#i need to be caught off guard starting a new ep and just hearing his voice please

[buttrflyisland]

its been almost 5 years since mudstone abyss came out which is the last time our boy kevin has been in the podcast. this is an injustice

[popculturebuffet]

Thomas the Tank Engine Retrospective: Shining Time Station 4-Pack: All Hail Schemer (Commission for Lachey V)

Hello all you happy schemer's and welcome back to my seemingly bottomless Thomas the Tank Engine Retrospective. This month my mounting workload means we're doubling up as we approach the season finale of sorts for this retrospective, Thomas's first and so far only theatrical film, Thomas and the Magic Railroad.

Before we can do that though, I needed a crash course on a bit of Thomas lore I hadn't touched. So it's my utmost pleasure to introduce, reintroduce or just plane fling at you Shining Time Station. Shining Time Station was the Britt Alcroft companie's way of putting Thomas The Tank Engine in the US at first. While the show was a great kids show and merchandise machine, it had one problem: each ep was 5 minutes at most and while this wasn't a remote problem for the booming home video market, putting it on tv was tricky. While UK tv stations were more than happy to either make 15 minute block of a few episodes or air it between shows, US stations at the time really didn't like carving up their air time like that. Simplier times.

Hence shining time station, a whole ass live action show featuring puppets, live action music videos, and wraparounds. Shining Time follows a bunch of interchangable kids: White BLonde Kid, future Sapphire Erica Luttrel, and other one as they mill around a train station learning life lesssons. Around the station are Stacey(Didi Cohn) , the station's manager, Billy Two-Feathers (Tom Jackson) , who runs the workshop, and Mr. Conductor, the tiny man who lives inside the station. If that sounds jarring it absolutely is as I assumed when I heard about the character he was a regular conductor who simply had magical powers. Still a little weird but like... not as jarring as when you see a Tiny George Carlin. For the record, and I missed this on first watch, the other two adults are aware of him to the point it feels like Mr. C is watching the kids half the time so the other adults can do their jobs. And i'm okay with this as there are so many kids shows where they hide the magic and I assumed this is one. I prefer it that the adults just know, smile along with it and let the tiny magic man help pick up the slack. Mr Conductor was played by Ringo Starr in the first season but since we were only doing a small selction of episodes, Lachey decided

For constancy since a chunk of the cast changes between seasons 1 and 2, and because Season 1 apparently has an ongoing story. So instead George Carlin is our tiny magic man for this special.

Of course there's one other regular in the station who deserved his own section, a man above men. A god above god. A schemer above schemers. The Robbie Rotten of the 90's I present to you HORACE MOTHERFUCKING SCHEMER.

Scheme is a schyster who runs a small Penny arcade over in the corner. WHy he's running an old timey style arcade in the 1980s I don't know but his real passion is various scams of the week, sometimes recurting the kids and eating every inch of scenery while making every minute he's on screen a joy. He's played by Brian O Conner, is somehow not in the movie, and is the best thing that's ever existed. All hail our new god.

Anyways since Shining Time Station is important to the film, we're taking a look at 4 episodes of Lachey's Choice from seasons 2 and 3: Win Loose or Draw, Sweet and Sour, Do I hear and Billy's Party. So join me for train station antics, drawing contests, talking pianos, child explotation, elvis, crooked auctions, and thanksgiving under the cut.

Win Lose or Draw

My first episode.. and going in pretty much blind aside from "this show is a vehicle for Thomas the tank engine". So the werid shit in this series.. caught me off guard as the episode starts with a pretty simple kids show teaching a lesson predicament: the local wise old man from the general store, who I assumed would be more important but is only in one of these 4 episodes, drops off art suplies for a contest and other girl is bummed that Erica Luttrel is better than her at art. We also meet Schemer whose mad the kids are getting paper everywhere and not spending money on his old timey arcade. Is.. is Schemer a time lord? Is he our time lord and savior? This series apparently takes place in the present, but has a penny arcade. Maybe shining times' just really old. Maybe i'm just really old and this series is old even for me, it's only.. four years older than me.

Okay moving past the exestial dread, point is Schemer is great and even off to the side for this one he's a lot of fun.

So Other Girl gets a visit from the Conductor.. who as a refresher is super tiny. Yeah I meant what I said about it being jarring: I had NO idea the Conductor was tiny sized in our world. Once you get used to it it's not that weird: he can travel to other dimensions his size and thus is the size of one of the people in thomas' world, hence how he can tell their stories. Makes sense. But suddenly being ambushed with a tiny george left me asking

Now I get he's just a tiny magic man who lives in the station and watches over these kids alongside the other two main adults and who said adults know exists and are cool with it. And honestly i'd be cool with having George Carlin hang around and despense advice to children too. Who wouldn't. It's like Thomas, it's weird at first but then you just embrace how weird this is and move on.

I do like HOW mr conductor is used. Carlin is clearly having a ball and is a shockingly fantastic children's entertainer, not just good at narrating the thomas segments but at interacting with the child actors and feeling truly like some otherworldly pixie train conductor man. He's really good at this and it's fun to watch.

As for the Thomas segments .. I won't be covering MOST of them again. I didn't skip them as Lachey made the valid point that while I had seen these eps, I hadn't seen them with the george carlin narration. George is really good at the job, easily equiling Michael over in the UK.

It's just.. i've covered these stories. WIth the exception of the one for our final episode today, there's no big diffrence story wise and performance wise Carlin also does the "everyone but Gordon gets about the same voice" thing the other narrators pre baldwin did. Harold also gets an upper class rich person voice

It is nice to get confrmation that Carlin was really good at both jobs, and it was a neat treat.. but there's just nothing really new to add here. The shorts featured are good. There's only one exception, a really weird one, and we're saving that for last. So good shorts as they were before, simply don't have anything new to add for the Carlin Cuts.

So Other Girl asks George Carlin to use his magical powers to help her win the art contest.

What I like though is that the lesson isn't the usual "Oh you shouldn't cheat in competition" aseop. it's a valid one but most kids shows across demographics have done it. Fairly Odd Parents even has it as one of Da Rules.

The real lesson is "it's more fufilling to work hard at something and get better yourself instead of comparing yourself to other people and how good they are". It's a lesson kids really need.. a lesson I honestly needed and maybe I would've kept drawing. You may never be as good as some but doing it is still fun. Just do your art and improvment for you and don't take easy shortcuts. The latter.. is super relevant given the rise of AI and people using it as a shortcut instead of a tool to help them create better work. It becomes about replacing other artists instead of helping artists grow.

Other girl isn't the only one to learn this lesson as one of the jukebox performers learned it. Oh did I mention there' sa jukebox full of magical puppets straight out of pee wee's playhouse who play a song once an episode? Because Lachey sure didn't

So yeah another jarring bit but one I like. I fucking love pee wee's playhouse, so seeing this old style of puppetry again warms my heart. The story is clever too: As a boy the puppet's band leader practiced piano but didn't feel good at it. Turned out the piano didn't and was also alive and thus played the songs for him. Eventually though the boy missed trying himself and the piano concided he was getting better. It's a heartwarming story about not letting sentient insturments play for you that's once again an accidental metaphor for AI somehow.

So she submits her picture instead and unsuprisingly this is what George Carlin hoped would happen. Erica Luttrel wins but they liked something about other girls so she wins a prize.

But enough about children what's SCHEMER been up to: Well he wanted to win, and Billy said his new ink was like magic so he just casually stole it.. only to accidently send a blank picture. We also get a great bit of schemer using a mirror to take a self portrait since no one wanted to draw his face less they summon another schemer into the world. such is the price of such one of a king beauty. Billy chases him and presumibly pummels him, episode over.

Sweet and Sour

So stop me if you've heard this one: a corrupt older man approaches a kid (or kids) with a lemonade stand, offers to be their partner, then finds ways to ruin the place while screwing their new partner over.

Yeah my thoughts exactly.. to my shock the Boondocks episdoe "The Block is Hot"... is a clear remake of the Shining Time Station Episode "Sweet and Sour". Or at least conceptually. After the partnership part both take diffrent paths: Ed Wuncler overworks poor jasmine and cons her parents, while Schemer brings in his nephew Schemee, whose just as hammy at half the size , such a great child actor I swear the two have perfect chemistry and he gets Brian O'Connor's manerisims down perfectly, who cuts production costs, lowers quality and generally ruins the place.

Yet weirdly despite the gaps in when they were made, medium and one being aimed at adults and the other at the childrenest of children, they BOTH have valid advice abotu the economy. For the Block Is Hot, it's how Corporations take advantage of people or buisnesses and will work people to death no matter the age to get as much profit as possible while convincing you their not. It's an episode I don't go back to often for a reason as , while incredibly good at this lesson it's VERY hard to watch, especailly since, resliastically, ed gets away with all of it.

In contrast, the kids learn the equally valuable lesson of not putting profits over quality: how people WILL suck up with bad quality stuff in a pinch once.. but will eventually choose something better.. if it's the same price but hey i'm not expecting a show amed at younger kids to be fully honest about how fucked economics are. I'm just impressed an episode from the early 90's packed that in.

BOth have the lesson of "don't quickly make a deal with someone for the wrong reasons'. For Jasmne she simply trusted the wrong person, something hard not to do and that the episode dosen't blame her for. For the kids.. they KNOW Schemer is bad and when he offers a partnership after seeing them sell cookies to a high class lady, their first reaction is

But they take the deal because he offers a lot of money.. and for once Schemer isn't lying: Schemee's methods do improve things. I also love these two together; Schemer is super supportive of his nephew, is proud when Schemee sells cookie sso bad hteir returned so they can sell them again (Sadly a tactic i'm sure has actually been used), and shows the kid genuine pride and affection I wasn't sure he was capable of showing anyone or anything that wasn't acitvely making him money. I mean he's happy to see him BEFORE he starts cutting corners like a shady man in a gloriously tacky suit.

They then learn the hard way they screwed up as not only ar ebilly and didi not impressed with their new lemonade and cookies, but when they try to complain Schmeer outright steals the buisness. Granted most buisnesses can't be stolen with a "no butts" clause, but Scheemer is dealing with small children not the ftc... this time.

My only beef with this episode is that while the lesson is good.. the adults blame the kids fo rbeing conned by schemer. They did screw up a bit as they knew he was trouble when he walked in, but did the deal anyway.. but loosing their buisness.. was him outright conning them. I get them learning a lesson but you still have to remember these are children IN your care you let be around scheemer unsupervised. And all George Carlin did was vaugely advise them the deal was bad and let them vent later. I get George Carlin can't talk to Scheemer as he dosen't know he exists, Lachey clarified that for me, and if he did he'd of course be constantly harassing the poor miniture george carlin or try to capture him to get his pot of gold. And look I know he's not a leprechaun, you know that, but it's fair to assume Schemer dosen't know his ass from his elbow let alone that george carlin isn't a leprechaun.. mostly because WE don't know that George Carlin, in this series, isn't a leprechaun. I checked the series wiki it just says he's 18 inches tall. He could be a leprechaun, a beyonder, a bit sized timelord, we really DON'T know.

Point is they fucked up too, but they do make up for it as they point out the kids still have a fuckton of lemons they got in the buisness divorce and the kids have a creative solution: ther'es so many things they can make with lemons with Stacy's help they make everything but lemonade.. and quickly gain buisness when Schemer is ineveitbly bit in the ass by karma, i.e the ladies lunchone he was catering boycotting him till he closes up and gladly taking the kids buisness. Happy end for all. A really fun episode with a shockingly timeless moral. Good stuff.

Do I hear

Do I Hear is a decent episode, with a far less clear lesson. it doe shave a random ass music video about some kids little brother destroying anything

I did find out from this shining time ocasionally does music videos with stock footage but like everything else int his series it's a lot to take out of context.

Anyways this one has Elvis show up as a jukebox repair man.

Yeah so backing up the Station is closed for the day but the kids decide to stay behind while Mr Conductor apparently can't do more than just.. tell the kids Billy and Stacy probably had a reason to shut it down.

Naturally Schemer is still here and finds a fake nickle in one of his machines and is pissed.. till he realizes he can use it to get his revenge. So it turns out Schemer has a rivarly with the magical jukebox, which is the least suprising thign in these four episodes. Wha'ts hilarous is that in any other series this would just be a fun rivarly with an inanimate object, like Luke Cage and his coffe machine, or Mr. Parker and his boiler.

Here? The puppets in the jukebox hate schemer.. and given what we've seen of him and how he talks shit about their home and them by comparison regularly, you side with the magic jukebox. So when he tries to use the nickel on them.. they fake being broken.

What intrests me is I thought i knew where the episode was going... after Schemer dicks around on top of a jukebox because Brian O Conner is the best. HE calls a repair man , and I assumed the puppets were either going to be outed, the kids or conductor would have to protect them something. But no the kids don't know and the jukebox repairman.. is elvis.

Yeah they got an actor who honestly looks a lot like the king in his younger days, acts like him and is implied to be him. Either Elivs regenerated into a younger body, cloned himself or simply is reborn every time he dies kenny mcormick styles and rapidly ages. All possible possibly all at once. The lore of his series is rife for fan theory. Send me your own Schemer, Mr Conductor and Reborn Elvis fan theories people!

So turns out Elvis knows the magical puppets exist and tells them to play cool. He then gives Schemer a bill for 11 dollars, who naturally reacts like a mature responsible adult paying for something be broke

So he goes with plan B: have an auction. Naturally this being schemer he auctions anything and everything in the place, and the kids realize "shit we acccidently encouraged him" and try to stop this. Thankfully, while they can't reach Billy, Elvis comes back to save the day. At this point i'm at a loss for jokes.

Schemer even accidently blocks Mr Conductors way into his house.. because he lives here now I guess. Like I said you can write your own lore, mine is that it's the exact layout of snoopy's dog house pre fire. Anyways Billy and Stacy put a stop to this nonsense and instead of arresting schemer just.. scare him off. Though hilarously, and predictably his method of hiding is just.. crouching in front of the banister, which has a railing so they can see him and hoping they forget it. THey also lay into the kids.. again.. even though this time all they did was stay behind. The Schemer shit was ENTIRELY him they just accidently gave him an idea.

The puppets play elvis a song, Mr conductor talks to billy and this episode.. was fine. Not great, but it had some godo schemer acting here and there, the moral is just all kinds of confused.. but it's also hard to hate an episode that has a magical elvis and schemer hanging onto a jukebox for dear life so still good stuff.

Billy's Party

Our final episode for this batch, Billy's Party is a thanksgiving episode, as you can tell by PIlgrim Schemer showing his penis size up there. It's not a terrible idea for the setting either: A train station is giong to be super busy and the episode focuses on railroad tradition in thanksgiving instead of The Pilgrims and the various native tribes

Don't get me wrong, i'd ENTIRELY be up for an episode about Billy's heritage, and the fact the show had a native american main character but did nothign steroptical with him is magical. But I did not remotely trust a 90's tv show to do the story of thanksgiving in a way that wasn't either whitewashing it like I got as a kid, or just plain insulting.

So instead they sidestep it, going into what modern thanksgiving means. And who better to tell us about thanksgiving than thomas the tank engine? Now if you read through my sometimes breif sometimes downright insane thomas reviews, you'll know seasons 1-5.. didn't HAVE a thanksgiving episode. That's not really a thing in the UK, so it's not a thing that exists in a british show about trains.

So rather than just.. find an episode that fit the themes of togetherness.. theyt urned one of the christmas episodes into a thanksgiving episode. Which itself isn't a TERRIBLE idea; both are holidays with lots of travel, and the only real crack is there's tons of mail as that's more a christmas thing.. but then the ending has a fucking christmas tree and i'm just like.. guys. I know you couldn't edit it out but why did you pick one specifically with a christmas tree. Christmas isn't after thanksgiving. Don't start that shit with me Thomas the Tnak Engine.

While the thomas part is sloppy.. the rest... is incredibly well handled: the puppets have thanksgiving and invite a turkey over and in a nice subversion of the "oh you brought a turkey don't kill it" type of stories we get a lot, even Brooklyn 99 good as it was wasn't immune to doing one of these and also lampshading how stupid Charles was for bringing a bird to live kill on thanksgiving day to someone elses house so it worked, their just serving veggies. The turkey is a guest and a rad dude.

As for hte main part the kids wonder why they should give a shit, and Billy is trying to get to his party with , and i'm just quoting it "the yardees and the hobos". I will refer to them as the train workers and homless persons, this was 1993 after all, but it is fun to see them use the terrible h word so casually.

Turns out Billy has nowhere to go unlike the rest of the cast, but was picked to join the rest of the train people. The origin of said meal is also neat: a long time ago they were nemies, the train people not liking hitching passnegers and the homless persons not liking being kicked off their only transportation and sometimes home. But one day a signal didn't get put up in time to switch tracks so the homless persons in the area all rallied to make sure the train didn't crash, and the two sides made peace, having thanksgiving together every year as their the only two groups whose schedules synch up.

Billy ends up not being able to come as disasters keep popping up: they need a train fixed to meet demand, one of the various guests can't reach her apointment so Billy drives her, and Schemer ends up stuck on a train as part of his scam to make the holiday about giving him stuff. If that sounds underwhleming it is. I expect better and stupider from you scheemer. What a disapointing end.

bIlly is left alone.. only for the natural conculsion of everyone coming back to celebrate, including Schemer whose greatful. It's a genuinely heartwarming ending. Why the kidsa re here I don't know, I assume their parents don't exist. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY.

This episode wasn't as fun without schedmer at full blast but it's still a REALLY good thanksgiving episode with some intresting ideas, and a fantastic finale.

overally I REALLY loved Shining Time Station, continuting the tradition of any thomas spinoff being better than the source thus far. It's fun, has great performances and I will be coming back here somedya on my own or if lachey wants. or if any of you want feel free to comission it .

Next Time: THE MOVIE THAT ENDED AN EMPIRE.

[eshtaresht]

aaaaaaaa this episode.... it caught me off guard, I have lots of feelings and hopefully a couple of coherent thoughts

SPOILERS FOR EP 8 UNDER THE CUT

tbh I'm really excited about the changes (to the manga) they introduced in this episode, I like the direction so far

turns out vash and naï had different abilities from the start, and it's quite likely that vash felt lesser that his twin even during their time with rem (naï says that making food for him is "a waste" and vash uses the same sentiment when he was rescued). I'm guessing that vash's ability is to give away energy (but he's not self sustaining), while knives can only take from others (but he's eco friendly), which was already touched upon in previous iterations, but very briefly

plant lore! one of the things I didn't like about og anime is how vague all the plant stuff was, I had to read the fandom wiki to understand what they were. very based of stampede to go all hard sci-fi on us

the way vash refuses himself basic needs when he feels guilty.... and how this continues well into his adulthood.... his ass is not coping!!!

sequences after the fall were the most emotional, man! my boy vash got so much trauma from seeing all the dead and dying and feeling like it's all his fault... give him a hug now!!!!! but at the same time he actually was complicit and daaamn I can't wait to hear the full story there

idk if I got the vibe right (maybe subs were a bit misleading), but luida made up that rem saved them? it seemed as if she only said it to give vash a reason to live, and it's partially true (rem did try her best to save everyone), but ship three and a bunch of others survived mostly because they were lucky and not because rem managed to break the code. please correct me if I got it wrong. although I kinda dig the idea of vash glorifying rem while she was just as helpless as any other human in this situation

hair darkening confirmed... we were right to be worried all along. it's interesting that even in the earliest flashbacks he already has darkish eyebrows, hmm... what did this kid do? 👀

once again, wish there were more side characters, but luida and brad were pretty wholesome. wonder is they're still alive and how old is vash in this version (probably younger than 100 if luida is alive)

a bit sad that we didn't get to see the gang interacting while vash was blacked out, I was really looking into it. but at least we saw him with that clunky shoulder piece removed. from the teaser it seems like his new hand won't be all that different tho

love all the slutty outfits people were theorising about.... but that turtleneck? yep thats peak slut fashion and transmask swag. nothing will ever top the manga version but I still support it

next episode is gonna kill me.... and something tells me that the time vash spent unconcious is gonna be all the rest he gets. DAMN. still manifesting scar reveal

now to predictions: after ep 6 I thought that we'll visit the seeds ppl this time around and we kinda did, I just didn't expect for a flashback to last a whole episode and more. ep 9 is pretty obvious from the teaser and in 11 vash should already be in july so that the season finale can happen in at least two episodes. then 10 is probably gonna be all about getting to this final destination. could be that the gang gets separated by that time ('cause vash will push them away), but they'll all still be in july when shit hits the fan

[3rddimension]

Ok, hear me out...

I don't want to speculate too much, but sometimes my brain has the tendency to do as such. I recently rewatched the Why were bad at dating - psychic vid and something sprung into my mind.

At the very end of Courtney's reading, the psychic told her that someone in the industry was going to give her, her first child. Now, before this train starts careening into speculation station, I just want to point out this is nothing more than a theory👍

Flash foward/rewind to Smoshmouth ep.27, were Shayne, Courtney, and Amanda are giving their predictions for the new year. @57:53, Amanda brings up the notion of a Smosh baby announcement. Like Shayne and Courtney, I too was caught off guard. Not that it was anything bad, but just a real suprise to hear, because didn't Brittany divulge that she had recently given birth during the crew TNTL last year?

So, it seems like it would probably be a cast baby, imo, right? Out of everybody on the cast who is in a relationship that we know of, it boils down to👇

° Amanda

° Arasha

° Anthony

° Noah

° Olivia

If I may, I know they aren't cast anymore, but my wildcard would probably be Kimmy. Everybody always busts Amanda's chops about being a mom, but I feel like Kimmy does that as well, they are both very attentive and nurturing😊

Now, back to the not so subtle elephant in the room. I'm looking at our two resident blondes at the table. I'm not saying by any means that they need to or have eluded to this fact before, I just find it ironic that Amanda of all people had this prediction, with them on the podcast. Given she read Shayne's tarot cards on ep.2, it just made me start thinking🤔

There is a post I recently saw @winterxgardener reblog and it highlighted the whole theory about Shayne and Courtney soft launching their relationship, right before Ian and Anthony bought Smosh back.

Again, not trying to manifest anything whatsoever. Just with everything that has been floating around and with everything discussed here, it doesn't seem out of the realm of possibility. They haven't been dating for too long as far as we know, but that doesn't necessarily mean that it couldn't happen, given they've also known each other for almost 10 years. Like Amanda said, some people are ok with balancing both at the same time.

Thoughts?

Honestly been thinking that it's Kimmy tbh. I saw Shane is pretty much flying in and out of Japan for his wrestling career every other month. So maybe saving for something? 🤔

Also can see Shourtney as well but I don't think it's gonna happen any time soon imo. Maybe after they tie the knot which would need them coming out first. So maybe it will happen in the future.

[wkemeup]

The Offer

summary: Zemo offers to sell the Winter Soldier in exchange for information. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 3k warnings: vaguely implied unwanted sexual contact a/n: this is based around the Madripoor scene in TFATWS ep 3, particularly Zemo’s suggestion of “he will do anything you want.”

“You must maintain your cover,” Zemo’s voice rang in your ear, drowning out the heavy bass of loudspeakers from the club down the hall. “If you break character, they will know... and they will kill us.”

You held your breath; arms folded tight across your chest, nails digging into the exposed skin on your biceps. It did little to ease the strain within your muscle as you watched Bucky standing guard at the edge of the room, his eyes overcast in a cold, emotionless haze. Ready for command. Empty of the needs and desire that made him human. Portraying the shadow from his past he was so desperate to escape.

Slowly, you shifted your weight on heels sharp enough to pierce skin. The clothes Zemo had dressed you in were unforgiving, exposing every dip and curve on your body, though you supposed that was his intention. You were meant assume the role of a wealthy arms dealer known only as Lilith, a woman whose reputation for the bedrooms of Madripoor outweighed even that of the weapons at her disposal. An affinity for the finer things in life, Zemo had snickered to himself. Sex, drugs, and power.

Bucky’s eyes shifted to the floor near your feet. You could tell he was watching you from his peripherals though his expression remained vacant. It was shocking to see him like this again, worse that he seemed to fall back into the role of the Winter Soldier so easily – like he’d never truly believed he could put his past to rest at all.

Zemo paced at the center of the room, discussing terms while Selby lounged on the couch. Her brazen comfort in a room of powerful agents on the dark market told you she had more leverage than any of you anticipated. You felt for the slight weight of the gun strapped at your thigh, keeping careful watch of the guards stationed just outside the door. The four of you were easily outnumbered and outgunned, even with Bucky throwing himself back to the Winter Soldier.

Sam caught your eye across the room, his face stern enough to communicate his uncertainty. He didn’t trust Zemo anymore than you did. The man was responsible for dozens of deaths, including the King of Wakanda, and he’d done the Avengers no favors by planting a seed of war between the most powerful people on the planet. You tried not to follow Sam's gaze when his eyes flickered to Bucky, a softening in his brow to see months of progress virtually erased within seconds.

“What’s the offer?” Selby’s voice broke through the haze. You hadn’t realized how focused you’d been on Bucky until you began to notice the music thumping through the walls and the scent of stale beer lining the floors – a disorienting state amongst precious stole artifacts and original paintings.

Zemo stood from his chair, crossing the room. He picked up a relic from the center table, admiring the shiny copper edges as he tossed it in the air. It nearly slipped from his grip and he shuttered out an apologetic wince at Selby before placing it back on the table. You rolled your eyes.

Adjusting the fur lined collar of his jacket, Zemo circled the edges of the room. He came to a pause over Bucky’s shoulder, gaze slowly trailing down his frame, tracing over the lines on Bucky's face as if he were studying for imperfections. A sinister smirk curled at his lips before he turned back to Selby.

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum,” Zemo bargained, waiting for her interest to peak before he continued. She shifted in her seat; a brow raised. His lips curved in a devious grin enough to make your stomach twist. “And we’ll give you him. Along with the code words to control him, of course.”

Bucky didn’t so much as flinch, his stare maintaining the same emptiness you saw the day on the bridge when he’d been muzzled by his captors and made to be a weapon. Nothing in his expression gave way to whatever was going through his mind and part of you wondered if he’d allowed himself so far into this role again, that he’d embraced the cold arms of the numbness it carried. It was easier than allowing himself to feel any of the rage that was rapidly boiling under your skin, you supposed.

But then, Zemo’s knuckles grazed at Bucky’s cheek. Lingering over unshaven stubble, a shadow along his jaw. A delicate touch though it seemed to burn as if steam could rise from the contact alone.

Zemo turned, grinning at Selby. “He will do anything you want.”

It was so impossibly subtle, you weren’t sure anyone else had noticed, but Bucky’s jaw clenched. The muscle shifted the shadows on his face, his breathing coming to a stop as his chest no longer carried the steady rise and fall under layers of leather and Kevlar. Zemo’s hand moved along Bucky’s jaw, fingers dangerously close to his lips, and you felt for the outline of the gun strapped to your thigh.

"Anything?" Selby inquired. Her tone was even though her eyes widened just enough, the dark of her pupils expanding as she glanced over Bucky's frame.

"When he is properly activated, the Soldier is incredibly–" Zemo paused, tapping the edge of Bucky's chin, "–eager to please. There's nothing else inside that brain of his except his mission. What that mission is, is entirely up to whoever recites the triggers."

“Fascinating,” Selby grinned as she slowly stood from her perch.

You followed her stride with every agonizing step towards Bucky. Just as she crossed in front of The Smiling Tiger, Sam’s gaze met yours. He narrowed his eyes, the slight shake in his head barely noticeable. He must have seen you reach for your gun – an instinct to protect Bucky from the demons of his past, a tangible weapon you hadn't been able to use against the monsters in his sleep. It took every ounce of your strength to relax away from the comforting metal.

You watched as Selby’s eyes roamed over Bucky – hungry, and like a vulture, she licked her lips. As she began to circle his frame, gaze trailing down from his shoulders, to his thighs, down to his feet, never once daring to meet his eyes, you found yourself inching closer. Bucky’s hand curled into a fist so tight his nails broke skin in his right hand, blood prickling at his palm. And still—his expression remained stoic, unfeeling. A paralyzing thought crossed your mind and you questioned if this dance was a familiar one – the art of being sold to another human being.

Selby paused as she faced him; examining the features on his face as if he were something other than human – a prize to be won, a possession to own, a trophy to show off.

“And he’s still in working condition? After all these years?” she inquired toward Zemo, standing so dangerously close to Bucky. His stare focused straight ahead, far beyond the wall across the room as if he could burn holes into the plaster.

"He's quite impressive," Selby murmured. Slowly, her hand reached towards his face.

Your grip was around her wrist before anyone realized you’d crossed the room. She flinched, startled by the vice-like hold wrapped around her wrist and a pained sort of whine escaped. She flexed her fingers and still, you held your ground.

“Is there a problem, Lilith?” Selby smirked, curiosity glaring as her eyes flickered between you and Bucky. You said nothing and yet, her lips parted in understanding. “Oh, I see. You control him. Don’t you, dear? He belongs to you.”

You tasted bile on your tongue – the very thought of owning Bucky as if his agency was not even in question made you sick to your stomach. Your grip tightened on Selby’s wrist and you would have broken it clean in two if you had the strength for it. But one look at Zemo and the cautious gaze upon his face, and you forced yourself to swallow back the venom in your mouth. You didn’t allow the disgust to touch your features or the shame to burn hot into your neck. Lilith would not be fazed by the selling of a weapon—even if that weapon were a man with heart so heavy, so full and so kind, he could hardly carry its burden on his own.

“Make your deal, Selby,” you hissed in an accident belonging to the weapons dealer you portrayed, “then, you can play with your toy. Until we have our intel, hands off the product.”

You released Selby’s wrist and she stepped back a few paces. She slid her left hand over the red marks forming over her skim, gingerly massaging at the area and still – the grin did not falter from her cheeks. Impressed, intrigued. She seemed inclined to ask you more about your bond to the Winter Soldier when you stepped in front of Bucky, blocking her view as she unabashedly stared down her hopeful new possession. Sam and Zemo exchanged a glance, though their expressions did not carry the weight their eyes did.

Behind you, you could hear Bucky exhale a heavy a breath, could practically feel as his fists released to be out of the woman’s eye line. It was short lived, of course, as all things in Madripoor were. A gunshot pierced through the window and lodged itself into Selby’s head.

***

You woke with a sudden start, the sticky smell of stale beer still on your skin as you jolted up on an unfamiliar bed. The room was vaguely a blur thanks to the pounding ache in the back of your head, but you could see enough to know it was not a place you recognized. To your left, the bed was untouched; sheets perfectly pressed as if they’d never been laid in at all. Glancing down, you saw you were still wearing the dress from the club, makeup smeared over your face and onto the pillows. You brushed at your cheeks to remove the mascara stains.

At the end of the bed, laid a fresh pair of clothes. Blue jeans and a black pullover. You sighed, pressing a hand over the soft fabric and bringing it to your face. It smelled of lavender and vanilla – fresh and inviting compared to the sweaty stale air of the night club.

The night before was mostly a blur. You didn’t remember much after Selby was killed; only Bucky’s hands on your waist, pulling you back towards the door as you tried to locate the shooter. You’d kicked off your heels and sprinted next to him in your bare feet – a man who could challenge the speed of moving vehicles and he was running in line with you and Sam while gunshots reined from every direction. Self-preservation was not a concept in Bucky’s vocabulary.

Your feet were bloodied by the time you caught your breath again and within the impossibly small moment you took to pause, an assailant had knocked you out from behind. Cold darkness. Instantaneously. After that, you could only catch vague memories of Bucky lifting you into his arms and Sharon Carter’s voice. But you hadn’t seen Sharon in years. Not since the aftermath of Vienna. The theory didn’t make much sense.

You felt along the dresser for your gun, only to find it empty. With a tired groan, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, hoping you could find Bucky or Sam before you found trouble. Your feet were wrapped in bandages carrying a slight pink color on the soles – courteous of Zemo’s ridiculous heels you’d left behind the chaos and the mile worth of pavement you’d run barefoot on.

The chill of the hardwood floors was a relief on the undersides of your feet, but you hadn’t accounted for the dizziness from your concussion to take over once you stood. The room went dark and you began to sway, trying to feel for the bed behind you, when suddenly you hard footsteps rushing into the room.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing out of bed?” Bucky’s arms wrapped at your waist, holding you steady. He guided you back to the bed, helping you to sit on the edge as you regained your vision. He sat down beside you, keeping a hand on your arm to help ground you as you focused on the permanence of the room, the sturdiness of solid ground.

“What happened?” you sighed, pressing your palms to your eyes. Your head was still ringing from the blow you took the night before. When you finally allowed yourself to adjust to the sunlight in the room, you turned to face Bucky. He was dressed in a plan black t-shirt and jeans; his Winter Soldier attire hung in the corner of the room.

“Sharon happened,” Bucky chuckled with a short shake of his head. You thought you might be surprised at his answer, and somehow, you weren’t at all. Bucky softened, his fingers brushing at the hem of your dress. “You should change into something more comfortable. Sharon left some clothes for you but um... you were pretty out of it last night and I didn’t want to... um...”

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled at him as you placed your hand on top of his. You squeezed at his fingers, curling under his palm against your thigh. For a moment, you nearly lost yourself in the sunlit reflection of blue within his eyes – the delicate intricacies of a complex man. So impossibly sweet and kind in the daylight; cold as stone in the night under the guise of the Winter Soldier.

Bucky helped you to stand, giving you time to adjust to the sting of healing wounds on the soles of your feet. He turned his back to give you privacy, though he kept close enough that you could grab hold of his shoulder for support. He pushed the clothes down the bed for you to reach easily.

Slowly, ignoring the ache in your body, you slid the zipper down your spine, letting the dress fall to a heap at your feet. You tried not to notice how Bucky’s shoulders tightened at the sound, his stance a little less balanced at the fallen fabric. Gingerly, you dressed yourself in the jeans and pullover Sharon had provided for you, trying to stifle a wince as you shifted on your feet. Bucky’s head tilted at your whimper, his instinct fighting to turn to you, to help you, but he held himself still.

When you were done, you reached for the necklace at your bedside, one you hadn’t worn on the mission but you carried it with you wherever you went – the last token you had of a distant life before the Avengers. Sam had kept it in his pocket in Madripoor.

“Would you mind?” you called softly, tapping a hand against Bucky’s shoulder. He turned cautiously, almost timid in his movements, and you smiled at him as he held his hand out. The delicate gold chain dropped into his palm – a beautiful contrast to the black metal, in mirror to the detailing work along his shoulder.

Before you could turn your back to him, Bucky stepped closer. He held each side of the necklace in his hands and brought them around the back of your neck. This close, you could smell the bar soap he’d used that morning, you could see the lines of scruff along his jaw he hadn’t been able to shave.

When he clasped the chain, he stepped back slowly, but only enough to admire his work. He brushed your hair away from your collar, a ghosted smile on his lips at he touched the pendent at the center. This wonderful, beautiful man who learned to find comfort in touch again, who sought you out when it felt impossible to reclaim that part of him. Memory of the night before etched into your mind and you swallowed back the lump in your throat.

“Bucky?”

He smiled a little wider, focused on tracing his fingers along your jaw, brushing away your hair. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to talk about last night?”

Bucky paused, his touch upon you skin turning near to stone before he pulled away. The smile he’d worn slowly faded from his lips, the cold rush of reality piercing through the tender moment, and you hated yourself for being the cause of such pain. Bucky sighed, sinking down onto the bed, his hands gripped tight to the edge of the mattress.

“Not sure there’s much to say, doll,” Bucky exhaled.

You sat beside him, close enough for your thigh to brush in line with his. He looked down at the little space between you, his eyes fluttered closed at the contact – the grounding sensation of welcomed touch.

“You're not him anymore, Bucky,” you said softly, setting your hand over his own. “No one is ever going to control you or... or own you again, okay? They can’t make you do anything you don’t want to... not anymore. You’re free. You know that, don’t you?”

Bucky nodded, though it was slow, almost aching. He squeezed at your hand, pushing out a pained smile as he looked at you. “I do.”

You reached towards him with your free hand, cupping the side of his cheek where Zemo had touched him the night before. You traced your thumb over his jaw line, tingling over the short hairs on his skin. So beautiful and lovely after decades suffering under the hands of cruel men.

“You know I’d kill anyone who tried, right?”

Bucky chuckled at that and you were grateful to see the lines by his eyes again, the smile pushing bright into his cheeks. “Yeah, sweetheart. I know that, too.”

He leaned forward a pressed a kiss to your temple. Short and lingering and not nearly long enough. But it was welcomed and warm and enough.

—

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[edasnest]

Might you have any Raeda headcanons you'd be willing to share?

Oh shit I didn’t see that you sent this to me until now oh man.

But you better believe I’ve got some Raeda headcanons >:D

[Spoilers for Eda’s Requiem and Knock Knock Knockin on Hooty’s Door! Also a little bit of a character study regarding those eps lol]

Raine is constantly in awe of Eda. Eda’s desire to learn every kind of magic and buck tradition and societal norms sometimes leaves them breathless. When they were young, Raine always admired Eda for the clever pranks she’d pull using different kinds of magic despite being in the potions track. They also admired Eda’s boldness when it came to standing up for herself and her sister.

Eda found Raine to be interesting considering they were in the bard track despite their stage fright, but once Eda watched them perform and saw how they’d lose themself in the music was, no pun intended, magical. They had a fierce grip on Eda’s heart and she didn’t know why; she was fascinated by Raine and made it her goal to be best friends with this oddly shy bard (which she achieved pretty quickly).

After Eda’s curse caused her to unintentionally disable her dad, she was terrified of what it would mean if she was caught off guard like that again. So she started putting up walls. No stressful situations, no hard conversations, no sudden bright lights or loud sounds that she wasn’t the cause of. If she could be in control of her surroundings, she could control the Owl Beast. The elixir she’d discovered that could keep the curse’s side effects at bay helped maintain her sanity and her chill demeanor, but Raine was able to tell she was always slightly on edge. Raine knew about the curse; after Eda had transformed on the Grudgby field the first time everyone had been talking about it, but they didn’t know the extent of it. Everyone just said she’d turned into a monster and then fled; but what kind of monster?? But every time Raine tried to get more information about it, Eda would brush it off and change the subject. It broke their heart watching Eda brush off something that was clearly bothering her, and eventually it all came to a head. She was lying more and more often to Raine and they just couldn’t take it anymore. What happened to their best friend??? Why would she lie to them????? It was maddening and all the frustration and aching in their heart became too much. They needed to focus on something other than Eda. They weren’t nearly as bold as Eda, even after all these years, so they joined the Bard Coven in order to start teaching and building a career for themself. They’d happily welcome Eda back if she’d just tell them what was going on. But it never happened. Burying themself into their work and then, eventually, into the BAtTs helped keep the heartache at bay, but only sometimes.

Eda and Raine caught glimpses of each other as the years passed. They’d spot one another in the market or Raine would see a flash of unmistakable ginger hair dashing around a corner; sometimes they’d hear Eda yelling at some Coven guards and quietly hope she’d make her escape. Eda would occasionally see posters advertising a performance starring Raine; she’d either buy a ticket or sneak in just to listen to them play again. She could never stay for very long though because listening to them play made her heart hurt so much she’d be at risk of turning into the Owl Beast. Raine grabbed one of Eda’s wanted posters and keeps it hidden under some other paperwork in their desk, pulling it out sometimes and going over every detail of the artist’s rendition of her. One day, a new wanted poster came out - this one with a weird skull dog now part of the image and the bounty having increased significantly. Raine would always smirk whenever they saw the new version, although they were alarmed the first time they saw her drawn with all-grey hair. When had that happened? They weren’t that old yet, right??

The day Eda saved the BAtTs and figured out Raine’s secret was maybe the best day Raine had had in years. Their best friend was talking to them again, helping them with their plot. Raine didn’t bother pushing Eda about the last 20 years; their last conversation proved enough that Eda didn’t like it when people pried. But Eda had become not just older, but so much more kind and open. To a degree that sort of shocked Raine. When they asked Eda if she had nothing to lose and Eda took their hand, it was like they’d gone back in time. As if they were both 20 again and daydreaming about a world they’d create for themselves where covens weren’t there to shackle witches down and stage fright didn’t exist; where Eda’s curse never happened and they could stay there on that hill forever.

Eda of course was warring with her own emotions during all of this; she was under the impression that everyone in her life was leaving her again. And not because she was pushing them away this time, but of their own volition. She got her big sister back only for her to go back home to their parents after just a few weeks. She overheard King talk about leaving to find his dad and her apprentice - the first person to ever break down all of Eda’s defenses and show her how to love again - was constantly working on ways to go back to her own home. Eda would be left with Hooty and Owlbert and absolutely nobody else and that hurt so much more than she cared to admit. So when Raine showed up in the town square with their BAtT mask on, using their magic to turn some coven guards into bumbling fools, Eda was a little shell-shocked. The first person to leave her of their own volition was right there in front of her and needed help. So she helped them. And when she became invested in their plots to free wild witches, she felt like she was a teenager again, plotting out pranks with Raine in her secret shortcuts room at Hexside, blushing at every interaction they had because even after all this time, Raine was still Raine. Her Rainstorm. It was like she was starting over, like the last 20 years had faded away, except they hadn’t. Because Luz and King were competing in a race that she needed to be there for. Her past and her present were all different types of painful but finding Raine like this again gave her so much hope! Until she realized she wouldn’t see the end of that race, not if it meant stopping Belos. And she was ready for that, ready for the pain to just stop already, but Raine wouldn’t let her.

Losing Raine again was so much worse the second time. But what they said stayed with her and Eda needed to get back to King and Luz. So when she got back and discovered they’d lost, of course her first thought was to help them. Anything to take her mind off of what she’d just lost. And when King announced that he wasn’t leaving at all, he was legally changing his name? She was “stuck” with him forever? That was too much and she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Someone wasn’t leaving her. In fact he was legally binding himself to her. No one was leaving, at least not any time soon. Eda definitely still cried more that night after King and Luz had gone to bed.

In the future, Eda and Raine agree to start from scratch: Eda explains the curse to them in detail, all the things she’s learned about it over the years and specifically with Luz and King and Hooty’s help. She explains that Lilith was the one that gave it to her to begin with and why (Raine is appalled like???? Raine specifically worked with Lilith in that last year before they had been made head of the Bard Coven?? And Lilith showed maybe irritation at best at the mention of Eda, so like?? What the fuck???). Eda also explains how she’s come to accept the curse as something that’s part of her and the history the Owl Beast has that she got a glimpse of which is super intriguing to Raine. Also Harpy Eda was a thing which was maybe the most surprising part of it all.

Raine in the meantime tells Eda about their time working their way up the ranks of the Bard Coven, how they met each of the BAtTs and recruited them, the façade they had to maintain to stay on track to become the head of the Bard Coven (something that greatly impressed Eda given Raine’s history with being an awkward actor).

Eda introduces Raine to Luz and King to which both of them start shooting rapidfire questions at them and overwhelm them pretty quickly. Eda has to shoo the two away before Raine just bursts out laughing, saying something about how they’re definitely Eda’s kids (all of them blush while Raine is laughing). Luz is just as fascinated with Raine’s Bard magic as Eda was when they first met and the similarities between the two are striking. Raine tells Eda as much later on and Eda begins gushing about what a great apprentice Luz is and everything she’s done during her time on the Boiling Isles.

They fall easily back into dating once they reconnect properly and everything’s calmed down a little - Raine will still be humming a piece they’re working on and suddenly grab Eda and begin dancing to the tune, Eda laughing the whole time and making their heart soar. Eda will still play with Raine’s earring when they’re cuddled up together just chatting. Raine will start asking Eda again for her opinion on musical pieces they’re working on and Eda will make suggestions along with some jokes or snide commentary. They both still love watching the clouds overhead on their hill, sometimes playing music, sometimes just holding hands.

Raine loves watching Eda interact with Luz and King. They love watching how easily Eda loves them and how much she’s changed since they first broke up. Once they’re alone together, in a moment total admiration for how far they’ve come, Raine tells Eda they love her. Eda immediately kisses them and starts crying, repeating Raine’s words back to them and mumbling about how she’ll never let Raine leave ever again.

A canon Non-binary love interest to a main character that uses They/Them pronouns??? In my kids cartoon???? It’s more likely than you think.

Anyways I fucking love Raine and I love how much Eda and Raine love each other and I can’t wait to see what ends up happening with Them™️

[buttterknifeee]

Final Exam- Teen Titans x Aquagirl! Reader

Masterlist

Request: Helloooooo! I have an Episode request “Final exam” (Season 1 ep 3) with Aquagirl!reader please and thank you very much!

Summary: It's a good thing you have junior life guard training as you face a new force of evil. Will you and your teammates defeat these foes or will you drown in the pressure?

Pairings: Robin x Reader (nothing serious, just some blushing lol)

Word count: 3192

A/N: hey!!! sorry this took a while I was just doing other things lul. Reminder that I'm now on AO3 (username is butterknifee) and that requests are always open! Hope you enjoy!!!

It was an uneventful day in the tower. Cyborg and Beast Boy were rummaging around the living room looking for the TV remote, Raven was reading silently and you were practicing your water skills, balancing an orb of water in mid air.

"It's gotta be around here somewhere!" Cyborg says, rummaging through the whole room. He lifts up the whole couch as Beast Boy sniffs around in dog form.

“How could you lose the remote?” Cyborg glares at Beast Boy.

“What makes you so sure I lost it?” Beast Boy asks, turning back into a human.

“Uh...'cause you're you.”

“Hey! Just because I lost that video game--”

“--And the toothpaste, and my football, and the waffle iron--”

“Things disappear. How am I supposed to know where they go?”

You continued to focus on your bubble, but couldn’t help but notice Raven lowering her book. You peeked over to see her annoyed expression, obviously caused by the two boys.

Cyborg huffs. “Well how am I supposed to watch TV without a remote?” Suddenly, Raven slammed her book, breaking you out of your focus and causing the water you were balancing to drop into a puddle. You stared wide-eyed at Raven as she stood up.

“Simple. You can just get up and change the channel.” she says with a stone cold expression.

“Don’t even joke like that.” Cyborg says. You hover your hands over the puddle, trying to pick it up with your hydrokinesis.

“Do you think you guys could argue in like, the bathroom or something? Cause-” you start, but Raven interrupts you.

“I wasn’t joking”

“Good, 'cause it wasn't funny!” Cyborg says. “Now either help us look for the remote or go back to your nasty old book and--”

“This is a pointless argument over a useless device.” she snaps, her face red from frustration.

“You know what, I'm just gonna get a mop or something,” you mumble. You consider actually getting up to get a mop as they continue to argue.

Robin and Starfire walks in to the three teens arguing and you sitting to the side. You make a pained expression at the two, your way of saying go back, before it's too late.

But Robin steps towards the bickering Titans. “Whoa! Take it easy, Titans! Combat practice is this afternoon!”

“We must mend your dispute by the sharing of unhealthy junk foods. I shall fetch them.” Starfire adds, happily flying towards the kitchen.

Cyborg continues to argue. “I don't need food, what I need is a time machine, I didn't--”

Beast Boy cuts him off. “Back me up here, Robin!! Have I ever lost any--?”

“Ok, ok!” Robin puts up his hands to stop them.

“To stop him from taking the REMOTE!!!” Cyborg yells.

“Hey! Come on!! Settle down! ENOUGH!!!” Robin starts yelling too. You start to cover your ears when a loud noise causes all of you to look up. You see Starfire staring wide-eyed at the fridge, her hands glowing green. Blue mold had exploded from her starbolt, causing it to land all over the kitchen. You made a mental note to start cleaning the kitchen more often.

“Maybe we should go out for pizza,” Robin decides.

.

.

The arguing does not stop at the pizza place.

“Can we please just order something?” Raven groans.

“As long as its vegetarian.” Beast Boy says.

“Come on, man, how can you deny me the all-meat experience?” Cyborg whines.

“Dude, I've been most of those animals!”

“Just no anchovies for me,” You say.

“I suggest a large pizza with pickles, bananas, and mint frosting.” Starfire says with a smile. You shudder at the thought of eating something like that. Robin leans over.

“Uh, Starfire? Not everything on the menu is a pizza topping.” She blushes at her mistake, Beast Boy and Cyborg going at each other again.

“Double pepperoni!!”

“I'm not eating meat!!”

“There's no meat in pepperoni!!”

The sound of a vehicle horn finally ended their argument. You all look up to see a bus barreling straight towards a baby carriage, a baby screaming from inside.

“Titans go!” Robin yells. You, Cyborg and Raven ran to stop the bus while Robin, Starfire, and Beast Boy ran to save the baby carriage. You summon a jet of water from a fire hydrant and shoot it at the bus, slowing it down. Cyborg planted himself in front of the bus, his bulky arms holding it back. Raven uses her magic, pulling the gearshift inside the bus to “park”. When the bus finally skidded to a stop, you three looked inside. No one was there.

“Um… don’t buses normally have drivers?” Cyborg asks.

“And don’t carriages normally have babies?” Robin says nearby. He, Starfire, and Beast Boy were staring at a teddy bear that was inside the carriage. A voice suddenly projected from the stuffed animal.

“Are you pit-sniffers normally this stupid?”

Suddenly, the teddy bear shot lasers out of its eyes, sending the three teens flying into an alleyway. You turned to see the bus next to you be lifted up by a large, hairy man in black and yellow. He smiled and threw the bus on top from the three of you, trapping you under it. You grunt as the weight of the bus begins to press down on your chest. You hear a voice from outside the bus.

“That was too easy. What a buncha cludge-heads. You guys want to get pizza?” The voice matched the one from the teddy bear. You gritted your teeth as you heard Cyborg’s sonic cannon warm up.

“This isn't over!” you hear Robin yells. Cyborg blasts his cannon, sending the bus in the air. You got up with the other two titans.

“We’re just getting started!” Cyborg yells.

“Who are these guys?” Beast Boy asks, stuck in a trash can. “And what’s a cludge-head?”

“We are the HIVE!” the villain who called you ‘cludge-heads’ said. He was a short kid, wearing a green jumpsuit and goggles. He basically looked like an evil Caillou.

“Your worst nightmare!” said the guy who crushed you with a bus. You noticed that he had a large amount of hair on his whole body.

“And this is attack pattern Alpha!” said the last villain, a goth looking girl with pink, hornlike hair. They jumped out of their poses, and towards you. The small guy in green flew forward in a jetpack, shooting lasers at Robin, Starfire and Beast Boy. The lasers hit the alleyway around them, causing a pile of rubble to fall on them.

Cyborg immediately started brawling with the large guy, Raven and the pink-haired girl attacking each other with their magic, and the smaller kid flying around your head. You tried to shoot him down with your blasts of water, but he wove through your shots. He then flew towards Cyborg, holding something metal.

“Cyborg watch out!” you scream, but it was too late. The green kid attached the metal object to Cyborg's back, and at that moment you realized it was a rocket. Starfire recovered from being crushed by rubble just to see him flying through the air.

"Cyborg!" She yelled, flying after him and out of sight. The two leaving so abruptly caught you off guard, so off guard that you didn't notice the burly guy sneaking up behind you. You turned just as he went to kick you, kicking your stomach and causing you to go flying. You hold your stomach in pain and try to run back towards him, but Raven being thrown towards you sends you crashing back towards the ground. You groan in pain as you hear Robin and Beast Boy meet a similar fate. You see them laying next to you.

"Is it just me or are we getting our butts kicked?" Beast Boy asked, the rest of you standing up.

"It's just you," the three of you say at the same time.

"Listen up team, I have a plan," Robin begins, but is cut off by 3 blasts from the short boy's jetpack. Those 3 blasts ended up hitting you, Beast Boy and Raven. You landed behind the Boy Wonder, leaving him to face the HIVE alone.

“Gee, scrum-buffer.” the jetpack boy jeered, lowering himself to the ground. “Sure hope your fancy plan includes getting fried!”

“You’ll just have to find out the hard way.” you hear him say. You watch him stand in a fighting position, beckoning them to fight. However instead of fighting, the three villains stood with a smile on their face. Then, one by one, they hit the ground between them and Robin. You were confused at first, but then realized in horror that they had created a crack in the asphalt, it getting bigger with each hit. The crack traveled up towards Robin and the area around him crumbled. A look of fear set in his face as he fell with the asphalt into the ground.

“Robin!” you yelled, running up towards the hole with Beast Boy and Raven. Through the crumbling hole you saw a stream of dark, murky sewer water. Water, you realized. You turned to the other two Titans.

“There’s water down there. I’ll go get Robin, you two go back to the Tower.” Before they could reply, you dove into the hole, landing into the water.

“Aquagirl!” Beast Boy yelled, but you were gone.

.

The cold water shocked your body, but you forced yourself to shake it off. You floated on the surface of the water, looking for any signs of Robin. When you didn’t see anyone, you dove back underwater and took a deep breath (yes, you can breathe underwater). You shoot through the water, swimming as fast as you can. Up ahead, you saw blurs of red, yellow, and green. It was Robin. You swam up to him and grabbed onto his unconscious body. Then with all your strength, you pulled him out of the water and onto the concrete surface of the sewer.

You laid Robin on his back and started to inspect him. You check for his heart rate by pressing two fingers against the area under his jaw. It was beating, but very slowly. You placed your hands on his chest and started pumping. After 30 seconds, nothing was happening. Tilting his head back, you pinched his nose and took a deep breath. You gave mouth to mouth once, then twice, then-

Robin’s eyes opened while you were giving the third. He jerked his head up and crashed his forehead into yours.

“Owwww” you whine, rubbing your hand on your forehead. Robin backed up from you, holding his lips.

“Hey! why did you-” He was about to finish his sentence but started coughing up water. You roll your eyes.

“Woah, calm down Robin, I’m not trying to make a move on you. The only move I made was saving you from drowning.”

“Oh- I’m sorry,” he says, his masked eyes staring at you apologetically.

You waved your hand. “Don’t worry about it, you had a pretty bad fall.”

“What happened to the others? Where are they? Where are we?” He asked, frantically reaching for his T-communicator, only to realize that his whole belt was missing.

“Oh man, your belt must’ve fallen off when you fell. Last time I checked, Raven and Beast Boy were injured, but fine. We’re currently in a sewer, I’m not sure if Starfire and Cyborg are ok, but maybe we can check.” you pulled out your own T-communicator and flipped it open. Water gushed out and formed a puddle under your hand. You both stared at it as you flipped the communicator closed and slid it back into your belt.

“We need to get back to the others, before the HIVE strikes again,” Robin says, standing up. He doubles over, falling to his knees, clutching his abdomen.

“You’re hurt. You need to rest before we find the other Titans,” you say, sitting next to him. “Here, I can help.” You beckon him to let go of his chest and you sit down with you, which he reluctantly does. You summon a bubble of the murky water and allow it to soak into his shirt. You concentrated, and the water began to glow blue.

“Hmmm… I only feel a rib fracture… this may take a while…” you mutter, hovering your hands over his chest. You were focusing so much on healing Robin’s wound, you didn’t notice the frown on his face, more stern than usual.

“Something on your mind, Robin?” you asked, looking up from your work. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the ground.

“It’s just that…” he began. “I really thought that I could take on the HIVE, you know? But they took me out so easily; they took all of us out so easily. How am I supposed to be a leader if I get hurt so easily, if I let all my teammates get hurt-” his rant is cut off by your finger being shoved in front of his mouth. You both stare at each other in awkward silence.

“When I was a kid, I knew all about you and your adventures,” you began, staring at the stream of water flowing next to you. “You were the boy wonder. The Hero of Gotham. The Sidekick. But now look at you; you’re the leader of a whole team of superheroes, who trust you and are here for you, Robin. We know the dangers, and hey, if I would be a superhero on any team, I’m glad I’m on yours.”

He gave you a small smile. “Thank you Aquagirl,” he said.

You nodded and smiled back. “Anytime, Robin.” You looked at his chest again. “How do you feel?”

“I feel great, both inside and out.” he said, standing up with ease. “I think it's time to find the other titans.”

“Great idea, and I know just how to get out of here.” You stretch out your arm and the ground starts to rumble. A giant geyser shoots up from the stream and punches a hole in the roof of the sewer, allowing the setting sun to peek through. You grabbed Robin’s waist and jumped into the water, another smaller geyser pushing you up and out of the sewer.

“Ugh, gross! I’m definitely taking a shower after this,” you say, looking back at the sewer you jumped out of.

“Ok, let’s go find the others,” Robin says, heading in the direction of the Tower, which was peaking out in the distance. “And, I think it’s time to come up with a plan.”

.

You finally get closer to the Tower when you notice something.

“Ummm Robin?” you say. “Doesn’t the tower usually look like a T?” You both stare at the tower, its original shape now being built upon to look like a ‘H’. The HIVE… you thought. You and Robin eventually find the rest of your friends, who were all arguing on the beach. You were about to announce your presence but Robin stopped you, putting his arm in front of you.

“We need to control our emotions,” you hear Raven say.

“Or What?!” Cyborg yells. “Our bad vibes will keep you from meditating??”

“I wish Robin were here..” Starfire mumbles. You see the slightest tinge of pink dust across Robin’s cheeks.

“Well he’s NOT! And neither is Aquagirl!” Cyborg continues to yell. “Don't you guys get it?! They won, we lost! IT'S OVER!!”

Beast Boy looked at him. “Then are the Teen Titan’s finished?” Robin looks at you and nods, you nod back. The two of you step forwards.

“We’re not,” Robin says. The other four Titans turn in shock to see you and Robin, both seemingly fine, standing before them.

“Not if I can help it,” he said, arms crossed.

“Told’ya I’d get him back.” you said. “Now who wants to hear our plan?”

You waited on the roof as Cyborg, Raven, and Starfire infiltrated the Tower. You sat on a ledge of the (hideous) HIVE add-ons, swinging your legs as Robin stood next to you, staring out into the distance.

“You ready, bird boy?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked. “With you here, I’m more than ready.” He jumped down from the ledge, leaving you flustered above him.

Suddenly, The three villains come tumbling onto the roof and crash into each other, much more uncoordinated than they had seemed earlier today. The belt the pink haired girl had most likely stolen from Robin’s wardrobe goes flying, and Robin catches it midair.

“Sorry to interrupt your victory celebration,” Robin says, clicking his belt back on around his waist. “But like I said, this isn’t over.” The five of you join him, looming above the HIVE.

“It’s just getting started,” Cyborg said.

The trio of villains quickly recovered.

“Attack pattern alpha!” The pink haired girl yelled, sending waves of magic in your direction. You all jumped out of the way, splitting up.

You saw the large guy swing at Beast Boy, so you rushed in to help him. You summoned a long tendril of water from the ocean and used it like a third arm, with whipping the villain in the face. He turns towards you and grabs your wrist, but with a swift kick in the stomach he goes flying across the roof. You see Raven approach him, so you go to assist in taking down the other two.

Soon, the HIVE laid defeated at your feet. The smaller boy was holding a transmitter device.

"Cram it. I'm calling Slade." He groaned. Slade? You thought. Robin lifted the boy by his green jumpsuit.

"Who is Slade?" Robin asked quite aggressively. The boy scoffed.

"Wouldn't you like to know barf-brain?"

.

After you dealt with the villains, you finally came in the Tower after a long day. You flopped on the couch as the other Titans inspected the damage the HIVE had caused in the tower, which apparently, wasn't much. Beast Boy crouched at his music collection, head in his hands.

"My tunes! They've been… alphabetized!" He whined. "How am I ever going to find anything?"

Raven came out of her room holding one of her cloaks. "They went into my room. No one should ever go into my room," she said coldly.

"Someone has disposed of all of our blue furry food!" Starfire gasped. Cyborg lifted the whole couch like he did earlier today.

"You gotta be kidding me! The whole place gets cleaned and I still can't find the-" his rant is stopped by Robin, who points at the coffee table. There, the remote lay in plain sight.

"Ha!" He cheered, flopping down on the couch next to you and flipping through channels.

"Maybe we should let the HIVE take over the tower every once in a while, I think this place needed a good clean," you joke, still strewn across the couch.

"I guess we really oughta be training for battles, tracking down clues, and trying to figure out who Slade is, huh?" Cyborg said, looking at Robin.

"We will. But right now, I'm just happy to be part of the team." He looks at you while saying that and you smile.

"Me too"

[unbridgeabledistances]

prompt: domestic gallavich/being intimate in a nonsexualway bc there’s like 3 weeks til the next episode 😐

your wish is my command, anon!<3 i decided to tie this into next ep bc i simply cannot HANDLE mickey’s outfit/big gay metamorphosis & i needed to create the scene that inspired it so i wrote this

a one-shot bridging 11x06 and 11x07 in which ian and mickey talk about “gay friends,” ripped jeans, and do a bit of processing along the way

tw for brief mention of homophobia/abuse (bc terry lol)

--

“How come we don’t have any, like, gay friends?”

Ian looked up from where he was laying on the ground, breathing heavily after a series of push-ups, a nightly routine that he was trying to keep intact even though he and Mickey were practically driving the entire circumference of Chicago every day to make weed deliveries from dawn til dusk, leaving them both exhausted. It had been a week since all the shit with Terry, and a month or so since he and Mickey had started the security gig; while months ago their evenings would be spent sitting side by side on the bed in a brittle silence while Ian read or scratched in his notebook and Mickey played games on his phone blasting at full volume in the pajamas he’d been wearing all day, these days the evenings in their bedroom were softer and warmer— like they were settling into the space together, like they were both on the same team instead of constantly clashing and butting heads while trapped in a too-small space. These days, after having dinner in the clamor of the crowded kitchen, he and Mickey would head upstairs and change out of their uniforms, and Ian would work out while Mickey mostly just lounged on the bed, sometimes making commentary and watching him bob up and down with a pensive smirk or scrolling through his phone.

But tonight, Mickey was quiet— his eyes flickered to the curves and edges of Ian’s torso every now and then as Ian broke a sweat, but otherwise he wasn’t playfully poking and prodding like usual.

Mickey had been a lot quieter in general this week, after all the stuff with Terry— Ian knew seeing the source of all of Mickey’s trauma in a wheelchair immobile from the neck down, the most vulnerable Terry could have been, felt worse than someone repeatedly twisting a knife in Mickey’s abdomen. But beyond the initial shock and the almost-murder and lugging him up the stairs, having Terry in a wheelchair twenty feet away did something deeper to Mickey. This whole situation shifted something solid that had been lodged in the pit of Mickey’s stomach for years— Ian could see it, and he fucking hated it. He hated Mickey’s glassy contemplative eyes as he looked out the car window while they drove to a new dropoff location, lost in his head when he thought Ian wasn’t looking. He hated the tightly wound tension between Mickey’s shoulder blades as he slept, curled into himself and twisted in the comforter, facing away from Ian on the other side of the bed. He hated the tight smiles Mickey gave him as he made some offhand joke about Terry when they could hear him cursing and shrieking through the open front windows, smiles that were trying to prove something outwardly but showed the barbed pain stinging at Mickey’s insides. Ian poured out what he could in soft touches, in skims of fingertips at the breakfast table and in an arm over Mickey’s waist while they slept; but he could only give as much as Mickey would take, and for most of the week Mickey had shut everyone out with iron walls.

Ian couldn’t imagine what was stirring in Mickey’s mind; he’d seen some of Mickey’s trauma firsthand, sure, and some of the stories about Terry came slipping through the cracks when Mickey’s guard was down— mostly on those late nights when they both couldn’t sleep and Mickey whispered into the crook of Ian’s neck as they were curled into each other, cradled in the dark silence of their bedroom. But Ian knew there was deeper shit that he hadn’t heard about, and he could see the constant fear of Mickey’s adolescence hanging heavy around his neck all these years later. But Mickey didn’t need anyone to push his walls down— Ian knew he’d open up when he was ready.

Which is why this random question, the most direct statement Mickey had really made to him all week, caught Ian off guard. He sat up, folding his arms over his legs and staring up at where Mickey was slouching on the bed, propped up by a pillow he’d shoved between his back and the wall. “Gay friends?” he asked, more than a little confused.

Mickey cleared his throat. “Yeah, gay friends, y’know. Like all your youth center queers that came to the wedding or whatever.” He suddenly looked down and picked at a fraying thread on his shirt sleeve, not meeting Ian’s eyes.

Ian raised an eyebrow in curiosity. This was random, sure, but Mickey wouldn’t have brought it up if something wasn’t weighing on him, bubbling up after all the events of this week.

“I don’t know— I guess since the pandemic and stuff, I haven’t really kept in touch with Geneva or any of those guys who came to our wedding. We only really talked after I got out of prison because of all the Gay Jesus publicity bullshit, but after you got out I wasn’t really thinking about that as much.”

Mickey blew out a breath, so quietly Ian barely noticed it. Ian stood, wiping his sweaty forehead and plopping down on the bed next to Mickey, folding his legs so their knees were almost touching— but still giving him space, still letting him breathe.

“Why’re you asking?”

“Don’t know, really. Just thinkin’.” Mickey picked at his shirt sleeve again, then flickered his gaze up to meet Ian’s eyes, two clear pools of glassy blue. “Thinkin’ about what life could’ve been like. If I wasn’t scared shitless of who I was for so long.”

Ian felt something twist in his gut, the same queasy pang of pain that always resurfaced whenever he saw Mickey like this, whenever he was reminded of all the unspeakable agony that Terry had put him through.

“It’s fucked up that you didn’t get to be who you were for so long, Mick,” he breathed, knowing that statement didn’t cover the amount of things that were fucked up about this situation.

Mickey ran his teeth over his bottom lip, like he was concentrating. “Yeah.”

Ian let them sit there for a second. It seemed like Mickey wanted to say more, but something in him was frozen solid. After a moment, Ian tried to break the tension.

“Hey, for the record, I’ve had lots of gay friends and you aren’t missing much. There’s lots of PC bullshit that’s important but took me fucking forever to learn— and even then, I never really felt like I totally belonged.” He gently nudged Mickey’s ribcage. “I guess that’s why I forgot about everyone, between work and getting to be with you all the time— I’d rather eat pizza in the mall food court with you than go to some boujee fucking café with the youth center people any day.”

The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upwards slightly. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.” His fingers went slack around the threads on his shirtsleeve he’d been picking at. “You don’t… miss it though? Bein’ around people who’re like us?”

Ian paused for a moment, imagining the youth center crew in the same room as Mickey— it would be fucking comical, like people speaking two different languages, like astronauts trying to communicate with aliens on Mars through gestures and confused looks. But that was just because Mickey didn’t know how to speak that language— he’d been kept shrouded in an abusive household with daily death threats for years, and then stowed away in prison where he didn’t have the chance to go to fucking brunches and clubs and education events like Ian could. Ian got the chance to learn all that shit— it wasn’t Mickey’s fault that he never did, and if it was anyone’s, it was all Terry’s.

Ian’s eyes flickered to Mickey’s face— he looked vulnerable and split open, like he was drifting away in all the possibilities of what could have been. When he answered, Ian spoke softly, carefully.

“I mean… I guess I do. There were nice parts of going out with people, or even those after-parties back when I used to work at the club. There’s something nice about being with your people, where you can make jokes about stuff or talk about deep shit and everyone’s on the same page. It’s hard to find that around here.” Ian tentatively crawled his hand over the blanket, letting it rest on Mickey’s knee. “S’there anything else going on?”

Mickey raised his thumb to his mouth, biting at a hangnail contemplatively. “Dunno, man. Just thinking. How it might be nice, to have friends like us. I used to be scared of hangin’ with other queers, but I think that was just some deep bullshit with Terry.” He looked up to meet Ian’s eyes. “It’d be nice to stop… hating that part of myself, or whatever.”

Ian smiled, reaching to intertwine his fingers with Mickey’s and tracing a pattern with the thumb that was free from their grasp on Mickey’s inner thigh, a soft touch of validation that Ian hoped would soak into Mickey’s skin.

“I think so too.” Ian watched the corner of Mickey’s mouth curve upwards. “I can definitely hit up some of the people I used to hang with, and see if they wanna get coffee or something? With the two of us? Only if you want.”

Mickey nodded— then chuckled a breathy laugh, like he was relieved. “Fuck it. Yeah.”

Ian couldn’t help it; Mickey looked so fucking sweet and so relieved that he had to press a kiss to the top of his head. Mickey squirmed underneath him, bristling like a cat that didn’t want to be pet like he did with most of Ian’s soft touches— but Ian just grinned and doubled down, pressing another slower peck onto Mickey’s temple. Mickey blew out a slow breath.

“Don’t know what I’d fuckin’ wear to a brunch with a bunch of Northside do-gooder gays,” he said after a moment, his voice wavering so slightly that no one except Ian would have noticed.

Ian rolled his eyes fondly, giving Mickey’s hand a quick pulse of a squeeze. “Mickey, are you kidding? Wear whatever the fuck you want. You don’t need to change yourself, that’s kind of the whole point.”

“Yeah. Fuck. Guess it is.” Mickey was quiet for a moment, but still chewing on his bottom lip, like he was building the courage to say something more. Ian could tell— he let the comfortable silence hang between them, knowing that Mickey would break it when he was ready.

“D’you think it’d be stupid if I, like, tried to… jazz up my look a bit?” He darted his eyes nervously to Ian’s face, down to their clasped hands, and then back to the covers again. “Like, uh— I don’t know. Maybe wore some shit that didn’t have holes in it. With patterns, or whatever.”

Ian felt his face split into a grin. Patterns, or whatever— god, he loved his dumbass husband so fucking much. He pressed another kiss to Mickey’s cheek— this time Mickey didn’t flinch away, his only resistance a forced roll of his eyes.

“Mick, I don’t think that’s stupid at all. I think you should dress however makes you feel good.”

“’Kay.” Mickey pursed his lips, like he was still hesitant. Ian rubbed his thumb over the back of Mickey’s hand, their fingers still clasped and hanging limply in Mickey’s lap. The silence was hanging again, and Ian could still feel the tight waves of anxiety bouncing off of Mickey. He took in a breath.

“I could… help you, y’know. If you wanted to dress a certain way. At the very least I could gas you up and tell you how hot you look.” Ian paused, smirking and running his eyes over Mickey’s torso. “But I could also help you pick shit out, or whatever. We could order some stuff online.”

Mickey looked up at him, his eyes oddly relieved and open in a way they hadn’t been in days. “Yeah?”

Ian softly smiled. “Yeah. Only if you want to. You’re you, and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. I love the way you look— hell, it drives me crazy, Mick. But— if you feel like you aren’t dressing the way that makes you feel the best, or like you’re putting on an act for other people and you don’t want to anymore— then we can figure this out.”

This time it was Mickey that initiated affection, lifting their clasped hands and pressing a quick ghost of a kiss to Ian’s wrist. Ian smiled in acknowledgement, then playfully raised his eyebrows. “You wanna look online now? I’m done working out and more than happy to help you gay up your look.”

Mickey unclasped their hands, playfully shoving Ian squarely in the chest. “Fuck you.” Then, in an uncharacteristic move from the way Mickey had been flinching away from his touches all week, Mickey leaned in closer to Ian’s chest, nestling his back on Ian’s sternum and reaching for his phone that was discarded on the blanket beside him. “Alright, hot stuff. Where’re we fucking shopping?”

Ian grinned and snapped the waistband of Mickey’s sweatpants playfully, shuffling underneath him and getting comfortable.

“’Kay, let me think. I used to order a bunch of shirts and stuff from Primark when I was going out with the youth center people. They have good denim, too.”

Mickey’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth again while he listened. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the phone’s keyboard— then, in an automatic movement, he quickly shoved his phone into Ian’s hand, cheerfully wriggling back into Ian’s chest. Ian smirked and unlocked the phone, happy to take the reins— online shopping for fashion was clearly lightyears out of Mickey’s comfort zone.

Ian navigated over to the Primark homepage, plastered with torsos of toned models wearing striped button ups and ripped jeans. His thumb pressed down onto the “denim” tab, and he started to slowly scroll through the rows of options, holding the phone so Mickey could see.

“I don’t know what you really want, but they’ve got pretty cheap pants and shit that’re good quality…” Ian let his voice trail off, speaking softly to where Mickey was lying on his chest in a voice that he knew was tickling the shell of Mickey’s ear. Mickey almost seemed… nervous, or at the very least paralyzed by the wealth of options. He raised his thumb to his mouth, anxiously biting the hangnail again.

“I guess those ripped ones don’t look too bad.”

Ian clicked on the picture Mickey was referring to. They were black jeans, a dark wash and skinny cut, with patches ripped on both knees. Ian felt something well in his chest, probably an overreaction to a pair of jeans— but these jeans were perfect for Mickey. They weren’t too much, weren’t overly fashionable, but they still felt more clean-cut than the baggy pants Mickey usually threw on. These jeans were badass, and totally aligned with Mickey’s don’t-fuck-with-me vibe, but they were deliberate. Stylish. Like they were saying here the fuck I am.

“Yeah?” Ian knew Mickey could tell he was smiling from his voice.

Mickey smirked, craning his neck and turning to look up at Ian. “Yeah. Think I can pull ‘em off?”

Ian pressed his lips together. “Fuck yeah. You’re gonna look so good.”

Mickey just gave a satisfied smile, and nestled back against Ian’s chest again. “Let’s get ‘em, then.”

[fenristheorem]

New Era Lance Headcanons

I told myself I wouldn’t do this before episode 4 came out... but here I am.

I originally wanted to wait until ANE episode 4 was out to post any of my own headcanons for Lance, but I know they had a fire at one of their locations recently and that has delayed the release of the episode (my heart goes out to them), so I figured I should just go ahead and post some headcanons because I’ve been dying to do so.

~Headcanons under the cut because these are long~

General:

Twice a year, on their birthday and the anniversary of his death, Lance brings Floppy (because I theorize he adopted Floppy) to visit Valkyon’s grave. Really, this can happen at nearly any time of the year - but seeing as Lance is busy as Chief of Obsidian Guard, he can’t always make time to visit his brother’s grave. However, Lance always makes sure to find time to visit the grave with Floppy on these two special dates. He'll even specifically ask Huang Hua to try and make sure his schedule isn't too busy on these two days. He never says why, but it's not hard to guess.

Lance occasionally talks out loud... to his brother... distantly hoping that - despite the fact that he’s dead - Valk will somehow hear him and by some miracle respond to his brother. He doesn’t do this very often, only when he finds himself caught in a low moment where he feels truly isolated from everyone and the ache to have his brother by his side again echos through him like thunder through a mountain valley, but when he does it means he really needs the comfort. No one in the guard knows this about him; he makes sure that he never does this in public or where anyone could find him doing this. Valkyon’s death effected nearly everyone in the guard, but Lance was still his brother and doesn’t believe most people would understand the full extent of his regrets and, further more, his ways of coping with this great loss.

Lance never visited the re-formed crystal created by Leiftan and Erika. Not once - in all 7 years. He never felt he had the right to because this situation and all his pain was primarily caused by him and, therefore, he needs to bear the pain as part of taking responsibility for his actions. The crystal room became a symbol of hope and forging forward into a new era, and while Lance is grateful for being given a chance to redeem, he's aware that he has a long way to go before he has made up for everything he's done, if he ever could. He feels he needs to find his own hope from within and help guide the guard with it, not rely on the guard and the new crystal to provide him with hope for the future.

Romantic:

Lance is very used to being alone by now. Because of this, he keeps his romantic partner at a distance when they first start off. It’s not that he’s not interested - it’s just that he’s settling into the idea that someone actually wants to be closer to him after everything he’s done, especially the woman he threw off a cliff. He’s not entirely sure how to react to a woman finding romantic interest in him, hell he’s not even sure he deserves it. It's been years since he's allowed himself to consider romantic companionship, so he's widely used to being his own rock. However, once they’ve been together for a while, he’ll trust himself (and her) a bit more and actually allow himself to be a bit more comfortable and minorly impulsive around her. Slowly he’ll allow himself to throw a few jokes around, he’ll allow himself to share his opinion on things around her more, and he’ll find it a little easier to smile each day. Now he’s not one to hide his emotions, but he certainly keeps himself in check to avoid causing damage or pain as he's painfully aware that heavy emotions can influence people. However, this disappears when he begins to trust his partner more; he's less hesitant and more confident that she won't shun him for having strong emotions and opinions on certain things.

Once they’ve been together for a while and his romantic partner has effectively torn down the walls of isolation he built around himself, she’ll find he’s... a bit territorial. After all, he’s allowing himself to become attached to someone for the first time in years; why wouldn’t he be attentive and watchful with his newfound companion? He’s not openly aggressive towards others when jealous or feeling territorial (in the rare case that he is, as he’s learned later on in the relationship that he has nothing to be insecure about), he refuses to bring that sort of disruption to the guard, but he’s certainly not above throwing Guardienne over his shoulder (without his armor on, of course) when he’s reminded of a moment earlier in the day where another man seemed to be just a bit too interested in what she was saying. Pair that with a kind, naive smile from her and a few jokes, and perhaps an encounter with a Leiftan at some point, and you have the perfect combination for a semi-jealous ice dragon who suddenly craves attention from his lover. He’ll take her over his shoulder and saunter over to the nearby bed in who-ever’s room they’re in, lay her gently down and rest himself beside her, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her close to his chest as they settle in to stay like that for minutes to hours depending on how long they have together. She better not hope to leave anytime soon then. Unless they have somewhere to be, Lance is unlikely to let her go for any reasons; he wants her attention and he's going to get it.

Lance is an ice dragon. This is well known by now and he's proud of his heritage. However, with this also comes all the responsibility of being an ice dragon; specifically the instincts. This is also something his partner needs to learn to deal with if they hope to maintain a relationship with him, because he's certainly not about to rebuke himself for having natural instincts (unless it truly begins to become a problem or he accidentally hurts someone). These instincts can range from being very territorial and possessive at certain times and situations, to keeping a special watch on her to make sure she isn't hurt at times where she could be prone to it, or treating her like a living goddess merely because the mood strikes him and he wants to show appreciation for her presence. These are only a few examples. When do these instincts hit hardest? He's still trying to figure that out, seeing that he hasn't been with anyone for a while. However, they can effect him in different degrees. Some days he'll hold her for an extra five minutes longer before she leaves to hang out with Mathieu, Koori and Karenn, other days he'll request that Huang Hua allow him to escort her on a minor mission in the forests surrounding HQ because he wants to do everything he can to protect her and give them time alone together. If they're interrupted on their mission by someone else, Lance will be deathly quiet and still as his partner and the newcomer carry on their conversation, only speaking when spoken too, and he won't be mean, but internally he'll be quite irritated at the fact that their alone-time is being interrupted when he planned for them to be alone for a while. Ideally, his partner will pick up on his distance and wrap up the conversation, and once the newcomer leaves Lance won't hesitate to take his partner by the wrist (gently) and briskly drag her away from the direction of her conversational partner. When he feels they're far away enough, he'll abruptly turn around and press her against a tree, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck with a faint growl. The best thing his partner can do in this time is hold him. He doesn't need comfort or reassurance, he just needs time alone with her. However, that's one of the extremes of his instincts. Most of the time he acts on subtle instincts. He'll pull her into a secluded corner of the guard for a few minutes to talk privately and share a few kisses, or he'll be passing by and see something in the market that she said she needed, or perhaps he sees something he thinks she'll look good with or he knows she'll like, and then track her down after purchasing to gift his find to her. At the end of the day, he just wants her to know he appreciates her, and when the sudden urge to do something with or for her strikes he has a hard time letting it go. And while Lance is very independent and doesn't wish to oppress or suffocate his partner, his instincts can become a bit overbearing at certain times. All his partner needs to do is confide in him about this and he'll try and make them a bit more comfortable (after all, his instincts tell him to care for her before anything else) but she will need to try and tolerate this as much as possible, if it's even an issue to begin with. However, Lance is quite confident that she'll enjoy the intimate side of his instincts more often than the domestic instincts, no matter how she feels about the domestic side...

I’m considering making Lance headcanons a routine post on my page - maybe one or two posts every couple of days. I have a few more headcanons that I can post, and I’m sure I’ll have more after ep. 4 is out, but I’m always open to writing specific headcanons upon request.

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

[sirenprincess15]

Please Don't Leave Me Chapter 9

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Author: SirenPrincess

Description: What if Aleksander hadn’t answered the door when Ivan interrupted the war room kissing? What if Aleksander and Alina had a bit more time to get to know each other before Baghra told her his true identity? Alina is the only one who can comfort Aleksander through his nightmares. Will she leave once she knows who he is?

This story is based on the show version and features a soft on the inside, hard on the outside Aleksander with an emphasis on emotional hurt/comfort and angst. If you are looking for lots of hurt!Aleksander thoughts, then this story is for you. Mal exists but pretty much solely to cause Aleksander some angst. Don’t worry. It will be a Darklina ending.

Chapter 1 is a missing scene at the end of Ep 4, and Chapter 2 takes place alongside Ep 5 and then diverges from canon there.

Pairings: Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, bits of Ivan/Fedyor

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Grisha are oppressed in this universe, and I don’t shy away from showing the horrors of that. There may eventually be mentions of canon-typical torture (Fjerdan pyres), death of family members, and cruelty to Grisha children. It’s not the focus, but that backdrop is definitely there and comes up as characters discuss their past.

In this chapter: After centuries of being alone, Aleksander struggles to share his problems.

Chapter 9

Aleksander was busy working in his office. The roaring fire warmed him as he poured over ship manifests and army documentation on this Dmitry. If they could find who Dmitry traveled with, who was likely to be loyal to him, then perhaps they could identify any threats before they even came to the Little Palace.

When Inessa and Fedyor delivered Alina, Aleksander rushed to her side. “Thank you,” he said, dismissing them. He pulled her into his arms, rested his chin on top of her head, and deeply inhaled the scent of her. She was safe. “How was your day?”

“Boring. Fedyor and Inessa wouldn’t even let me go outside, not even for training. I’m never going to get stronger if I don’t train.”

“It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution for what?”

He ignored her. She didn’t need the stress of knowing how anxious their enemies were to kill her. “I thought we’d take dinner in here tonight, if that’s okay with you.” His emotions were a mess. As haunted as he had been since Marie’s death, it was even worse now that the continued active threat was confirmed. He was relieved to be with her because he could see she was safe, but he was also still deeply ashamed of his panic attack from the nightmare the night before. He feared she would bring it up. He couldn’t talk about it. Eating in the main hall would stop her from doing so, but he was worried about security and didn’t want her with a large crowd. Her food would be easier to poison there, even with her taster. Truthfully, though, Aleksander wasn’t sure he had it in him to perform the intimidating General Kirigan act tonight, and he wanted her nearby for safety. Then he worried about what would happen when it was time for sleep. He had unleashed shadows last night, and they could have hurt her. He would never be able to forgive himself if he harmed her. That morning he had decided they’d have to sleep apart, but that was before he’d known of this new threat, of spies sneaking into the palace to check her routines. There was no way to know if the man he’d killed had been the first or the last. He couldn’t risk letting her sleep without someone strong guarding over her, and she’d never agree to let someone like Ivan stand over her bed. She had to stay here. Selfishly, he was grateful to have the excuse to keep her in his bed.

“Of course.” Her expression begged him to answer her previous question, but he didn’t. He well remembered what it was like to be afraid everywhere you went at all times. He could protect her from that.

“I do have quite a bit of work to complete, though. I’m afraid I’ll be quite busy. I did take the liberty of having Genya select some books from the library for you.”

She raised an eyebrow, as if signaling to him that she saw right through his attempts to distract her, but all she said was, “That was kind of you.”

He sat back at his desk and tried to focus on the lists in front of him. Something wasn’t adding up. Dmitry would appear on a ship crossing into West Ravka, but not on a return, and then somehow a time later be on a manifest for a ship crossing the wrong way. How was that possible? Was he missing manifests or was Dmitry paying someone off to keep his name off the lists?

Alina stepped behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. “Alek, you’re so tense. The stress coming off you is nearly unbearable. What happened today?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

She sighed. “Are we really going to do this thing tonight?”

He lifted his eyes to take in the annoyed look on her face. “Thing?”

“You know, where you pretend to be the oh so busy and important General Kirigan who uses his sense of authority to push people away? And then acts like he couldn’t possibly have any feelings or needs of his own? He’s fine. Everything is fine. He doesn’t need any help.”

He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, but she had. “Accurate,” he admitted.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret. The act doesn’t work with girls who have shared your bed.”

He laughed. Only she could call him on his behavior like this without irritating him. Only she could make him smile when he was otherwise so miserable. “I can assure you it worked fine on girls who have shared my bed. Apparently, it doesn’t work on the one girl I have let into my heart.”

“You’ve let me into your heart? So … let me help you.”

“Alina, it’s not that simple …”

“You can’t bear this burden alone, Aleksander. I won’t let you. Whatever is happening, it is crushing you. If not me, then get Ivan in here and talk to him. ”

“You want me to summon Ivan in here? This must be serious.”

“He is a good friend to you, and I know you trust him. I just want you to let someone help. You are not alone. This,” she said, putting her hand over the papers, “is not yours alone to figure out. Stop trying to solve everything with no support.”

“I’m not … used to having support.”

She nodded, took his hand, and squeezed it. “I know. I’m not really either. We’ve learned to do things alone, to hide pain and keep it to ourselves, but I know that problems are better solved together. Together, Aleksander. Stop trying to protect me from scary truths. Fedyor scanned every room we went into before he’d let me enter. I’m not stupid, Aleksander. If I can handle you cutting a Druskelle in half on top of me, I can handle whatever is threatening us now. Stop trying to push me away when it comes to important things. Let me help.”

He sighed. She was frightened already; she might as well know the truth. “Zoya caught a man trying to break in today. I have her guarding the palace exterior since she can’t seem to behave herself around you. He is working for Zlatan and was sent to spy on you. They’re making a plan for a better attempt on your life.”

Her shoulders slumped and her gaze fell to the floor as she took that in. “Hunted wherever I go. Still not used to that.”

He stood and wrapped his arms around her. “I will not let them succeed. I promise you that you will come to no harm.”

She looked into his eyes, stared there for a while, then found her strength. “Tell me about the papers.”

He quickly filled her in on what he had discovered about Dmitry and the mystery of the paperwork. It did actually feel good to have someone to discuss his findings with and not keep the thoughts spinning in his head. He talked through all of his ideas, no matter if they led nowhere. She indulged him and asked appropriate questions at all the right times. Finally, he arrived out loud at the stuck place he was in his head. He had so many theories, but how did he figure out if any of them were right?

She was quiet as she turned from page to page. Dinner arrived, and they ate in silence as they continued to try to find a pattern among the papers--the same captain, the same record keeper, accomplices that might travel with him. All ideas led nowhere, but they continued to look.

Hours later, Alina stood and walked into the war room.

“Alina?” He trailed after her. She was staring at the map. After a long time, he prompted her. “What is it?”

“I’m sure it’s stupid.” She shook her head and hugged herself.

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that. That’s not you. Those are words from your past.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Hmm, well then, let’s hear it. I’m frustrated. Maybe if it’s really stupid we can have a good laugh about it.”

“I used to stare at the map and dream of finding a way around. I was told there is no around, but … is there? Any secret path or …”

Aleksander felt his stomach twist as the implications became clear. “There are reports of Fjerdans in West Ravka, rumors that Zlatan is aligning with them, letting Druseklle ...” A vision of Nina being tortured popped into his head. He had to fight his jaw from trembling so she couldn’t see how upset this made him. “There is an around if you’re in bed with the enemy. He’s going through Fjerda.”

She gasped as it came together in her head. “He sends his emissary to Fjerda with messages, who then gets a free pass into our country to deliver orders to his spies, but then he needs the quick return across to do it again. How long would it take to travel through Fjerda? Check the dates. Do they match?”

“Fjerdans. It’s worse than I thought.” He could feel the Fjerdan fires licking at his skin.

They spent another hour pouring over records and checking their theory. Finally, Alina yawned. “We should get some sleep.”

He wanted to tell her to go on ahead, but he didn’t want her sleeping in a room away from him. He almost offered to just watch over her, but he feared he would accidentally fall asleep and end up as he had the night before. His chest tightened with worry as he considered possibilities, none of which were acceptable.

“I tell you to come to bed, and that sense of dread is what I get? I might think you don’t want to …” she tried to lightly tease.

“You know why,” he whispered, still not wanting to talk about it.

“Which is all the more reason to get you to sleep soon. Your nightmares are worse the longer you try to keep yourself awake. Have you noticed?”

He sighed. “This morning I was trying to work myself up to telling you that it’s not safe to sleep with me anymore, but now with this information on this potential attack, it’s not safe to sleep away from me either.”

“Don’t you dare do that to me!”

“What?” To her?

“Don’t you realize what you do for me? For years I cried myself to sleep every night, Aleksander. For years! I used to lie there and wonder what was wrong with me that no one could want me, how it was possible for me to not belong anywhere. I slept with a weapon under my pillow to fend off anyone who might come to hurt me. And now I sleep in your arms. Desired. Loved. Don’t you dare take that away from me.”

His heart ached for her. Was it possible she needed him as much as he needed her? “I hadn’t realized …”

“No matter how bad our nightmares get, we stay together. You make sure I can sleep, and I will do the same for you. Just promise to wake me up tonight. You can’t get yourself overtired like that again.”

“And you will wake me if the shadows start again?”

“I promise. Right away.”

“Okay,” he agreed, feeling less selfish about allowing it if it benefited her too. It was better than the alternative of some spy finding her room in the night or her lying awake with a knife under her pillow wondering if someone was coming to kill her. He would have to take care of himself more for her--get an adequate amount of sleep, actually stop and eat meals instead of working through every waking hour, maybe even share some of his stresses with her. He would do those things if it meant he could be there to protect her.

“Now,” she said, kissing him gently. “What do I have to do to get you out of that kefta so I can kiss away all those battle scars?”

[mostgeckcellent]

my submission for the @drinkwithme-exchange for @fuckyeahlesmiserables

I originally wrote something completely different, and I didn't like it at all, but you mentioned you liked my Old Guard series, so I wrote a new installment of that for you instead!

Platonic Ships: Eponine & Musichetta, Eponine & Grantaire

Eponine swirled her glass. Cosette was still with Enjolras - she’d dragged their newly-returned-from-the-dead friend off pretty quick, but Eponine was still processing. Did she believe him? She wasn’t sure. He’d convinced Bahorel, though, and Baz had never been the type to believe just anything without questioning it, especially something as batshit crazy as all of this.

Immortals. What next?

She drained what remained of her whiskey and coke, and stood. She needed to go for a walk.

Eponine was three blocks away from Jehan’s little house when Musichetta caught up to her.

“Hey.” Musichetta put a hand on Eponine’s shoulder. “You okay?”

Eponine stopped walking, lit a cigarette. “Yeah. Sure.”

“You know it’s okay if you’re not,” Musichetta said, never one to just back down.

“Yeah,” Eponine repeated with a sigh. “You want one?”

“Sure.” Musichetta took the offered cigarette; Eponine lit it for her.

They stood in silence for a while. Eponine liked that about Musichetta, that they could just be. That she didn’t have to talk, or fill the space.

“It’s fucked up, right?” Eponine said eventually.

“Yeah.” Musichetta didn’t have to ask what. Enjolras’ return was a miracle unlooked for, of course, but it was bittersweet, too. They’d mourned him. Not moved on, never moved on - it felt impossible, when there were no answers - but he’d left them.

Eponine understood. She did, probably better than any of the rest of them. She of all people knew about needing to run away and not look back, knew about new lives and new beginnings and the colliding of worlds.

It still hurt, to have been left behind.

“It’s good to have answers,” Musichetta said eventually, when their cigarettes were burned nearly to stubs. “Fucking weird answers, mind you-”

Eponine laughed, sharp. “Fucking weird answers,” she agreed.

“-But it’s good to have them,” Musichetta finished.

“Yeah,” Eponine agreed. “I’m glad he’s alive. And hey, if he really is immortal, I can shank him for doing that to us,” she grinned, all teeth and no joy.

Musichetta nudged her in the side. “You’re not gonna stab Enjolras,” she shook her head.

“I might,” Eponine protested.

“You’re not going to stab Enjolras,” Musichetta repeated sternly. “I know you’re mad. We all are, a little. It’s a lot. But-”

“But what? But he had to?” She knew that. “It wasn’t safe?” She knew that too. She dropped her cigarette, put it out with her heel. Could hear Enjolras’ voice in the back of her head, chiding her for littering, for letting the chemicals inevitably leach into the water somewhere. She ignored it.

“Yes,” Musichetta said, as if it were that simple. “And he came back in the end.”

“Because he got caught,” Eponine snarled. “Not because-”

“He cares about us. He cares about you,” Musichetta said softly.

“Does he?”

“You know he does.”

Eponine sighed, looked away. “I’ll forgive him eventually,” she muttered. “I’m just - I’m not ready yet.”

“Okay,” Musichetta agreed with a soft smile. “Can I hug you?”

Eponine rolled her eyes a little, but she opened her arms, and really, she’d never admit it out loud, but Musichetta’s hugs had a way of making her feel like everything really might be alright, someday.

--

Enjolras would stay for three days. That’s what he said when he got off the phone with his friends. Three days. His friends would make the drive today, his new family.

Eponine didn’t resent him for it. Or - she did, a little. He’d ran off with his new friends to a new place and left them all to pick up the pieces, and now his new friends were coming here. But it was fine, and Eponine didn’t resent him.

Maybe if she repeated it enough she’d convince herself.

She knew she wasn’t being fair to him. She knew she was wasting time - if they only had three days, she ought to be making the most of it, not sulking in the bathroom.

“You’re going to regret avoiding him the whole time when he has to leave again,” came Musichetta’s voice from the other side of the door, because Musichetta was a fucking mind reader.

“Maybe so,” Eponine called back, but she unlocked the door and opened it.

“Apparently they’ll be here in around an hour,” Musichetta reported. “They started the drive this morning.”

“Great,” Eponine muttered.

“Ep.” Musichetta frowned. Apparently, sympathy hours had run out. “Come on. They’re important to him.”

“We used to be important to him,” Eponine scowled.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Musichetta stepped into the bathroom with Eponine, shutting the door behind her. “I love you, you know I do, but he still loves us. And you’re going to feel like shit when he’s gone, and you’ve just been resentful at him the whole time. Did he do a shitty thing? Yes. Do you have a right to be upset by it all? Absolutely. But you’re going to kick yourself for wasting the time you’ve been given.”

Eponine glared at Musichetta for a long moment, but Musichetta was used to her moods, and didn’t back down an inch.

Eponine deflated, sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. “So, we’ve moved on from pity to ass-kicking, huh?”

“You know the drill, baby,” Musichetta grins at her. “One day for wallowing, and then we get the fuck back up again.”

“Ugh. I fucking hate you.”

“No you don’t.” Musichetta clapped Eponine on the back. “C’mon. Let’s go do this thing.”

--

Enjolras’ friends were.. Well. They were an odd bunch, which meant, in the end, that they fit right in. Marius was looking up at Courfeyrac with the widest puppy eyes, enraptured by the tales he wove. Marius wasn’t the only one - even Eponine had to admit the man had charisma. He’d won over most of the group within moments of arriving, cheerful and kind as he was. Combeferre was a quiet, steady presence beside him, the pair of them orbiting each other in a way that was as enthralling as it was sickeningly sweet. Joly had managed to tear Combeferre away for a separate conversation at some point; Eponine wasn’t listening, had stopped listening when they had started discussing the more gruesome points in medical history. And then there was Feuilly - she was gorgeous, and better yet, she swore like a sailor and beat Bahorel at arm wrestling three times in a row. Enjolras’ new friends had been folded neatly into the Amis, like it was easy, like they fit.

Well, most of them. One man kept to the corner, nursing a drink and watching Enjolras, always watching Enjolras.

“Grantaire, right?” Eponine leaned against the wall beside him.

He looked over at her, startled. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“A bit old for him, aren’t you?” she asked, because she wasn’t stupid, she knew what it meant that Grantaire stared like that, that Enjolras only blushed when stumbling over his introduction of Grantaire, and not the others.

Grantaire snorted. “You have no idea,” he admitted. “But he knows what he wants, and I’ve learned not to get in the way of his decisions.”

“Hm.” Eponine sized Grantaire up. Honestly, she’d assumed Enjolras was some sort of monk, before he’d disappeared. He’d never dated, never so much as looked.

He definitely looked at Grantaire, though. In fact, he was looking now, looking away from his conversation with Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Marius and Cosette to stare at Grantaire, and it wasn’t a look Eponine had ever seen him direct at anyone before.

“You’re not what I’d have expected for him,” she said.

“Tell me about it.” Grantaire didn’t seem to care to argue the point.

Eponine narrowed her eyes at him.

He glanced at her, and shrugged. “I love him,” he said after a moment. “When I was ready to give up on the world, there he was, all..” He waved a hand in Enjolras’ direction. “Well, you know him. You know what he’s like - justice and whatever, Apollo fucking incarnate, the way he speaks..” Grantaire trailed off. “I don’t know how anyone can hear him talk and not love him.”

“I dunno, he’s not really my type,” Eponine said drily, a smile beginning to curl at the edge of her lips despite herself.

Grantaire laughed. “Must be weird, all of this.”

“Now there’s an understatement,” Eponine muttered, eyes locked on Enjolras, who had returned to his conversation.

“He’s not going to age,” Grantaire said, not quite casual.

“I guess not,” Eponine agreed.

“It’s going to kill him, watching you all age and die.” Grantaire crossed his arms over his chest.

Eponine.. hadn’t thought about that. “Is that why he stayed away?”

“Absolutely not.” Grantaire huffed out a laugh, though he didn’t seem happy about it. “No, he wanted so badly to get in touch, no matter how much we - I - warned him he’d just get hurt. He thinks it’s worth it.” Grantaire looked around the room, and Eponine could see when he softened. “Maybe he was right,” he allowed. “I just hope it doesn’t break him.”

“So you’re the reason he stayed away,” Eponine narrowed her eyes at him.

Grantaire glanced at her. “I just want him to be safe and happy. Getting attached to mortals? Never ends well.”

“It wasn’t your call to make,” Eponine frowned at him.

“No,” Grantaire agreed. “It wasn’t. I didn’t try to stop him from coming here, I just..” He sighed.

Eponine sighed too. “You’re right,” she said eventually. “It’ll kill him to watch us die. And he won’t look away, I know he won’t, he’ll be here.”

“Yeah,” Grantaire agreed.

Sad wasn’t the right word for Grantaire, Eponine thought. Weary, to his bones, with sadness etched into him… for a moment, she felt like she glimpsed him properly, ancient and grand as he was. And then he was just a guy again - a young man in a green hoodie, someone she’d pass on the street and never give a second thought to.

“You’ll be there for him, when it happens,” Eponine said like it was a certainty. She had to hope - believe - that it was.

“Yes,” Grantaire agreed. “I’ll be there. So will they.” He gestured to where Enjolras was gesticulating wildly, accidentally smacking Courfeyrac’s nose when a gesture went too wide. Courfeyrac just laughed, and tweaked Enjolras’ nose in return. Enjolras squawked indignantly, and then the whole group of them were laughing, Cosette and Marius included, and Bossuet, who had joined them at some point.

“You’ll keep in touch,” Eponine said. It wasn’t a question. She held out her phone.

Grantaire looked at her for a long moment. She didn’t squirm, didn’t flinch, just raised an eyebrow.

Grantaire nodded, took the phone, and plugged his own number in. Enjolras’, too, for good measure.

“I was determined to hate you all,” Eponine admitted as she took the phone back.

“I get that,” Grantaire agreed.

“I don’t,” Eponine pocketed the phone. “He seems happy. And he’s out there, making a difference or whatever. If he can’t do it with us, I’m.. glad, I guess, that he can do it with you.”

“He’d stay if he could,” Grantaire said.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Eponine shook her head. “He cares about you a lot. And them, too, your whole bunch.”

“He’s got enough in his heart of all of us.” Grantaire looked at her.

Eponine smiled a little. “Yeah. Yeah, he does.”

[leftonraed]

The Night We Met - Episode 3

pairing : Taehyung x OC   genre : bodyguard!au, singleparent!au, idol!au   word count : 2.3k   summary — Taehyung has a talk with his father. He also starts to catch feelings. Prologue | ep.1 | ep.2 | ep.3 | ep.4 | ep.5 | ep.6 | ep.7 

You park the car neatly along the sidewalk. When the engine dies down, nothing else can be heard beside the subdued tweeting in the trees nearby playing with the agreeable silence the upscale neighbourhood is plunged in.

A cold wind blows on your face as you step out of the vehicle. There are leaves everywhere, covering the ground with hues of brown, red, orange and yellow. You walk around the car and see Taehyung adjusting Hina’s beanie and gloves while she waits patiently.

With a quick nod, you let him know the vicinity is clear and show you’re ready to escort them to his parents’ house.

He wraps her hand in his and leads the way. You keep a small distance behind. He stops in front of a tall front gate and rings the bell. You keep looking both ways until it opens and they are inside.

Taehyung notices his father at the other end of the path, waving and smiling warmly. He gestures back but gets surprised when the little girl lets go of his hand.

“Hina! Come back!” He orders as she runs away, giggling, towards the big piles of leaves gathered at the foot of the old tree in the garden.

“Go. I’ll watch her.” He hears you quietly saying right next to his ear, the sudden proximity making his heart jump hard.

“But-” He mumbles, flustered.

“She’ll join you after.”

Taehyung heads to his father reluctantly, gazing steadily at Hina making a mess around herself.  

“Don’t worry about it,” grins the older man. “It’s been a while since we’ve heard someone laugh in here.”

“She never listens to him,” he complains and it reminds his father of his son’s childhood days.

He stops at the doorstep. “Did you ever?” Taehyung stares at him dumbstruck. “I’m just kidding. Come. Is your friend joining us?”

He looks back where you’re standing ramrod straight, fixing Hina with an attentive look.

“She’s watching her.”

Taehyung welcomes the warmth of the house with contentment and starts getting rid of the thick layers he’s dressed himself in. The fire crackling in the living-room is the sole sound and source of light inside. He follows his father.

“It’s getting colder this week. I’m heating up tea.”

Taehyung offers a soft smile.

“So?” His father looks at him pointedly, sitting next to him.

“What?”

“You think I don’t know what’s between the two of you?”

Taehyung frowns, taken aback. “What?”

“I’m no fool. I know you like her.”

“B-but- I mean- No- It’s not what you think!”

His father chuckles the more he gets mixed up. “I’m just messing with you. What’s with that face you’re making?”

Taehyung pouts, feeling his cheeks warming up.

“I didn’t catch her name.”

“______.” He answers softly. “She’s Seojun’s replacement.”

“She seems reliable and… one-of-a-kind.”

“She is,” he trails to himself and gets a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye. “Why are you looking at me like that?”  

“I’m sure she has you under her thumb.”

Taehyung crosses his arms, slightly upset. “That’s not even true.” He opens one eye and catches him stifling a snicker. “Stop it!”

“Still so easy to get you worked up I see.”

Silence comes again and their smiles die down.

“How’s mom?”

He hears his father’s intake of air, trying to come up with an answer. “I don’t really know... She started eating again.” He looks at his son, “I guess she’s getting better. But I don’t know what this really means. I don’t think we’ll ever get over what happened.”

Taehyung keeps staring into space, at a loss for words. He can hear Hina’s laughter from the outside and his heart tightens as chaotic thoughts fill his mind.  

“Maybe-”

“Hm?”

Taehyung sounds unsure about what he’s about to say. “I was thinking- If I left Hina here… It’d help?”

“We miss her terribly,” he sighs. “She does bring a lot of happiness. She looks so much like him. And you.” His father smiles tenderly. “But she grew attached to you. And we know why. I think you’re her best solution.”

“I just wan’ help mom and you get well fast.”

“I know. I know... Don’t worry too much over us, you already have a lot on your plate. We look after each other and- to know Hina and you have each other, it helps us feel better.”

A part of him feels relieved about keeping Hina home but he can’t ignore the heaviness in his chest the longer he thinks of his parents on their own with their sorrow.

Taehyung lets out a breathy chuckle. “ You know she-… She’s started to call me ‘daddy’ and-” he sees his father gazing back. “I don’t really know how to react.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

He shakes his head. “Not anymore.”

“Then, it shouldn’t tick over in your mind. As long as she feels safe and you’re still managing… things… Cause you are, right?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung promptly reassures him. His mouth stretches in a small grin. “I- I get a lot of help back there.”

“I’m sure you do.” His father reaches for his shoulder, smiling as well. “I’m serious, Taehyung. No need to get concerned about anything. We got this. All of us.”

They share a look, simple, yet holding so much more.

The kettle’s suddenly whistling, prompting the old man on his feet.

“Get’em inside. I’ll go wake you mom.”

Taehyung stands up and heads to the entrance. He opens the door and is a little surprised to see you already there, assisting Hina in climbing up the stairs.

The tip of her nose has turned pink and he can feel the freshness of her palms through the fabric when she hugs his leg. He hurries her inside after getting her shoes off.

He steps aside to let you in.

“Oh, wait…” He suddenly says. You look back, caught off guard as you watch him reach for the top of your head. “You have a leaf stuck in your hair.”

The moment is short but feels drawn out. His fingers are delicate in their motions, you can even feel him lightly combing your hair before he abruptly stops when he catches you staring back intently.

His cheeks warm up yet again. “Done.”

“I suggest you get in before we all freeze to death.” His father puts an end to your staring contest.

You both look away and watch Hina hugging her grandmother who just came down the stairs. She meets your eyes, surprised.

“Mom, this is ______.”

________________________________________

Taehyung’s not sure what to think of your closeness with Hina. It’s as if he feels obliged to feel bad about you watching her while he’s working on his new songs either in studios or shows venues when you’re only paid to keep any harm from her and not play babysitter. He still remembers that one day he firmly told her not to use walls as a written medium and started drawing on your body after you've told her she could and showed the tattoo on your thigh.

He was both befuddled and surprised to note that particularity. And he hates how stoical you always seem to be about everything. He wants to be able to read your mind but you’ve never indulged him. He gets more curious about your opinion of him as a performer.

As grateful he is for your presence, he’s come to realise, after only a couple of months in your company, its impact on their relationship. It’s not as if you’ve been trying to create any particular bond with his niece, yet you’ve managed to get Hina to ask after you when you’re nowhere to be seen. He never feels jealous about it, it simply makes him smile. He’d even find himself missing you oftentimes.

Today’s Wednesday and it’s awfully quiet this afternoon.

Taehyung’s scrolling endlessly through movies and dramas when Hina comes plopping down on the couch, face first, next to him.

“Are you bored ?” He smiles at her and playfully taps her bum.

Another minute passes by and he turns off the T.V. to grab his phone. It’s seven pm.

“Wanna go see ______?”

Hina pulls herself straight up at the mention of your name and squeals a little ‘yes’ as if he’s just had the best idea ever.

“Let’s go get prepared.”

Not long after, they’re already on their way to the gym where you’re always spending your free time on his days off. It’s not a long walk by foot. He knows he’s taking risks but he doesn’t feel like driving.

With Hina in one arm, he pushes open the front door. The air inside is thick and heavy with the smell of sweat. Music’s blasting, although low enough for him to hear the fit man greeting him at the entrance.

Taehyung adjusts his sunglasses on his fringe. “I’m looking for _______. We agreed to meet.” He lies.

“Wait here, I’ll go get her.”

“Thank you.”

He watches the man walk around a corner. He lets Hina sit back on the counter to ease his arm tired after holding her the whole walk.

“_______!” She exclaims, which has Taehyung looking where she’s pointing.

He spots you a few feet away walking in his direction and chatting with another man. He’s staring back quietly and feels satisfied when he notices the surprise in your eyes for a split second at their sight.

He feels Hina tugging at his collar to get back in his arms. She waves at you excitedly when you’re near. The man in your company stops behind to chat with another person crossing his way.

“Hi,” you hear Taehyung breath. He hopes you don’t notice his staring.

Your outfit isn’t much different from what you usually wear at home when you work out but your chest is glowing with your effort enticingly and your hair sticking to the flushed skin of your neck. Your worked up expression makes his stomach feel tingly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Uhm- We… Hina wanted to see you.”

“That’s really stupid of you.” You frown a little. “What if something happened on your way here? Or if someone recognised you?”

Taehyung feels himself warming up at your worry.

“We took care of it. Hina, show her,” he smiles proudly and raises a finger to tap and have his sunglasses falling down on his nose. Your gaze shifts back and forth to his cheeky smile and Hina who’s keeping a tight tiny hand on hers, obviously too big for her, clearly playing along.

“Secwet.” She hushes.

You pinch your lips not to let yourself get endeared by her.

“______?” The stranger suddenly says.

Taehyung’s eyes instantly look at his hand cupping your waist to fit himself between you and the counter. He notes he’s barely taller than him but his physique is near perfection. You do nothing to take his hand off of you. His smile dies a little.

“New friends?”

“Uhm-,” you turn your head to glance at him quickly, “Shownu, this is Taehyung. And his niece.” You gesture between them. “Taehyung, Hina, Shownu. He owns that gym.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Shownu doesn’t seem to recognise him as he swipes his hand on his shorts and offers it. Taehyung shakes it shortly and nods. “You should come someday. We’re offering fifty percent off of membership and the first month is free.”

“Now’s not a great time.”

“Why not?”

You shake your head at Shownu. “Why are you being so nosy?”

“I’m just asking.”

Taehyung intervenes. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Great.” He smiles and stretches a hand to pinch Hina’s cheek lightly but she leans away on Taehyung’s shoulder. He grips your shoulder, looking down at you. “Have to go. I’ll text you about the thing, okay?”

You nod.

Taehyung watches you watching him walking away. He can’t help but compare himself to him and wonder if he’s your type. It itches him to know more about the two of you but he knows better. You catch him and he grins a tight-lipped smile.

_______________________________________

The walk back home is quiet. Hina’s happy about not having to wear those gigantic glasses anymore and bounces her way in front of you.

“Don’t get surprised if you’re making headlines tomorrow.”

Taehyung turns around to see you staring blankly at him, “what are you talking about?”

“I’m sure someone’s already spotted you. You’re surely all over the internet.” You say pointedly.

“Uh- No, that’s impossible.” He quickly interjects. “I was careful. And it’s too dark now.”

“You don’t know them. They’re crazy.” You suddenly breathe very closely to his face. “They’re everywhere and watching everything you do. Seojun told me all about them.”

Taehyung freezes, uneasy. “Hina!” He calls when she starts to get a little too far. “Why are you saying these things? It's scary.”

“It’ll be your fault.” You close your eyes, slightly pouting.

He picks her up when she’s at his feet. He frowns,“stop saying that.”

“Then don’t go out without telling me.”

“Alright, I got it!”

Hina looks back and forth between you two.

“Maybe, we’re being followed.”

He’s getting a little alarmed. “You think?”

“I don’t know.” You walk closer and closer until your chest presses against his arm. “The best thing we could do... would be to pretend to be a family? Taking a walk?” You drag out.

“Eh?”

You grin a little lopsided smile at his funny expression. “Yeah, like this.” You sneak an arm around his, tightening him more to yourself.

Taehyung doesn’t know how to react to your sudden move. Hina stretches her tiny hand to cup your cheek and he notices a glint of satisfaction in your eyes. “Bu- but, you’re sweaty.”

“What did you expect, fetching me from the gym?” You jerk your body away.

“No, no, no! I take it back!”

You shake your head at him and he looks away when you don’t, trying to contain himself.

////////////////////////////!\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Feedback is much appreciated Reblog if you wish to read more

[jenanigans1207]

Castle of Cards [Renga]

I said I wasn’t gonna post this on here because formatting on Tumblr is so obnoxious now, but I figure I might as well. So here’s my fix-it fic to ep 9 (so, spoilers!) where Langa and Reki finally talk it out and Reki gets the gd hug he deserves!

-- x

Everyone is looking at him.

They’re looking and pointing, whispering words behind their hands. Some are even outright shouting congratulations to him, though he barely hears it. He may respond absently, he’s not honestly sure. His brain is too occupied with one thing and one thing only, leaving no space for any of this. Compared to what he’s dealing with currently, his win against Joe barely even exists in his mind right now— it’s certainly not something he would call important currently. The words Adam, Snow, and Eve follow him around, rippling in his wake as he makes his way through the crowd. The voices all blend together, background noise to him at most.

None of them are the voice he’s looking for, the voice he needs to hear.

None of them are Reki.

“Excuse me.” Langa’s at the gate now, and he’s not really sure why. But he’s looked everywhere else and he hasn’t been able to locate Reki, so he’s running out of options and feeling a little more desperate with each passing second, with each face he sees that still isn’t Reki’s.

“Oh, Snow.” The guard glances up at him, surprised. “That was an amazing race.”

“Thanks.” Langa says absentmindedly. He glances around one more time, but no faces jump out at him. “Have you seen a red headed guy? About my age?”

“Oh, yeah.” The guard nods, his gaze far away as if he’s remembering. “He left a little while ago.”

“Left?” Langa echoes, hollow inside. He can feel his heart pounding against his ribs like drums, can feel the way he’s only a few beats away from having his ribs crack open entirely, bleeding all of these emotions out for the world to see. “Is he coming back?”

“Well, considering the fact that he gave me this,” The guard digs around in his pocket for a moment before holding his hand out between them, an S pin catching the light in his palm. “I’m going to say no.”

For a moment, everything stops. It’s just Langa and the pin, staring at each other while Langa tries to make sense of what he’s seeing. Cold dread seeps into his veins, spreading to the tips of his fingers and toes. The pin glistens in the light, bright and beautiful, just like it had so many times when it had been attached to Reki’s collar. It had caught Langa’s eye so many times, been the thing he chose to stare at when he couldn’t stare directly at Reki any longer for fear of something stupid coming out of his mouth. He knew that pin almost as well as he knew Reki.

But no, it must’ve been some other red headed guy.

The pin must belong to someone else. There’s no way it’s Reki’s pin.

It was true that Reki and Langa weren’t on the best terms, but Reki would never give up his pass to S. Just the mere thought of it sits wrong in Langa’s chest, makes him feel a little sideways. He almost wants to laugh bitterly at himself for even considering it. He knows that Reki would never. If there was one fundamental thing about Reki that could never change, it was his love for all things skating— and that certainly included S. Langa remembers the first time Reki had told him about S, the way his whole face had lit up. He can still feel Reki’s hand on his shoulder as he’d shook Langa, insisting that Langa should be more excited for such an honor.

Reki would give up breathing before he would give up S. Langa was sure of it.

“Oh.” He finally says dumbly. “That must be someone else.”

“No,” The guard shakes his head, seemingly unaware of the turmoil slowly starting to stir in Langa’s stomach, unaware of the ice in his heart, chilling him to the bone. “It was definitely that guy you usually show up with. Took me a minute to recognize him without that headband, but it was definitely him.”

It feels like the entire world is ripped out from underneath Langa’s feet.

Suddenly he’s free falling, plummeting towards some dark future that he wants nothing to do with and there doesn’t seem to be a way to slow it down. Suddenly he’s a million miles from Reki, on the other side of a divide he had unknowingly dug. Everything he knew seemed to be flipped on its head, the chilling realization that he didn’t know Reki as well as he thought— that he had hurt Reki far deeper than he’d realized— was freezing him to his spot. Everything he believed in, everything he held close to his heart, every touch, glance, smile— all of it, stripped away from him.

Langa stares at the pin like it might tell him that this is some practical joke, that Reki is just trying to teach him a lesson. Dear God, he’ll learn the lesson. He’ll do anything if it gets Reki to come back.

Because Reki had been here. He’d been here, despite the fact that he’d been avoiding Langa and insisting that he didn’t want anything to do with this tournament. He’d been here and he’d cheered Langa on, because he was Reki and that meant he was incapable of not being there for the people that mattered to him. Even lost in thought as he’d been, Langa had recognized Reki’s voice instantly. He’d always recognize Reki’s voice— he’d recognize anything about Reki. His voice, his laugh, his footfalls, even the sound of his ragged breathing after an afternoon practicing a new trick— Langa was in tune with all things Reki.

Or, he had thought that he was. He’d thought that he knew Reki better than anyone else but suddenly he’s staring down at Reki’s most prized possession, Reki nowhere to be found, feeling his heart crack open in his chest. Somewhere things went wrong, they got off track and suddenly fell out of step with each other. All this time, Langa had been looking to Reki to lead him, to show him what was next, to step into another adventure at his side. All this time it had been them . But now it was just him . And even though he was in the center of a crowd that kept repeating his name, Langa had never felt more alone.

“Can I take that?” Langa asks after a silence that has stretched so long it has become awkward. “He’s just having a bad day. He’ll want it back when he’s feeling better.”

The words don’t sound quite right and they taste a little bitter on his tongue, as if the words themselves know that they’re a lie, but Langa ignores that. He wills it to be the truth, to give him some hope to cling to. He needs that right now. Because if he doesn’t at least have hope that he’ll be able to get Reki back, he has absolutely nothing . Not even the board Reki made him, not anymore.

The guard shrugs and deposits the pin in Langa’s hand. It’s cold to the touch but still something inside of him burns. “Technically I should say no, but I’ve seen him around here for years. I know he’s a good kid. So, go for it.”

Someone arrives at the gate then and the guard bids Langa farewell, unaware of just how much his words sting. He’s seen Reki around here for years— yeah, that sounds like Reki. The Reki that Langa knows, the Reki he had been thinking about at dinner with his mom a few days ago when he first mentioned that Reki was avoiding him. That sounded like the Reki that shined brighter than the sun and dragged Langa out of the dark hole that his life had become.

Because Langa had moved here with nothing but his mom. He’d lost his dad, he’d given up snowboarding and then lost the possibility of picking it back up. He’d moved here without knowing a single soul outside of his family and he’d assumed that his life would just remain bleak and boring for— well, indefinitely, really. And then Reki had come dashing down the street, arm bandaged, yelling for Langa to catch his board before it got away and everything had changed. Langa’s fingers had closed around the board, he’d turned to meet Reki’s gaze and the entire trajectory of his future had shifted in that exact moment. He was completely sure of it— that was the moment that everything in his life had changed. That was the moment he found a purpose again. And more than that, he’d found someone to share it with.

Langa shoves the pin deep in his pocket because he can’t bear to look at it any longer. It’s bad enough that he has to carry around the splintered halves of his skateboard, he didn’t need another reminder staring back at him.

Something was happening in the distance, Langa didn’t really know what, he wasn’t paying attention. All he knew was that the crowd seemed to have finally moved on from talking about him and he was grateful for the peace because right now he wanted to be with Reki. And if he couldn’t be with Reki, he wanted to be alone.

-- x

He’s careless as he rips the posters off of his wall, tearing them irreparably down the middle.

Not that it matters.

Not that anything matters.

Reki doesn’t turn his bedroom light on as he shreds the posters in his hands, throwing crumpled bits of them on the ground. What’s the point in having his room decorated in skating memorabilia if he wasn’t going to be skating anymore? Because that was really the only option that he could see, that’s what today had made clear to him.

He didn’t want to be standing in the crowd, watching Langa reach new heights. He didn’t want to see Langa’s back . He wanted to be by Langa’s side, in the center of his circle. He wanted to be in Langa’s heart . But Langa was out of reach now— too high in the sky, surrounded by too many adoring fans, up on a pedestal that Reki could never climb, no matter how hard he tried. He wanted to skate, but he wanted to skate with Langa. And since that goal was officially unreachable, well, he didn’t see the point in skating at all.

What fun was there left in it when he would always have an empty place by his side? Where was he supposed to find the joy when he didn’t have Langa there to cheer him on, to clap him on the shoulder or high five him in congratulation when Reki finally landed a trick he’d been practicing? What enjoyment was left for him if he was just going to be eating lunch alone in the middle of the day, a million thoughts on his mind and nobody to share them with?

Because the truth that he’d been trying to avoid for the last few weeks was that he absolutely couldn’t find someone else to share this with. Not the way he shared it with Langa, anyways. There was never going to be someone else that he had that connection with, someone else who walked into his life and just stayed like it was the only place they could possibly imagine being. He hadn’t known it when Langa had introduced himself to their class that first day, but Langa was a missing piece to Reki’s heart, something to complete him and make him feel whole again. Langa challenged him and took him to new heights and for the longest time, Reki had thought that Langa would wait for him, that he wouldn’t try to hit a new level until Reki met him on the one he was at.

Because for a while, it had been okay that Langa was naturally talented and unbelievably amazing because he stayed in stride with Reki. It had been okay that Langa could fly higher than Reki, because it gave Reki something to strive for, a goal to reach. And the whole time, Langa stayed there, encouraging him and cheering him on, laughing with him and offering a hand to hoist him up from the ground when he fell. It was okay that Langa was ahead because he was still there — bright and beautiful, always within Reki’s reach.

He wasn’t within Reki’s reach anymore.

But there was something about Langa, something about the way he fit perfectly into the cracks of Reki’s heart that made Reki absolutely certain that he couldn’t share his passion with anyone else the same way. He’d always have a hollow spot throbbing in his heart whenever he touched a skateboard. That was the real reason he hadn’t skated since their fight. Every time he touched his board, he just felt the ache of loneliness that came with Langa’s absence. Somewhere along the way skating had stopped being his thing and instead had become their thing. But since there was no longer a them , Reki didn’t feel like he could find a home inside skating again.

And that hurt more than Reki had thought anything could.

In the matter of a few weeks he had lost his best friend and his passion, and they weren’t even stolen from him. Langa had willingly walked away, had known that he was breaking his promise to Reki and had chosen to go along with it anyways. Langa had given up on Reki and now Reki was left with no choice but to give up on skating. Because the idea of giving up on Langa hurt even worse, somehow, and a small piece of his shattered heart harbored hope that Langa would come back.

Reki sinks down to the floor, curling in on himself and pressing his forehead against the wall, torn skating posters grasped loosely in his palms.

All this time he had felt like he and Langa were creating a castle together, a place to rule over their shared passion. But now that Reki was alone— well and truly alone, not even the presence of his S badge to keep him company— he realized that it was nothing more than a Castle of Cards and it was collapsing around him.

-- x

The problem with doing the right thing  is that right now, Langa doesn’t know what the right thing is.

He had been trying to give Reki the space he seemed like he wanted the last few weeks, trying to stay within Reki’s orbit without forcing Reki to interact with him if he didn’t want. But that hadn’t worked because suddenly Reki seemed even further away than he had before. But if Reki really didn’t want to talk to him— and that certainly seemed to be the case— Langa didn’t want to corner him.

He looks down at the broken board in his hands and thinks that it’s the perfect representation of everything Reki in his life right now— shattered completely and something Langa has no idea how to handle.

Words have never been his forte. And it’s true that Reki is usually able to read between the lines or connect the dots to Langa’s point if he mixes some of his thoughts together, but this isn’t the kind of thing he wants Reki to have to parse. This is something he needs to say to Reki, clearly and succinctly because anything else risks him losing Reki forever.

And if he loses Reki forever— he loses skating forever, too. Because he can’t skate without Reki there, cheering him on. He doesn’t find joy in it unless he has Reki, that much has become abundantly clear in his last few trips to S.

That, he knows, is the whole problem. It took him too long to realize that the thing he was chasing had in fact been next to him the entire time. It took him too long to realize that the feeling he was addicted to wasn’t the feeling of going fast, but instead the feeling of Reki’s belief in him, the warmth of Reki’s friendship and unwavering support. The thing he had gotten so lost in was Reki, not skateboarding, and he didn’t make that connection until it was too late.

And Reki— Reki was really good at keeping a straight face, at pretending he was okay when he wasn’t. Because Langa had been blind sided by Reki walking out of his life. He’d had maybe one hint that Reki wasn’t feeling himself and then suddenly the bridge between them was on fire and Langa didn’t have any water with him. He’d been forced to stand there as it charred to bits and now— now he had to find some other way across that gap. Because now he knew that it was Reki he needed, Reki he wanted. He knew it was Reki that meant more to him than anything else in his life ever had and he wasn’t going to let Reki go.

Slowly, and with far more effort than it should actually take, Langa peels himself off the ground. S had ended hours ago and everyone had scattered, but Langa hadn’t felt like going home. The sun was starting to rise over the horizon, just the tiniest hints of pink and yellow starting to paint the inky black sky. Another day dawning— another day without Reki if Langa didn’t do something. Another day of the thing he wants most slipping through his fingers.

With equal amounts of determination and fear, Langa takes off towards Reki’s house. He has no idea what he’s going to say, no idea what he’s going to do , but he can’t just sit around and do nothing anymore. He grips Reki’s S pin in one hand, clutching his broken board to his side with the other as he treads the familiar path to Reki’s house. He could walk there with his eyes closed if he wanted to, he’d been here so many times. It was like his feet knew the path on their own, like even lacking courage couldn’t stop him from going there because every fiber of who he was longed to see Reki, to be near him again. Every single cell in his body was screaming at him to get to Reki before it was too late and Reki was gone completely.

He rounded the last corner and came to a complete stop as he stumbled into Reki’s front yard, surprised to see Reki sitting on the front porch so early in the morning.

“Reki?”

Reki’s head whips up and he squints at Langa, the sun from behind Langa no doubt blinding him. “Langa? What are you doing?”

A lot of different thoughts swirl in Langa’s mind, the weight of both the pin and the board heavy in his hands as he tries to figure out where to start. Reki stares at him, still in the same hoodie he’d worn at S, his headband gone. His hair was longer than Langa had realized as it fell down around his face, framing his eyes and the unbearably sad expression on his face. He looked the way Langa’s heart feels— empty and void of any passion. The first thing Langa considers is just dropping everything and pulling Reki into a hug, but he’s not sure Reki would receive that willingly and he really doesn’t think he’d be able to handle Reki pushing him away.

“I—“ Langa glances down at his feet, at the board in his hand, the scrapes along his arms from when the board had broken and he’d fallen. If only this was as easy as a simple cut, if only this would heal with just a little time and tending to.

“What happened?” Reki asks and when Langa glances up at him, he sees Reki’s gaze focused on his board. There’s a sharp downturn at the corner of his mouth and Langa can’t tell if Reki is mad that he broke the board or not.

“Oh, it—“ Langa glances at the board, too. The board that Reki had made for him, the one that Reki had poured time and effort into. The board that allowed him to reach the heights he can now reach. “It snapped right after I crossed the finish line with Joe. I’m sorry, Reki, I didn’t mean to—“

Reki sighs and it sounds like he’s pulling the weight of it from the very depths of his bones. Langa worries for a moment that he’s going to collapse in on himself when he exhales because it sounds like he’s letting go of everything he is. “You need me to fix it for you?”

That startles Langa. Sure, when his board had first broken and Joe had suggested that he go back to Reki to fix it, Langa had assumed that Reki would. But something about finding out Reki had turned in his S pin had changed everything. If Langa’d had to guess before he got here how he thought Reki would react, he would’ve said that Reki would’ve staunchly refused to fix his board for him and shown him the door. It didn’t sound anything like Reki but then again, neither did giving up S and Reki had apparently done that.

“You would?”

Reki raises one shoulder in what Langa assumes is meant to be a shrug. “You can’t beat Adam otherwise.”

Each word is a knife straight to Langa’s heart and somehow, completely despite himself, he drops the board to the ground at his feet, his arm going limp. “Reki…”

Finally, Reki stands up from the porch and closes the distance between them. And even though he’s technically getting closer with every step he takes, Langa feels like Reki is being pulled further and further away from him. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To beat Adam? You’ll need a board to do that.”

Slowly, and with far more care than it deserves, Reki picks the shattered pieces of the board up off of the ground. He stands up, just a few feet away from Langa, close enough that Langa could reach out and touch him if he wanted to— and Langa wants to. God he’s not sure he’s ever wanted something more in his life. He wants to touch Reki, to feel that Reki is really there, that Reki is real and beside him again, right where he belongs.

Because all along, it’s been Reki reaching out to Langa. It’s been Reki throwing his arm around Langa’s shoulders, pulling Langa close in celebration. It’s been Reki holding onto Langa, holding Langa together, dragging Langa forward. And then— and then the one time he’d reached for Reki first, Reki had shaken off his touch and left him standing under a street lamp in the rain.

And Langa really wants to reach for Reki, but he’s paralyzed by fear that Reki will shake him off again.

Pain courses through his body with every beat of his heart and suddenly Langa feels like he’s losing control. The unbearable agony of being this close to Reki and not being able to have him, to hold him, breaks Langa apart completely. “Why did you turn in your badge?”

Reki hears him, Langa knows he does. Because Reki has always heard him, has always been listening for him in the midst of everything. There’s never been anything that Langa has said that Reki hasn’t heard. But Reki ignores him. “I’m probably going to have to start from scratch.” He says instead, his gaze studiously focused on the board. But Langa sees the tight line of his jaw. “I don’t think I can repair this.”

“Reki—“

“Don’t worry,” Reki reassures even though they both know that Reki’s doing nothing but dodging the issue at hand. “I can have it done by the time you have your beef with Adam. I’ve already made it once so I know what it needs. Just give me a day or two.”

And then Reki turns to walk towards his garage as if he’s going to get started right away. Reki turns to walk towards his garage, away from Langa.

“Reki!” Completely out of his control, Langa’s hand shoots out and grabs Reki around the wrist, holding him in place. He holds as tightly as he can without hurting Reki, determined to not let him get away this time. “Reki, talk to me .”

Reki’s head is bowed and his shoulders are shaking and every already. Broken piece of Langa’s heart somehow manages to break further. “What do you want me to say, Langa?”

With a gentle tug, Langa turns Reki around so they’re facing each other again. He pulls Reki’s hand forward until it’s open in front of him and then he presses Reki’s S pin into his palm, staring with so much intensity it’s almost unbearable because Reki still won’t look at him. His fingers curl under Langa’s, wrapping around the pin as he scoffs, turning his head to the side.

“Why?” Langa presses, his hand still firm around Reki’s wrist. “Reki, why?”

When Reki finally raises his head, his eyes watery at the edges, Langa thinks he might just crumble completely, become a pile of broken dreams at Reki’s feet, waiting for a gentle wind to blow him away. “What purpose do I have there, Langa? I can’t keep up with everyone. I’m not—“ The words seem to lodge in Reki’s throat but he refuses to turn his burning gaze away this time. “I’m not good enough. There’s nothing there for me.”

“I’m there for you.” Langa replies with as much ferocity as he can manage. It sounds feeble, broken, like it’s two seconds away from collapsing entirely. “I’m there for you, Reki.”

“You’re there for Adam.” Reki practically spits Adam’s name, like it tastes bad on his tongue, like he can’t wait to get it away from him. Langa had known that Reki hated Adam, that Adam scared him and seemed dangerous but this— these emotions swirling around Reki’s words, hiding in the depths of his eyes— this was something more than that.

And this is it— the breaking point. This is the moment where Langa can either make or break everything they have between them. Every late night, every early morning, every band aid Reki has carefully put over his wounds have led to this moment. All the knowledge he has of Reki culminates to right now when he has to figure out exactly the right thing to say, has to figure out how to tell Reki what it is that he really feels. His mom had told him to just be honest with his feelings, but that was easier said than done. At the time he’d thought it would be embarrassing but now he’d willingly take embarrassment if it meant Reki would smile again.

How long has it been since he’s seen Reki smile? He feels like he’s being suffocated without it, like the happiness is slowly being drained away from him.

“I thought I was,” Langa begins and he sees Reki flinch away from him, sees the moment Reki tries to build those final walls between them. Holding Reki’s wrist the tiniest bit tighter, Langa rushes on, “But I was wrong. Reki I— I thought it was skating against Adam that made my heart race. I thought it was the speed. But it wasn’t.” Langa shakes his head and a few strands of hair fall into his eyes. This isn’t going how he wants it to, the words are getting all muddled in his head, lost somewhere between his mind and his tongue. “That’s— it’s not—“ He sighs.

But Reki is looking up at him again, his eyes wide and his mouth open like there’s a question poised on the tip of his tongue. There’s the tiniest flicker of hope, a small flame that needs fanning in Reki’s expression. “What?”

“These last few weeks, when you haven’t been there it hasn’t— it hasn’t felt the same.” Langa takes a deep breath and finally lets go of Reki. If he’s going to leave, at least he will have heard Langa out. That’s the most he can ask for. “It hasn’t been fun or exciting. Nothing about it has felt like it did before. Even when I was racing Joe earlier it didn’t— it didn’t mean anything to me until you cheered for me.”

“But…” Reki ducks his head and Langa swallows around the lump forming in his throat. “But you’re so talented.”

“So are you.”

“Not— not like you.” Reki’s loose hair falls even closer around his face as he shakes his head and Langa’s hands long to reach out and brush it away from his eyes.

“Reki, I can only skate because of you.” Carefully, Langa reaches out to place a hand gently on Reki’s shoulder. When Reki doesn’t shy away from the contact, a small piece of his heart repairs. “You taught me how to skate, you made me a board that I could use. All of my skating is thanks to you.”

And that, if nothing else, is the absolute truth.

“But—“

“I want to skate with you, Reki.” Langa emphasizes, the last truths rising to the light. If he’s going to do this, he might as well do it all the way. “I want it to be with you, not Adam. I don’t care about facing Adam if you’re not there with me. And I’m sorry that I made you think otherwise, I’m sorry that it took me so long to figure that out but— it’s not good if it’s not you, Reki.”

The silence that follows lasts long enough to become painful. The sun is rising behind him and the edges of Reki’s hair catch like fire in the sun, glowing and warm. He looks beautiful as he glances back up at Langa, those eyes watery again but full of so much emotion that Langa can finally recognize again.

“I want to skate with you, too, Langa.” Reki says finally, each word a balm on Langa’s battered soul.

“You do?”

“I thought— You were leaving me behind and you’re so much more talented than I am— I was afraid—“

Without any hesitation, Langa tugs Reki forward, throwing his other arm around Reki and clutching him against his chest. Reki drops the broken board somewhere along the way, his own arms wrapping around Langa as he buries his face in Langa’s shoulder, the edges of his hair brushing Langa’s jaw. And just like that, in one swift moment, Langa feels like he can see the light again.

-- x

Reki can feel his S pin, warm against his palm as he fists his hands in the back of Langa’s shirt. He can feel his S pin and Langa both pressed against him, holding his jagged edges together and he can’t help but think that this is exactly how it’s supposed to be. Because Langa may have left him behind for a little while, but he’d come back for Reki. He’d come back and gathered Reki’s broken edges, piecing him back together. He hadn’t given up on Reki even when Reki had given up on himself.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” Langa mumbles into the top of his head, his hands tight around Reki’s back, “I’m sorry, Reki. Please don’t give up skating. Please don’t leave me there alone.”

And that plea is everything Reki wanted to hear. It was everything Reki needed to know— that Langa still wanted to share this with him, that Langa would give up on his idiotic idea to go up against Adam. It was everything Reki wanted, but he knew he couldn’t take it, not like that. Because there was more that Langa wanted and if Reki accepted the apology, if Reki promised to come back to skating and to go back to how things had been, he’d be taking some of those things away from Langa. And no matter how hurt he’d been, he never wanted to take anything away from Langa, that was why he’d left. Because he wanted Langa to have everything he could ever want without feeling like Reki was holding him back.

And now Langa was here, offering to give it all up for Reki and Reki knew that he couldn’t let him do that.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Reki replies instead. He doesn’t love it, but he knows it’s the right thing to do. He knows that Langa needs this, that he needs this if they’re really going to put this behind them. “I’ll come back to S, but only to watch you kick Adam’s ass.”

“Reki?” Langa pulls away enough to look at Reki’s face, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

Reki pulls away completely, stepping back and over the broken board so that it fills the space between them again. “Someone has to beat him.”

“So let someone else do it.” Langa takes a step closer, his toes nearly brushing the board. “Not me.”

Reki shakes his head, reaching up to brush some of the longer pieces of his hair back. “It has to be you, Langa.”

And they both know that’s true, Adam won’t rest until he skates against Langa again. Adam has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t consider anyone other than Langa a proper opponent. If someone is going to take Adam off of his high horse, it has to be Langa, whether Reki likes it or not. He doesn’t like it, not even a little bit, but Langa came back to him, Langa offered to give racing Adam up entirely. Reki has to just trust him now, to stand by his side while he races Adam, holding his breath and cheering loudly, And when it’s all over, all he can do is hope that Langa finds his way back to his side again.

Because just keeping Langa away from Adam wouldn’t be enough. Reki would always be haunted with the question, would always wonder if Langa was satisfied, if he was happy to just skate with Reki at their own pace. He needed to know, to be absolutely certain that he was the one Langa chose.

“I won’t do it.” The amount of conviction in Langa’s voice tells Reki that it’s going to be alright.

“C’mon,” Reki bends down to pick up the broken board between them. “Let’s go get started on your new board. We can figure out the rest from there.”

“Reki, I won’t— I don’t want to—“

“Yes you do.” Reki cuts in but he’s surprised to find that he’s not mad anymore. He’s not even hurt, he’s mostly just afraid. But he’s choosing to put all of his faith in Langa because so far, Langa hasn’t actually let him down. The fact that Langa is standing here in front of him at the first signs of dawn, while the rest of the world is completely asleep tells Reki that Langa hasn’t let him down yet and isn’t going to start now. “And I’ll be there when you do, okay? You know I hate him, I’ll take pleasure in watching you defeat him.”

Langa hesitates, “And if I do this, what then?”

And that answer comes to Reki surprisingly easily. “Then you’ll be the king of S. And I’ll be the one to knock you off your throne.”

The smile that spreads over Langa’s face is slow to come, but no less warm than all the ones Reki has seen in the past. “Is that a promise?”

“Yeah.” Reki says, holding a hand up in front of him. “It is.”

When Langa responds in kind, giving Reki their signature high five and fist bump combo, Reki realizes that maybe their castle wasn’t made out of cards after all. Maybe Langa wasn’t the only one who had gotten lost along the way. Because suddenly, it feels like there’s some solid foundation under his feet again. He takes off towards the garage, Langa in tow and he knows with absolute certainty that neither Adam nor the fear Reki feels in the face of him is strong enough to actually break them apart.

And when Langa kicks Adam’s ass and comes back to Reki to celebrate, well Reki might have a few other things he needs to tell him then. But for now, he relishes the feeling of his heart patching itself back together as Langa settles onto his normal stool in the garage, propping his head in his hand as Reki selects a new piece of wood to begin working with.

Everything may not be okay quite yet, Reki might still have some lingering fears and doubts, but he has Langa by his side again and he knows with Langa there, he’ll be able to overcome any of those things. Everything may not be okay quite yet, but Reki knows that soon it’s going to be okay again.

[bonesofapoet]

Blood of the Holy

[matt murdock x you]

author’s note: hey hi hello, if some of you recognize this format + writing style but not the blog, i used to share my work on my main @ladyofstardvst​ and caved on making a writing blog. yall dont need to sift through my non-writing shit just to find my work. i’ve never written for this nerd before but here we are with a study of a sort! be kind! i take requests now! tw for blood, implied violence, swearing

word count: 1894

ao3: here

Most people couldn’t stand the neon in the dark.

It was garishly bright, it was harsh, it was annoying at best. The sign would blink and linger behind your eyelids, stain the shadows in the dark like sunspots, make an impression that washed out the relaxing calm, the blanket of the night.

It keeps most people awake, Matt Murdock explained on that very first night. It doesn’t bother me, obviously. Take the bed. It’s not as noticeable in the bedroom.

But it didn’t bother you either. The contrast caught your eye on the second night; the colors would paint the monochromatic neutral tones of the apartment, how they would mix and melt into the chipped brick walls, the trim, the beams of the ceiling. How if you were in the right place – the right cushion on the couch, far enough back into the kitchen – it looked like a painting come alive right before your eyes. Something that would go on to live in a local indie gallery, something inspired by vaporwave, or whatever they were calling neon nostalgia these days.

Still. Silent. Chiaroscuro. Art in the wild.

It was like clockwork, the blinking. The colors coming and going at the first peek of evening shadow, only to blink right off at the first knock of the sun’s rays on the horizon.

After the third, fourth, tenth, twentieth nights it had become a comfort of sorts, namely for the days Matt Murdock wasn’t there to press you into the wall and kiss you senseless, or weave each other stories under the moonlight with a nest of blankets and concrete beneath you. When he wasn’t there to ghost his fingertips over your skin as you drifted off to sleep, so painfully content that you always wondered if this beautiful man with a devastating secret would be the end of you.

You never knew, but he often asked himself the same thing.

Then there were days that damned neon was the only constant about Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Daredevil.

Moments of lovesick peace would only last so long.

Your skin would crawl on the nights sleep wouldn’t come. Mug of tea, coffee, something stronger cradled in your hands while your mind wandered, your feet wandered, your eyes drifted around this space of his, this little hideaway of yours. You would always hear him before you saw him, adrenaline spiked and oh so weary. Some nights he was covered in so much blood you didn’t know where it ended and his own crimson suit began.

“You’re still awake,” he would say, scowl tugging his mouth down, always sounding surprised. As if it was unusual, for you to be restless on the nights he donned devil horns to go hunting.

And you’re still alive, would be your reply.

He would stay close until dawn. You would gravitate toward him just the same, moths to flame, flowers to the sun. Conversations were hazy and hushed in the early morning-late night blur. They walked that fine fragile line between this is not okay, Matt, and you know you can’t shove me away as easily as everyone else, you stubborn ass.

Unspoken vs spoken. Horror vs love.

Clockwork, nonetheless.

Until one day, the clock shattered.

Matt Murdock doesn’t come home.

Then it’s days. Weeks slipped into months. Months slipped into a blend of minutes, moments, denial casually catching hold within as you found yourself still in his apartment – your little hideaway - watching the steady blink blink blink of the neon sign through the dirty, frosted window panes of the kitchen. Then the living room, then the kitchen counter. Cold tea, day old bitter coffee, something stronger untouched and unloved in the mug that hung loosely in your hands.

Those feelings of heartache and unease and an angry I fucking told you so lingered at the back of your mind, the tip of your tongue. The last time you saw him had been reenacted so many times, it began to feel like a dream. A nightmare. The flesh made into ghosts. Phantom lips brushed yours in such a gentle, such an urgent way that your pulse began to spike at the memory. The loss. The longing.

You thought about how you had gotten here, of all places, here – this apartment, this man’s life, both of you entwined with secrets and lies that could end both of you forever-

Everything was safer in the dark. What Matt Murdock hadn’t known – well. That wasn’t how he had met his end, after all.

It was almost too much to think about, on some occasions.

Until one day, when the clock began to tick once more.

You heard him before you saw him, the familiar cadence of his footsteps descended from above. The quiet slide of the roof access door snicked open and closed in the unholy hours of the night, the unholy hours of the morning.

The silence was new, however, and your eyes drifted up to see a shadow at the top of the staircase, frozen and tense and so very familiar.

“You’re still awake,” he said, and the tears were suddenly there; the ones that could never come, the ones that never seemed to leave. They were present, and the noise that left your throat wasn’t coherent, wasn’t normal, but a strangled laugh escaped your lips anyway.

“You’re still alive,” you replied. If not for the routine, your answer wouldn’t have been so intelligible. “You’re alive.” came the raspy whisper.

His silhouette nodded, began to limp down the stairs into the apartment proper. Began to finish his long journey back to you, back to everything, really. The mug in your hands was no more – placed safely, if not hastily – on the table, and you met him halfway.

“Yeah,” he said, voice quiet and so very hesitant as he clawed off the scarf covering his eyes. “I’m alive.”

There’s the hint of a smile that catches in the neon blink, one that you dreamt of sometimes, on the long nights. Shared breaths, lovesick grins, stray tears being gently brushed away followed in a fog, in a rush, in slow motion that threatened to dismantle so many things about his time away.

And then -

“Where the fuck have you been?”

He’s holding your waist, fingertips splayed, grip firm if only to convince himself that finally – finally, he’s here, you’re here, you're together. Your own hands slid to his shoulders, but you stepped back to keep him a few inches away.

Your gaze was hot and strong and analytical – Matt could feel your eyes as they saw bruised skin, torn clothes, battered, bloody knuckles. He’s been in worse shape, both you and he knew that, but he also knew he was no drawing, no painting, nothing close to a work of art worthy of a museum either. There were bloody, violent masterpieces under guard at the Louvre more worthy than he.

Had he asked you, you would have disagreed.

He can’t see the sorrow drowning the color of your eyes or the way softness carved a home on your expression, carefully melting away the tension, the anger, the fear. He can’t see you, but he does and even after all this time he still knew how to read the air around your mood shifts and the lilt of your voice. Still knew that after all he’s put you through – he felt a weight lift off his shoulders, Atlas freed at last.

He may have lost touch with many things, many people, but not once had he ever lost you.

“I’m sorry,” he began, emotion becoming thicker in his voice with every breath, every word that tumbled past his lips. It had always unsettled him, how you could unearth what he tried to hide, tried to bury.

Moths to flame, flowers to the sun.

He condensed the happenings since the building collapse after his stint with the Defenders, his words spilling out quick and quiet, rushed and worried.

But if he hadn’t finished what he started, what was he doing here? What was he doing with you? Why now?

“Let me – let me get this straight. Were you going to let us think you died, until – when? You got your shit together? Killed Fisk?” his fingers tightened where they held you, unseeing eyes wandered anywhere and everywhere except right in front of him, right on you. You knew that look. Your voice softened. “Or were you just going to disappear? Like this meant nothing – like this means nothing? And as grateful as I am that you are – why are you here, Matt?”

He shook his head, ignored the cracks that broke open his heart like dropped glass. Your name spilled from his lips like a holy hymn that golden haloed angels could never hope to sing. No one could recreate the most divine sound in all of creation. Matt Murdock would always swear you were a goddess incarnate, no matter how sinfully blasphemous it was. “You mean everything.” he pulled you into him, moved so his face was close to yours.

“It’s not that simple,” he said after, and you deflated in an instant. The amount of times a variation of this conversation had been voiced between you – you would never know. It was like a renegade wildfire: possible to lessen, impossible to tame.

It was as quick as the changing of the seasons, how he took on the urgency you’ve only witnessed a handful of times - when he allowed you in the presence of Daredevil himself. You remembered what he asked of you lifetimes ago, between hushed words and bloody gauze, hands slick with red and a needle poised between your fingertips. How if danger ever came to your door, you would listen and you would trust, and you would let him do whatever it took to keep you safe.

To keep you both safe, you tried to correct. He would nod, and you would ignore that he never agreed to such a thing.

“We need to go,” was all he said, but you knew. You remembered.

The strongest jolt of fear slammed into you, bleeding a black and white, us and them mentality. It threatened to smother the blinking neon, the bright washes of blue and white felt muted, felt so very distant when you realized that someone was coming here, someone figured it out, figured it all out.

Oh.

That wasn’t the answer you hoped for.

Us vs them.

“So it’s finally happening.”

Matt’s hands fell away from you, one slid to twine your hands together and squeezed. He was solid, he was grounding. You looked into his eyes. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you,” he took his free hand, lifted it to brush your cheek with tattered knuckles, bruises blossomed like night blooming flowers. He left a trail of soft burning flames when he traced a path down to your jaw where he stopped and cupped your face ever so gently. “That’s the one promise I knew I’d never break.”

Fear melted away when you closed the distance to kiss him, felt that heavy soul twine with yours; all was suddenly right with the world for the first time in a long time, even if the anguish of this city was about to come crashing down on your shoulders all over again. It tore at your heart, this kiss, because it was so very reminiscent of the first time he ever kissed you. Bright eyes, flushed faces, the thrill of something new ignited all around you. The future painted with vivid neon instead of muted pastels. It felt bittersweet, and you knew down in the marrow of your bones that this could very well be the last thing you would ever share with Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Daredevil.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips. “I trust you.”

Once those words were in the open, there was no going back.

Your secret could wait.

[sunsetinmyvein]

The Radio Station - Chapter Two - I’m So Excited

21st of August, 2013

  The email had come in from her boss about a week before the interview was scheduled – next Wednesday, Mathew Healy was going to be back on her show. A part of her felt kind of anxious about this fact. Since the last time they had met, the band had indeed taken off as she predicted. Their popularity was only snowballing and the man that she had the pleasure of knowing for a brief while was revelling in it (from what she had seen in other interviews, anyway). She tried to remind herself that he was very easy to get along with the last time, so this should be no different. And she had met some substantially larger names than The 1975 in her time at the station. So, her anxiety was therefore fairly unwarranted. Which begged the question about why she felt those nerves sitting at the pit of her stomach in the first place, just from knowing that he was coming back into the studio. However, there wasn’t any point in stewing over it, nor was there time to, because he was knocking lightly at her glass door before she knew it. His mohawk had grown out a bit since she’d last seen him eight months ago, but otherwise he looked largely the same. She had a feeling he was even wearing the same black jacket he’d been wearing before. Looking behind him, it would seem that he’d brought one of the guys with him that she had seen him with after their last interview. If she recalled correctly, he was their drummer.

 “It was Matthew, yeah?” She asked, trying to play it cool as she ushered the two of them inside. She hoped that it wouldn’t be apparent too quickly that she had been watching The 1975's movements closely since they’d met. Though, if Matthew was as clued on this time as he was the last time they’d spoke, she likely wouldn’t be able to hide it for long.

“Yeah, but Matty’s better.” He grinned. There was a short pause as he stopped for a beat and maintained eye contact, before remembering that he had someone else to introduce. “And I don’t think you guys formally met last time, but this is George. I dragged him along, hope that’s okay.” He added as he gestured to the man standing behind him.  

“Good seeing you again.” George nodded politely.

“You as well.” She replied. “Take a seat you guys, there’s still a couple of songs that have to play through before I introduce you.” She said as she gestured to the other side of the desk. Matty gladly took the usual guest spot as George dragged across the smaller chair from the corner of the room.

  “How’ve you been?” Matty asked eagerly, shuffling around in his seat as he tried to get comfortable.

“Yeah, good. Pretty much the same as usual.” She chuckled as she took a sip of her coffee.

“I’m surprised that you’re still running the lunchtime shift and they’ve not bumped you up to some prime time, peak-hour traffic slot.” He said casually, earning an incredulous laugh from her. The morning and afternoon shifts were the most coveted positions at any radio station, let alone one as big as this. She was pretty happy that she’d managed to land a job that gave her hours during the day as opposed to a midnight shift.

“Ah, I think I’d need a bit more of an audience before that happened.” She replied.

“I dunno, from what I’ve heard you seem to have a decent following.” He said with a shrug.

It was quiet for a moment as she processed that. She was pretty certain she could hear the clock hanging above the door ticking quietly as her brain tried to catch up. “You listen to the show?” She asked eventually.

“Whenever I get a chance, yeah. Or just catch a few highlights here and there on social media.”

  That truly caught her off guard. Matthew Healy was out there writing albums, playing shows, and listening to her radio show? Why? Surely, he had better things to do in his downtime? “Uh, so what about you guys?” She asked, clearing her throat and trying to change the topic before he took note of how flustered she was becoming at this knowledge. “How’s things?”

“Really good!” He grinned. “We had Glastonbury recently which was amazing, and have Reading and Leeds coming up this weekend, and-” He started rattling off, quickly stopped by George as he put a hand down on the singers’ shoulder.

“Don’t wanna give too much away before the interview starts, Matt.” He laughed softly.

“Well, no, but-“

“You have to save the stories or you’re just gonna end up repeating them.”

“I can tell different ones.”

“You’re gonna tell the same ones that you tell every time, I know you are. And you won’t wanna tell them in the interview because you already said them now.”

“You don’t know that.” Matty frowned, clearly keen to push the point.

They continued this back and forth for a while before she intervened, “Anyway,” She sensed she had to diffuse this argument before it progressed into teenage bickering. “let’s do an interview.”

  The two of them instantly tuned out of their conversation and back into the matter at hand as she began flipping switches. She pulled her headset on as she gave them one last cursory glance to make sure that they were ready.

"Hope you’re all having a pleasant afternoon out there, folks.” She spoke into her microphone. “As per usual on our Wednesday shows, I do have some special guests here in the studio with me to have a chat.” She said, nodding across to Matty to introduce himself.

“Hey! It’s Matty from The 1975.” He said with an excited grin.

“And George.” His friend added, leaning across to be closer to the mic. “Great to be here.”

“So, it’s been about nine months since you were here-”

“Entirely too long, if you ask me.” Matty chimed in casually. She pressed on, trying to ignore the charm that seemed to radiate from just about everything this man said.

“-and all of the EPs are out now, correct?” She continued.

“Yep.”

“Your album comes out in just under two weeks?”

“That sounds about right.”

  She glanced down at the notepad in front of her, but she was pretty sure that over the last week she had memorised these questions front to back. “Are you excited for the album to finally be out? You were saying last time that it was practically already written back when you started the EP concepts.”

“We're definitely excited to finally hear people's reactions after how much traction we've gained from the EPs.” George began.

“It's been sitting in our heads for so long, it was almost hard to postpone it, but we wanted it to be perfect.” Matty threw in. “We didn't really expect to have such a positive reaction so soon, so it'll be interesting to see what people do with the main event.” Matty answered with a daydreamy look flashing in his eyes for a moment.

“I’ve really been enjoying the EPs.” She added, which instantly caught Matty's attention.

“Have you?” He asked instantly.

“Yeah, they've had a fair few spins through my playlists.” She laughed, suddenly making him grin ear to ear.

  “You mentioned the positive reaction, Matty. With how fast you guys have taken off, I've heard a lot of people out there referring to The 1975 as an overnight success.” She prompted. “But you guys have been working on this since you were teenagers.”

He let out a sigh. “There is so much stuff about us being an overnight success…” He pulled a hand through his hair as he looked over at George. “It’s been ten years, actually.” He chuckled.

“Was the ten years worth it when you got the call to open for the Stones?”

“Yeah. Yeah!” He almost shouted, now letting out a full laugh. “it’s stuff like that, that really makes you appreciate it.”

George nodded along with him. “I think this whole year’s been worth it. Not just the Stones show, we’ve had a lot of great festivals and great sold out shows. It’s been strange. Surreal telling people about those events.” He elaborated.

“We didn’t mean for any of this to happen, really. So, it was a bit daunting initially.”

  “You guys are still on tour?” She asked, moving along to the next topic.

“Yeah, have been since we last spoke.” Matty said with a nod. “Not really getting off tour until...” He seemed to be counting in his head. “December next year.”

“Next year?” She asked in surprise. “That's quite a long tour.”

“We are just… constantly on the move now.” He shrugged.

“That's for sure. It’s been a big year for The 1975. You guys had Glastonbury in June.”

“Yeah! That was amazing. It was incredible to play at a festival that we all grew up going to.”

“And have Reading and Leeds coming up this weekend with some big names.” She reminded him.

“Crazy…” He agreed. “We haven’t really been in the country for a lot of it. When Chocolate went so mental, we’ve been in America and Europe and just touring. We’ve just seen each other every day, it’s not really been that different for us. But the shows are getting bigger, people are really investing in the band, so it’s an amazing time.”

  “You guys also did South by South West, which was eleven shows in five days.”

“That was mental.” George scoffed.

“Yeah! We were quite surprised to see how many people came to all of those shows. Chris Martin said the most perfect thing ever - of all people - if you throw a party and like 50 people come up, so imagine doing that for twice, three times the amount of that, every night, in cities you’ve never even really heard of. We turned up in Milwaukee and 350 people came to the show. We had a sold-out show in new York.” He rattled off, seeming slightly bewildered at the memory.

“That's pretty crazy to be making such big waves in a different country like that.” She concurred.

“I think it’s a testament to the internet, really. How far we’ve come from Manchester all the way across the world.” The drummer offered.

Matty instantly took that thought and ran with it, “God, I could talk about it for ages. It’s strange to go somewhere – when you go to places, and you realise you have a following there… your identity, your sense of self, almost feels slightly diluted? Because you’re in somewhere so unfamiliar, but witnessing the most familiar parts of your life. Your material, your art. It’s weird, man.” He said, shaking his head slightly.

  “Does it intimidate you guys at all?” She questioned.

“No.” He instantly answered. “It’s amazing, a very humbling experience. It’s just very odd, the power of the internet? It’s kind of unsettling, but not intimidating. Kind of feel like you’ve lost a part of yourself a little bit.”

“How so?” She urged him to continue.

“Well... that’s when you’re at your most honest, isn’t it? When nobody knows who your band is. Now people know who we are. I’m the protagonist in every song I write. Which means every time I put stuff out there, it's putting out a part of me. Every conversation in a song is me and a normally female counterpart.” He tried his best to explain. “But that’s a subconscious thing.” He added as an afterthought.

“So it's like you're a little too transparent putting that much of yourself out there to such a large group of people?”

“Well, yeah. Your identity becomes kind of vaguely diluted because it’s not as embedded in what you’re familiar with anymore. Your identity kind of extends to places that you don’t really understand. It’s quite an unsettling thing for me.” Matty looked like he was struggling to find the right adjectives to describe the feeling. “It’s interesting. It’s cool.” He eventually settled on.

  “Does that sort of feeling ever bother you when you're on stage?” She asked.

“Not at all. Performing is one of the only times I feel satisfied.” He laughed. “I just love it. It’s like putting on a party every night.”

“Would you guys ever do another big supporting tour like The Stones?”

“Probably not right now.” George supplied, before Matty spoke over him.

“There’s been a genuine investment from our fans. Every show we put out sells out really quickly now. We’ve not been able to meet the demands of the amount of people who want to see our band. As much as going off and playing with popstars in arenas would be fun, I think that would be an indulgent decision. It wouldn’t be for the right reasons. We need to play our own shows… we’ll have the opportunity for all that later.” He answered decisively. George seemed happy with this. “I don’t want us to get too big too quickly, you know? A lot of people feel like we’re their band. 'You’re my kinda band.' That’s how I always used to fall in love with bands. I don’t wanna lose that. I want that to remain, because it really is important to me that every single person gets the band.” It wasn't hard to believe that Matty meant what he was saying with the amount of conviction in his voice as he spoke into the mic in front of him.

“We have quite a strict door policy on our band. We don’t want idiots gettin’ in.” George threw in to try and lighten the mood.

  “Back to Reading and Leeds, then. You're playing with the likes of Fall Out Boy and Green Day. Those are some massive names that'll be bringing in big crowds.” She started her line of questioning, waiting for them to respond before she continued.

“Yeah... We haven’t played to that many people.” Matty wiped his hands down his face as he took in a deep breath. “But it’s a real validation of all you’re doing. It’s not something we’ve ever craved, but it’s something we’ve really, really embraced and something that pushes us forward as creative people. It's cemented our identity as a band.” He replied.

“Are you nervous?” She asked with a smile.

He chuckled slightly, “Yeah, a little bit, but not really. What’ve we got to be nervous of? If people are there, they’ve already made that investment in us. We’ve just gotta show up and provide what we are.” George nodded. “And we can do that, so let’s just do it, d’you know what I mean?”

  “All right, we're gonna play a couple of songs and then we'll be back with some questions you guys sent in earlier in the week.” She spoke into her microphone before cutting away.

“Fan questions?” George asked in curiosity as he took his headset off.

“Yeah. The station told people to text stuff in through the week and I've picked a few to ask.” She said with a nod as she took a swig from her cup of coffee.

“Hopefully you picked good ones.” Matty said with an eyebrow raised.

“You'll just have to see.” She shot back, earning a grin from him.

“You do brilliant interviews. I can't imagine you'd give us shitty questions.” He added. She tried her best to make sure he wouldn't see the slight blush on her cheeks at the compliment.

  “You know, you should come out to a show sometime.” He segued. She was all too happy for an out from that conversation before it progressed.

“You guys hardly ever play here.” She pointed out.

“Come see us at Reading.”

“I hardly think you guys are high enough up on the bill to be offering to get me into a major festival for free.” She tried to sound accusatory, but couldn’t stop herself from cracking a small smile.

“Ask the station to get you in.” He suggested. She noticed that he seemed… rather eager about this idea.

She sighed deeply as she mulled this over. It would be nice to see them play live. It would be nice to see Matty again. Seeing him at a show counted as work, right? She could use that as a loophole in her own rules. “I’ll see what I can do.” Matty’s eyes practically lit up at her words.

  “Okay, we're back with Matty and George of The 1975, here to answer some questions sent in by you lovely listeners.” She started, flipping over her notebook to the scribbled fan questions. “First up we have Louise who wanted to know, what's your highlight been so far?” The two men sitting across from her both let out a groan.

“So much has happened...” George mumbled.

“The whole thing has just become a bit of a blur, to be honest with you.” Matty answered. “It’s just loads of surreal situations strung together by doing interviews. I’d like to be in that place of having that much foresight – that much retrospect and hindsight. Everything’s happened so quick… I don’t know how I’m gonna feel about it. I can’t imagine things can continue being this intense in another year.” He paused for a moment, before pulling himself back on track. “Having a genuine connection with people who I never would’ve thought had even heard of our band every night, just that kind of…extended feeling… is the highlight of every night.”

“That's quite a nice sentiment.” She nodded.

“When we were a lot smaller in the UK, like January, a couple came up to me after a gig in London. And said that they’d fallen in love with each other through our EP – the Sex EP. They’d started speaking about it when they were out with a group of friends. They’d met and said ‘you know this band The 1975’ and they fell in love with that record and now they’re getting engaged.” He looked absolutely astounded by this, looking across to her to make sure she understood how crazy that was. “And I love that. It nearly made me cry. Because that’s it. That’s all we wanna do. For our music to affect people emotionally. If you have an artistic expression that does that… there’s nothing more beautiful, really. And if that’s your job, how can you get any better than that?” He finished with a shrug.

  “Next we have Sam who's asked could you guys imagine doing something else instead of being in the band?” She questioned, crossing it off her list.

“We can’t do anything else.” George said with a laugh, instantly making his friend do the same.

“The band is the only expression we have. That’s bought from being complacent on working for anything else, and being totally, totally narrow minded and blind. We’ve never thought of the idea of this not happening.” Matty said.

“David has asked, how do you keep going?”

“Alcohol.” Matty instantly laughed. “Not really.” He quickly corrected. “It’s been the only thing we do, y’know? It’s not like we were in a band and had other interests. As soon as we became consumed by this band, we just stuck together as individuals. I think also because our social group has always orientated around us as a four, there’s never been any reason for us to not make music. It’s almost as if someone said ‘yeah, all right’ and then we got embraced by lots of different people and institutions.” He explained.

  “Have there been any bad times?” She asked. “That was from Anna.”

“Not really?” George frowned. “I suppose when we were being wined and dined by the labels and then everything kind of fell apart? But it ended for the better, because we then signed a great deal on an indie that allowed us to have total creative control. Retrospectively we wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He answered.

“But it wasn’t that bad!” Matty chimed in. “Getting’ flirted, y’know. We were really young when all these labels were going for us. We were always quite fortunate as a band to have a lot of foresight.”

“Right, on that note, Jessica has asked how hard is it to stay true to your original ideas when speaking to labels?”

“You get really excited for the first few encounters, then you quickly learn to tame yourself and not get excited until you’re physically doing what has been said that they’ll do for you. You’ve gotta keep your head.” George answered.

“We just prided ourselves on our conviction. The only reason we wanted to do was this because it was on our terms.”

  “Okay, Brian has asked if you guys ever fall out?”

“No.” Both of them instantly answered.

“We Just avoid that stuff and let other people deal with it. It’s too much of a personal endeavour to let the small stuff get to you. It’s not like we’re four boys who started a band because we wanted to be in a band, we’re four mates who ended up in a band by accident. So, pfft, whatever.” The singer scoffed.

“We’ve not focused on the financial stuff or anything like that. The only thing we have maintained is to have the final say and total creative control, and we all agree on that so there's not been any arguments to have.” George said.

“Last serious one and then we have some quick fire stuff.” She said as she scribbled out the last question. “Brendan wanted to know what your biggest accomplishment is so far?”

“Just making the record.” Matty said with a shrug. “I don’t really care how that record’s perceived or embraced, because it’s such an honest record - it’s such an honest depiction of who we are and where we’re from. It’s so uncompromised. The fact that a band like us managed to make a record like that without compromising at all… I’m just proud of that as an idea.”

  “Okay, some short and sweet ones to end out the interview.” George and Matty sat up a little straighter in their seats. “Who's the best behaved?” She asked.

“George is tidy, I guess?” Matty seemed hesitant as he glanced at his mate. “He’s quite well behaved but we’re all quite well behaved because we’ve been in a band for a long time. This a very… kind of pursuit for music for us. A lot of our partying doesn’t actually happen when we’re on tour. We try and be as good as possible. All of us have our moments? We’re in a rock band, y’know what I mean?” He chuckled, running a hand through his mohawk.

“These are meant to be quick, Matty.” She reminded him with a smile. “If you could pick one person dead or alive to be stuck on an island with, who would it be?”

“Musically? Michael Jackson – just to go through musical ideas. But I think he’d get on my nerves after a couple of days.”

“Yeah, same.” George agreed.

  “Can you moonwalk?”

“Yes. Very well.”

“Which celebrity do you think would have the best banter at a party?”

“Anyone from Geordie Shore.”

“If you could swap wardrobes with anyone, who would you want it to be?”

“ASAP rocky. For sure.”

“Write us a poem.”

“That's not quick fire!” He scoffed with a laugh. “And that's not a question!” He added, now properly laughing. “In an interview, the idea is to ask questions that I can answer. You’re giving me all of the work.”

“Ahh, I thought you'd be able to churn out something instinctual like those people who spill the truth after a bunch of quick questions.” She grinned.

  “Well, that's all we have time for.” She sighed, leaning back a bit in her chair. “Thank you guys for coming in to the studio to have a chat.”

“It's no problem.” George smiled sweetly.

“We'll be here any time you want us on.” Matty replied.

“That was Matty and George from The 1975, and a track from them is coming up next.” She finished up as she set Chocolate up to play next. The two boys started getting up from their seats, grabbing their stuff and straightening out their jackets. As they were about to leave, she heard Matty tell George to go on ahead and he'd catch up. She spun in her chair to face him as he walked back over to her.

“I was serious , by the way.” Matty said, leaning back against the desk. “Any time you want us on the show, or if you wanna come out to see us play, just let me know.” He said as he held out a piece of paper. She took it from him, realising it had his number scrawled on it.

“Is this meant to be a subtle way of giving me your number?” She frowned up at him, but he definitely caught on to the excitement she was trying her best to hide.

“It can be whatever you want it to be.” He shrugged with a smirk as he followed after his friend.

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @dot-writes @tooshhhy @robinrunsfiction @approved-by-dentists

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[staircasttext]

Ep 19: Beaver Tales

Episode 19

[intro music]

PAZ: Hi everyone, welcome back to Stairway to StarClan, a Warriors Cat reread pawdcast. I'm Paz.

JULIAN: I'm Julian.

LIZ: And I'm Liz.

PAZ: And we're back again this week with chapters seven to 10 of Forest of Secrets. I almost said Fire and Ice. No, we're done with that. Kind of a lot of in camp activities these chapters, I would say.

JULIAN: Yeah, some tightly focused drama.

PAZ: Yeah. I don't know anything, any pressing pre-summary thoughts, or should we just go into it?

LIZ: Let's just hop right in.

PAZ: Okay. Chapter seven. After Bluestar dismisses Fireheart, he bumps into Cinderpaw on her way to find herbs for Yellowfang and accompanies her. On the way out, they see Cloudkit and the other kits taunting Brokentail. Fireheart is conflicted and angry, and snatches Cloudkit away from Brokentail, telling the other kits to go back to the nursery. Darkstripe calls Fireheart a kittypet again, and Fireheart explains to Cloudkit what that means. He also tells Cloudkit that they were both kittypets, which shocks Cloudkit. Cloudkit vows to become a good warrior anyway, and Fireheart reminds him about being honorable.

Cinderpaw checks on Brokentail and Darkstripe returns into the den. Fireheart and Cinderpaw let Cloudkit come with them to find herbs, and she teaches Cloudkit a bit of what she's learned about foraging. While they talk about Cloudkit's future, Cloudkit eats some-- doesn't eat. That'd be bad if he. Cloudkit almost eats some poisonous berries before Cinderpaw stops him. Cloudkit, dead. He's dead now.

LIZ: Dead in Miami.

PAZ: Dead in chapter seven of Forest of Secrets. No, that didn't happen. He takes her warning seriously. Afterwards, Cinderpaw wonders what her future will be like, feeling uncertain and pained, and Fireheart encourages her to talk to Bluestar. He thinks briefly about Bluestar's reaction to Graypool's story again, and thinks to himself that it's beyond his understanding.

Chapter eight. Fireheart has a disturbing dream about kits suckling from a faceless grey queen, who then disappears. Spottedleaf appears, sheltering the kits, and the dream ends. When he wakes up, he thinks about Graypool's story again, noticing that Graystripe is also missing, seeing Silverstream, of course. He and Sandstorm decide to go hunting, taking poor Brackenpaw with them since Graystripe has forgotten about him again. Brackenpaw catches a bird, but they suddenly hear the sound of a kit in danger. They find a badger menacing Cloudkit and manage to chase it off. They wonder about how strange it was for a badger to be out in daytime. Cloudkit is returned safely to Brindleface, but Tigerclaw punishes him for wasting everyone's time, though isn't Cloudkit's fault. His punishment is to clean up for the elders.

Meanwhile, Yellowfang has taken Brokentail outside to talk about newleaf, while Darkstripe and Longtail act as guards. She's very gentle and motherly, but Brokentail doesn't respond. Fireheart watches sadly, thinking of mothers and kits, and then Mistyfoot and Stonefur again.

Chapter nine. While Cinderpaw tends to Brackenpaw's wounds from attacking the badger, Fireheart checks in on Cloudkit and helps him with tending to the elders. Fireheart tells him about having to tend to Yellowfang's ticks, her ass ticks, when he was younger, which cheers Cloudkit up.

Later, Fireheart sees Tigerclaw sneaking out of camp, so he decides to follow him. He notices Tigerclaw is getting close to Twolegplace, wondering if he's trying to track down Princess to hurt her. Fireheart also happens to catch a mouse on the way, which gives him an alibi for hunting, when he literally bumps into Tigerclaw soon after.

When Tigerclaw returns to camp, Fireheart checks around Twolegplace, where he smells that a lot of strange, unknown cats have been around in addition to Tigerclaw. He also meets with Princess briefly, and he tells her about how well Cloudkit is growing up, promising to bring him to see her in newleaf. On the way back to camp, he sees that newleaf's thaw has started.

Chapter 10. Fireheart tells Bluestar about the strange cat scents, and she says she'll send patrols out, thinking they might be rogues from Twolegplace. Two days later, newleaf has truly arrived, and there's plenty of food to hunt. Fireheart is pleased to see Cloudkit continuing to tend to the elders, even after his punishment has ended. Tigerclaw tells Fireheart to patrol the RiverClan border and renew the scent markings, and Fireheart realizes Tigerclaw is too clever to be hostile to him in public. He takes some other warriors with him, including Sandstorm and Graystripe, who is the most excited in case he sees Silverstream. However, they don't smell any RiverClan cats at all. The river has overflowed from the thaw, flooding Sunningrocks. And that's the end of the readings this week. What? Does anybody want to say anything?

JULIAN: Sorry, I was on the Wikipedia page for badgers again. Just for when we get to it.

PAZ: The Wikipedia page or like the Warriors wiki page?

JULIAN: No, the regular Wikipedia page.

PAZ: Oh, okay.

JULIAN: I was not on the Warriors wiki page, although I'm sure that's a rich vein.

LIZ: Oh, I'll check.

PAZ: No, don't. There's spoilers. Don't check.

LIZ: I'll just read the first sentence, how about that. There's only the first sentence and then the contents, like table of contents. They do have a picture of a real badger on there.

PAZ: That's beautiful.

LIZ: Not an illustrated one. "Badgers are thickset medium-sized animals with huge muscles and beady eyes that are mainly active at night, and are enemies to cats in the Warriors series." There you go.

JULIAN: Hot damn.

PAZ: Huge muscles.

JULIAN: The thing that I was reading on the actual Wikipedia page for badgers is that apparently they're usually pretty chill, unless they're cornered.

PAZ: Yeah, I thought so.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's saying that they often live alongside and will share their burrows with red foxes.

LIZ: Ooh.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: "Foxes provide badgers with food scraps, and badgers maintain the shared burrows' cleanliness."

LIZ: Roommates.

PAZ: Wow, love is real.

JULIAN: "Although sometimes this can go wrong, and cases are known of badgers driving vixens from their dens and destroying their litters."

PAZ: [gasp]

LIZ: [gasp] Oh.

JULIAN: "In return, red foxes are known to have killed badger cubs in spring."

LIZ: Roommates to enemies.

PAZ: Roommates to enemies.

JULIAN: Sometimes your roommate situation goes south.

PAZ: Yeah, it can be like that with roommates. Yeah, I'm like, I thought badgers were fairly chill. They're not like wolverines.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: No, they're pretty chill unless you corner them. And that's not what happened here.

PAZ: Maybe this badger has rabies. That was my first thought when it was like, it's out in the daytime.

JULIAN: Oh, that's possible.

PAZ: I was like, does this badger have rabies? Is Brackenpaw gonna get rabies?

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: He hasn't had his shots.

PAZ: Exactly. He hasn't had his rabies shots.

LIZ: This is why Fireheart is like the chosen one, or whatever.

PAZ: Speaking of Brackenpaw, poor Brackenpaw.

JULIAN: God.

LIZ: Poor little guy.

JULIAN: Fuckin, Graystripe, do your job. Do your job.

LIZ: How often does he have to see his girlfriend?

PAZ: Every hour of every day, apparently.

JULIAN: Like I get it. They don't have Skype. They can't write each other letters or like text or whatever. But like, you gotta deal.

LIZ: Make a schedule.

PAZ: Just go out at night, or something.

JULIAN: Have a weekly date night. And then be normal.

PAZ: I'm glad that the text pointed out that Graystripe sucks and is a bad teacher again because he is.

LIZ: Poor Brackenpaw.

JULIAN: Well, and it's having serious impacts on-- yeah. It's having serious impacts on Brackenpaw's like emotional health. He's really unsure of himself. And like, even when he did a really good job fighting off the badger, he's like, oh no, I'm sure it wasn't that-- like I didn't do that good.

LIZ: Brackenpaw is very cool. He caught a bird out of the air and then was very self-conscious about that.

PAZ: Yeah, he did a double-jump.

LIZ: Yeah. Where'd he learn that? Not Graystripe.

PAZ: Hell no. Graystripe wouldn't fight a badger. Graystripe would just leave.

JULIAN: Graystripe would leave the badger for someone else to deal with.

LIZ: There's that part where like Brackenpaw's like, oh, all the other apprentices are so much younger, but they're gonna be warriors before me.

PAZ: I know.

JULIAN: Also, like, Graystripe, do your job. Also Bluestar do your job.

PAZ: Bluestar... horrible leader.

JULIAN: Or-- not to be like, Tigerclaw should get in here. But like, if he's going to be aggressive and mean, maybe he should be aggressive and mean about the actual problems.

LIZ: He should just ground Graystripe for like a month.

JULIAN: Graystripe can deal with the elders' ticks.

PAZ: Okay, like, not to be like Tigerclaw's right again. But him giving Cloudkit a little like, oh, take care of the elders punishment seemed to work. Cloudkit gained some emotional maturity from that, so.

JULIAN: Yeah, I do have a note that's like his reasoning sucks, but this is good for Cloudkit.

PAZ: Yeah, Cloudkit needed that.

JULIAN: Also like, it integrates him better with the clan. Again, worst person you know made a great point.

LIZ: It's very funny. He just became like a mean teacher for a second. It's like, this is the 90s movie where Cloudkit is like the rowdy new transfer. Tigerclaw's like his mean math teacher or something, and he gives him extra homework. It makes his math better. I don't know. Is that how the movies go? Math, right? Math.

PAZ: Yeah. Uh-huh.

JULIAN: I didn't have a TV, so.

PAZ: Sure.

JULIAN: Yes?

LIZ: Well, I've never seen a movie, so we are equal here.

PAZ: I think we jumped around a little bit though. I guess we can--

JULIAN: We did. We jumped straight to chapter eight.

PAZ: I forgot when that happened. For some reason I thought Brackenpaw being abandoned started in chapter seven, but it is not. It's Cinderpaw.

LIZ: Just start, in my mind, poor guy.

JULIAN: Oh, Cinderpaw.

PAZ: Once again, Cinderpaw seems to be doing just fine. But Fireheart's manpain, like internal narrative is terrible. Be quiet.

JULIAN: There is a line about how he's not in the mood for sharing tongues with his friends, which I know we've covered this before. I will never get used to sharing tongues.

LIZ: Why isn't it just called cleaning?

JULIAN: Grooming.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Well...

LIZ: There's a word for it. You got it.

PAZ: Yeah, I don't know. I don't know who decided that would be the term for it.

LIZ: Also, since we did like start out with, you know, seeing how like, we got to see how Brackenpaw felt about his situation, it's kind of like an capital-I Interesting contrast to see that in like Cinderpaw, cause we don't really get to see much of that, just kind of like Fireheart's man pain.

PAZ: I mean, she does like voice her feelings in this part, where she's like, I don't really know what I'm doing because we only have three jobs in our society. And no one's told me now what I should do.

LIZ: I guess it's like the way it cycles back to Fireheart, which...

PAZ: Yeah, that's true.

JULIAN: Yeah, the framing is very like Fireheart-centric, in a way that I wish it were not.

PAZ: Yeah, I agree.

JULIAN: God, it is like, he's so close, because there's one point where-- let me find the portion. Yeah. "Cinderpaw was brave and intelligent, and before her accident, she had shown endless energy and commitment to the clan. Surely that couldn't all be thrown away." Yeah, Fireheart, surely it couldn't. Like he's soooooo close. And yet so far away.

LIZ: My guy.

JULIAN: Like I'm glad she's found something that she can do, but blehhhhh.

LIZ: She was given one option by one person.

JULIAN: Well, and it's also in the like bit with the deathberries, um, like she does move very quickly when required. When the plot requires her to be able to move quickly, she sure can.

PAZ: Yeah, it's almost like she could hunt and stuff fine if anyone would just let her, or do anything else.

JULIAN: It's like right after he sees that that Fireheart is like, damn. Too bad she's helpless.

PAZ: Yeah, speaking of helplessness-- disability framed as helplessness, all this stuff with Brokentail at the start of chapter seven is also like what the hell.

LIZ: Ooh. Yikes.

JULIAN: It's so fucked.

LIZ: It's fucked.

PAZ: It frames him as completely helpless. I'm like, all he is is blind. He didn't like...

LIZ: He's still like an adult cat.

JULIAN: Right, he still has claws and like teeth. I fully expected him to kill one of the kits.

PAZ: He's just barely reacted. It's so weird.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's also just like, you know, I'm glad that Fireheart like takes Cloudkit aside and is like, Hey, don't do that.

LIZ: Yeah, it's fucking shitty. Don't do it.

JULIAN: But yeah, the fact that like-- and you know, it is framed as like a fucked up thing that the kits have done to like be taunting their prisoner, their disabled prisoner, but oooh! Yeesh.

PAZ: Yeah, it's like, it's one thing to like-- there was sort of a part where like Darkstripe like threatened Brokentail when like he almost clawed them, but like it wasn't really being framed as like, he's not doing it because he'll get, like, beat up by the guard. It was like-- he just barely reacted. And it was like, oh he couldn't track where the kits were. I'm like, he still has ears. He still has whiskers.

JULIAN: He has ears and whiskers and like scent.

LIZ: That's mostly what they hunt with anyway. It's not like they use their incredible bird's eye view to hunt the mouse.

JULIAN: Yeah, all the descriptions of hunting are like, oh, they hear the mouse rustling in the grass. Like they can't see the mouse.

PAZ: It's so weird.

LIZ: I mean, like we know why it's like this, and it's because the author didn't put the work into it to like-- just thinks this is the only way you can write your disabled character.

JULIAN: Yeah, I guess it really is sort of one finger curls on the monkey's paw. We were like, oh, I wish there were another disabled character besides Cinderpaw.

PAZ: Mm.

JULIAN: And we got one, and...

PAZ: Somehow worse.

JULIAN: He literally has Broken in the name.

PAZ: Yeah, but that scene-- oh, go ahead.

JULIAN: And then Fireheart gets-- oh sorry, I was gonna say, and then Fireheart gets to explain racism to Cloudkit.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: He literally says we have to work twice as hard. Oh my God.

JULIAN: Head in my hands.

PAZ: It's a kids book so I'll let it pass, but it is very funny.

LIZ: When's Cloudkit gonna have his lunchbox moment?

JULIAN: Oh God.

PAZ: He has his little catnip mouse. All the warriors are like, ew, what's that?

LIZ: Fuck.

JULIAN: Oh, God.

PAZ: Princess gives him some Temptations to take back to camp.

JULIAN: To bring home to them. To all his friends.

LIZ: And when all his friends are like, you know, in college, they're gonna be going to all the overpriced fusion Temptations bars.

PAZ: Oh god.

JULIAN: All the catnip lounges.

LIZ: Terrible.

JULIAN: Also, not only is Fireheart explaining racism to Cloudkit, but he's also telling Cloudkit that he's adopted, which is a lot.

PAZ: Yeah, I mean to be fair, Fireheart thought that he already knew.

JULIAN: Which is also, how did he not know?

PAZ: I don't know. I guess he just never like brought it up with Brindleface.

JULIAN: But they were all teasing him for being a kittypet.

PAZ: Were they?

LIZ: Maybe.

JULIAN: I think so.

PAZ: I don't know if they ever did it to his face.

JULIAN: I guess it was mostly like-- yeah.

PAZ: Well, he said like, so that's why everyone hates me but I don't know if anyone ever called him a kittypet like to his face.

JULIAN: Yeah, no, I think you're right. Damn.

PAZ: I do love that Cloudkit says, "'so that's why the other cats hate me,' he spat. 'They think I'll never be any good because I wasn't born in this dump of a forest.'"

LIZ: Get 'em.

PAZ: So good. Get 'em.

LIZ: I love his like immediate turnaround like fuck this house. None of you are my dad.

PAZ: He's such a funny child.

JULIAN: There's a bit later where when Fireheart meets with Princess, he's like, yeah, your son's doing great. Um, and then mentally he's like, yeah, and he's spoiled and like nosy. But I do love him.

PAZ: He's very fun.

LIZ: Just a little rowdy boy.

PAZ: Yeah, he's a little brat rowdy boy.

LIZ: He's definitely like a season two protagonist.

JULIAN: Mm, mm-hmm.

LIZ: Know what I mean?

PAZ: Yeah? You think, second series?

LIZ: Mm-hmm. It's like, no, it's not about the power of friendship anymore. It's about the power of me winning the sports game, except it is friendship, but I have to get through a couple of my own walls first, because of--

JULIAN: What sport do you think the cats will be inventing?

LIZ: What's a good one for them to play? Soccer. There you go.

PAZ: Yeah, they would love to bat a little ball around.

JULIAN: Or like a sort of--

LIZ: A moss ball.

JULIAN: I was gonna say, sort of a, like, Maya toss ball situation, where you have to get the ball into the hoop.

LIZ: They can have one more job then. It's hoop maker.

JULIAN: Hoop maker and athlete.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: Two more jobs. Three more jobs if they need referees.

PAZ: Wow. They can do like, like inter clan sports competitions, and that'll get all the bloodlust out when they just, you know, they play sports.

JULIAN: What if the cats have football riots though?

LIZ: They would. They will. It's terrible. Who's England in this situation?

JULIAN: ThunderClan, right?

LIZ: Yeah. Boo.

PAZ: Has to be.

JULIAN: Like, thinks they're good, has done many crimes.

PAZ: Exactly.

JULIAN: Although I guess ShadowClan is like the most obviously expansionist, so.

PAZ: They're all England.

LIZ: Ugh.

JULIAN: Maybe ThunderClan is like Germany

LIZ: They'll also probably need more like medics. So that's not a new job, but it is like expanding it.

PAZ: Yeah, more than two doctors.

LIZ: Oh, what a luxury.

JULIAN: More than one and a half doctors.

PAZ: Speaking of the doctors, it's very like stupid that Cinderpaw's like, oh I don't know what I'll do. And it's like, you're acting as the medicine cat. Throughout all these chapters, you were just a second doctor. And Fireheart's also like, I have no idea. Oh, you'll have to talk to Bluestar.

LIZ: Assigned doctor.

PAZ: I bet Yellowfang's gonna be like, um, I thought you were already my apprentice like three weeks ago.

LIZ: Well, did she ask?

PAZ: I guess, I don't know. It's just like--

LIZ: Listen, these cats are pretty dense.

JULIAN: Yellowfang seems like the kind of character who doesn't ask for things but sort of tries to trick people into doing nice things for them. She's like, oh, uh, oh, whoops, I made all this soup. You have to eat it or it'll go to waste.

LIZ: Tricks you into a paying job.

JULIAN: Yeah, Cinderpaw has a little moment where she's like, oh, yeah, I'm gonna have to move out of Yellowfang's den. And it's like, will you? I don't think you will. Has she asked you to?

LIZ: She probably already made you a room.

PAZ: Yeah, I'm pretty sure she has a bed there. I mean not just like her, like recovering bed.

JULIAN: Yellowfang like carefully decorating the walls while Cinderpaw's out.

LIZ: Yellowfang makes her a Welcome Home Temptations cake with a little ribbon.

PAZ: Cinderpaw also says, "ever since I was a tiny kit I wanted to be like Bluestar," and I'm like, no you don't.

LIZ: No. I mean she probably did.

JULIAN: Yeah, that's the lie of being a girlboss.

PAZ: I think you're better off.

JULIAN: Yeah, it seems like Bluestar isn't doing so hot.

LIZ: The part where Fireheart tells her like, oh, Bluestar will know what to do.

PAZ: I know. I was like, I don't think so.

JULIAN: When has Bluestar ever known what to do?

LIZ: For like five chapters in the first book.

PAZ: Yeah, and in like the beginning of book two with WindClan. And then it was kinda over.

LIZ: I don't know what's happening lately. Maybe she got taken over by the ghost of a cat that's not good at being...

JULIAN: Speaking of Yellowfang, the scenes with her and Brokentail are so sad.

PAZ: Like her being like, she's being motherly to him, and him just like, absolutely not responding. Of course he doesn't know that she's his mom.

JULIAN: Right. Woof.

LIZ: [sighs]

PAZ: Drama.

LIZ: There's a part where it says like, she makes like little mom noises at him.

PAZ: Yeah, I was in tears.

JULIAN: Or like, she was like grooming him, and like he does not even move.

LIZ: Aw.

JULIAN: Yellowfang, it's okay. You have so many other children.

PAZ: I know. This kid sucks.

JULIAN: You have so many children who don't suck.

PAZ: I guess we didn't really talk about that prophecy dream Fireheart had, but it wasn't really that interesting.

JULIAN: Yeah, it didn't really tell us anything that we don't already know.

PAZ: Yeah, it was just Spottedleaf being like Fireheart, you idiot. You know who those kits are.

LIZ: Who's that gray cat?

PAZ: I don't know.

LIZ: Well, there are so many gray cats, just.

PAZ: It's true.

LIZ: Like there's definitely more than-- like I knew about them, but it just seems more pointed out now for some reason. Is that just me? Like, it talks about how Cinderpelt is-- sorry, Cinderpaw. I know what happens later, name-wise. How she's gray. We already know Graystripe's gray. There's Graypool, there's Silverstream, there's that other guy. There's Yellowfang?

JULIAN: Stonefur?

PAZ: No, Yellowfang has black fur, I think.

JULIAN: Or like dark brown.

LIZ: Dark brown?

PAZ: Yeah. Persian cat.

JULIAN: Yeah, it does feel like they're like, hey, look, like all these gray cats. Parallels.

LIZ: It's cause there's no black and white.

PAZ: Was Oakheart gray too? How many fucking gray cats were there?

LIZ: Lots.

JULIAN: [typing] Oakheart Warriors wiki. He was... uh, no. He was reddish-brown.

PAZ: Well.

LIZ: That's a lot more uncommon, I think, like a reddish brown cat that isn't like a tabby or something. Like you ever see a brown cat? Like a brown brown cat?

JULIAN: I have, but it's definitely, like--

PAZ: Just pure brown? Yeah, those are a--

JULIAN: A weird-looking color.

PAZ: Those kinds of cats always look really smooth. It's probably a breed, that kind I'm thinking of.

LIZ: They look like just little like wild cats.

JULIAN: Oh, it's a Havana Brown.

LIZ: Hmm.

PAZ: We already talked about Brackenpaw being abandoned. The badger, of course,

LIZ: I don't know, does he become more prominent later?

PAZ: Brackenpaw?

JULIAN: Who?

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: I cannot-- I literally cannot remember.

JULIAN: Yeah, I also super do not remember.

LIZ: Is there like, I don't know, like, just like a fanfiction that's like a day in the life of Brackenpaw? What's he do? Poor guy.

PAZ: I feel like maybe I remember this scene.

JULIAN: I don't see anything like super big that he does later, but.

LIZ: Aw. Okay, new Patreon goal. Listen, if we get to $420. I don't know what'll happen.

PAZ: Oh. Sorry, I'm just reading something. I forgot who he mentored.

JULIAN: There is a nice little sentence here, first paragraph. "He was apprenticed early with the name Brackenpaw, mentored by Graystripe. However, Graystripe neglected his duties." Hell yeah he did.

LIZ: Bitch.

PAZ: "And Brackenpaw's training was mostly completed by Fireheart." Uh-huh.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yep.

PAZ: That's right.

LIZ: It's definitely more apparent in these chapters like that the other cats are picking up the slack, too, which is nice, but.

JULIAN: Yeah, Whitestorm and the other guy are like, yeah, we're gonna take all the cats out, all the apprentices out for a hunt.

PAZ: School field trip.

LIZ: But is it like-- does it feel like, oh, I'm like a sixth grader, and these are all first graders?

PAZ: Yeah, that seems to be the vibe because Brackenpaw's like really upset about it.

LIZ: He can't talk about Fortnite with them. They're too young.

JULIAN: Oh shit, new pixel art of Graystripe just dropped.

PAZ: Oh shit.

LIZ: What?

JULIAN: I think this is new. I don't remember seeing this. He's all fluffy in this pixel art. From the Warriors wiki.

LIZ: Whoa.

PAZ: Whoa. Why's he so dark?

JULIAN: I know, right?

LIZ: No, it's because he's wet from being in Riverclan all the time.

PAZ: Of course.

LIZ: [snickers]

PAZ: What? Got that trap neuter return ear?

LIZ: I was just gonna say that. What happened to you, Graystripe?

PAZ: Maybe if his balls got cut off that would solve a lot of problems.

JULIAN: God.

LIZ: I think he'd still be a bitch. He didn't have a girlfriend when he was like, mm, I don't know about this Tigerclaw being a murder thing

PAZ: God, I can't get over that. I mean, there's a badger scene. There's Cloudkit getting his punishment.

LIZ: What is the level of sentience that badgers have here?

PAZ: I don't know.

JULIAN: Well. I mean, there's some stuff later. But I don't know about badgers in general.

PAZ: Yeah, I don't know if all badgers are sentient or not.

LIZ: Okay, well, the way you guys said that made me think there's like a special badger.

PAZ: No comment.

LIZ: Hmm.

JULIAN: I really love how much of this description is clearly copied from Wikipedia or like an encyclopedia article about badgers. I don't think that it's been revealed anywhere in the Warrior books that male and female badgers generally have the same head-body length falling between 56 and 90 centimeters.

LIZ: God bless.

JULIAN: I just don't think the cats are thinking in centimeters.

LIZ: Oh, they use inches?

JULIAN: Oh, there's a source for all this. Oh, it's revealed on animaldiversity.ummz.umich.edu. Yep.

PAZ: Of course.

JULIAN: I do love that they continue to use the revealed language for...

PAZ: It's so funny. I was reading about the supposed Warriors film and it was of course, all revealed on variety.com.

LIZ: Variety?

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: I see.

JULIAN: Oh, this badger looks so cute. There's a badger art from the badger from Secrets of the Clans, which is one of the Warrior guidebooks, and it has--

PAZ: Oh my gosh.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: The roundest, softest face.

PAZ: Oh my god, I'm in tears.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: This badger looks like the picture of the cat who's been photoshopped to be crying.

LIZ: What has this badger seen?

JULIAN: Also, that's not a Eurasian badger. That's an American badger.

PAZ: Yeah, that is definitely not.

JULIAN: That's the wrong species.

LIZ: What the fuck's a Eurasian badger look like?

JULIAN: It's got the long--

PAZ: It's the classic like black and white striped one, right?

JULIAN: Yeah, so like if you look at the picture at the top of the wiki article, it's a badger with a much longer face with stripes that go all the way down. And that's a Eurasian badger, and the American badger has a much rounder babier looking face.

LIZ: What a sad looking little guy. What have you seen? Do you think the American badger's looking over at like England or whatever with its incredible Hawkeye vision like, oh, that poor little Brackenpaw. If it was me, I wouldn't have attacked a little baby kitten. Oh, those poor cats.

JULIAN: Oh, I'm sorry. I know we got to move off of the Wikipedia page, but I found an amazing picture of an American badger.

PAZ: Please.

LIZ: We'll post these badger pictures on the Twitter. Don't you guys worry.

PAZ: If we remember. Oh my god.

JULIAN: Look at that lad!

LIZ: Oh my God. Oh my god.

PAZ: Holy shit.

LIZ: This looks fake.

PAZ: This looks like they stretched the jpeg.

JULIAN: It's on illinois.gov.

LIZ: What?

JULIAN: It's on the Department of Natural Resources.

PAZ: [wheezing] What is-- what--

LIZ: Chunky.

PAZ: What's wrong with its head?

JULIAN: I mean, they fucking, they all look like this.

LIZ: Nothing. It's perfect.

JULIAN: Here's from the Encyclopedia Britannica.

PAZ: Oh my god.

LIZ: I didn't know they looked like this.

JULIAN: Look at him. There he goes, trot, trot.

LIZ: His powerful stance.

PAZ: They're so wide. I can't. They look like potatoes.

JULIAN: Absolute legend.

LIZ: That's how they make those tunnels. They just like wiggle.

JULIAN: Here's a European badger, just to like for comparison. We can-- I'm putting all these images in the chat so we can tweet them later. Just a long boy. Just a looong slinky boy.

PAZ: Yeah, that's a much less wide, wide lad.

LIZ: Very classic.

PAZ: Still very round nose.

JULIAN: Oh, here's one running.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Thank you Shutterstock. Thank you Shutterstock. Thank you whichever photographer hid out in a wild, in like a lane somewhere in England.

PAZ: Oh my god. Look at it go.

JULIAN: To catch this lad.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: It looks like--

LIZ: He go.

PAZ: You know the like boom mic on TVs that they--

LIZ: Yes.

PAZ: It looks like one of those.

JULIAN: Oh, I love him.

LIZ: What's that thing you keep telling me to get for my mic?

PAZ: Oh, a pop filter?

LIZ: Yeah. He looks like a pop filter.

JULIAN: I'm also seeing an image that says, it's a infographic about the differences between the European badger and American badger, but [laughing] the European badger is clearly a beaver.

LIZ: Wait.

JULIAN: Like, could not more clearly be a beaver.

PAZ: What?

LIZ: Wait a minute. Is this just a little nature joke? Little humor?

JULIAN: No, this is a whole... everything you need to know.

LIZ: Oh dear.

PAZ: Well, the first thing you need to know is that's not the European badger.

JULIAN: That's not a fucking badger. Oh, I know that this is clearly a content farm and someone just did a bad job. But this is a beaver. This is a beaver.

LIZ: This looks like a meme.

JULIAN: They do have it correct that none of these are good pets.

PAZ: No.

LIZ: True. God, look at that guy go. I can't stop looking at it. It's just running. Where's he going?

JULIAN: He has important business.

LIZ: Gotta go attack a baby. Heard that baby's an atheist.

PAZ: That's why the badger went for it.

JULIAN: The badger's here to enforce, uh. Oh, I'm sorry, I can't get over the beaver.

PAZ: Okay, we gotta move on.

LIZ: It's a badger.

JULIAN: We gotta move on. We gotta move on.

LIZ: A European badger.

PAZ: Cloudkit got attacked by a beaver.

LIZ: Just turns around and like, waps you.

JULIAN: Oh. Alright, what else happened in these chapters?

PAZ: I guess the next thing we didn't talk about, um, I mean we talked a little about... I guess Fireheart and Cloudkit have another little bonding scene getting the moss.

JULIAN: Yeah, that was cute. And then Tigerclaw's up to some shit again.

PAZ: Of course. Yeah, Tigerclaw going to Twolegplace to do nefarious things. There was a point where his pawprints were described as massive, which was extremely funny to me.

JULIAN: I love the image of Tigerclaw's just enormous big ol beans.

PAZ: Huge beans.

LIZ: Big ol beans compared to cats, though. How big could they be?

PAZ: Well, have you ever seen a cat with real, real big paw to body ratio? That's what I'm imagining. Like he's a big cat but his paws are even bigger.

LIZ: Yeah, but he could still fit in like...

PAZ: What if Tigerclaw's like a polydactyl? Is that what they're called?

LIZ: Oh, absolutely.

JULIAN: [gasps] Yes.

PAZ: Multiple toes.

LIZ: He's got thumbs so that's why he can commit all his crimes.

PAZ: It all makes sense.

LIZ: All dexterity. How did Tigerclaw kill all those other cats? He's got a gun.

PAZ: Holy shit.

JULIAN: I mean, he has been hanging out with all these back alley cats that smell like trash.

LIZ: These city cats.

JULIAN: This is how guns enter the rural English countryside.

PAZ: I love that Fireheart just keeps collecting evidence that Tigerclaw's evil, and he just can't do anything about it because Bluestar is useless.

LIZ: I just can't believe that in these chapters, there's that part specifically where he says Bluestar will know what to do.

PAZ: [snorts]

JULIAN: Right, it's like last-- well, I mean, I feel like he still thinks it's his fault, that he like didn't frame it right last time. Which is very sad.

PAZ: Yeah, but like, he tried to tell her twice. And each time she's been like, no,

LIZ: But it's definitely like being set up for that, right? Because this is very like his own perspective and it's gonna be a dramatic irony turn later.

JULIAN: Mm.

LIZ: Is that too hopeful?

PAZ: We'll see.

LIZ: [darkly] Mm.

PAZ: He does literally run into Tigerclaw.

JULIAN: He does. It's very funny.

LIZ: Right, he's like--

JULIAN: Bounces right off him anime-style.

LIZ: No, he's tailing him, right, and then he's like, oh fuck, but there's this mouse. Ooh, but I gotta--

PAZ: It's so funny. His little cat attention span.

LIZ: It's very video game, too. It's like, okay, main quest. Wait, fuck. Ooh. Mm. Give me a second.

PAZ: I'll be real quick. I just gotta. Yeah, there's a nasty cat smell. Princess shows back up. She's like, you're so thin.

JULIAN: She's like, hey, you're feeding my son, right?

LIZ: Princess having some second thoughts. It's like, maybe I should have gotten my fucking kid vaccinated before he went.

JULIAN: Maybe I should have let him reach like an adult size. Then his growth wouldn't be stunted.

PAZ: She's like, are you getting enough to eat, and Fireheart's just like, no. Doesn't even try to lie.

JULIAN: Imagine being Princess, though. It's like, your shithead brother comes back, is clearly malnourished, and you're like, oh my god, like, I have food at home. Come get some food. And he's like, I can't. The clan. It's like, buddy.

PAZ: He's just in a cult.

JULIAN: He's in a cult. She's trying her best to help him. Well, not really. She's not.

LIZ: Well, she--

PAZ: No, she gave her son to the cult.

JULIAN: She gave him her son.

LIZ: He could have just rolled in some garlic or whatever.

PAZ: Right? Didn't he roll in fox dung before? That was fine.

LIZ: Eat the Temptations.

JULIAN: Eat the Temptations. And then eat some like, I don't know, chives or something so no one can smell the Temptations, the sweet, sweet smell of Temptations on your breath.

LIZ: Just eat some catnip, damn.

PAZ: A single Temptation would kill a Warrior cat dead. Be overwhelming.

JULIAN: God, they really are just like medieval peasants out there in the woods, eating their bowls of gruel. If they got a single bite of tender ocean fish dinner, they would just keel over.

LIZ: Don't they make like beggin strips or whatever for cats now?

JULIAN: Mm-hmm.

PAZ: Probably.

LIZ: You think like the Warriors have a little, little pot of catgrass? I don't think so.

PAZ: No.

LIZ: Everything out there's poisonous.

JULIAN: Well, at the fancy boutique pet bakery in my neighborhood, because of course there is one of those, they do have whole dried fish treats.

LIZ: Wow.

JULIAN: That you can give your cat, if you I guess don't care about having to sweep up after them.

LIZ: Wow.

JULIAN: We have never given one of those to Chickpea because I think she would-- it would be too much for her.

PAZ: No offense to Chickpea, but she doesn't seem to have very discerning taste.

JULIAN: No, no, she really wants Cheez-its.

LIZ: Aw.

JULIAN: She wants Cheez-its so bad.

PAZ: I can relate. I could go for some Cheez-its.

LIZ: She does look like someone who loves to crunch.

JULIAN: Today she knocked-- she loves to crunch. She loves to crunch, and I love to hear her crunch, so it's a win-win. Today she climbed on top of the fridge, again, to try to get the food that is no longer there because we moved it. And she knocked over like the 12 pack of Coke that was up there.

PAZ: Oh my gosh.

LIZ: Oh my god. Does she even weigh 12 packs of coke?

JULIAN: No. Well, there were probably like five or six in there. Um, but she tried to jump on it and then obviously her momentum-- she didn't have great purchase on top of the fridge, so it fell off. I just heard a clatter and came out, and she was looking very, um, you know cats do when it's like, oh I didn't do that. I'm the most distinguished.

PAZ: Kip goes up on the top of our fridge and knocks things over on purpose. He'll like look at me, and knock it off the top of the fridge.

JULIAN: Real Cloudkit. Real Cloudkit energies on that one.

LIZ: Kip's an atheist.

PAZ: Absolutely. Wow. Chapter 10.

JULIAN: Chapter 10.

LIZ: Wait, wait.

PAZ: Oh, yeah?

LIZ: No, just, what if we got one of those like, you know those YouTubes that are always like me making a gourmet cat-friendly meal for my cats?

PAZ: Yeah?

LIZ: We just gotta do that. And I don't know. I think that that has more pull than Temptations, maybe. It's like I made you cat sushi, or I made you like a cat cake.

PAZ: Are you saying that's what'll get Fireheart inside?

LIZ: I think so.

JULIAN: He's got discerning tastes is what you're saying.

LIZ: Mm-hmm.

JULIAN: He needs that raw meat.

PAZ: He does.

JULIAN: What even happened in chapter 10? I just have a note, Whitestorm is a good guy.

PAZ: That's true. Was he even mentioned?

JULIAN: Which is accurate.

PAZ: Was that him taking out the apprentices or something?

LIZ: I think so, yeah.

JULIAN: I think that's where I've, yeah.

PAZ: I've seen a lot of, I think Whitestorm X Tigerclaw stuff on YouTube. I think that's right.

LIZ: That is very funny.

PAZ: I love Tigerclaw's many exes. First Redtail. Now Whitestorm.

JULIAN: Well, I guess the reason we don't remember anything from chapter 10 is it's literally eight pages long.

PAZ: Yeah, it's real short. Fireheart tells Bluestar that there's nasty cats over at Twolegplace, but can't tell her that Tigerclaw is there, because he's like she just won't believe me.

JULIAN: Then they go on a little patrol and they go to RiverClan, and the river's flooded. Uh-oh.

PAZ: It sure is flooded.

JULIAN: I guess that's the downside to having your camp in the middle of the river.

PAZ: Yeah, I wonder if their camp's doing okay.

JULIAN: Yeah. Uh-oh.

LIZ: Oh boy.

PAZ: Uh-oh. I didn't even think about that.

LIZ: Whuh-oh.

JULIAN: I'm sure it's fine that Graystripe is on this patrol.

PAZ: Listen, one time he decides to do work is when he's like maybe I'll see my gf on the way.

JULIAN: God.

PAZ: Please, what are you gonna fucking do if you do see her?

LIZ: He's so annoying.

JULIAN: Well, he's gonna have a double date with Sandstorm and Fireheart and him and his gf and also--

PAZ: Running whoever. What's that guy's name? Runningwind.

JULIAN: Also Runningwind is there.

PAZ: Wow. Fifth wheel Runningwind.

LIZ: Well, maybe Runningwind will find his own starcrossed like cat romance. Triple date. Yes.

JULIAN: There you go.

PAZ: Perfect.

JULIAN: Runningwind slash, who's in... Stonefur.

PAZ: Oh.

LIZ: What do we call that?

PAZ: Runningstone. I'm Googling Runningwind. Don't Google Runningwind, Liz.

LIZ: I'm never going to get into that fucking spoiler channel. What's going on in there? I don't know.

PAZ: Runningwind stories Wattpad. "This is my spin on Warriors: The Prophecies Begin, just with a reader insert. I do not own Warriors. I only own the plot points I use." Oh, here we go. Redtail x Runningwind. Ooh.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: Tell me more.

JULIAN: Ohh.

PAZ: I'm intrigued.

JULIAN: I think this is literally the first time we've seen Runningwind say anything onscreen.

PAZ: Okay, this is someone posting on the forums, "I am utterly baffled by this ship."

LIZ: Well, them saying that makes me want to be like--

PAZ: Oh, fuck this person. They say, "I understand the trans Redtail thing, but I don't really like it. But I don't really care too much." Still, die.

JULIAN: Well, I don't care about you. I don't care about your opinion.

LIZ: Well, yeah.

PAZ: Your opinion is horrible.

JULIAN: And I think Redtail is trans. This is the first I've heard of this headcanon and I would now die for it.

LIZ: Redtail is trans and gay.

PAZ: We've heard of trans Redtail before. Yeah.

JULIAN: Have we?

PAZ: Apparently Redtail-- yeah, that was that one Youtuber's name.

JULIAN: Oh my god, right. It's the YouTuber. I'm sorry.

PAZ: Apparently Redtail was a male calico so yeah, trans Redtail.

JULIAN: Oh!

LIZ: Hell yeah.

PAZ: Just like Hadesclipse.

JULIAN: Just like Hadesclipse.

PAZ: Redtail likes Hadesclipse. This is my self insert.

LIZ: You're gonna have to fight Runningwind.

JULIAN: I guess Runningwind has been here before on screen. I just forgot about him. He helped train Brackenpaw back in Fire and Ice when Graystripe was once again not doing his job.

LIZ: He's just like a nice fellow.

JULIAN: Yeah, he's just a guy.

PAZ: I do not respect the person who made this forum thread at all.

LIZ: Yeah, get outta here, OP.

JULIAN: Uh-oh.

PAZ: Yeah?

JULIAN: I've read some stories or some spoilers for, uh.

PAZ: Yeah?

JULIAN: For later.

PAZ: Well, how bad--

LIZ: Wait, hold on a second. Wait. How come Julian gets to do it and not me?

PAZ: Because Julian's read the books!

JULIAN: Cause this is all shit that I should already know, I just don't remember.

LIZ: Mm. Hmm.

PAZ: Listen, once we finish the Power of Three, you can go wild, because that's up to where we got to. I don't know what we were doing.

LIZ: Chapter 10?

JULIAN: Chapter 10. The eight-page chapter 10. RiverClan is flooded.

PAZ: RIP RiverClan.

LIZ: Oh, sorry. Go ahead.

PAZ: I was just saying RIP RiverClan.

LIZ: I do want to talk about the one thing where Tigerclaw's telling Fireheart to patrol and then Fireheart is like, oh, he's too smart to be hostile to me in public. But he is, though.

PAZ: Right? He's already been hostile to you many times.

LIZ: He calls you a little bitch like every single day in front of people.

PAZ: For real.

JULIAN: It's like, you don't really need to set Fire-- or set Tigerclaw up as like conniving because he's already been conniving. We've seen him be conniving. Part of his connivingness is that he calls you a little bitch every day, and you can't do anything about it because he's the deputy.

PAZ: It's not like-- his whole posse calls Fireheart a little bitch. Fireheart got called a kittypet like two chapters ago.

LIZ: Right? The problem is that people don't care.

JULIAN: Fucking Longtail and Dustpelt.

PAZ: Yeah, and Darkstripe.

LIZ: One of those is like someone's brother, right?

JULIAN: Dustpelt is Sandstorm's brother.

PAZ: No, no, no, no, no.

LIZ: No, wait.

PAZ: They were just apprentices. He's, um, I think he's technically Ravenpaw's brother.

LIZ: Oh, right right right.

JULIAN: Is he?

PAZ: Or something like that.

LIZ: Someone is Ravenpaw's brother.

JULIAN: Oh, I just assumed they were siblings because they were...

PAZ: But it's like, not really--

JULIAN: Oh, you're right. He is Ravenpaw's brother.

LIZ: Wild.

JULIAN: And he's Longtail's half brother.

PAZ: Bitch.

JULIAN: Oh, he's such a little bitch because Darkstripe was his mentor.

LIZ: Duh.

PAZ: Oh. Sorry, I just saw a spoiler for the.... Oh man.

LIZ: These cats. I think that's it though for the chapters, right?

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: Yeah. Sorry. Sorry, Dustpelt had a son.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: Called Spiderleg.

JULIAN: [snorting]

LIZ: You can't do that. What about a cat is spidery?

JULIAN: Peyton's gonna be so angry.

LIZ: Please.

PAZ: That's incredible. I'm clicking Spiderleg's wiki page.

LIZ: Wait, I think Dustpelt should have eight children, no, nine children, and they should all be like Spiderleg 1, Spiderleg 2, Spiderleg 3, until you get to 8. And then you should have one just be like Spiderhead.

JULIAN: Oh holy shit.

LIZ: And then they can stand on top of each other like a mech.

JULIAN: Dustpelt is also Birchfall's father.

PAZ: Oh.

JULIAN: Birchfall of the bad name.

PAZ: I bet Peyton hates Spiderleg too.

JULIAN: Yeah, I guess, uh. Well, whoever the leader is the person who gave the leg name because Spiderkit is... I mean, it's a weird name. But it's a fine one.

LIZ: Oh God.

JULIAN: Oh, I hate that the pixel art here is this cat is looking directly at me. Usually the pixel art, the cat is kind of like, you know, three quarter view, like looking off into the distance. Spiderleg? Looking into my eyes.

PAZ: Sorry, what? Here's a quote caption. "Spiderleg annoyed with Dovepaw when she talks about brown animals." What?

JULIAN: What?

LIZ: Hey, Spiderleg, you, hey, what?

PAZ: What? Brown animals.

JULIAN: [yells]

LIZ: What is that noise you just made?

JULIAN: [hysterical laughter]

PAZ: Hold on. Just gonna screenshot this.

JULIAN: [creaks]

PAZ: If my phone will let me.

JULIAN: Oh God.

PAZ: It all comes full circle.

JULIAN: It really does.

LIZ: [laughing] Oh my god.

PAZ: I clicked "brown animals," and it took me to the beaver page.

LIZ: What does it mean?

PAZ: "Friendly? No."

LIZ: What does it mean?

JULIAN: Beavers aren't friendly?

PAZ: No.

JULIAN: "Relation to clan cats. If provoked they're able to kill a cat with their sharp front teeth."

PAZ: Holy shit.

LIZ: Is that true?

JULIAN: That has never happened.

PAZ: I do not think so.

LIZ: Wait. [typing] Can beavers kill cats. [gasps]

JULIAN: Beaver versus cat.

LIZ: "Beaver attacks can be fatal to domestic animals."

JULIAN: [gasps]

PAZ: Holy shit.

LIZ: There's a whole Wikipedia page for beaver attack.

PAZ: I never would have guessed.

LIZ: Oh, you gotta see this beaver. You gotta see the beaver they use. Look at him, looking at you.

JULIAN: Oh.

PAZ: Oh no.

LIZ: What the fuck?

PAZ: He's so round. I'm so scared.

LIZ: Got his little paws together like [evil laugh] I will.

JULIAN: A beaver has killed a man.

LIZ: What?

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: "Relation to clan cats." Oh, go ahead.

JULIAN: Um, I mean, okay, so this is a 60 year old guy who grabbed the beaver, to take a photo with it.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: And the beaver bit open his femoral artery.

PAZ: Oh, okay, he shouldn't have done that.

LIZ: Yikes.

JULIAN: So it was like, you shouldn't have done it. Also, it was like bad luck. It just happened to get the femoral.

PAZ: Here's what the Warriors wiki has to say. "Relation to clan cats. Beavers are known to be both inquisitive with cats, but also aggressive if provoked."

JULIAN: Oh my god?

LIZ: Well, how many beavers are they gonna see in England?

JULIAN: There are beavers in England.

PAZ: Yeah, there are beavers.

LIZ: Have we covered this? This feels...

PAZ: I feel like we have, yes.

JULIAN: I think we have. There's beavers in the Narnia book.

LIZ: Aren't they like-- isn't it that like beavers have been recently reintroduced or something?

JULIAN: Yes, we talked about this because they were hunted for their fur to almost extinction, and then they made a big comeback.

PAZ: To kill cats.

LIZ: Good for them?

JULIAN: Good for them. Aw, this is one sleeping and he's all curled up into his tail.

LIZ: I'm just looking at the list of non fatal attacks on humans by beavers.

PAZ: Get 'em.

LIZ: While you say this. Goddamn.

JULIAN: Oh, this image is too powerful for Discord.

PAZ: Understandable.

LIZ: Can you screenshot it?

JULIAN: Oh, I just posted the link, because it's 6000 by 4000 pixels.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Aw. Have you guys seen baby beavers? They are an incredible shape.

LIZ: Oh yeah. Mm-hmm.

JULIAN: Oh, I don't think I have. Baby beavers. Listeners, I hope you enjoy our animal googling. Oh!

PAZ: They're just such a good shape. They're so fuzzy. They're so round.

JULIAN: Oh, they're so fluffy. Oh, I highly recommend everyone to Google baby beavers.

PAZ: Yes, please. There's some good videos on YouTube, I think.

JULIAN: Yep. They're so small. This is from I Can Has Cheezburger, a site I did not realize was still on the internet.

LIZ: I don't think it can die at this point. I think it's an establishment, right?

JULIAN: Here it is. Their Facebook page is actively posting things as of 47 minutes ago.

PAZ: On Facebook?

JULIAN: There's a listicle about 18 cats demonstrating their cat logic.

LIZ: [groans]

PAZ: Tigerclaw voice.

LIZ: Tigerclaw voice, debate me.

PAZ: I'll destroy them with facts and logic.

JULIAN: Wow.

LIZ: Also sorry, on my search for can beavers kill cats, like the fourth result is just the beaver Warriors wiki page.

PAZ: What do you call a baby beaver? Kits.

LIZ: Baby.

JULIAN: Aw.

PAZ: They're kits, too.

LIZ: [laughs] Can I-- oh my god. Can I give you some suggested searches from this?

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Okay. One. "Are beavers venomous?"

PAZ: No, that's a platypus.

JULIAN: I understand the confusion, though.

PAZ: Yeah, they're a little similar.

LIZ: Two. "How to survive a beaver attack."

PAZ: Run.

JULIAN: Don't get bitten in the femoral artery and you'll be good.

LIZ: Three. "Beaver bite force PSI."

JULIAN: Now what is the beaver bite force psi? I'm very curious.

LIZ: Let me check. 180 pounds.

PAZ: Holy shit.

JULIAN: That's a lot.

PAZ: Well, I mean they have to bite hard to take down trees, I guess.

LIZ: Goddamn.

JULIAN: Yeah, damn.

LIZ: Compared to a human's 88 pounds. Good Lord.

PAZ: We don't have shit.

JULIAN: That's pretty strong on humans, too.

PAZ: Yeah, I'm not biting that hard.

JULIAN: No wonder my teeth hurt all the time.

PAZ: I don't have anything else to say about these chapters.

JULIAN: Yeah, I think we've wrapped up.

PAZ: I forgot to decide on something to talk about.

JULIAN: I mean, we did talk about beavers for quite some time.

PAZ: We did.

[meow]

JULIAN: I wonder if-- okay, I'm gonna do a quick Google to see if... beaver roleplay.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Oh my god. Beaver kids book.

JULIAN: Oh no, this is Narnia roleplay. That's not what I want. Beaver roleplay Proboards.

PAZ: Oh shit.

JULIAN: Beaver [sighs]. Yep, here we go. I found-- this is on the Disney Roleplay World.

PAZ: Disney?

LIZ: Oh?

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Beavers in Disney?

JULIAN: This is an Angry Beavers RP.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: Oh my god, that show. You don't know that show, Liz?

LIZ: No?

PAZ: I think it was a Nickelodeon cartoon. It was like the era of like, Catdog and such.

LIZ: Oh.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's a band of outcast beavers trying to take over the world, or take over the woods, sorry, not the world.

PAZ: Why not the world?

JULIAN: Holy shit, this is dark. Um, they are the young Zachs family. The head beaver, Jason, catches Treeflower. Kate, who was with her, isn't seen, but finds her mother dead after Jason kills her to send a message.

PAZ: What?

JULIAN: Is there a way to bring her back or stop Jason? Fuck!

PAZ: I hope so.

JULIAN: Oh, it's so much to read this very intensive, um, there are lions here?!

LIZ: What?

PAZ: I don't remember that.

JULIAN: This roleplay includes lions and bears. It's a lot to see this really intensive moment where this beaver is facing down lions. And she's screaming for her uncle, Daggett.

PAZ: Oh yeah, I remember. Yep, that was the name.

JULIAN: "'Mama, Daddy, Uncle Daggy-Waggy,' she screams."

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Also a lot to see, um... is this Tyler Posey? Someone's shooting a gun at me in the gif.

PAZ: What?

JULIAN: In this signature about beavers.

PAZ: What year was this happening?

JULIAN: This was posted in 2014.

PAZ: That is much more recent than I would have thought.

JULIAN: Yeah, it didn't get off the ground too far. Only about 10 posts here.

PAZ: I wonder why.

JULIAN: Oh, no, I'm sorry, there's four pages of this. I'm just kidding.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Yeah, the final post is, "'Kate, it's time for lunch,' Norb called to his daughter." So I presume they--

PAZ: They survived.

JULIAN: They dealt with the lions.

LIZ: They went to lunch.

PAZ: Man, Warrior Cats needs to step up.

LIZ: This is riveting.

JULIAN: These beavers have sofas? I never watched the cartoon.

PAZ: Oh yeah, they live in like a-- I don't remember exactly.

JULIAN: Little house?

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah, no, Kate's mom fuckin died. Rip Treeflower.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: I am kind of surprised but there hasn't been like a big sprawling story about a society of beavers.

PAZ: Yeah, they also are like communal animals. Are beavers not interesting enough? I think they're cool.

JULIAN: Wait, hold up. What was the Redwall book? Oh no, those were otters.

LIZ: An otter is just a beaver that hasn't been flattened at the back.

JULIAN: Because I was thinking of Taggerung, which in hindsight was I think a little racist. But that was about otters and not beavers.

LIZ: You know that--

JULIAN: Are beavers--

LIZ: Oh, go ahead.

JULIAN: Are they evil in Redwall?

PAZ: Are they in Redwall?

LIZ: Beavers?

JULIAN: Oh, there are no beavers.

LIZ: Well, when was Redwall written?

JULIAN: Redwall wiki. "According to Brian Jacques, beavers do not appear in subsequent Redwall novels to reflect the fact that there are no longer any native beavers in Great Britain."

LIZ: Well. Wait.

JULIAN: "The solitary beaver is the only beaver in the Redwall series and was very rarely mentioned."

PAZ: Holy shit. Who's the solitary beaver?

JULIAN: He stopped Cluny from climbing up the wall in the first battle of the Late Rose Summer Wars.

PAZ: I want to know more about this guy.

JULIAN: And he uses a crossbow. Damn.

PAZ: Wow, apparently beavers have like, mate for life.

JULIAN: Aw.

LIZ: Aw.

PAZ: Wikipedia doesn't have a fictional beavers page.

JULIAN: Why? They have a fictional badgers page.

PAZ: Maybe there just aren't many fictional beavers.

JULIAN: Oh my God. I know this is not a Redwall padcast.

LIZ: Padcast?

JULIAN: Padcast. But I have found a tidbit of Redwall lore that is blowing the series wide open. Bees can communicate in Redwall.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: What?

JULIAN: "Indicated by a statement at the end of the books where the guerrilla shrews learn to speak the bee language so they can trade and argue. This is not noted in other books."

PAZ: Holy shit.

JULIAN: That means that if bees can communicate, half of the animals eat insects. Are they eating sentient insects?

PAZ: Ahh.

LIZ: Horrible. I hate that. What if you're like, God, I don't know, like a bird or mouse or whatever, and you just like, eat a cricket, and it's just like, [tinily] nooo.

JULIAN: [very small] I have a family.

LIZ: Gruesome.

PAZ: This is a problem when you make all the animals in sentient societies.

JULIAN: Well, I feel like Redwall tried to handle it by making all the carnivores evil.

PAZ: I've never read Redwall.

JULIAN: Yeah, they make most of the carnivores, like-- which is its own problem because then it's like these species are inherently evil.

PAZ: They just did Zootopia. I mean, I guess Zootopia did Redwall, is what I should say.

LIZ: With cops? Does Redwall have cops?

JULIAN: Um...

PAZ: They have like soldiers.

JULIAN: It's sort of like a medieval situation. So they have like soldiers, and like, there might be like a sheriff or something. There's not like the police.

PAZ: There's only 21 pages in the fictional beavers category.

LIZ: That's so sad.

JULIAN: That's so sad. That feels--

PAZ: This is an undertapped market.

LIZ: They have architecture. They feel rife for like anthropomorph-- word I can't say. You know, when they become little guys with little houses?

JULIAN: Hey, children's book editors, hot new idea, fictional story about beavers, species of beavers. They're-- not species, family of beavers. Society of beavers. That's the word I was looking for.

PAZ: That should be the next Erin Hunter endeavor.

JULIAN: Right? I guess maybe the concern is, while they do have a society and they do have little hands and they do build things, they don't attack each other and kill each other?

PAZ: That's true. No, but they're very territorial. Maybe they do.

LIZ: They can attack and kill us. That's gotta be something.

JULIAN: That's true.

PAZ: They probably have fights.

LIZ: Maybe it's like the next, you know, great civilization is one of beavers and they've got to fight the humans or something.

JULIAN: There you go.

LIZ: Terrible remnants of the last one.

PAZ: Beavers inherit the earth.

JULIAN: There was a beaver dam in the creek at home, and they were-- they did a lot. They really dammed up that creek.

PAZ: Yeah, they work hard. Okay, if Erin Hunter was to make a beaver series, what would it be called? So the bears one is called Seekers. I think the canceled dog one was like...

JULIAN: No, that's the Africa one.

LIZ: Designers. Planners.

JULIAN: Architects. Builders.

LIZ: Constructors. Oh, Creators.

JULIAN: Oooh.

PAZ: Ooh.

LIZ: There's also Devisors, which sounds a little, you know.

PAZ: Oh, that sounds like they'll be like little wizards.

JULIAN: Yeah, I like Devisors.

PAZ: Devisors is real good.

JULIAN: Survivors is the dog series.

PAZ: Oh, Devisors is a little close to Survivors. But I think it's still very good.

LIZ: Artisan.

PAZ: I want little wizard beavers.

JULIAN: Right? They're so ripe to be little magic guys. Little magicians. They got their little hands.

LIZ: I feel like every other creature that's vaguely in the shape of a beaver, which is like kind of a brown egg, has gotten that treatment already. Like, you know, badgers, which they're not really brown, but they're eh. Porcupine. I feel like I've definitely seen more porcupine than beaver.

PAZ: Yeah. Why are beavers so underutilized?

LIZ: Otters. Capybaras.

JULIAN: I don't think we've done capybaras.

PAZ: Friends at the Table has done capybaras now.

LIZ: I think someone's done capybaras.

JULIAN: I mean, maybe there's a children's book.

LIZ: Moles. Voles.

JULIAN: That's just Redwall.

PAZ: Yeah, those little guys are Redwall.

LIZ: A raccoon isn't brown but it does have little hands and is about the same shape, and they've definitely done those.

PAZ: There's like Sly Cooper, yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah. Ranger Rick.

PAZ: Justice for beavers.

LIZ: Let the beaver have its moment. It's basically like a water clan, right?

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Okay, there should just be like a direct lifting of all the Warriors clans into just like beaver clan, badger clan. That's like--

PAZ: This is just Redwall. We're just reinventing Redwall with beavers.

LIZ: No, there's more than one beaver, because they've returned to England.

PAZ: You're writing Redwall fanfiction.

LIZ: I can make this an Arthurian beaver.

PAZ: Yeah, the beaver is Merlin.

JULIAN: Guinebeaver.

LIZ: Who's gonna play young hot BBC beaver Merlin?

JULIAN: Do you mean Beaverlin?

LIZ: Yes.

PAZ: You know, that might do it for us. I think we're-- [laughs].

LIZ: When we hit that 420 goal.

PAZ: Thanks everyone for listening to our podcast. You can find the show at Stairway to Star-- no, it's just, you can find the show @staircast on twitter.com. You can now support the show on Patreon at patreon.com/staircast. You can email questions or anecdotes or yell at us about talking about beavers too much, stairwaytostarclan@gmail.com. Um, next week we'll be reading chapters 11 through 14 of Forest of Secrets. I guess that's about it. So until next time, may StarClan light your path. Bye.

LIZ: Bye.

JULIAN: Bye.

[outro music]

LIZ: My God.

JULIAN: Oh.

LIZ: Hey, did you know beavertails are a kind of donut?

JULIAN: Oh, like a food?

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: I was like, I thought you were talking about like a mathematical donut for some reason.

PAZ: Wow.

LIZ: That's me. I love to talk about math.

JULIAN: Like a torus. Anyway.