’Neill leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. All the files on his desk were finally in the ‘read’ pile and he was out of coffee. A knock on the door made him look up and he smiled to see his favourite person on the base standing there.

“Have you worked all night?” Sha’re’s voice was filled with concern as she took a seat across from him.

He sighed, “I needed to go through these and see who I think will work best.”

“And who will not?”

Jack nodded.

Sha’re tilted her head, he could see she was working out how to say whatever she wanted to in English, since she had only learned the language about six months ago.

“Have you made your decisions?” she asked finally.

Letting out a long sigh, Jack nodded, “Got a few new military members and I may have a few candidates for the research department.”

She smiled before asking, “Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

Jack stood and grinned, offering her his arm, “That is the best idea I’ve heard all morning.”

Chuckling, Sha’re took his arm and walked with him.

The past few months had been a bit of a whirlwind and Jack was stunned sometimes he was here. After losing his son, he’d been in such a dark place that he accepted a suicide mission which ended with him bringing home information on an alien race that took over people, a refugee who didn’t speak English and yet had knowledge that gave them access to the Stargate network and another alien who taught them that they were about to step into something so much bigger than they were.

Sha’re had lost her entire family and world but even with that loss she was thriving on Earth showing how smart she was by learning to speak a completely foreign language in such a short time. Jack had adopted her as his family, giving her a place to stay which she then took to be an invitation to interfere in his life.

He would be mad, but she helped him reconcile with Sara, meaning he was completely outnumbered.

They passed the gym where Teal’c was training with the new recruits, or as Kawalsky had put it the day before, mashing them into the mat with terrifying regularity. The once Goa’uld soldier was doing all he could to ensure his new home was able to stop them.

Walking into the commissary, Jack spotted their new astrophysicist genius, Carter sitting talking with Ferretti. Not a pairing anyone would have expected to become friends, but the two shared a love of motorcycles so had bonded that way. Her father had been the one who brought her in, although there was a lot of awkwardness any time they were in the same room, but Jack was staying away from that.

Dropping into a seat with his breakfast, Jack studied Sha’re as she concentrated in making the tea to her taste. She made him smile, it was good to see her each day walking in the world, a world she wasn’t born on when she had lost so much.

“Good morning,” Catherine Langford greeted them as she walked over to the table, “May I join you?”

“Of course,” Sha’re told the older woman.

Jack nodded, hiding his smile behind his mug. Catherine was the one who had broken the language barrier between them and Sha’re, she utterly adored the young woman which always amused Jack to watch their interactions. Sha’re loved the older woman, but he also knew she was fascinated by how old Catherine was. People in her culture didn’t live nearly as long.

“So, Colonel,” Catherine brought him back to the table, “Have you looked at the files I sent you?”

Jack shrugged, “I glanced at them.”

“He was up all night with them,” Sha’re told Catherine.

“Ruining my fun,” Jack muttered annoyed.

Sha’re smiled, amused at him. Another reason Jack liked Sha’re, since she laughed at most of his jokes,

“And?” Catherine prodded, “What do you think?”

“I think every one of them will be a useful addition,” Jack replied, “But we do need someone to run that side of the base.”

“Can someone run all that themselves?” Sha’re asked.

Jack shook his head, “We spilt research into the science teams that try to blow things up with the ones who translate the junk we find. We need a translation leader.”

Sha’re frowned, before nodding as Catherine quickly explained what Jack had actually said.

“One of your files shows promise,” Jack continued, “Three degrees and not even mid-twenties. Despite being young, it looks like he’ll be able to keep everything together.”

“And he will work with me?” Sha’re asked.

Jack tried not to grin, he loved how direct Sha’re could be at times. Not quite sure yet if it was because she was still only learning English or if it was just her nature.

“I think so,” Catherine took over, “From what I’ve learned he’s a very open person who will accept you’re not from around here. In fact, I think he’ll want to learn your language.”

Sha’re smiled warmly, “I would like to teach more people. Considering it is similar to the language the God…Goa’uld use then more people should know it.”

“I completely agree,” Catherine stated, looking at Jack directly.

Jack rolled his eyes, “It’s on my list. And Teal’c can speak it too.”

“Well,” Catherine switching the conversation back, “I will contact our possible new recruits.”

Jack finished his food and stood, “And on that note, I am going to get a few hours’ sleep before my meeting with our new General.”

He put his tray back before leaning over to Sha’re, “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded.

Heading out Jack yawned slightly, setting up a new base was bad enough under normal circumstance, under these it felt almost impossible.

He just hoped these recruits Catherine was going to recruit would take a load off of him.

                             *********************************************

He stepped into the office wondering what his next assignment would be, where it would take him, and what his name would be next time. He was used to being no one and anyone these days, a man who could fit into any world the people he worked for wanted him to. He pushed his hand through his long hair, wishing he’d had a chance to get it cut after finishing his assignment as it made him look less professional than he liked in front of his superiors.

“Good morning,” Agent Smith stated, walking into the room and motioning him to sit, “You have a new assignment, and it is one that will be long term.”

“Long term?” he asked intrigued, “I’ve never been given one before.”

Smith nodded, “True but the nature of this mission means that you will be required to remain there for months, maybe years, and your qualifications make you the ideal candidate. We need you to keep us apprised of what they’re doing and pass possible weapons or power sources along with relevant information that you come across.”

Opening the file in front of him to learn his new identity and mission, he paused in confusion.

“I’m using my real name?”

“Yes, Dr Jackson,” Smith stated, “Your history, parentage as well as your official skill set mean that there was no need to create a background for you.”

Daniel paused; it had been many years since he’d used his own name anywhere outside Agency walls. Part of him was ecstatic as he hadn’t been known as himself for a long time, but the other part was concerned over what would happen when his assignment ended as well as how long it was expected to last.

“Firstly, you will accept the job offer that you will receive,” Smith explained to him, “Next, we want you to get close to certain members of the base.”

Daniel picked up the first file just to the side of the main one and opened it.

“Colonel Jonathan ‘Jack’ O’Neill,” he read, “Seems quite basic military.”

“Normally I would agree, but his actions in the mission which means this base exists are out of the ordinary,” Smith told him, “However, it has been less than a year since his son died, killed by O’Neill’s own gun.”

“Damn,” Daniel muttered.

“You have a slight resemblance to the boy,” Smith continued, “Which is why you will not be getting a haircut prior to this mission,” he told him, “You know how to act in order to get someone like him to befriend you and we have acquired home videos of the child for you to adopt certain mannerisms.”

Daniel nodded, “Of course. Who else?”

Picking up the next file, Daniel opened it to see a blonde woman looking out at him.

“Captain Samantha Carter,” Smith told him, “Daughter of General Jacob Carter who is part of the base yet does not currently appear to be part of the command structure. She is an astrophysicist, one of the best there is. You can either seduce or befriend, your choice but she was engaged briefly that she ended very recently, so a romantic entanglement might take a while depending on whether or not she is being cautious.”

“Okay,” Daniel replied, “And finally,” he picked up the last file and opened it to photograph of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Even in the grainy CCTV photograph he could see fine features, big eyes with long dark lashes and long dark curly hair that framed her face.

“Sorry, sir you were saying,” Daniel realised he’d missed information.

Smith frowned, “I said her name is Cheri or something like that, we have no information where she is from or what she does on the base. She speaks little English we’ve been told but is living with O’Neill and his wife. I’m guessing she might be a better target for your seduction play.”

Daniel tried to shrug nonchalantly, “Possibly. I learn languages faster than most people; it could come in handy to get to know her.”

“Only choose one to seduce,” Smith told him sternly, “This is a small place, so you need to not only fit in but be liked.”

Daniel shrugged, “I can do that, it looks interesting what they’re doing.”

“Just stay focussed on your job, Agent Jackson,” Smith stated, stressing his connection to the Agency, “We don’t want to have to remind you where your loyalties lie.”

Bristling slightly, Daniel forced himself to reply in a steady voice, “You won’t have to.”

Smith nodded, “Excellent. Dr Catherine Langford will be visiting you in Chicago tomorrow afternoon, she was intrigued after she found some unpublished theories you have that she feels relates to whatever the base is doing.”

Daniel flipped through the main file to read over the information on who he was supposed to be and frowned.

“These are my theories,” he breathed before noting, “Which I was never allowed to publish.”

Smith tilted his head slightly, “And they are finally useful.”

Without another word, Smith left the room. Daniel picked up the files and moved to a small office to study the information he’d been given. He was not allowed to take any of it with him, but instead had to memorise it all. Which wasn’t a problem as he had such a good memory.

Daniel had been doing things like this since he turned fourteen and was recruited by the Agency. He’d been trained to fight, to shoot, to kill, to infiltrate, to seduce, to be anyone that was needed and to be completely loyal to the Agency.

And he was.

They’d saved him from an abusive foster home, where he’d been beaten so badly once he nearly died from internal bleeding, and gave him something to believe in, something to work for. He knew that he was being given this assignment because he was the best person for it. It would also be nice to be called by his real name for once.

His only annoyance at the assignment was he couldn’t cut his hair and would have to leave it like this for a while at least.

                             *********************************************

Catherine walked through the corridors of the university trying to find the office of the man she was hoping to recruit. She’d been surprised to learn that he was the son of her two old friends, friends who had died while she was out of the country, and she’d not been able to find their child.

Now, all these years later just when she needed him, here he was.

Reaching the small office, she looked inside and saw the young man hunched over the desk reading what looked like a manuscript in an office that was filled with textbooks and artifacts. The sun through the small crack in curtains was hitting the man’s back, showing the blond highlights in his light brown hair.

She knocked on the door and he turned to her, showing off clear blue eyes under glasses.

“Can I help you?” he asked, blinking slightly in the light.

“Dr Jackson,” she smiled, “I’m Catherine Langford.”

He mused for a moment, “You’re not one of my students,” he winced, “Not saying you couldn’t be,” he quickly continued, “It’s just more like I would notice you since you look like you’d want to be there. I’m sorry,” he stopped himself rambling, “What can I do for you?”

Catherine chuckled softly at him, “It is good to see you again. I’m guessing you don’t remember me, but I knew your parents. I spent several weeks working with them the summer before they passed away.”

He blinked at her, “You did? Sorry, but I remember very little of the people from that time other than them. Why are you here now?”

She smiled before explaining, “I am here to speak to you about a job. I know you have one, but this is one that is connected to the theories you didn’t publish.”

He leaned back intrigued but also looking defensive, “How did you get a hold of them?”

“I have friends,” Catherine replied mysteriously, “I can’t explain what we do yet, but I’m inviting you to the most interesting job interview you will ever have.”

He chewed his lip for a moment, “I’m not sure…”

“Or you could stay here and teach kids who don’t want to learn,” Catherine told him.

Sighing he replied, “That is a good point.”

“I promise you that it will be worth it,” Catherine said, “What do you say?”

She watched the indecision cover his face and finally he let out a sigh, “You’re good. I will be there.”

Catherine smiled, “Then I will see you tomorrow morning at nine am. A car will pick you up at your apartment, please make sure you pack a bag.”

~

Daniel watched the older woman leave the office, waiting until he was sure she was far enough away before he let out a relieved sigh. He knew he couldn’t be too interested in the job she was offering. The one thing that had thrown him was Daniel hadn’t realised that she had known his parents, it hadn’t been anywhere in the file. He hadn’t been lying about not really remembering anyone outside of his parents from that time, and as he thought back, he did vaguely remember a young woman who had been at one of their digs with the name Catherine.

Leaving the office, Daniel headed to the small apartment they’d put him up for the night so he could reread the files before he headed to Colorado in the morning.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he had studied the CCTV photo of the dark-haired woman multiple times. But if anyone did notice and ask it was just to see if he could work out who she could, there was no other reason.

Putting away everything so that when the Agency clean-up team arrived the next morning it would be removed, Daniel made sure he had a bag packed before he lay down to get some sleep.

His new mission started tomorrow, and he had to be prepared for it.

~

The journey to Cheyenne Mountain had been quiet and without incident which meant Daniel could relax during it. Langford thankfully didn’t try to engage him in conversation, instead leaving him to his thoughts while she worked.

Finally reaching the mountain, Daniel followed her out and asked, “What are we doing here? Isn’t this NORAD?”

She gave him a mysterious smile, “You’ll see.”

Following her into the base, Daniel accepted the temporary pass he was given and signed his name about a dozen times. Relieved he’d practiced doing so to ensure it was natural.

They entered an elevator which went down before getting out and getting into another one to go even further down.

Daniel wanted to ask what was happening but knew he wouldn’t get an answer. Finally, they reached their destination, and he followed the woman into a meeting room. There was a large table in the middle with what looked like comfortable chairs. There was an office on his left and to his right a large window which had a cover over it.

“Take a seat,” Catherine told him.

Pulling back the one on his side closest to the large window, Daniel leaned back waiting with interest.

Catherine placed a load of paper in front of him with a pen, “All you have to do is sign this and I can explain why you’re here.”

Daniel stared at it for several moments, then flipped through the pages. Once he’d finished speed reading, he then stood and paced the room for a few seconds. Turning to Catherine, he saw she was sitting just waiting for him to make his decision.

Finally, Daniel sat back down again and signed the final page.

“Welcome to Stargate Command, Dr Jackson,” Catherine told him, “Since you’ve signed the NDA then I can explain why we’ve asked you here.”

Daniel sat and listened, his mouth opening in surprise as she explained exactly what he was here for and, despite his experiences since he joined the Agency, hearing that the theories he’d had and never been allowed to explore were right sparked something inside him that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“What do you think, Dr Jackson?” Catherine asked.

Daniel stared at her before asking sincerely, “You’re serious?”

She laughed, “Yes, completely. We want you to run the archaeological teams dealing with any artefacts that are brought back and deciphering anything found. Like this.”

Daniel looked at the photograph in front of him and frowned, “These are Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.”

“Can you pronounce it?” Catherine asked.

Frowning, Daniel replied, “This hasn’t been a living, spoken language in thousands of years. If I even tried, then it would be a variation at best. I can translate it into English.”

Catherine smiled, “No need for that.”

“It says,” a new voice came with slightly accented English, making Daniel turn to see the woman from the CCTV picture he’s been studying in person. She was beautiful in the grainy photograph, but in person, Daniel was struck speechless at her golden skin, fine features, big brown eyes and long black hair, “That the sun god in the sky, protects his people from all that may harm them.”

“It does,” Daniel agreed confused who she was.

“But it is a lie,” the woman stated sadly, “The sun god was nothing more than a story and destroyed, didn’t protect.”

Catherine reached out and squeezed the young woman’s arm, “Daniel Jackson, this is Sha’re.”

Not Cheri, he noted which didn’t surprise him that Smith had got the pronunciation of her name wrong.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Daniel said.

Sha’re gave him a smile and he was dazzled in a way he’d not felt before.

Catherine’s voice intruded on his thoughts, “Sha’re is our current expert on the Goa’uld, she will be acting as your aide, as well as the go-between for your department with the military heads.”

“Hold on,” Daniel said, a little annoyed and not acting even though he was meant to get close to Sha’re during his time here, “Don’t I get to choose my staff?”

Catherine nodded, “All except for Sha’re. Trust me, you will be grateful for her assistance.”

“What makes you the expert?” Daniel couldn’t stop himself from asking.

Sadness covered Sha’re’s face, and he suddenly wanted to apologise. In fact, he wanted to drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness, which confused the hell out of him.

“I am from Abydos,” she explained softly, not giving away in her voice the pain clear to see in her eyes, “I was raised to think Ra was a god, but I helped fight him instead.”

Catherine moved to the younger woman and wrapped an arm around her, “Sha’re lost her entire world to the Goa’uld, but she is here to stop the creature that took it from her and the others who make other worlds believe them to be gods.”

Daniel was stunned, the information they had on her was only six months old which meant that this must have all happened only a few months ago.

“So, Dr Jackson,” Catherine spoke again, “Are you ready to start?”

Knowing he had no choice anyway since the Agency wanted him in the base, Daniel nodded, “Yes.”

“Then Sha’re will show you to your office,” Catherine smiled, “And I will see you later.”

Daniel watched Catherine leave the room before turning to the other woman.

“Please follow me, Dr Jackson,” she said sweetly.

“Daniel,” he told her,

Sha’re turned to him, “What?”

“Please call me Daniel,” he told her, “If we’re working together, it’ll be easier.”

“Of course, Dan’iel,” her accent came out on his name and Daniel felt his stomach flip slightly.

As he followed her out the conference room, Daniel for the first time in a long time felt conflicted about working for the Agency.

He shook himself knowing he had no choice; he would just have to make sure that Sha’re wasn’t hurt when the time came for him to leave.