#i think a lot of people have gone back to nexus though i wonder what happened

[sonoda-oomers]

i discovered stardew valley mods pretty early on playing (but i think i already finished the community center by then) and it irreversibly changed my experience and i still can't tell if it was for the worse or not. like i used the cjb item spawner to get so much gold and got endgame items with it... a few years later i would use the same cheat commands on the same save to have. less gold. to actually have to work towards goals

[marta-bee]

I've been thinking about the cleanup after Helene, and while the material needs are so very important, what I'm really grieving just now is the loss of place, and the loss of story that comes with it.

See, so much of Appalachia, at least the corner of southern Appalachia I'm familiar with, is bound up by an oral history, and it's situated in a certain place and in a nexus of particular people as your neighbors. Which isn't to say Southerners don't write, or that Appalachian Southerners in particular don't write. But somehow the story changes. There's an ineffable quality that I loved, hearing scandals and ghost stories and all sorts of local accountings shared at the church youth group camp-out or family BBQ's or over beers sitting on someone's back porch.

And now there's whole small towns, places that almost don't deserve that name, that are just gone and that probably aren't coming back, or if they are, they'll be different. It seems like such a small thing to be struck by. But it weighs heavy on my heart tonight.

So if I may offer some suggestions aside from donating to the recovery (which everyone absolutely should do if they can) : Read an Appalachian story.

The Bitter Southerner is a favorite podcast of mine, though they've not updated in years. The season two episodes "Progress, Heartbreak & Art: The TVA" and "Hillbillies Need No Elegy" seem particularly on point. And the TVA one tells the stories of some real bangers of local women. Just remembering those stories makes me smile.

I've not read it yet, but the way people talk about it in that second episode makes me think "Appalachian Reckoning: A Region Responds to Hillbilly Elegy" (ed. Edward Karschner) is also worth a read. Just on general principles with J.D. Vance in the cultural bloodstream, but perhaps now more than ever.

"Talking Appalachian: Voice, Identity and Community" (Amy Clark) was more nonfiction than story, but still really interesting.

"Ghosts and Haunts from the Appalachian Foothills: Stories and Legends" (Linda Crider) has lots of good local history and .... what do we call urban legends when there's no urban at hand? rural legends? ... Particularly fun in this our season of the spooky.

"A Place Called District 12: Appalachian Geography and Music in The Hunger Games" (Thomas Paradis) This one I haven't read yet, but judging from this interview it might be interesting for people wanting to tap into the region through more fannish lenses.

Honestly, I'm grasping a little at straws here. If anyone has anything worth reading, please let me know so I can add it to the list.

Also, at the risk of being too flippant, I'm wondering if it might be time to take a crack at reading Vulgarweed's and htebazytook's "The Bone Fiddle." Not that there's ever a bad time, I suppose.

Seriously. Seek out these stories if you can, always but especially now, and if you have any good recommendations along those lines let me know.

[carinyms]

I've scrolled through a lot of discourse on episode 4 of Loki and I need to talk about it

(good lord its a whole essay im sorry)

I gave myself a headache from crying while watching this. (I joined the Loki fandom post-IW so I’ve never had to see him die before while emotionally invested and boy!!! Is it doing things to my fragile psyche!!). But now I’m rehydrated and more stable and ready to party so let’s go

Right off the bat, I loved this episode — loved it loved it loved it. Silly, manic in-shock Loki is gone and shit is getting real. My thought while watching this was truly “wow this is my favorite episode so far” and damn am I in a minority with this opinion lol.

So here’s my perspective on some of the discourse flying around, and just general thoughts

On the whole ‘Narcissist’ thing:

IMO, Mobius saying this means nothing: he’s mad and he’s spouted lies at Loki to push his buttons before (see: every interaction they’ve had since episode 1).

Loki saying this to Sif-- well, Loki is and always has been an unreliable narrator on himself. The major theme of this show is that he doesn’t really know who he is, deep down, and he’s trying to figure it out. The TVA is taking advantage of this, and even though he’s trying to stay above it all throughout the series, he's still in a really impressionable spot and absorbing what others tell him about himself. (not to mention this scene is literal torture and he’s already proven that he’ll say whatever he needs to to get out of it.)

But he does admit one true thing when he says “It’s because I’m scared of being alone.” (And like wow okay same don’t mind my tears) but here’s a big brain idea!

Sif pulls him up and says ‘You are alone, and you always will be’, which is like, WOW that’s cruel after what he said, but it makes me ask wonder: Sif is sentient in this scene, but obviously it’s not really her. Who’s controlling her? And why is it so important for them to make sure Loki thinks he’s alone? I’d go as far as to wager that Sif never even said this to Loki, the big bad made this up. (he admits he forgot about this ever happening, I doubt he’d remember what she said.)

I think the nexus event on Lamentis that caused the branch was two Loki’s joining sides. Or, Loki no longer being alone. Loki insists while talking to Mobius that “she’s not my partner!” but she was, and they were partners from the moment they grabbed hands on Lamentis — right when the timeline broke off. I think Loki variants teaming up is the biggest threat to whoever is pulling the strings here — that’s why the post-credit scene is so significant. (Is Loki the only person who has multiple variants of himself who've escaped the TVA?)

And here’s where I’m gonna get salty--so I apologize but i need to rant about this-- but it’s seriously pissing me off that so many people are intentionally reading this as Loki/Sylvie and then being mad about it when that’s clearly not what’s happening and why is everyone acting like Mobius with one angry jealous brain cell and no critical thinking about the context of the characters.

If people ship it that’s chill, but for the people who are against it—it’s clearly supposed to be platonic, and it’s so upsetting that in the year of our lord 2021 we still can’t have a man and woman hold hands without people saying it’s proof they want to f*ck each other, like what in the misogyny??? STOP. This show was written by a bi woman and Tom the-most-emotionally-sensitive-man-on-this-planet Hiddleston — let them display an intimate loving friendship goddammit. This isn’t romance, this is Loki learning how to admit he cares for someone who cares for him in return — something he hasn’t experienced a whole lot of and clearly doesn’t know how to navigate.

(You have permission to personally come at me if it actually turns out to be romantic by the end of the show—but as of right now I will die on this hill.)

Him putting his hands on her shoulders to me was a clear indication he wanted to hug her, and I’d like to think he would have told her he cares about her, and that they can figure it out together. Because these are two characters who’ve never had anyone else to rely on and trust, and for the first time they’re not alone.

And I have to think about what prompted this from Loki. He just lost Mobius the moment after he called him friend. The way I see it, he’s just realized the true gravity of what they’re up against, and Loki is suddenly very afraid of losing Sylvie too before he tells her cares about her, of dying truly alone because he never told anyone what they meant to him. (Don’t think about this in the context of him also having watched his entire family die knowing he never told Frigga or Thor how much he loved them either don’t think about it—) He’s realized, finally, that he has doesn’t have to be alone, that he can choose to be close to people and have friends. And god it’s so heartbreaking that he never got to hug her or have that moment with her. I really hope they get that in the end. I hope he gets it with Mobius. I hope they have a group hug. I'm upset again.

Okay, deep breath, ANYWAY.

Hopefully this didn’t come off as attacking anyone else’s opinions.

Personally, I love this character so much, I’m just so happy to be seeing him in his own storyline that they can’t go wrong here. Objectively I think the production is amazing, and personally I love they way Loki’s character has been explored so far. (Yea yea, was I HOPING that the bad-memory loop would morph into Sanctuary and Thanos and like a full exploration of his true worst memories? Yes but let’s be honest my whump needs will never be met in canon and I have to accept that lol.)

Honestly I left all my own meta about this character at the door when the series started, because for me the opinions I’ve formed from the hundreds of (amazing) fics and meta I’ve read on this character and what’s true in canon are basically inseparable at this point, and no portrayal is going to live up to the way Loki exists in my head. Canon Loki and fic Loki are two different characters and I can enjoy both at the same time :) I’ve just loved seeing the character get given the different dimensions he deserves, and written by people who care about his story.

Also, it’s not over! If he was dead and this was it I’d be very upset, but this is the rock bottom of the storyline, and I think the whole next two episodes will be the build back up. I trust it’s gonna be worth it. SO hyped for flaming sword Loki. I would die for Sylvie, but I’m excited to see him on his own again.

My current most pressing questions are:

-what was the fallout of Sylvie’s bombing the timeline? (Have we seen that yet, am I just dumb and missing something?)

-Obviously, who’s behind it all? (Kang? Is there a head honcho Very Evil Loki at the top?)

-How much does Ravonna actually know, and to what extent is she just a pawn too? She asked Sylvie to prune her— she’s probably also been duped here.

-Is everything we learned about the sacred timeline BS? How much of what the TVA workers believe is real?

-my favorite theory so far is that the war of the timelines miss minutes talks about hasn’t actually happened yet, maybe making setting that into motion is the true endgame, leading into Multiverse of Madness?

(Side note: holy HELL im so excited for this soundtrack to drop on Spotify. It’s SO AMAZING I had CHILLS in the end credits.)

Open invitation to discuss anything with me if you feel inclined! :)

[manianart]

Unlikely Alliance pt2

He woke up due to light shining into the room he was in. His first reaction was to sit up fast and look around, fearing he had overslept and the light had been turned on by someone to get him. But nobody was there-

That’s strange. Why was there light if nobody had used the light switch, he didn’t have a window in his room after all.

Then it hit him, he wasn’t in his room at the facility.

This was a different room. Memories of the previous day came flooding back into his mind and he took a deep breath. Oh, right!

He changed his position, letting his legs hang over the edge of the bed, and looked around the room some more. It wasn’t a bad room. A table with two chairs, a heater, a small carpet, two doors leading to different rooms and a window. The window looked big but when he looked again Sheriff saw that it had bars in front of it. Not that he would really know where to go anyway even if he got the chance to escape. And with the chain around his ankle even the thought of fleeing felt ridiculous. 

Sheriff looked out the window for a bit. It was nice to see the sun rise again. When it went missing the first time he had felt something missing but somehow they had gotten a second chance. He didn’t know how it happened or why but he was happy for it.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the bed staring out when one of the doors suddenly opened and Hank stepped inside.

H: “...you’re awake early.” Sheriff gave an uncertain half smile at that. Sh: “Yeah...I’m used to not sleeping much.” Hank stared at him for a second or two after that. Did he say something wrong? Before he could ask any questions Hank sat down in one of the chairs at the table, motioning for him to come closer and sit as well.

Sheriff swallowed, not sure what was about to come. He quickly got up to follow the others orders, too quickly. Grabbing his middle fast as the stinging signaled the wounds on his stomach opening back up again. Looking down he saw some blood start soaking into his clothes and suddenly Hank was there, holding onto his wrists with his hands and looking at the blood.

H: “What did you do?!”

Sheriff blinked a few times, the harsh tone of the other bringing tears to his eyes.

Sh: “N-nothing! I’ve had these for a while! I think I just moved too fast.”

Hank stared into his eyes with an intensity that made Sheriffs knees feel weak. Would he believe that? It wasn’t a lie after all but what would he do if Hank didn’t believe him?

H: “How?”

Sh: “Wh-what?”

H: “How did this happen?!”

Sh: “O-oh...uhm...remember when...your friends, the rebels, stole that crate? I was tasked with keeping that… there was a locator chip in there that was...pretty important. When Phobos found out I had fucked up...this...this was part of the punishment.”

Hanks eyes showed a huge amount of disbelieve at that, giving Sheriff a few slow blinks before his hands let go of the others wrists and moved down to his shirt so fast Sheriff couldn’t even get out a word of protest. Two of the cuts had opened back up again, seeping out blood and stinging as fresh air hit them.

H: “You didn’t even bandage them!”

Sh: “They were doing okay up until right now! Something must’ve rubbed up against them to cause this…”

Hank sighed, a pang of guilt hitting him in the back of his head as he thought back to the way he carried the Sheriff. Over his shoulder with the others stomach rubbing against his shoulder pads.

H: “This will need to be cleaned and bandaged.” Sheriff felt his face heat up before swiftly covering his midst with his arms. Sh: “Didn’t you just tell me the other day that you don’t want to waste any medical supplies on me?” Anger was leaking out of that statement and Hank stopped for a second. Sheriff was looking away, not able to look at the other at the moment, until Hank started to stand up. He looked unhappy, his eyes cold and his stare and voice leaving no way for discussion as he spoke again.

H: “I said that so you wouldn’t do something stupid! THIS needs to be attended to and you WILL comply with what is about to happen, Un-der-STOOD?!”

Sheriff gave a whimpered response, nodding to show he understood.

Hank nodded as well, leaving the room after staring at the other for a few seconds longer to see if the point really was made clear.

When he was satisfied with the resulting shiver he got from the Sheriff he left and got back inside the room a few minutes later, a medi-kit in one hand and Sheriffs beloved hat in the other.

H: “Forgot to give this back yesterday. Here.” Hank swiftly placed the hat on top of Sheriffs head, covering his eyes with it by placing it wonky.

A snicker came from the taller man as Sheriff grabbed for the hat, a bit disoriented at that since he was under the impression he’d never see it again. Rearranging his hat so he could see again he sucked in some air as Hank was really close now, staring at the cuts and getting out some cotton balls, a flask with some liquid and some bandages.

The moment the flask was opened the room was filled with the strong smell of the disinfectant.

H: “Hold still and it’ll be over soon.” Sheriff nodded and bit his lower lip as a cotton ball doused in the disinfectant was pressed to one of the cuts.

The coldness of it hit him first and then the bruning started. Fucking damn this hurt.

Hank worked fast, making sure all the cuts were taken care of before taking the bandages and putting them around Sheriffs mid section. He pulled them a little too tight for Sheriffs liking but the smaller man didn’t dare say anything. Once done Hank looked at his work, making sure nothing looked out of place or bad. When he was happy with it all he packed away the left over supplies, recapping the flask and putting away the clean cotton balls before grabbing the bloodied supplies to discard of them.

H: “You can close that now. I’ll get some food.” Sheriff quickly got to buttoning up his shirt again before halting his actions.

Sh: “Wait. Food? How did you get that? I mean...if medical supplies are so low HOW do you have food?”

Hank turned around, looking at Sheriff for a second or two, probably contemplating on if he could tell the other or not, before deciding that there was no danger to it.

H: “Your organization likes to raid peoples homes, right?”

Sh: “Don’t...don’t call them my...uhm… yeah I guess.”

H: “When you guys kidnap these people your underlings always take most of the med supplies in the house or apartment they raid but they never take the food. We just have to wait a bit and then there’s basically free food just sitting around.”

Sheriff nodded, that made sense.

He felt kind of bad now, hearing how careless the foot soldiers of the Nexus were truly being.

Sh: “Oh...okay.”

With that the other man left the room, leaving the Sheriff sitting at the table to ponder what he had been told.

About 10 minutes later Hank reentered the room with a plate and a glass. Sheriff was lost in thought, looking out the window again and holding his midriff while looking like he was having a conniption.

He flinched away when Hank placed down the plate and glass, looking up fast and wondering how someone so tall and big could be this silent.

Sh: “Th-thanks.”

Hank nodded.

Looking down Sheriff saw a piece of bread with a fried egg on top and a glass of water. His stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in a while, not being able to stomach much while inside the Nexus headquarters.

He picked up the water first though, happy to have some liquid for his dry throat before turning his attention to the food. His first bite felt heavenly. The food was good.

Everything was gone in no time and Sheriff looked to his side to see Hank was watching him with a strange look on his face.

Sh: “Uhm..thank you. It was really good.”

H: “You looked like a starving dog eating that. Do they not feed you or what?”

Sheriff felt himself shrink a bit, his shoulders moving up to somewhat hide his face.

Sh: “We get food, yeah. Just...wasn’t hungry in a while so I never got any from the mess hall.”

Hanks eyes became slits at that, making Sheriff shrink in on himself even more.

H: “How long did you not eat for?”

Sheriff had to think about that for a second.

Sh: “About..two days plus yesterday..I think? I didn’t really think about it at the time. Just drank a lot of water and juice.”

Hanks eyes went wide at that.

H: “Three days?! Did nobody notice you not eating?!”

Sh: “Nobody cared.”

Hank felt himself tense, breathing out hard and giving a growl.

H: “Fucking hell those idiots are incompetent.” Sheriff felt himself smile but it was a bitter smile.

Sh: “Perfect for me then, isn’t it?”

Hank looked down at the other, self deprecating humor the last thing he thought would come from the other at a time like this. Sh: “Where do I put the plate?” H: “I’ll bring it to the kitchen.” Sh: “A kitchen?” H: “Yeah, normal apartments tend to have one of those.”

Sh: “Can I see?”

Hank looked at him for a long moment.

H:”The chain isn’t long enough.”

Sheriff sighed.

Sh: “That’s a no...fine. I get it.”

Hank sighed before grabbing the plate, leaving the glass with Sheriff. Sheriff looked back out the window, nothing else to do really getting lost in his own thoughts again but right as he was slowly turning off the world around him Hank suddenly put a hand on his shoulder.

Sh: “Wuah!”

H: “Calm down, it’s just me. I’ll need to get in contact with the others now so I brought you a book and something to write with. Just be quiet and don’t disturb me for the next few hours, okay? The chain is long enough to go to the bathroom or the hallway and the hallway closet if you need anything to clean if you want to. We haven’t used this hide out in a while so you might need that. Just be quiet, okay?” Sh: “Y-yeah, sure.” Sheriff held his chest as his heart was racing. Hank really did surprise him.

He felt the taller man hold onto his shoulder a little longer before leaving the room again, leaving him with the book and some paper and pens.

The call to his comrades took about 3 hours, explaining what happened, his situation now and what he had done or more specific, who he had taken along and why. 2B was skeptical and so was Sanford, with Deimos alone giving the benefit of the doubt. They couldn’t get to Hank any time soon sadly. He was rather far from their normal headquarters, too far into the city for them to not be noticed. Hank nodded, understanding their stance and started to make more plans with them.

Once everything was said and done he decided to go take a shower. Feeling refreshed after that he looked over to the door that lead to the room Sheriff was in. He had kept quiet alright. Maybe Hank should check up on the man.

Walking over he knocked on the door, halfway out of reflex after hearing 2Bs voice and halfway because he didn’t want to catch Sheriff off guard again. The man looked so pitiful when he got startled and it messed with Hanks head.

Hearing no answer from the other Hank opened the door to look inside the room. He found Sheriff sleeping at the table, his body hunched over some drawings and his hand still somewhat holding onto the pen he had been using. Hank felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, being reminded of 2B or Deimos when they’d make plans for the team.

His curiosity somewhat peaked at what the other was drawing. Slowly walking up to the table and peeking over the others shoulder he saw a picture of the room Sheriff was staying in. It looked...good. Real good actually. Hank grabbed at the paper, waking Sheriff in the process.

Sh: “Hmh? Is your meeting already over?”

H: “Yah...you draw this?” Sh: “Yeah, already finished the book so I thought that that could keep me busy.”

Hanks eyes went wide at that.

H: “You already finished the book?”

Sh: “Yeah, I always was a fast reader. It’s one of the reasons I moved up the ranks so fast. I could remember about anything you gave me to read so the work I did was almost always good if it was just paperwork.”

H: “Huh. That...weirdly makes sense.”

Sheriff gave a half smile at that before turning to the table again, grabbing his glass to drink but finding it empty. Hank saw it and silently took it from him, going away and returning with a full glass and a plastic bottle with water in it.

H: “Here you go. This should make it easier.”

Sheriff looked up, his expression unreadable to Hank.

Sh: “Thank you. ....what is going to happen to me now?”

H: “Well, 2B wanted me to kill you right away before you cause trouble-”

Sheriff flinched at that. His heart beginning to pick up it’s pace he swallowed hard.

H: “But Deimos and Sanford mentioned that you could maybe help us out with some things so 2B let it slide and just told me to keep an eye on you.”

Sheriff sighed, releasing the breath he had been holding.

Sh: “Yeah sure, I can try.”

Hank gave him a funny look now.

H: “Just like that? I don’t even have to torture you?”

Sh: “Please no. I mean...what else can I even do? If I try to do something stupid you kill me. If I were to escape, Phobos will probably get me and then...I don’t really want to think about that possibility to be honest. And if I were to set you up you either die and I slowly starve to death or you get hurt and come back and kill me then. So...my best option...my only option really, is to help you guys to end this whole mess.”

Hank listened to the other man, noting how broken he truly sounded. Once the other stopped talking Hank thought about what he said. It was true, the best thing to do would be to help out and end this chaos. Still, Hank didn’t fully trust the man in front of him yet. He’d start asking questions he already knew the answers to for now before relying on the info he got.

“Okay, then lets talk a bit.”, Hank said, grabbing the other chair provided and sitting down opposite of the other.

For the next half hour they talked, Hank asking questions about menial stuff he knew already and Sheriff answering everything truthfully up until one question.

H: “What circuit do I need to short to get the east door to building deta to open?”

Sh: “...upper left in the control panel.”

Hanks eyes lit up for a second, knowing that the right answer would be the lower left panel.

H: “Wrong! That was a test.”

Sheriff looked at him confused for a second before he flinched back and brought his hands up to shield himself from Hank as he stood up slowly.

Sh: “NO WAIT! The plans for that building were updated after one of the techs found traces of a hacker in our system viewing the plans to the building! I told you the truth I SWEAR!”

Hank halted in his movement, cocking his head to one side.

H: “What?”

Sh: “We recently updated some of our plans as well as some codes and passwords after a hacker attack was detected. That was about 2 weeks ago. I got the new plans memorized the moment they were given to me. Please. What would I get out of lying to you?!”

Hank thought back to the time he watched 2B hack into one of the systems of a branch of the Nexus organizations. How long had it been since then?

Right, two weeks. Looking up at the others' face he looked for traces of guilt or manipulation but all he found was fear and uncertainty.

H: “What else was changed?!” Sh: “U-uhm...17 different passcodes, 3 door panels, 9 groupings of guards were updated on their weapons and the main door to Phobos quarters was reinforced so it could withstand weapons up to the strength of a grenade...w-why? Do you...believe me?”

Hank ran a hand over his face and head.

H: “Not sure yet, but if what you are saying is true it complicates things.” Sheriff looked down, looking somewhat defeated now.

Sh: “Oh..okay.”

H: “I’ll have to talk to the others again. Don’t try anything while I’m gone. We’ll talk again later.”

With that Hank walked out of the room leaving behind a scared and uncertain Sheriff.

Sheriff wanted to say something, to try and get Hank to believe him, but he knew better than to try, so all he did was look after the other with a dejected look on his face, a single “okay” leaving his mouth before the door to the room he was in was shut and he was alone once more.

[fangirlinsweden]

Nexus Part 3

Part 3:   Vigilantes and History

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Secrets, talk about death and loss (think that is all)

Word Count:  About 2500 words

Summary:  Y/N is a pain in the ass according to Steve. She is brought on to missions sometimes by Fury when they need help, but she is wild and does not listen to orders. She does what she wants. Now Fury has given her a place in the Avengers. And Steve is not liking it. Having to deal with her every day. He hates her. Or does he? And what is Y/N relationship with Bucky? They seem to get closer and closer.

A/N: This takes place after Avengers: Endgame, but Steve never left. Tony and Nat are still alive.

This is written for Gab’s @buckysmischief Birthday Challenge. My prompt is: “Did you bring us here to die?” “Obviously.” “I really can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

Daredevil steps out of the shadows. “You are friends with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” Steve brows knitted together.  “Well, yeah,” You shrugged and walked over to Matt. “Hey Red. I brought company because my Captain does not trust me.” You tossed your hair in Steve’s direction and then you and Matt hugged. In the hug you whispered something in his ear. Matt looked over at the two men and smiled.  “The two of you do not need any introduction,” Matt looked at Steve and Bucky.  “Neither do you,” Steve states and crosses his arms. Matt looks over at you and you shrug.  “Steve and Bucky, this is my good friend Red,” you say anyway. They say hello to each other.  “So Y/N, why did you want this meeting? Seeing as it’s not to catch up,” Matt asks looking at you.  “There is some talk about Hydra setting up a secret base in New York,” you explain. “I was wondering if you had heard or seen anything?”  “I have not heard about anything strange,” Matt answers and you nod.  “Have you seen anything strange then?” Steve asked and Mat and you started to laugh. Steve’s eyebrows pulled together and he went more rigid in his body. He had no idea that Matt was blind. “No,” Matt gets out. “I have not seen anything strange. But I can check with the others.”  “Yes, please,” You smile at him. “I am reachable on my phone.” “Who are the others?” Steve wondered walking a bit closer to Matt and you.  “Other friends around the city,” you lift a shoulder.  “You mean other vigilantes,” Steve grumbles. Bucky smirks and shakes his head slightly.  “Well, yes,” You smile.  “Who do you know?” Bucky lifts his brows. “It’s more a thing of who don’t I know,” You wink at Bucky. Matt's eyes sparkle as he looks at your face.  “Do you know Deadpool?” Bucky leans closer to you.  “Of course I know Merc with a Mouth,” You giggle. “We have done some missions together.”  “Does that mean you know the X-Men as well?” Bucky had trouble standing still now. “Yeah,” you look at your nails.  “She knows every hero in at least a 1000 miles radius,” Matt nods at your direction. “And she is one of the reasons that we got the Kingpin of the streets.” “Now I am working on closing down Hydra for good,” You try to keep your face neutral, but Steve’s eyes are on you and they narrow. You fake kick someone's ass in the air. Matt shakes his head and Bucky chuckles. Steve looks serious. “Hydra is not something to play with. I think maybe you are in over your head here, Y/N” Steve urge her and this time Bucky shakes his head more.  “Don’t underestimate her,” Matt warns Steve.  “No, please do, that would be fun,” You tilt your head and observe Steve. He opens his mouth and then closes it again.  “Brainwashed Soldier, what do you think?” you look at Bucky and he smiles at you. “I am sure you can take care of yourself,” Bucky smirks. “I mean you are a grown woman that is trained by some of the best spies in the world.” Steve glares at Bucky, who only smiles at his friend and shrugs. Matt laughs then he stops quickly. “I need to go Y/N,” he says and tilts his head slightly to the left. “I will keep in touch.” And with that he disappears into the shadows.  “I like your friend,” Bucky says and puts his left arm over your shoulder. You start walking back to the car. Steve quietly walked behind the two of you. It was obvious that Steve wanted to say something, but he did not. Maybe he wanted to talk to Bucky alone? 

On the drive back from the meeting Steve was quiet, but you did not care. Bucky entertained you with stories about the two of them growing up in Brooklyn. “Do you miss it?” you asked Bucky when he was quiet for a while. “Yes and no,” Bucky answers. “I miss my family, but I am not the same man. And modern times have a lot of advantages.” “Have you tried looking for family members that might be alive?” you keep your eyes on the road, even though you wanted to see Bucky’s face. He sighs. “No,” Bucky looks to the side window.  “Why not?” You ask and Steve clears his throat. “I think we should talk about something else,” Steve says with a firm voice. Bucky does not say another word. He just looks out the side window. “What do you want to talk about Captain?” you wonder and look in the rear-view mirror and meet Steve’s angry eyes. “Have you looked into if you have any family members left?” “No,” Steve looks away, then back. “I only looked Peggy up.” “Peggy, the love of your life?” you wonder what he would admit to. “I don't think you can call her the love of my life,” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “Specially not when he had a short relationship with Sharon, her niece,” Bucky grumbles and Steve looks even more pissed and a bit red in the face.  “That almost sounds like incest,” you shudder. Bucky just chuckles and Steve presses his lips to a line. “I figure you want to change the subject again,” you muse and look at Bucky. He was looking out the window again. “What do you want to talk about instead?” “I don’t know,” Steve huffs. “Maybe how you can know so many vigilantes?” “That is a great question,” Bucky agrees, but he still looks to be somewhere else in his mind. “It’s kind of complicated,” You sigh. “That sounds like an excuse not to talk about it,” Steve says leaning forward slightly in his seat. “No, it’s not. It is complicated,” you counter getting a bit pissed at Steve. “But I can give you the  cliff notes of the whole story. I grew up in a loving family as the only child.” “Spoiled,” Steve muttered but you ignored him. “My parents both were in the army, so we moved all over the US,” you continue while keeping your eyes ahead. “When both my parents were away on assignment I would stay in Brooklyn with my grandparents. Then my mother was killed while on a mission when I was 14 years old.” You could hear a small gasp from Bucky. “My father was devastated and was honorably discharged from the army to raise me. We moved to Brooklyn and I got to have a normal childhood for a while. Or if you can call it childhood when you are in your teens. My father started working security for some company here in New York. Sometimes I stayed with my grandparents when he was away on missions.” Steve is almost leaning in between the two seats in the front. You turn left and can see the compound in the distance. “When I was 17 he was killed in New York, while on his way back from an assignment. I moved in with my grandparents. I had my suspicions that my father's death was a hit so I started investigating.” The guard by the gates opened them so you could drive through. “While doing my investigations my grandfather died. I got more out of control dealing with not only one loss but two. My grandmother did the best she could, but I kind of went off the rails. I met Red one night I was out looking for information about my father's death. He helped me and through him I met other people that have become my friends. Then when I became 19 Coulson came across me on a mission and he recruited me to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Fury had already had his eyes on me so he was fine with it. I was also the official liaison between S.H.I.E.L.D and other heroes that worked alone.” With that you parked the car and got out of it. Steve and Bucky were still sitting in the car. Then they notice that you had parked and got out quick. “That was the cliff notes,” you started to walk away “Did you ever find out what happened with your father?” Bucky asked when he came up next to you. “Yeah,” you answered and did a small shudder. Bucky draped his arm over your shoulders. “But that's a story for another day.” You gave him a small smile.  “Why not now?” Steve wondered. “Why should I share all of my life’s story and greatest tragedies with you when you won’t talk about anything real about your life with me?” you snapped. You were exhausted after telling the story and just wanted to go to bed. It still hurt to talk about your parents. The grief had never gone away, but it had gotten easier with time and it was a kind of feeling you did not mind carrying. You hurried your steps and left the two of them standing behind. All you wanted was to be alone.

Steve looked after Y/N. She had been honest and open with them. He knew there was so much more to her story then what she had told them, but the pain in her face had been raw.  Bucky started to go after her, but Steve catches his arm. “Let her be for now,” Steve got out. Bucky looked after Y/N disappearing form and back at his friend.  “She is hurting,” Bucky mumbled. “I've never seen that before.” “Neither have I,” Steve admitted.  “She is right,” Bucky looked at Steve. “We never told her anything real and she was honest.” “I have a feeling she let some things out of her story,” Steve drags a hand through his hair.  “She said she was giving us the cliff notes,” Bucky started to walk in the direction of his room. “That means that she would not give all the information.” Steve walked beside him and nodded.

The next morning you feel a bit weird when you walk over to Bucky’s room. The way you had parted with Bucky and Steve the night before was kind of embarrassing. Running away like a mad child, but you had done it and there was no taking back. You knock on Bucky’s door. Bucky opens the door standing there in only a pair of grey sweatpants and you smiled at him.  “Good morning, Brainwashed Cyborg,” you wink at him and he chuckles. It was nice to hear it and you relax some.  “Good morning, Doll,” Bucky smiled at you. It spread warmth through your body.  “Want to train together?” You tilted your head to the side biting your lip slightly.  “Yes,” Bucky nodded. “Give me ten minutes.” You nodded. “See you in the gym in ten minutes,” You smirked. “And be ready for some ass kicking.”Bucky just laughed and closed the door. You started to walk towards the gym, when you heard someone come up behind you fast. Steve pushed you up against a wall hard.  “Getting rough with me, Captain. I like it,” you said and smirked. You leaned closer to his ear. “Just so you know my safe-word is Vanilla.”  “You really should not talk to Bucky like that,” Steve almost growled at you.  “Like what?” you ask with a sweet voice.  “Like.. like.. He’s anybody else,” Steve gets out. You roll your eyes. “And you make fun of his arms and his past.”  “Do you really think walking on eggshells around Bucky will help him feel like anything other than a monster?” You tilt your head to the side.  “Ah…” Steve’s brows slip up. “I just don’t think what you are doing is right.” “As long as Bucky doesn't tell me to stop,” you leaned in closer so you could feel his breath on your lips. “Then I don’t give a shit what you say.” You slink under Steve’s arms and walk away. 

While Steve stood there watching Y/N walk away Bucky opened his door and leaned against the doorway. The smirk on Bucky’s face made it clear that he had heard every word. “Don’t say a word,” Steve grumbled and stalked away. All Steve could think about was that he had almost kissed her. He wanted to kiss her. Why? “I don’t think I needed to say a word,” Bucky yelled after Steve and then shocked his head. Bucky did not mind the way Y/N talked and teased him. It made him feel like he was like everyone else. Or at least as close that he could come. She did not treat him with kid gloves. And they always had fun together. She had a way to get him to laugh more than he has done since the 40’s. He went back into his room to get ready to go to the gym. He also liked how she could handle herself sparring with him. In fact she got more shots in on him than Nat ever did when he sparred with her. So when she said that she would kick his ass, he knew that she was not lying. She would be close to doing that. He laughed and left his room. Ready to meet Y/N. 

You sat in the bed in your room a few days later and knew it was time to tell him. No, them. You needed to tell them. You could not keep this secret anymore and you did not want to. Your wood box stood open and the content layed on your bed before you. Pictures from your childhood laid in a pill with a pink ribbon around it. Then there were a whole lot of old pictures that lay spread before you. Pictures your grandmother had saved. Pictures Peggy and Howard had given her. Pictures of the past. There were also letters tied together with an old blue ribbon to your left. A notebook full of sketches laid beside it. Two tickets to the Stark Expo back 1943. A pair of old dog tags. You lifted one of the pictures and looked down on the younger faces of Steve and Bucky together. Another picture was of Steve and his parents. As well as a picture of Bucky and his mother.  You wanted them to know. Know your secret. A secret you've been keeping forever. You would start by telling one person first. Even if it was scary to tell him and to see his reaction, it was time. Maybe he would be mad. Maybe he would want nothing to do with you. Maybe he would be happy. Maybe.. There were a lot of maybe's. You left your room and went to the gym. It was empty. You went to the kitchen next. Clint sat at the counter with a big coffee cup in front of him, but other than that it was empty. You walk to Steve’s office, but surprisingly it’s empty. On a hunch you walk to the library and that is where you find him. Sitting in one of the big chairs reading a book. You walk in and he looks up at you. “Can we talk?” You asked fiddling with your fingers and having a hard time looking him in the eyes. 

~*~* ~*~* ~*~* ~*~* ~*~* ~*~* ~*~ *~* ~*~* ~*~* ~*~* ~*~* ~*~

Everything Taglist:

@buckysmischief

@allaboutthebooz

Nexus Series taglist:

@dee-vn​

@readermia​

@mylifeiscrazy0423

@owhatshername-blog​

@taketimeandappreciate

[thatonerandomfan4]

Rockwell’s History [READ WARNINGS]

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Fandom: Madness Combat

Characters: Dr. Crackpot, Dr. Hofnarr, Dr. Jebediah Christoff, Phobos, Hank, Sanford, Deimos, 2BDamned, Jebus, Tricky, Rockwell (My OC), Rockwell’s Parents

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Death, Gore, Attacking, Detailed Gore Scenes, Cursing, Transphobia, Crying, Injuries, Very Sensitive Topics, Angst, Heavy Angst, Long Story

Summary: Talking About Rockwell’s Backstory And How He Became Part Of The Madcom Group.

Word Count: 2,681

Notes: Rockwell Is Trans. His Original Name Was Roxannie (Pronounced As Roxanne) Roxannie Will Be In The First Half Of The Fic Until She Makes The Transition.

If You Feel Very Uncomfortable/Dislike The Topics That Are Going To Be In This Fic, Please Leave The Fic Now So You Don’t Have To Experience It And Triggers You. 

Also, If You Dislike Fics That Involves Peoples Made Up Characters (OCs), Then You Are Welcome To Leave The Fic. 

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Roxannie Woke Up To Her Alarm Clock And Quickly Got Dressed, Heading Downstairs To Get Breakfast. Her Mother Greeted Her With A “Good Morning” And A Warm Smile. Roxannie Sat At The Table, Greeting Her Father. She Took One Bite Of Her Cereal Until The Table Was Knocked Over. With A Frightened Look, She Looked At Her Father And Screamed. His Head Was Chopped Clean Off With His Chest Wide Open, Revealing That His Internal Organs Were Tampered With. She Was About To Cry Until She Heard Her Mother Scream. 

Instead Of Staying At The Table, She Ran To The Room Her Mother Was In. As Soon As Roxannie Stepped Foot In The Living Room, She Was Met With A Horrifying Sight.Her Mother Was Brutally Cut In Half With Her Face Missing From Her Head. The Top Half Of Her Body Hung From The Ceiling By A Sword Which Impaled Her. The Bottom Half Of Her Body Was On The Floor, In A Pile With Her Internal Organs. Annie Almost Gagged At The Sight, Until She Saw The Man Who Had Caused Her Parent’s Deaths. A Tall Dark Figure With Red Eyes Approached Her With A Hammer. It Grabbed Her Firmly By The Neck And Bashed Her Head Twice, Revealing Her Brain. 

It Left Her On The Ground Struggling To Stay Alive, Leaving Only A Tablet Behind. Rox Used It To Contact For Help, But Could Barely Stay Conscious Due To Her Brain Being Exposed. Luckily, There Was A Fast Response. The Mysterious Person Was Immediately Able To Track Her Location And Tell Her To Stay Where She Is. She Agreed And Just Laid In Front Of The Tablet, Trying Not To Lose Consciousness. About 45 Minutes Had Passed So Far, And She Was Starting To Feel Her Eyelids Get Heavy.

A Man Rushed In And Immediately Injected Her With Some Type Of Medicine. She Immediately Struggled To Stand Up, Before Being Forced To Sit Down. Her Head Was Bandaged Properly Before She Was Helped Up. She Didn’t Even Get A Chance To Thank The Strange Man Because He Immediately Rushed Her Out Of The House And Into His Vehicle. The Whole Car Ride Was Quiet Except For Roxannie’s Cries, Mourning The Death Of Her Parents. 

She Couldn’t Even Form Sentences Or Explain To The Man That Saved Her What Happened Because Of How Upset She Was. He Felt Bad For Her, Trying To Give Her Anything She Could Keep Her Mind Busy With Until They Got To The Place. She Didn’t Really Want Anything Though, Other Than To Let Out What She Was Experiencing Now. Once They Arrived To Their Destination, She Was Immediately Brought Into A Lab Where A Bunch Of Scientists Were Working. The Man Led Her Into A Room Where A Small Chubby Man Chatted With A Tall, Stern Looking Guy.

Dr. ??: “Hofnarr, Christoff. I Uh….Got The Child.”

The Two Men Looked Over And Immediately Rushed To Roxannie. They Hugged Her And Did Their Best To Comfort Her In Any Way Possible In That Moment.

Dr. Christoff: “Thank You, Crackpot. We’ll Let You Know If We Need Anything Else.”

Crackpot Nodded And Left The Room, Leaving The 3 Alone As Christoff Shut The Door. Hofnarr Tried To Calm Her Down And Talk With Her. It Was Very Hard To Understand The Girl Through Her Crying And Incoherent Words, Even For Him. Hofnarr Just Held Her Close And Consulted Her, Doing His Best To Calm Her Down. Christoff Sat Down Next To The Two And Offered Rox With A Glass Of Water. She Took The Water And Drank Half Of The Glass, Keeping The Drink In Her Hand While The Two Older Men Did Their Best To Help Her Relax.

Once She Was Calm Enough, They Finally Got Her To Explain What Had Happened. She Told Them Every Detail From This Morning, Keeping It Short And Sweet At The End. Hofnarr And Christoff Frowned, Hugging And Comforting Her Again. It Was Very Hard For Someone To Go Through All That Trauma, Especially For Someone At Her Age. Hell, The Kid Was Only 14. She Barely Knew How To Even React Or See Something Like That. She Needed A Lot Of Therapy To Get Past That Traumatic Event.

Hofnarr: “Hey Christoff. Do You Think Phobos Will Let Us Keep Her Here With Us?”

Christoff: “Maybe, With A Lot Of Bribing.”

Roxannie: “F-Forgive Me For I-Interrputing Your C-Conversation...But Wh-Who’s Ph-Phobos?”

Hofnarr: “Oh! Don’t Worry, You Aren’t Interrupting Anything. And Phobos Is Our Boss. We Need All Permission From Him To Do Anything Around Here.”

Christoff: “Kinda Sucky, But We’re Even Lucky If He’s In A Good Enough Mood To Pay Us.”

They Chat For A Bit Before Heading To Phobos’ Office, Staying Together The Whole Trip. Once They Reached Their Destination, They All Greeted Phobos Before Saying Anything About Roxannie. Phobos Obviously Had To Ask First And The Two Scientists Explained The Whole Situation. Phobos Took A Minute To Think Before Accepting Their Request To Allow Her To Stay. Ending It With “I Don’t Care How, But As Long As She’s Not A Big Distraction To You Two And Works With What She Can.” Of Course They All Had To Agree To That.

They All Headed Out The Door And Back To The Breakroom. Hofnarr Figured She Was Still Hungry And Offered To Make Her A Snack And A Drink. Christoff Just Offered Her To Stay With Them So She Has A Place To Sleep And Stay Instead Of The Lab. Rox Agreed To Both And Walked With The Two Men. On The Way Back To The Lab, Hofnarr Was Smiling, Gently Gripping Onto Rox’s Hand. Christoff Took Notice Of This And Chuckled. He Watched His Husband For A While. It Was Only Now When He Asked About His Sudden Cheery Mood.

Christoff: “What’s Got You All Giddy, Hoffy?”

Hofnarr: “We Have A Child Of Our Own Christoff! Aren’t You Excited To Be A Parent?”

Christoff Just Smiled As Hofnarr Went On About The Wonders Of Raising A Child Of Their Own. He Goes On Fantasies About Vacation, Family Outings, Family Dinners And Other Things. Roxannie Gripped Her New Parent’s Hands Gently, Smiling Softly. She Was Going To Start A New Family And These Were Her New Parents. She Didn’t Mind That, She Loved Supporting People Who Were In Relationships With The Same Gender.

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A Few Years Later…

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Hofnarr: “Rox, You Ready?”

Roxannie: “Yeah I’m Coming!”

She Placed Her Bandana On And Adjusted It To Be Over Her Bandages, Flattening Out Her Lab Coat. She Turned The Light Off In The Bathroom And Headed Downstairs To The Door, Greeting Her Two Dads As They Hugged Her. They Headed Towards The Lab While Hofnarr Was Going On About How Lucky They Were To Be A Family. Christoff Occasionally Threw In A Few Things, Chuckling At Hofnarr’s Responses.

Once They Got To The Labs, Everything Seemed Normal Except For A Few Stressed Out Scientists. The Shaking Scientists Greeted The 3 And Gave Them Information To Keep Safe. Hofnarr Took Roxannie With Him As He Usually Does For The Morning. Christoff Set Out To His Office, Looking Around At The Messed Up Experiments. He Scoffed At The Thought Of Phobos Actually Trying To Be Successful With This….Project. Christoff And Hofnarr Agreed That This Whole “Project Nexus” Thingy Would Not Be On For Long. Someone Would Definitely Stop Him, Even If It Had To Be One Of Them. 

Not Even A Minute Later, Hofnarr Had A Worried Look On His Face As The Sound Of Gunshots Could Be Heard From The Other Lab. Rox Stayed Close To Hofnarr Just In Case Anything Happened. They Kept Hearing Gunshots From The Other Lab, Not Knowing What On Earth Was Going Down. Hofnarr Was Upset, What Was Happening To His Husband? Was He Ok? Was He Hurt? He Held Onto Rox As He Tried Not To Cry About The Thoughts That Were Running Through His Mind.

Hofnarr: “I Hope Christoff Is Ok. I Don’t Want To Lose Him Like We Almost Lost You.”

Roxannie: “I-I’m Sure He’ll Be Ok, Dad. And Hey, If I’m Still Here, He’ll Still Be Here.” *She Hugged Him Close. Hofnarr Gave Her A Soft Yet Sad Smile.*

Hofnarr: “I Sure Hope So.”

They Waited About 30 Minutes To Half An Hour Until Someone Entered The Room. As The Two Turned Around, Hofnarr Rushed To Hug The Man. It Was Christoff, And Thankfully He Wasn’t Injured That Badly As He Though. Christoff Went Over To Rox And Hugged Her, Handing Her A Gun As He Also Gave Hofnarr A Gun. He Wanted To Keep His Family Safe While This Whole Messed Up Thing Was Happening.

Hofnarr: “You’ve Made Quite A Mess Christoff.”

Christoff: “They’ve Gone Too Far. If We Don’t Stop This Now...”

A Few Agents Entered The Room, And Christoff Killed Them With The Help Of His Husband And Daughter. Hofnarr Sweated And Gulped, Keeping Roxannie Close To Him.

Hofnarr: “I See We Have No Other Choice…”

They Murdered The Agents Who Kept Coming And Headed Out. Hofnarr Unlocked All The Control Panels As The Continued Through The Lab, Killing Any Agents, Zombies Or Any Failed Experiments. It Took A While Until They Got The Whole Place Cleared But They Were Able To Do It Without Much Harm Going To Them. They Got To The Last Room With The Control Panel And Hofnarr Started Getting Worried. He Looked At Christoff While They Got Rid Of The Last Few Agents With Rox Guarding The Door.

Hofnarr: “Ya Know Phobos Will Finish Us For This.”

Christoff Looked At Hofnarr After Shooting The Last Agent, Ending The Life Of The Betrayer.

Christoff: “Phobos Better Watch His Back..”

Hofnarr Unlocked The Last Control Panel And Looked Around The Room. He Started Heading Out After Christoff And Roxannie, Staying Close To Them While They Walked. Eventually Hofnarr Took The Lead Of The Group To Make Sure That The Other Two Were Safe. He Opened The Door Outside For Them Both, And Closed It After They Were Far Ahead Of Hofnarr. He Followed Them And Took The Lead After A Few Minutes. He Then Looked At Christoff As They Approached Phobos’ Tower.

Hofnarr: “Everything Depends On You Now.” *He Used His Key Card To Unlock The Door And Let Christoff In, Keeping Roxannie Back* “Good Luck, Old Friend..”

They Watched Christoff Walk Into The Tower, And Headed Back To The Lab. Hofnarr Kept His Daughter Close To Him, Trying To Keep Her From Breaking Down Like How She Was When They First Met. They Knew Christoff Was Only Doing This For Their Own Good, And To Stop This Whole Thing From Ruining Nevada Even More. They Walked Into The Lab And Immediately Went To The Breakroom, Setting Their Weapons Down By The Table When They Got There.

They Got Some Food And Drinks While They Chatted, Sitting Down So They Wouldn’t Fall If One Was Upset Or Panicked. They Chatted About Christoff And How….Cold He Looked When He Walked Into Hofnarr’s Lab. Rox Was Scared By His Look, As It Was Her First Time Seeing Him Like That. Hofnarr Had Already Known This Look So He Was Pretty Used To It. 

They Kept The Conversation Going By Talking About Other Stuff Like Work, Family Life, Dinners, And Especially That One Dinner Night. That Was The First Time Rox Had Seen Hofnarr Angry, And Not A Playful Or Slightly Irritated Angry. It Wasn’t His Fault They Were Banned From That Restaurant Though. The Boy Walked Up To Rox And Went “Tsk. You Wanna Be Trans? That’s Gross. You’re A Girl And You Will Always Be A Girl.” Hofnarr Was Just Defending His Daughter...By Attacking The Boy With A Chair.

They Were At The Lab For About An Hour To An Hour And A Half Just Chatting And Wandering Around. After A Bit, They Headed Outside And Met Up With Christoff Again.The Only Difference About Him Was That He Was Wearing The Key Fragment On His Head. Jeb Greeted The Two And Lead Them Back Inside The Lab. This Was Going To Be A Strange Experience For All Of Them.

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A Few More Long Years Later…

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Sanford And Deimos Turn The Corner, Shooting The Agents That Tried Approaching Them. The Two Headed Into The Room And Killed All The Agents In Sight. Then They Saw Her….Roxannie On The Floor Unconscious. They Both Inspected Her Body And Picked Her Up, Keeping Her With Them. They Finished With Their Mission And Brought Her Back To Base. The Brought Her To Hank And 2B Where They Inspected Her Body. 

After She Woke Up, She Made A Request To The Doctor. She Wanted To Be A Man. The Doctor Hesitated Before Agreeing, Putting Her Under Anesthesia. He Waited A Few Minutes Before Finally Getting To Work. He Wrapped Him Up And Successfully Did Both Top And Bottom Surgery. Doc Finished With Replacing The Bandage On His Head, Cleaning The Wound Before Putting Anything On There. 

After That, Doc Gave Rockwell Medicine To Help With The Pain. He Helped Rocky Walk And Get Used To Using The Bathroom. After That, Doc Gave Rockwell Some Clothes To Wear: A White Shirt With Ripped Sleeves, A Black Vest. A Belt To Go Over His Chest, Black Pants And Another Belt To Keep Them Up, Black Boots, Goggles With One Side Red And The Other Black And A Gas Mask. He Also Put His Hair Into A PonyTail.

Rockwell Put Everything On And Headed Outside, Ordered By Hank, To Fight The Clown. Rocky Took A Look At The Clown And…….Wait….That Lab Coat Looks So Familiar…..Was It..No It Couldn’t Be….HOFNARR?! But..He Looked Way Different Than Before.

Tricky: “WHO ARE YOU?! NEVERMIND THAT- CLOWN KILLS YOU!!”

Rockwell: “No Wait-!”

Tricky Whacked Rocky Pretty Hard In The Face, His Gas Mask Had To Be Removed. After Rockwell Removed His Goggles, Tricky Gasped And Dropped His Stop Sign..He Looked Like He Wanted To Cry.

Tricky: “Ro-Roxannie…?”

Rockwell, Holding His Jaw In Place: “It’th Rockwell Now, D-Dad.”

Tricky Immediately Hugged His Child, Healing His Jaw And Forming A Metal Plate Over The Injury. Rockwell Hugged Tricky Back, Both Squeezing The Shit Out Of Each Other. Tricky Kept His Son Close, Until They Heard Footsteps Approach From Behind Rockwell. It Was Jeb….Well...Christoff But He Didn’t Look That Different. 

Jebus: “Tricky, What Are You Doing?! He’s On Hank’s Side!” *He Took Out His Binary Sword, And Swung It Up*

Tricky Backed Away And Ran To Jeb, Trying To Stop Him.

Tricky: “JEB NO HURT HIM!! GUY IS-”

It Was Too Late. Jeb Swung And Cut Rockwell Almost In Half.

Tricky: “Roxannie-”

Jeb Looked Frightened. Oh God, What Had He Done? He Removed His Sword And Watched Rockwell’s Limp Body Fall To The Ground. The Savior Broke Out In Tears. He Just Murdered His Own Child, Or He Thought He Did. He Was Relieved When He Heard Rockwell. He Was Still Alive! How? That Didn’t Matter, He Was Just Happy His Son Was Alive Still.

Jeb Rushed Over To Rockwell And Healed Him, Summoning Bandages And Wrapping Him Up. He Was Still Crying From What He Had Done. Tricky Joined Them Both, Starting A Group Hug With All Of Them As They Reunited. Sanford, Deimos, Hank And 2B Rushed Out As Tricky Helped Rockwell Up And Jeb Healed Him Again.

Sanford: “Oh Cool, So I Guess We Can Call A Truce.”

Deimos And 2B Agreed, Hank Didn’t. Wimbleton Didn’t Like The Idea Of Living With His Enemies, Especially If They Act Nice And Turn On Them In The End. Hank Disagreed And Left To Blow Off Some Steam, It Was Gonna Take A Long While To Convince Him. Sanford And Deimos Ended Up Adopting Rockwell While Tricky And Jeb Readopted Him. Rockwell Now Lives With The Crew, With Having 4 Parents Who Support And Care About Him, 2B Who Takes Care Of His Wounds And Trans Stuff, And Hank...

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Impressions from TTM

Spoilers, spoilers everywhere. Just a big bulleted list of thoughts as I read through the graphic novel. Not a lot of detail included, so it’ll make a lot more sense if you’ve already read it yourself!

looks like Moonshadow elves cross the arms of the dead... when they have a body to bury

it’s nice to see that Rayla imagines Runaan with all his shirts, the way she last saw him

kinda looks like Rayla changed into her jammies right on her bed and dumped her clothes on that little table. maybe she’s afraid of letting the few things she actually possesses out of her sight

listen we get one little panel of Opeli in here and it’s great

Soren’s cape smacking Callum in the face, 10/10

Lujanne’s appearance out of nowhere, along with Allen’s is just adorable, she’s so sparkly. And also she can apparently just turn totally invisible with an illusion spell? Even at a new moon? Probably because of the Nexus I guess

Lujanne’s “Big strong man with big strong feelings.” She and Runaan have exactly the same type and I support them

Allen’s face when Lujanne says it aches to miss Phoe-Phoe

Callum eating off Rayla’s plate and wondering how Lujanne suspected they were a couple, hmmm

Soren and Allen bonding

Rayla warning Lujanne about hand disguises, as if that was something Runaan made very sure she knew

Rayla’s cute chaos grin when Callum’s Aspiro spell goes off is my favorite pic of her in this whole graphic novel

Lujanne’s “Oh.” afterward is my fave pic of her, too, she does not seem to handle reality well!

Bait’s tongue will never get old

Lujanne’s whole speech during Phoe-Phoe’s rebirth ritual is so touching and beautiful, my heart

Lujanne putting the newborn Moon Phoenix into Ezran’s hands, like she knows he’ll have the best connection with her

Callum’s tears as he reminds Rayla that Runaan killed Harrow, he’s trying to move on, but it hurts

Rayla’s self-soothing behavior when she has her second nightmare in the book--she must have these most every night :((((

the big symbol on the Moon Temple doors looks like a stylized Moon staff, like it’s a building for mages

Lujanne saying Rayla might not want or need the truth right after Callum mentions Runaan’s name to her, he sassily asks about her husbands and she turns it into a compliment

Callum’s big reaction to the moon opals is adorable. The only other one he’s seen was part of a pair of treasured gifts between long-time spouses, so it kinda looks like he’s all “uhh we just started dating”

also Ethari must’ve made cute metal swirly covers for the pair he and Runaan wore, since these two are undecorated--maybe he got his from Lujanne?

listen Lujanne is a hoot and all but she’s both an ally and an antagonist. Her actions are trustworthy but her advice is generally terrible. It’s an interesting parallel to how Runaan says a lot with his actions too, but he talks a lot less than Lujanne

Rayla yeeting herself into a fight just to ask Soren for a talk is 10/10 Moonshadow assassin goals

but her hood is up when she’s lurking in the trees--she might not have known where she’d find Soren and was anticipating something less fun on the feels-o-meter

Rayla in the mud again. Soren keeps making people fall in the mud

Allen’s grumpy squiggle

Callum, I love you, but you have no respect for moon opals. It’s like they wronged you in a previous life or something

that dancing elf has very long hair and shoulder pauldrons, and they start off dancing with six kneeling, watching, hooded elves around them--Moon Druids wore hoods even before they were assassins. Considering what Lujanne said about why the portal was sometimes opened, maybe those six kneeling elves are waiting under their emotion-hiding hoods to farewell a loved one who’s recently died?

can’t tell for sure but maybe the elf is dancing along the lines in the stone like they mark patterns for ritual dances, which would be the bomb

Soren and Rayla’s conversation is pretty wrenching. Seeing Soren have to struggle with what he did because it’s tangled up with Viren is rough because as a Crownguard it should just have been his duty to defend his king and he’d have nothing to feel weird about

Rayla dissociating herself from the term “assassins” and Soren dissociating from calling Viren “my father” in the same conversation is 10/10 excellent growth

Soren must know what happens to prisoners his dad gets a hold of, even if he doesn’t know the details :(((

“we captured him” and “Viren took him” seem to be talking about the Crownguard and Viren, not the brodigies and Viren

Rayla having a wooden sword at the end of the day bc she played swordfighting with Allen and Soren all day long

the panel where Rayla doesn’t say anything at all after telling Callum that she asked Soren about Runaan actually says so much, you can hear it

every time Lujanne’s white lies idea gets repeated, things get worse

Allen’s reading glasses, there must be one optician in the human village and he caters to soft kindly gentlemen of a certain age

in the moon phase montage, baby Phoe-Phoe is flying next to Ezran after one week at the Nexus. Maybe he’s paying her back by helping her learn to fly after she helped him teach Zym how to fly! Did they bond as tightly as Ezran did with Zym? I support Ezran just bonding with the most powerful flying creatures in all the land.

the irony of Callum using Lujanne’s tactics against her is amazing, but really the white lies thing is a giant ball of chaos in this story and it does not play favorites

Bait on the stone pillar during rebuilding

all the noises the Moonhenge makes are 10/10

Rayla dancing with Callum even though there’s almost no chance she’s ever done that dance before

Lujanne’s pupils going white, that is a cool effect, what’s it mean?

the black moon in the pink sky is so spooky! Is it just me or does the color scheme here kinda vibe like the space outside Aaravos’s library?

the smoky assassin squad, 10/10 creep factor, I love it

the lightning being a literal crack of doom with “CRAK-DOOM” as Katolis Castle appears, “echoes of thunder” indeed, very nice

Lujanne being mad but she can’t decide if it’s at Callum or herself

when she says pulling Rayla out now will leave her soul on one side and her body a husk. After the Insta live stream last night where we learned that soulfang serpents are Moon primal creatures, that’s... super interesting

smoky assassins go tssh in the rain like they’re still hot from being cremated, thanks I hate it

Andromeda finds Rayla first and seems closest/most aggressive so I wonder why she might hate Rayla more than the others

the assassins’ wrist bindings have gone red but they’re still attached and seem to trap the souls where they are. But all they need to be free is to perceive that Rayla completed their task, even though we know otherwise. So... would that work for killing any target? If you’re certain that you did it, does your binding fall off even if you’re wrong? eyes Pip

this must not be the actual afterlife since the spirits kind of mist up toward the moon and vanish, it’s more like a lobby, no one stays here unless they get stuck

portaling around just by shouting at villains, excellent

Rayla literally dropping a sword at the sight of the pod Viren’s in, yeah, it’s that creepy, I agree

Viren’s eyes are so black I think they’re Aaravos’s. I got a whole headcanon on Good Viren and Evil Viren for S4 now, wow

Phoe-Phoe pulling out a feather for Callum, awww my heart! This is why Ezran had to come, to bond with her so together they could save Callum and Rayla, it’s so sweet

so these humans are from the Storm Spire battle, bc that’s the Storm Spire behind Rayla and Callum on p108, with the rune-written arch. Did they die hating Rayla and Callum from the battle? Did they even know Rayla was up there? Or is pod Viren/Aaravos actually making them attack out of hatred for Viren’s death? One of these is definitely creepier and more awesome

Rayla’s confidence that Callum can and will boost her at the right moment with his magic, my heart, I love battle couples

that one panel that mirrors the Ghost Feather key art, hhhhhh

Rayla being the better swimmer, such precious irony, thanks Runaan

them holding hands and swimming upward together on the full-page panel is blessed

Lujanne pulling Rayla out of the lake with both arms gives me feels bc my grandma saved my life once

Lujanne being super soft over Rayllum, she is indeed a hopeless romantic

Rayla says “gone” about her parents and Runaan, and that’s the word Ethari used too, and I’m suddenly wondering if Ethari reached right into that pool and has always known that the lotus is half-submerged and if the sword he’s been making is for himself

I’m so glad Rayla told Callum what she saw of Viren

Rayla deceiving Callum and heading into danger alone because his life is more valuable to her than her own is exactly what Runaan did for her the night of the full moon in Katolis. I’m leaning toward her having thought this over and doing it on purpose bc she believes it’s a sign of deepest love--that Runaan’s actions and Lujanne’s words match up in her head, so she thinks it’s the right thing to do bc the mage and the assassin agree. Alas, Callum doesn’t understand the Moon arcanum yet, so he will have a different opinion. That mage and that assassin do not agree!

Rayla’s cloak has that Moon Temple symbol on its back. Is it Lujanne’s cloak? Any Moonshadow who sees it will probably know where she got it and who helped her. That could be fun!

[gayliensav]

Oh, Baby, I am a Wreck When I'm Without You

I need you here to stay.

Post-canon, Adam and Michael get the ending they deserved.

Read on AO3

Staring down at the key in his hand in disbelief, almost with a little bitterness too, Adam Milligan let out a laugh.

“It’s not a joke, Adam!”

Adam looked up at his brother, Sam -his only living brother at this point, apparently- blue eyes swimming with tears, “You think this is funny ?” he snapped, “You think giving me this is going to fix anything?”

Sam took a shaky breath, “I’m not trying to fix anything with you, I know that’s not possible. But I...I can’t stay there, not without Dean, or Cas, o-or Jack. I can’t do this anymore. And...you’re John’s son too, you have just as much of a right to the bunker as we do. You might as well use it.”

Adam stared down at the key again.

“Do you really have anywhere else to go?” Sam asked bluntly.

Adam glared at him, “I would if you idiots didn’t let Michael get killed.”

“Michael let himself get killed by going back to Chuck!” Sam yelled at him, “Get it through your head! The minute you were gone, he went back.”

Adam gripped the key tightly then, shoving it in his pocket, “Thanks,” he snapped, “For the place. But I’m not talking about this with you,” he said, starting to stalk away.

“Adam,” Sam called after him.

Adam stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“For what it’s worth...I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam called to him, “And...for everything else. I know it’s not worth anything, but I am.”

Adam pulled his coat tighter around himself, “Yeah...you too,” he mumbled, hurrying away.

.............

Adam turned the light on in the bunker, listening to the place start up again. A part of him wondered how long it had been off before Sam finally tracked him down, but the other part of him didn’t really care what his brother was doing anymore.

He couldn’t bring myself to care about much anymore.

“What’s happening, Michael?”

“I...I think my father is destroying humanity. Adam, I-“

“It’s getting dark.”

“Adam, I’m so sorry, I love you.”

“Mike-“

“Adam!”

.............

Adam stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He didn’t look like himself, not anymore. He’d spent the few months before Sam tracked him down just drifting from place to place without any real destination in mind. He didn’t have anything now, at least before he’d always had Michael.

He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was grown out slightly and it was a mess. Adam swore that his hair lost a little of its brightness without Michael.

A lot of things lost brightness without Michael, actually.

Adam felt his eyes sting with tears again and he gripped the sides of the sink, taking a few shaky breaths to try to stop himself from crying. It was useless though, he found himself crying at least once a day.

He felt so empty, so lost. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do without the archangel who had been with him for what felt like over a thousand years.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to have a life together, out in the woods in a small house away from anyone that could find them. They were supposed to have each other.

Adam felt a sob rip from his chest and he slammed his fist into the mirror.

................

Adam was lying in a bed -alone, per usual- he’d claimed in an empty room in the bunker. He was staring down at his now-stitched and bandaged hand, cursing his sudden humanity that gave him injuries.

That really stung.

So did humanity, really.

Adam closed his eyes, despite knowing that he wouldn’t get more than an hour of sleep.

..............

Adam was unsure of the actual timeline of his relationship with the archangel Michael. They’d talked, on occasion, while they were in the cage. He knew it was probably around the hundred year mark before they actually got more in-depth with their talks, until Michael was more curious about him than Adam was about the archangel.

The two hundred year mark, Michael was falling. He was calling him “love” and “dear” when he spoke to him and they held hands all the time. Holding hands with an archangel’s smaller version of a true form would seem weird to most people, but not to Adam. He clung to the light of the archangel like a lifeline and Michael did the same.

The three hundred year mark, Adam was quite enjoying himself, for it being Hell. At least he got an archangel boyfriend out of his shitty deal with Heaven. He spent most days with his soul wrapped in the warmth of Michael’s Grace, listening to stories about the beginning of everything.

“Your soul is so beautiful, love.”

“When we get out of here, we will be together, dear. It is only a matter of time.”

“I will keep you safe, my love.”

“My Adam.”

“I love you.”

............

Adam’s eyes snapped open and he stared up at the ceiling. He glanced over at the clock and sighed.

Yeah, he was right about that hour of sleep  

...........

He ended up in the bunker’s library, surprised about the sheer amount of books in it. He looked at the titles in various different languages, his hand stopping on what he recognized as Enochian.

Being bonded with an archangel for a thousand years at least had some benefits, he had time to learn the language.

Adam pulled the book from the shelf slowly, going over to one of the chairs and cracking it open. The spine cracked as it opened, making Adam think it probably hadn’t been opened in years.

His eyes drifted over the text, absorbing the Men of Letters findings about angels, most importantly the archangels.

It seems archangels require someone descended from Cain and Abel to actually have a vessel able to withstand them. All other reported vessels have deteriorated over the years.

Adam’s breath caught in his throat as he got lower onto the page.

Angels are not sent to Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory after their deaths. It is reported they are sent somewhere else, somewhere Empty. Below is a spell that has worked on many occasions for a vessel to awaken an archangel, specifically. Do not attempt this without knowing what you’ll possibly unleash by doing this and do not attempt this without a proper vessel available.

You’ll need the following: Salt, blood of a nephilim biologically related to the angel you are contacting, your own blood, a cloth, and something to start a fire.

Adam stared down at the page, his hand shaking a little.

“I have a nephew, apparently. His name is Jack.”

“How do you know?”

“I can sense him, that Lucifer had reproduced.”

Jack. Jack had to still be alive, right?

Adam flipped through the pages rapidly, hoping he could find something on summoning a nephilim, but it didn’t give him much other than some details on nephilim.

“Okay,” Adam took a shaky breath, “Okay, fine,” he said before closing his eyes and praying.

“Jack, I...I hope you can hear me. My name is Adam, I was Michael’s vessel. I need your help,” he peeked an eye open, “C’mon, man, Heaven owes me at least that much.”

There was the sound of a rush of wings and Adam opened his eyes to see a teenager standing in front of him.

“That was easier than I thought,” Adam mumbled.

“I...usually keep a line of communication open to Sam, in case he needs anything. I must have accidentally left that line open to any relatives following Dean’s death,” Jack said quietly, “How can I help you, Adam?”

Adam grabbed the book quickly, stumbling a little as he did. He walked over to the table, putting the book down and opening to the page, “I’m going to bring Michael back.”

“I...do not know if that’s a good idea,” Jack said softly.

“He had trauma, Jack, he was abused by his Father for eternity. Please,” Adam choked out, “He made a mistake, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a chance at life.”

Jack stared at him, tilting his head, “You love him.”

“So much,” Adam whispered, “I genuinely...don’t know what to do without him,” he smiled weakly, “We were going to have a life together, you know. A normal one, with a house just to ourselves,” he felt his eyes fill with tears again, “He’d probably loved to have been able to actually be an uncle to you.”

Jack suddenly waved his hand and conjured up a knife as well as a bowl, “Here,” he said softly. He cut his hand and Adam watched in shock as he dropped the blood into the bowl. The wound closed up after a few moments right before his eyes.

Jack smiled, “Everyone deserves a second chance, Adam Milligan...my uncle included.”

“Thank you,” Adam choked out, “Jack, thank you so much.”

Jack nodded and smiled, “If you ever need anything else, you know how to contact me. Good luck, Adam.”

Then he was gone.

Adam stared down at the bowl for a moment before quickly snatching it along with the book like it would disappear if he left it for too long.

.......

So that’s how he ended up here, making a circle of salt on the floor of his new bedroom on the floor. He was moving carefully, checking back at the book every few moments to make sure he was doing everything perfectly.

Adam set the bowl down then, along with everything else that had been on the list. He kneeled down, glancing over at the book that was sitting beside the circle as he did.

Adam grabbed the knife, wincing as he cut his own palm, watching his own blood drip down into the bowl. He quickly wrapped it in a bandage after to stop the blooding.

He dipped the cloth in the bowl Jack had used before putting the now bloodied cloth into the metal bowl and sitting it down, looking down at it.

“Well,” Adam whispered, lighting the match, “Here goes nothing,” he said before dropping it onto the cloth, watching the bowl light up almost immediately.

He closed his eyes then, starting the spell. It was long, he had to look down at the spell in the book a few times for help and was almost sure his poor pronunciation would ruin the spell.

He took a shaky breath as he finished up the spell, “...qui dormiunt, ad dominum formosum. Nexus noster, restitutus est. Surgas ex abysso, in lumine existas!”

The fire went a little brighter and then a rift opened on the wall, to Adam’s shock, making him fall back a little. The black void opened and light started to glow.

“Michael...Michael, it’s me, it’s Adam,” he said quickly, recognizing the archangel’s true form anywhere.

A misshapen hand, one glowing blue, reached out to him. He almost stumbled to get to him, linking his hand with his form almost immediately.

Nothing happened.

Adam took a shaky breath, “You actually need an official yes again, halo? It’ll always be a yes for you.”

Then Michael’s form slammed into his body and the portal closed. The human stumbled back, falling onto the bed as he felt a familiar warmth go over his entire body. He got dizzy and he knew it was because Michael was so excited.

“Adam...my Adam.”

“I’m here,” Adam breathed out. His vision was sharper again, like he could see the dust particles in the air, and he could hear the lights buzzing, but didn’t mind it. He was used to it, he was used to being a little not human while being Michael’s vessel.

“You’re here,” Michael repeated in his head, his true voice just a little too loud in Adam’s head out of his excitement, reminding Adam of an oversized, overpowered golden retriever.

“I am,” Adam laughed, wetness stinging his eyes again.

“My Adam,” Michael said, curling his Grace tightly around Adam’s soul, trying to get impossibly closer than he already was, protectiveness radiating off of him, “You’re here. You’re alive. ”

Adam pushed back a little with his soul, like he was trying to wrap around Michael’s Grace as well and Adam felt more happiness radiating from the archangel.

“My love,” Michael whispered, “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Never do that again, okay?” Adam asked, “We’re never separating again. Ever.”

“Not for the rest of eternity,” Michael agreed, “And maybe a little after that.”

[theredhairedmonkey]

What Callum’s relationships say about him

Callum always seems to gravitate towards people who share the same values and traits as him.

This was clear even back in S1—when he saw Rayla stand up to Runaan to do the right thing,

He decides to stand with her.

So, it’s no wonder that he ends up having traits that line up pretty closely to the girls he ends up falling for. First Claudia, then Rayla.

Initially, I thought that was just some neat attention to detail—Callum isn’t superficial about who he loves or cares about, so he has to feel some kind of connection or “affinity” to that person.

But now, I think there’s more to it than that. I think that, in many ways, Callum’s transition from pining on Claudia to loving Rayla also reflects and parallels his character development. From awkward sheltered prince to powerful mage.

Lemme break it down.

When we first see Claudia, she is so engrossed in her book that she was about to walk into a tree.

She’s described as always having her spellbook nearby (much like Callum has his sketchbook).

Claudia is a magic nerd, adorable awkwardness and all.

Much like a certain step-prince we all know and love, Claudia is pretty eccentric.

When it comes to fighting, Claudia prefers to keep her distance; her spells are long-ranged, and she’ll usually be on the sidelines while Soren does the physical fighting.

She loves magic, mainly for casting spells.

But she’s also capable of having an appreciation of magical things for their own sake.

However, for the most part, she keeps her feelings about magic at an arms-length. Claudia sees magic as largely an academic pursuit, a tool, or an outside resource that you can tap into (provided you know the spells).

For Claudia, magic is about what you can get out of it. Either a spell, or a ritual, or some kind of power just waiting to be unlocked.

Lastly, Claudia is ruthless. Like, really ruthless, willing to do almost anything to achieve a goal, even going through unethical means.

Particularly, she’ll “save” her family members through any means and regardless of how they might feel about what she did.

As a result, it leads her to justify all sorts of terrible actions that she probably would never have considered herself.

Claudia is ruthless pragmatism personified.

During the time that he crushes on Claudia, in S1 and S2, Callum has a lot of traits in common with Claudia.

For starters, he’s fairly bookish himself—the first time we see him, he’s drawing in his sketchbook.

We see him draw many times in the first two seasons, mostly for fun.

Or to calm down.

But even if he has only a few moments, you might see him sketching something—even here, on the Cursed Caldera when Rayla’s gone not five minutes just to check on a sound they heard.

He’s a nerd, just like Claudia—he’s eccentric, awkward, and adorkable (and thankfully, some things never change).

He’s also not action-oriented either, fighting from a safe distance or watching from the sidelines.

But most of all, he shares Claudia’s fascination with magic. Like her, this fascination is primarily with spells and not necessarily with magic as a phenomenon.

Here, while talking with Lujanne, she tells him all sorts of wonderful things about Primal Magic, focusing on how Primal Sources function as part of nature, but he steers the conversation back to what matters to him.

So, while he has an appreciation for magic as a natural marvel, and even though he has a distaste for Claudia’s brand of Dark Magic, he mainly sees Primal Magic as a means to an end.

For him, magic gives him something he can be good at. A way he can feel secure about himself. A way for him to feel right.

But as he learns about the Sky Primal, as he grows to understand the Sky Arcanum, he begins to move away from this.

By the time he wakes up from his coma and connects to the Sky, he no longer sees Primal Magic as just a source of spells and way to discover his self-worth—it becomes something much, much deeper to him.

It’s an experience, an intimate connection he now shares. His Primal Source is no longer an extension of his abilities as a mage, one that he can tap into for a wind or lightning spell. Now, he is an extension of it.

Callum expresses this change with just one line of dialogue.

I thought I had to find my wings, but that’s just it! I am the Wing!

It just so happens that this change in his way of thinking happened around the time he began to align himself more closely with Rayla. Ultimately, while Callum had already fallen out of love with Claudia by this point, it’s when the Sky Arcanum finally clicks with him that he starts to associate more with Rayla’s traits and values rather than Caludia’s.

The main difference between how Claudia and Rayla see magic is as follows:

For Claudia, magic is a tool, a resource.

But for Rayla, magic is an ambience, a part of everything around them.

Even though she doesn’t have much of the technical understanding of magic that Claudia and Lujanne have, she still knows enough to express how she and the other elves view magic.

Now, it’s not a stretch to say that this isn’t the only thing that Claudia and Rayla don’t see eye to eye on.

Unlike Claudia, Rayla is very action-oriented, using her physical abilities for just about everything.

That’s not even limited to just fighting; here, she gracefully slides across the ice just to catch up with Callum.

Or she’ll climb up a tree to ride one of the giant helicopter seeds down the valley.

Or she’ll lay out some rope and jump off an Ambler.

Claudia has a plan for everything—her bag has a seemingly endless supply of problem-solvers.

But Rayla, instead, relies on her can-do attitude—she won’t second-guess whether she can do something, instead jumping right into the middle of things and figuring out the details on the way down.

Rayla also prefers to be right in the thick of things; if there’s a fight, or someone’s in danger, she’s there.

However, Rayla also places a high value on morals. Even though she’s not above using underhanded means or trickery when necessary (such as tricking Soren and Claudia in 2x03), she very much believes in doing things the right way.

This is why, for instance, Rayla is very angry with Callum when he uses Dark Magic, and it takes quite a bit for her to be able to look past it.

Like, Callum has a spell, one spell, that will save both Rayla and the dragon, literally solving all their problems in one fell swoop, and this is the look she gives him:

Oof.

So, needless to say, in the first two seasons Callum resembles Claudia more than Rayla. He prefers to take a back seat on the action, isn’t all that confident in his physical abilities, and spends most of the time avoiding fights, especially when he doesn’t have a plan.

And, even when he understood that Dark Magic was wrong, he was nevertheless willing to do something unethical to save Rayla regardless of how she felt about it. He shares that ruthless pragmatism with Claudia that Rayla doesn’t.

But once Season 3 rolls around, we see Callum start to move away from Claudia’s way of thinking as he begins to gravitate more toward Rayla’s.

Early on, Rayla shows Callum magic in Xadia. He begins to see magic and the world it inhabits the way Rayla does.

I’ve heard people wonder why Callum doesn’t learn that much magic in S3, and that’s because he’s learning magic less as spells and more as an experience.

And through that experience, not only does Callum learn a great deal about magic in Xadia, he learns about what the elves are fighting to protect. He learns why this kind of world is worth protecting.

And the more he spends in this world, the more we see him come around to Rayla’s way of thinking.

For starters, he’s much more action-oriented in S3—we see him follow Rayla up a tree, ride a difficult-to-tame mount, or climb a 70-foot Ambler’s leg while it’s walking.

I mean, he’s not as good as Rayla at these things…but baby steps.

Even though he may hesitate, he’s much less sure in his abilities than in S1 and S2. He doesn’t insist on taking an easier route. When Rayla gives him her sword, he simply follows her up the tree. He’s showing signs of that similar can-do attitude that Rayla wears on her sleeve.

As a side note, there may even be hints that his connection to the Sky Primal may be subtly affecting his range of physical abilities. We already know that the Moon Primal can increase the physical strength of the creatures connected to it (Viren notes that Moonshadow elves’ power increase depending on the phase of the moon, while Ez mentions that Phoe-Phoe drew her strength from the Moon Nexus). And it’s doubtful that he would have been able to scale trees or Amblers earlier in the series. Right now, that’s just a guess, but who knows?

He also comes around to Rayla’s values—there’s a right way to do things, and the ends do not justify the means.

Unlike in S2, where Callum was willing to use Dark Magic to save Rayla in spite knowing it’s something he shouldn’t be messing with, this season he takes a bit more principled approach.

After they fight over whether Rayla should stay, Callum uses a spell to discover that Rayla’s parents did not abandon the Dragon Egg, and in fact fought till the very end.

And the thing is…that actually gives him a solid argument for why this means Rayla should leave with them. They sacrificed themselves to protect the Dragon Prince, he could say. You should honor their memory by finishing what they started and protect Zym.

He could, just as he did with Dark Magic, use his powers to help save her life, and it wouldn’t even really be that unethical this time.

And yet he doesn’t, because this time he realizes it’s whether he can use magic to fix a problem. He’s not going to use magic to get Rayla to agree with him, or to support his argument for leaving.

Instead, he uses magic entirely for her. He does it to give Rayla the closure she needs, letting see her parents and showing her that they were in fact heroes.

And when she’s at a loss as to what to do next, Callum just gently reminds her it’s ultimately her choice. And he’ll respect that choice, provided she’s making it willingly.

He empowers her, reminding her that she gets to choose who she wants to be, much like he discovered for himself:

This is diametrically opposed to what Claudia would do in this situation. We’ve seen her take the Primal Energy from a living creature to cure her brother, even when he’s accepted his situation. She does something similar, or perhaps even worse, to save her father.

Claudia would use magic to save people through any means, even if those people might disapprove.

Callum used to think this way, but now he doesn’t, using his magic instead to empower the people around him, such as Rayla.

All of this shows just how much he’s changed. How much she has changed him.

As a last point, I’ve noticed something else that had changed in Callum, though it’s a lot more subtle. Before I mentioned that Callum would always draw in his sketchbook, largely for his own enjoyment.

Yet in S3, we don’t see any of that.

Sure, he carries his sketchbook around with him at all times, even during the Battle of the Storm Spire for some reason!

(like, did you think you’d have time to sketch while people are fighting and dying, Callum what are you even—)

But even when keeping the sketchbook around, we don’t see Callum drawing recreationally anymore—the one time he draws in it, he does it specifically for Rayla, both proving that he saw them in his spell, and giving her a change to see her parents’ faces again.

The reason for this is because he’s become far more preoccupied with the world that Rayla introduced him too. He’s not sitting down to draw what he sees in Xadia. He’s going to experience it himself.

This all culminates in one final moment in S3:

Callum lays down his sketchbook one final time.

And leaps off the pinnacle to save Rayla.

After this moment, we never see the sketchbook around him again.

I mean, sure, I definitely think we’ll see him drawing again in S4, but the sketchbook is no longer inseparable from Callum. The symbolism here is clear—Callum has been transformed.

And just to drive the symbolism even further, his blue jacket is torn to shreds, leaving Callum with just his sleeveless red shirt, scarf, and fingerless gloves. Not to get too bogged down into color motifs here, but this change was big, since red is typically more associated with “action” while blue with “calmness.”

But symbolism aside, he looks less like a young Merlin and more like a young Goku.

He’s no longer someone who will wait on the sidelines hoping everything works out. Callum is now someone who will jump right into thick of things, against all odds and with a determination to save the day himself.

In short, he’s become someone like Rayla now.

[kyndaris]

Braving Tried and True JRPG Tropes

When Bravely Default II was released, one of the first reviews I stumbled upon spoke about the person’s disappointment. Some of it came down to personal taste: the art style. Others were a bit more valid: the weak narrative and carbon copies of protagonists from other games. While the fan in me wanted to contest many of their claims, the more I played of the latest Japanese role-playing game (JRPG) from Square-Enix, I could not deny that there was a lot of tropes being used to prop up the strong gameplay loop and to give players the chance to try out the different jobs on offer. Still, many of these grips failed to deter me too much from my playing of the game. After sinking a hefty amount of time into it, I was able to push my way through the multiple endings and give Seth, Gloria, Elvis and Adelle the happy ending that they deserved.

As the faithful readers of my blog, you should know that I bought Bravely Default II while on a road trip with family. Though I should have been luxuriating in the February sun, I was much too engrossed in my Nintendo Switch to pay much mind to my surroundings. And even if Zac Efron or Chris Hemsworth had walked past, I’d probably barely bat an eyelid.

The first few hours of Bravely Default II had me busy reengaging with the mechanics that I knew from the first two games on the Nintendo DS and Octopath Traveler. Considering my familiarity with old-school JRPGs, it came as no surprise that I quickly managed to level up Freelancer as I cut a swathe through the grass surrounding the starting city of Halyconia. In fact, I realised quite quickly that the best way to get good items without paying a cent for them was to play the game like Link, eager to find rupees in the bushes. By the time I fought Dag and Selene and Horten, they went down like flies even though I hadn’t even bothered to change from my default jobs. 

Truth be told, when I read about the difficulties many people supposedly had with these earlier battles, I was scratching my head. Perhaps it was simply the method I play the games - grinding out each job to my satisfaction that had simplified what should have been difficult. On a side note, I thought that the job levelling was much better balanced than Yakuza: Like a Dragon and an infinitely more fun experience because of it. It allowed me to experiment with my team and find the best balance for taking on the various mobs in a given area.

The only time I actually prepared properly for a fight was when I took down Adam and the last few bosses. But even they were a considerable breeze when one had access to so many abilities. Paralysing everyone that stood in my way, inflicting poison and contagion, then having a maxed out Freelancer with Thief skills using Godspeed Strike? Child’s play.

Now, onto the weaker elements of Bravely Default II. The various plot-holes and unexplored characterisation of the heroes and villains. While Elvis and Lonsdale stood out to me, many of the others could have been interchanged with someone else and I would have barely been able to tell the difference were it not for their individual Asterisk attire.

Let’s start with Seth, shall we? Our main protagonist despite the ensemble set-up could have been ripped from any Japanese role-playing game. The ones he reminded me strongly of were Tidus and Vaan. Tidus, because he was a fish-out-of-water that had fallen in love with the woman that would have to sacrifice her life to bring peace back to the world. Vaan due to the fact that he never truly stood out and was simply part of the story just because of Wind Crystal shenanigans. Later on, he was made a bit more special due to his status as someone that had come from the Outer Seas.

In a way, it was a clever voice direction for Seth to be the only character with an American accent. This helped paint the fact that he was different from the others. Still, it would have been much better if we could have seen what his life had been like prior to the events that brought him to waking up on a beach in Halyconia. And while there are scenes in several sidequests that explore a little of Seth’s backstory, there’s little to sink one’s teeth into.

Gloria, on the other hand, is very much a stereotypical princess of a mystical kingdom. Though the voice actress is very good at expressing the pain she has gone through as one of the sole survivors of Musa’s destruction, I feel like it would have connected better with players to have seen the invasion and perhaps played a small part in controlling her escape. Though these things are just little nitpicks, it adds to the characters and allows people to emotionally invest in the happenings of the world. 

That, in and of itself, is probably Bravely Default II’s key problem. The fact that it tells rather than shows.

Elvis, of course, is the star of the show. His quirky traits, affable nature make him a clear favourite and much more human than his other counterparts. The narrative around Wiswald was also great example of fleshing out his past and the people he knows. It is much more personal, pulling on our heartstrings to learn about the death of a young child, and thus carries more weight than the water shortage in Savalon or the fairy hunting in Rimedhal, which was clearly meant to mirror witch trials. 

While Folie, the main antagonist behind the happenings in Wiswald, could have been better written and with a more tangible tie to the people of Wiswald, the fact that she manipulated Roddy, Lily and poor Galahad with visions of the dead Mona meant that a bit of pathos was achieved when she was finally brought down.

Adelle, a little cliche, was still an intriguing character that rounded out the team (I still can’t place her accent). The reveal that she was actually a fairy was a delight. It was also nice that her goals also aligned with the main narrative of stopping the Night’s Nexus, instead of being as superfluous as Elvis trying to solve the riddle of a book he had in his possession or Seth just tagging along for the ride. 

As for the foes that we faced? Most of them seemed like excuses to dress up how players obtained their Asterisks. Many of them seemed like caricatures. And honestly, Martha’s excuse to fight the Heroes of Light was abysmal. But, of course, the developers needed a way for players to experience what it might be like fighting a foe that had the Dragoon Asterisk before they could use it for their own.

I will admit, the story just felt like a vehicle to pick up each Asterisk along the way. Oft times, I had to wonder why so many of these people felt compelled to stand in the way of the Heroes of Light. And while it would have been much better to have a more personal reason for why we fought these enemies besides the fact that ‘Oh, they have an Asterisk and something, something Crystal!’ I still managed to push my way through.

Still, the fact that Dag and Selene managed to snag more character development in the sidequests was great. Gladys’s attempt at atonement and her brother’s grief was also good ways to delve into topics that might have been a little too dark for a title that had such gorgeous backdrops and adorable character models.

Now, to the meat of the matter. The plot holes and the things that were never truly explained. Edna’s descent into madness though Adelle often insisted her sister had always loved humans. How and where Lady Emma found the book that actually contained the memories of the Night’s Nexus? Where does Seth actually come from? How did he die? Why was he chosen by the Wind Crystal? Why was Adam so invested in trying to conquer the world? Did he experience something bad in his past that informed his current need to stop war by starting it? Where did Folie come from? Who is she and why did she feel the need to torment the people of Wiswald for her art?

So many mysteries. So little explanation.

Overall, Bravely Default II has quite a few flaws and missteps. Yet, despite that, it’s a sum greater than its parts. The narrative might not have been captivating, but it managed to keep pulling me through until I saw the true ending. Anticlimactic as the final boss battle might have been, I still felt a certain satisfaction in seeing Gloria tackle Seth to the ground. And honestly, who doesn’t want to Godspeed Strike their way to victory?

P.S. I will say that after witnessing Adelle save Martha, I had hoped for a blossoming romance, but the dialogue between her and Elvis during the second bad ending got to me. It may not be my one true pairing, but Elvis x Adelle was an arrow to my heart. My only question is: how old is Adelle? She looks like a child and yet, because she’s a fairy, she could be like a century older. Maybe better not to think too hard, eh? After all, why sweat the details?

[artemisegeria]

WandaVision Episode 7

Spoilers.

That was some episode. I do feel a great deal of vindication. I knew it couldn’t be all Wanda.

I don’t like how the intro dispensed with Vision almost entirely until the very end, but I’m taking it as a last gasp of the Wanda red herring/Agnes’s Agatha’s influence. It was also the first intro where the v was lower case. 

I must say the first thought that occurred to me during the Agatha reveal was that it was a little anticlimactic. But then I immediately corrected myself. In a world full of twists out of nowhere for shock value that have no basis in the narrative, the show should be applauded for having their hints mean something. It is a great thing that many people were able to predict this, because it means it was properly set up. Narrative pay off is a great thing! Well done!!!!!!!

I’m still a little iffy about some of the directions they’re going, but at least they’re being consistent.

I also didn’t like how Wanda was so comfortable with Vision not being there (even though she reached for him in bed), and the kids not asking about Vision until Wanda mentioned him, especially when Billy was so upset before. But again, I’m putting that all down to Agatha. She makes a very convenient scapegoat for any part of the show I don’t like. I was kind of using her (or a similar agent) like that in fics before, but expect it even more now. Anytime I don’t like someone is being portrayed, it’s all Agatha.

I did like Vision’s interactions with Darcy. They were cute. He deserves more friends. But I’m still disappointed that Darcy was the one to tell him about his past life and deaths. I’m still hoping for him and Wanda to have a proper conversation with more details.

I did love Darcy being a shipper and affirming that their love is real and true. YEs, it is!!! But they still have to talk everything out properly.

And of course, Wanda wasn’t the one putting obstacles in their path. It was all Agatha. 

At least Vision seems in a more sympathetic frame of mind now, and not just suspicious. I love his determination to get home to her.

Also, glad we got more confirmation that Hayward is up to no good. Another predictable (not a criticism) but reasonable moment that confirms they were trying to bring Vision back. Obviously, Hayward was only working with second-rate scientists, and that’s why they couldn’t bring him back. I still want to know more details about what was going on with Vision prior to that, and why the good guys let Hayward get his hands on Vision.

This episode also calls into question the source of Vision’s revival. I’ve been hoping it’s the mind stone (though I still swear it’s not necessary), but after this episode I’m not so sure. Also, Darcy thinks he can’t survive outside the hex, but I’m still hoping that’s misdirection.

It was interesting to see Monica get her powers and that the barrier became so much more dense. I still don’t know whether to put the fact down to Wanda or Agatha. Good set up for the final battle. And it was nice to see her talk to Wanda again. I hope they can become friends later on.

And when Agatha agreed to take the boys, I was immediately suspicious (even though I was kind of giving her a pass after the last episode). I don’t know where they are by the end of the episode, but I don’t think they’re gone quite yet.

I think the book in Agatha’s basement is supposed to be the Darkhold? I did like Agatha’s reveal song and how they showed all the moments where she interfered. I still want to know a lot more about what her ultimate goal is and how much Wanda knows/is able to control.

Also that commercial today was very interesting. Nexus, as in the Nexus of the multiverse? I look forward to figuring out what that means.

And I want to know what was up with Wanda’s powers. Was that Agatha as well or was it stress from the previous night?

And we finally got a post-credits scene! I was wondering where “Pietro” had gone to. 

[windermeresimblr]

The Scotsman and the Mystery of El Bosque Del Fauno, Chapter Eight

The end (or is it?) of Alasdair’s Adventures behind the jump...

The world flickered back into view, and Alasdair found himself stripped bare and strapped to a table, unable to move. For a moment, he thought he was paralyzed, perhaps to witness his own dissection while still living, and despaired; soon, the medicine fog began to clear, and he realized he was simply bound too tightly to move more than his eyes and mouth. He was, unfortunately, still naked. 

“You’re finally awake,” said the Guardian, looming over him. “Good. I was worried XJ had gone overboard with the tranquilizers. We didn’t expect you to put up such a fight.”

“Not you again!” Alasdair grumbled. “If you mean to kill me, do it now. I’m not going back to that cell.”

“What a drama queen! I can’t just kill you, you know,” the Guardian said, looking annoyed. “You still have a role to play in the timestream. Well, multiple roles. Which is why you’re here, anyways.”

The Guardian gestured, and a globe emerged. “You’ve seen a globe before, right?”

“I’m not so unlearned I think the world is flat. I’ve sailed--”

“Sure you have! Anyways.” A few more flicks of the being’s hands, and Alasdair eventually realized what he was looking at.

“Holland? Why are you showing me Holland?”

“That’s where our next bubble is headed. So, the Dutch Republic, circa 1608, give or take a few weeks and the change from Gregorian to Julian and maybe a couple of hundred miles in any direction, up, down, or sideways. Do you know anything about that time?”

Alasdair wondered, not for the last time, if he really had died and gone to hell. “War with England, sometimes. War with Spain, more frequently. Pirates in the North Sea. There was some business with tulips and buying on credit. Lots of people roaming about with neckerchiefs starched out like millstones. Rembrandt, of course, and Vermeer. There were some English garrison towns...”

“Groundbreaking. What did you do, read Lonely Planet the night before the test? Well, there goes Bee getting any help with that term paper.” The being gestured again, frowning, and now three portraits hovered between them. They were all of himself, although the dour faces and severe mustaches--now he knew he’d look right awful with a mustache--made him wonder if the Guardian hadn’t gone digging in the McCarric vault.

“You have to choose a new life. So, you’re either of these three pillars of society.”

“Do I have to have a mustache?” Alasdair asked.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” the Guardian said. “Yes, you can stay clean-shaven if you’re so horrified by growing a mustache.”

“Do I get to know anything about what I’m getting into?” Alasdair snapped. “I’m not just choosing a new life based on how least poorly-groomed my face would be, am I?”

“I have to explain everything for you, ugh!” The being said. “Next time, I’m picking for you.” 

“Next time?!” Alasdair cried. “Oh, ye gods and little fishes, preserve me from ever seeing you again!”

“Ń̶͓̟̤̞̉̽̔ę̵̡̼̮̣̯̜͆̒̇̒̀̒͒͜v̵̭̮̳̝̗̩͐̋̍͆̊̑̔͗͗͝ͅe̷̢̢̝͖̞̟͐̌̑͊͋͛̆̀͝r̸̘̗̭̲̃͊̂̽̀̐͘̚͘͝ ̵̧̮̫̯̙͖̂͋̓̊̾̚m̵̡̬͈͎̀͛̈́͝͝i̶̧̳̮̦̩̹̘̼͊́̽̎͠͝ͅṅ̴̰̪̘͚̩̬̝̮̋̀͌̃͌̓̅̽͘ḏ̷̡̲̟̳̜̙͛̌̂̕͠ ̴̢̩̗̻͎͈̥̆̓̋̌̓͋́͐͘͘ͅţ̴̜̓̒̏͊͌ḧ̴̨̗̻͍̭̔̌̇́͘͜͠à̷̹̼̞͍̪̻̞͖̣͗́t̴͇̳̞͈̭͇̙̀̑̃̎̿͠!̴̢̲̹͍̫̘̎̓̐̀̉̊̈́” A pointer, as if the Guardian were a schoolteacher explaining a lesson, also materialized from nowhere. 

“This is William Beaton,” the being said, pointing to the man on the left with a black feathered hat. “He’s an apothecary in Flushing. Unmarried, no children--yet--” 

“I can’t be an apothecary,” Alasdair pointed out. “I don’t know anything about medicine. And I don’t speak Dutch! I’m not about to send myself hurtling into the past to poison someone and be burnt at the stake!”

“We’ll teach you everything you need to know.” Somehow, Alasdair was not convinced.

“I don’t think I want to be an apothecary. Who are the other two?”

“This is Red Finbarr of Barra, a privateer--”

“Absolutely not! I’m not ending up in a gibbet!”

“Why are you so picky? Do you know how excited some people would be to become a pirate?”

“Also, my uncle--my father’s family has relatives in the Caribbean,” Alasdair said. “Surely someone as knowledgeable as you--”

“You’re not even biologically related to most of them! And Finbarr was never known to go deeper into the Atlantic than the Faroes--”

“What’s all this past tense and ‘he was known to’? Are these real people I’m replacing?”

“Not really? I mean, they’re more...aggregates. It’s not really identity theft, or anything.”

Alasdair had a horrifying image of someone stealing his life, some hapless outsider (the bewildered apothecary, or worse, a corsair--heaven only knew what the third person would be)  beguiled by the Guardian into living out the rest of his days. A surge of anger flashed through him--that was his family, however distant, his commission, his friends, his horse, his books--at least he didn’t have a wife or a sweetheart, to also yield to this imagined impostor. (And, of course, he wasn’t really the type to give someone horns, even in the hypothetical; the thought of some burgher’s wife thinking he really was her Jan or Pieter, dandling someone else’s children on his knee while they had no idea who he really was, made him faintly nauseous.) “I’m not stealing someone’s life! That’s horrid!” 

“Fine, Mr. Picky. You don’t want to stay in the Nexus, and then it’s too immoral to go back into reality... Here’s door number three--if you don’t choose one of these, I’m turning you into a goat. A sentient goat.”

“Or you could just kill me. I think it’d be easier,” Alasdair said. 

“No. Killing’s too good for you.” The being stabbed the pointer rather viciously this time. “Alexander Cummings, a saffron merchant living in Campvere.”

“That’s a tulip he’s holding, not a saffron.” Alasdair thought for a moment. “Why are you so insistent on these three...guises? Are they going to replace me?”

“No, they all turned up their noses at your life, too,” the Guardian said, rather nastily. “Every person has their own...significance in the time stream.”

“So you want me to muck things up even further, then.”

“I have a few people in the region who also went through the Nexus. I want you to keep an eye on them.”

Alasdair had a mental image of some of the nastier members of his father’s crew...and his mother’s less scrupulous protectors. He did not much care for the idea of being an enforcer for the Guardian’s schemes. (Perhaps, though, a saffron merchant would have less chances for skulduggery than a corsair or an apothecary? Surely this Alexander Cummings wasn’t the type who personally went to the Ottomans to find his goods, or squabbled with Venetians in squalid back rooms!) “And what’s in it for me, if I’m your enforcer?”

“You’re not sent back to the Stone Age or turned into a goat? Isn’t that enough of a benefit for you?”

“I suppose. But I still don’t speak Dutch, and my hair’s awful short compared to his.”

“We have some time until the rift opens.” The Guardian snapped their fingers, and another group of mechanicals emerged. One had a tailor’s ham in its hands and pins in its mouth; another had a precarious tower of books; a third had a pair of scissors and a curious-looking bottle.

“Meanwhile, you’re going to be getting a bit more...hah...out of date.”

Alasdair was soon dragged off into a room with an array of strange devices throughout. He was pushed onto a platform, and then the harrying began. “Arm out, please,” said one mechanical, who then began measuring him for a new suit of clothes.

“The muttonchops have to go,” said the other, tilting his face its way, and Alasdair flinched at the advancing scissors.

“But they make me look dashing!” he protested, to no avail.

“Compiling trade route statistics,” said the third, its jointed fingers and stalk-like eye breezing through the stack of books with a dizzying speed Alasdair envied. “...Bingely-bing! Personality programming complete.”

“Personality what? I’m fine the way I am, thank you!”

“The hair needs to grow at least five inches at the sides...and he needs a goatee...”

“Och, no.”

“Green wool doublet and cannions, perhaps a nice mulberry sleeve in velvet…”

“No! No velvet! It’s too hot for velvet--”

“Enabling time dilation…”

His hair and facial hair grew at an alarming rate; the mechanical with the tailor’s ham whizzed about him, poking and prodding, until suddenly he was encased in a costume that itched and made him long for a good pair of trousers and a shirt. His hair and beard, even his eyebrows and nails, were trimmed as if he were a topiary in a garden. His mind was overwhelmed by new knowledge, facts and grammatical clauses and memories that he knew weren’t his and had never happened to him crammed into his skull until he felt he was going insane. Perhaps he had.

“Time dilation complete.”

Blinking, he looked at the mechanicals surrounding him, his reflection in the glass. That was, indeed, his reflection, he realized with mounting horror. 

“What have ye done to me?” he cried, looking at himself. His hair was slicked back and curled under at the ends, grazing the starched millstone ruff he was wearing; he had a mustache and goatee that made him look a pompous fool; he was, indeed, clad in green wool and mulberry velvet. “I look awful!” (Well, his calves looked excellent, but calves did not a man’s appearance make.)

“Stop whining!” said the Guardian, who had come into the room when he was unaware, or perhaps while he was contemplating the disastrous...thing on his upper lip. While some of his men had grown them, falling into the French idea that it was dashing and that their waxed mustaches were simply teeming with masculine derring-do, he had always thought they looked rather foolish. “You look nice in green, at least.”

“But I--”

“It’s time to go, you wouldn’t want to be late to your future, now would you?” The Guardian seized hold of him by the shoulders, clawed hands gripping his thrice-damned velvet sleeves so tightly he thought he might actually be mauled.

With that, he was once more shoved through a dizzying array of corridors until he was brought into a room that resembled something like a canal lock, only there was no water. “Suppose this is a canal lock, and not just another strange little room. Suppose they unleash the canal the instant I let my guard drop. I’d be drowned like a rat,” he thought to himself. “I suppose drowning is better than whatever was meant to happen to me in the woods, but what a choice.”

“Must you be so melodramatic?” The Guardian said, stepping behind a partition. “All this frowning and sighing and raising your voice. I can’t wait until you’re inflicting this Lord Byron nonsense on someone else.”

“Wh--how dare you, sir!” Alasdair spluttered. “I’ll have you know--”

Before he could make his reply--certain to have more than a few oaths and imprecations--a bright light flashed; he felt himself pulled once more by an unseen force, forward and back and side to side... 

Credits

Now and forever, thanks to all of you who read this and left such nice comments! 

Of course, my eternal thanks and gratitude to @danjaley, who was so gracious as to allow Alasdair and Daniel into the McCarric(k) clan, and for creating an excellent stable of poses; @moocha-muses, for letting me borrow Dan O’Doyle; @rennylurant​ for costuming advice and squealing over renaissance fashions/advice; @studiok2sims, for even more excellent poses and advice; @tolkiensimmer​ for advice on lighting and costuming; and @treason-and-plot for helping me get “unstuck” on several occasions and finding certain things I needed for the sequel. Why yes, Virginia, there is a sequel. It’s my NANOWRIMO PROJECT. MUAHAHAHAHAHA.

Happy Halloween!!!!!

[starwarsfic]

Gai'se bal Mande 5: Tarre Vizsla (1)

Originally posted October 1, 2020 (shhh I know)

Summary: There's one basic fact of the galaxy that lots of people agree on: Qui-Gon Jinn does not deserve to raise Obi-Wan.

Details: Time Travel during the Mandalore Mission. For the Punch Qui-Gon and Adopt Obi-Wan challenge

xxxxxx

The nights in the desert outside Sundari were freezing cold. With nothing to block the wind, Obi-Wan and Satine desperately looked for shelter each day, sometimes even backtracking despite the dangers, just to stay out of the elements. They huddled together in caves and crevices, trying to raise Qui-Gon or any of the New Mandalorian loyalists on their comms.

Today they had cut it close, the sun already dipping low on the horizon as they trudged through what looked to be ruins of some once-great building. Between the bombardment and the elements, there wasn't anything identifiable left, nor any buildings that they could use.

Obi-Wan stretched out with the Force as much as he could, senses flowing over what might have once been pillars, what might have once been statues. He almost stumbled when the ground dipped under his senses, too deep to just be a ditch in the sand.

"Sat'ika, I think I found something," he called softly, voice gruff from a day of disuse but Mando'a still flowing easily enough.

She hurried to him--tired, malnourished, but still bristling with righteous energy wherever she went these days. "What is it?"

He took her hand and guided her to what he'd felt, a good few minutes of walking away from his original location. When they got there, he thought perhaps their current lifestyle was playing with his mind, because it just looked like more sand. Cautiously, he pushed it with the Force and...it sunk down, a door hidden beneath opening and the sand flooding through the hole until they could see it.

"A basement," she murmured, her pleasure echoing in the Force. "Can you get us up and down?"

There were no stairs, no sign of any ladders left, but the fall wasn't very far. He nodded in agreement and she wrapped her arms around him as they'd done so many times before.

Obi-Wan descended slower than he would have if it were just himself, not wanting to frighten her no matter how much she now trusted in the Force. They landed softly in the pile of sand. Without needing to speak, they separated as soon as their feet were steady, Obi-Wan pulling out his lightsaber to light their way, but also for protection, as Satine aimed her blaster around them.

"I don't sense anyone else," he murmured.

Though, that wasn't entirely true. There was something about these ruins that made them not feel empty. Maybe some creatures, he pondered, already worrying about all the ways this unexpected boon could go badly the same as all the others before it.

"Can you close the door?" Satine pointed above them. "Sand should cover it again during the night, if anyone comes looking...."

He shot her a smile before doing as she'd suggested, glad she'd thought of it while his mind was elsewhere. As soon as it shut, they were plunged into darkness, his lightsaber the only source of light.

Reaching behind him, he caught Satine's hand, then started deeper into the building. Technically, they could stay in that room all night, but in case there was another entrance they needed to watch, he wanted to know where they were.

The only way out was a narrow hallway, nothing about it screamed danger in the Force. After walking through, they found a large set of doors, faded carvings all along them.

Figures in beskar'gam were easy enough to pick out, along with other clearly Mandalorian depictions. "This must be old," Satine murmured, "old enough we all forgot."

Old enough the New Mandalorians didn't know it was here to destroy, Obi-Wan though, ungenerously, but didn't speak.

A noise rang like a bell from beyond the doors and he startled. From Satine's questioning look, he knew she hadn't heard it.

Again, he could feel some oddness, some presence, but no danger. So he kept going forward, pushing open the doors with the Force and continuing inside.

Beyond was a gigantic space and as they walked they discovered the edges weren't walls, but buildings. Shops or homes, maybe, with doorways and windows. In the center was a field of dirt where crops might have once been raised. Further in, there were steps leading up to a grand building that even in disrepair spoke of reverence.

"Is this some sort of hidden city?" Satine pondered, studying what could be seen in the glow of the lightsaber.

Obi-Wan just shook his head, drawn up those stairs, towards another set of doors. "No. It's a Temple."

She hesitated now to follow him and he sensed unease from her. "To which gods? The Mandalorian ones aren't the most welcoming."

Biting his tongue--because he'd studied plenty of religions and there was nothing overly bad about the Mandalorian gods--he answered, "It's a Jedi Temple. Or...something like it. A Force tradition, definitely. Not Sith."

No, Sith would have...a feeling to it. He'd been around darksiders and Sith holocrons, he and Qui-Gon had even had an eventful mission involving a Sith Temple, but this was different. Maybe not Jedi, but closer.

The presence was here, he realized. It was the Temple...something in the Temple.

It tugged on his mind, nothing screaming "danger" but it was so powerful that he was worried, regardless. But even then, he found himself walking deeper into the building, drawn despite himself.

"Hey! Obi-Wan?!"

He wanted to reply, he did, and yet he couldn't. Step by step, as though he were in a trance, he moved forward, barely registering the doors and hallways.

Around him, the Force pulsed, growing more powerful with each step. It felt almost like the Temple on Coruscant, but without the cloudiness in the Force or the rot from the city around it. Pure energy.

A nexus, he realized, when he finally reached it. An unknown nexus in the Force, on Manda’yaim, that had somehow managed to survive the Dral’Han without turning Dark.

This was a massive find, one Temple scholars would be celebrating for decades, maybe centuries. And, yet, it wasn't documenting the details of it that drew Obi-Wan ever closer.

"Obi-Wan!" Satine grabbed his arm, gasping as the nearness of the Nexus made even her sense it. "I don't think you want to go in there!"

He did, now that he was here, had it weaving through his own signature, cradling him like a beloved child. Another step, then another, Satine refusing to let go and being dragged along.

And then...then it surged up around them and for one brief, brilliant moment, Obi-Wan felt as though the entire universe existed within him.

***

There was noise, frantic and mostly familiar, worried Force presences surrounding him. Obi-Wan groaned, forcing himself to come awake, checking immediately on Satine as had become his habit--beside him, also just coming back to consciousness from whatever had just happened. He wondered if her head ached as much as his did, though part of his issue was the Nexus seemingly digging through his mental shields.

They were lying on beds, people all around them. A not small amount were in beskar'gam, but before Obi-Wan could react he realized it looked nothing like Death Watch's, nor even like some of the traditional clans that they'd encountered.

The armor--in fact, every piece of clothing people were wearing--looked old, like something out of a historical holo drama.

"It is good to see you awake, Padawan," a voice intoned from above his bed, speaking an archaic Mando'a that Obi-Wan could just understand.

He sat up, swaying just a little from the movement, and studied the person who had said that. Fully armored, tall, imposing, with shields in the Force that would impress even Master Yoda.

Now that he noticed, he realized everyone in armor still had their buy'ce on, even the ones performing rudimentary tasks around what seemed to be a Healers' Ward.

Had they stumbled on some hidden fundamentalist Mandalorian Force cult in the Temple? That would be just as big of a find as the Nexus.

Which...Obi-Wan realized he didn't feel anymore. He searched, reaching out, knowing he couldn't possibly not feel something that powerful now that he'd known it so well.

It was gone, somehow, impossibly, but what he did find...that was even more impossible. Because not only was the Temple stuffed full of people, almost all of whom seemed to be Force sensitive in some way, but...the planet around them pulsed with healthy, powerful Life.

Had the Nexus brought them somewhere else entirely? To a sister temple on another planet?

"Padawan?"

His attention whipped back to the man. "I apologize. I was just..." he hesitated, then realized these people probably know he wouldn't know anything, "where we are."

The man cocked his head to the side. "You are among the Ka'ra Ga'anle." When Obi-Wan just looked at him blankly, he gave the forward tilt to his shoulders that indicated something like a frown, though Obi-Wan didn't think he was displeased with him. "The Jedi of Manda'yaim?"

"...Jedi...of Manda'yaim?"

"I've never even heard of that," Satine interjected, awake and aware enough to be inching closer to Obi-Wan and have the good sense to use Mando'a.

And worried enough that her hand was hovering in that way that said she might just reach for her blaster, even if the stun setting wouldn't do much against the beskar'gam.

Now the armored man, and not just him, shifted stances, as if they weren't particularly pleased with Satine's existence, let alone her words. Obi-Wan frowned at that, trying to decide what could have given them a bad impression of her already. If they were some secret cult, did they have enough contact with the outside world to know about Satine? They didn't feel like a threat, but with the shielding, it was still a possibility.

"Why would an aruetii have heard such things?"

They both tensed, Obi-Wan shifting as much as he could on the bed to be between Satine and the man. "You expected me to know," he pointed out.

That, at least, drew the attention in the room back to him. "You are a Mando'ad Padawan."

And...Obi-Wan now remembered he was still in beskar'gam, himself, having grown so used to it that in the current situation he'd...just overlooked that fact. "I...but...not whatever way you're practicing," he decided to go with.

If someone in a full suit of beskar'gam who barely moved could project smug certainty with just a shift of his body, that's what the man was doing. Obi-Wan was getting more worried every minute.

"You have the potential to learn."

That sounded ominous, Obi-Wan decided.

"You shall have accommodations for as long as you wish to stay. Your rooms, Padawan, will be in the Learners' wing, which is better shielded so that you might relax better."

"And my...friend's rooms? She'll be where?"

The man seemed to consider the question. "She will have a room in the guest section."

Learner versus guest, another ominous detail. They'd have to be very careful not to let these people separate them more than this.

***

"We're at the mercy of some sort of cult," Satine hissed, back to using Basic, as soon as they were left alone in her small, bare guest room.

Obi-Wan didn't reply, nervous about surveillance and not sure that the people there didn't know Basic. Instead, he looked over her rooms for any sort of unknown devices or hidden doorways before finally taking his buy'ce. He took a deep breath, noticing without his filters how different even the air seemed in this place.

"We need to find out where we are. This isn't Manda'yaim. It feels...totally different."

He didn't want to frighten her, but she needed to know. When her eyes widened and fear spiked through the Force, he grabbed her arms, steadying her.

"We'll find out where we are, find a way to get out of this...compound...and get to a ship. We've been in worse situations than this--they're not trying to kill us, I can't sense any danger. They're definitely not Death Watch, whatever they are, they'd never accept Force users."

She didn't seem very convinced. He couldn't blame her.

***

It was days before he saw the man who had been hovering over him when he woke up again. He was still clad in full beskar'gam (and Obi-Wan had been careful to keep his own on at all times, too, just in case there was some taboo he would be breaking).

Obi-Wan was wandering down a corridor that he was fairly sure led to the hangers when he felt the familiar presence. He'd explored what he could in the meantime using a pass he’d been given to open the doors, unsurprised when he compared mental maps with Satine to find out that she was much more limited than he was. Everyone had seemed to stay out of his way, though they were ever watchful.

What he had found so far was...odd. As though this cult really had been out of contact with the world for centuries, all of their tech ancient in make but somehow new and working very well when investigated. He had so many questions.

"Padawan," the man greeted, politely and somehow pointedly.

"I never caught your name." His tone was polite, as well, and he bowed with the deference one would to a foreign leader, but he mostly just wanted to know something concrete.

"I am Tarre Vizsla."

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly behind his buy'ce. "Like the old Mand'alor?"

Amusement clouded the Force. "You still haven't accepted where you are?"

They stood in silence, Obi-Wan unsure what to say to that. Finally, Tarre gestured for him to follow and they were soon in a part of the Temple that he hadn't had the chance to explore, yet.

More people milled around here and when Obi-Wan spotted a few holoscreens, he decided it must be some sort of common area. He didn't recognize anything playing on them nor any of the flimsibooks he could see lying around. Again, everyone was in odd looking clothing or very old styled beskar'gam.

His mind...was going to places he didn't know what to do with.

When they reached an otherwise indistinct looking door, the Force began to tense around him. Not with the danger he was still waiting for, but with anticipation.

It opened onto the outside, a complex of buildings with grass and trees interspersed, and beyond a healthy, large forest stretched.

"Do you know what planet this is?" He shook his head. "Feel with the Force, Padawan. See if you can't find something familiar."

Tarre sat down on the grass nearby and Obi-Wan followed. It wasn't as though he could make a run for it, without Satine.

He settled into a light meditation, reaching for the Living Force as Qui-Gon always directed him to. The planet was as he'd felt that first day, brimming with life and energy. Beyond the Temple there were villages and beyond them, hazy in the distance, were what could only be cities.

Beside him, Tarre's presence gently nudged him, requesting to join in his meditation. After a moment of weighing the risks and possible consequences, Obi-Wan slowly lowered his shields.

It was the first time he really had since soon after waking up, no matter what he was told about the shielding in his rooms and he realized his mistake almost immediately.

Where once had been a weak training bond with Qui-Gon was a deep, strong connection with the man next to him. One that should have been impossible to forge so quickly, and especially if it were forged only by one of them.

Before he could pull away, build back up his defenses and try to figure out a way to break the bond, Tarre was there, pushing memories of places and events into his mind.

He'd done this in the reverse, Obi-Wan realized hazily though he didn't know how. Before Obi-Wan had woken up, that's why he'd felt so drained--Tarre had watched his memories to find out more about him and Satine...and the time they came from.

Because there was absolutely nothing modern about what Tarre showed him--not the Temple on Coruscant or the Capital itself, not Manda'yaim and Keldabe, not the people.

The Nexus didn't exist yet and Tarre only had the slightest guess as to how it had formed. But he thought Obi-Wan had been sent to help him, to save Manda'yaim from the fate it suffered in his time.

Something shifted and the Force within them moved with it, suddenly becoming different than Obi-Wan had ever felt it before, foreign and so very powerful here among the Mandalorians. It flowed through him like air, leaving him dizzy when Tarre finally pulled away.

"You are more powerful in the Manda than the Force itself, it is why that Nexus called so strongly to you. It was not the Force as the Republic Jedi perceive it," Tarre explained from beside him, leaning close. "To not train you would be shameful and that useless Master of yours would have seen you ignore these ties."

"I...I need to get home. Satine and I, we--"

"Don't worry, Obi-Wan, this is where you're meant to be. You are home, now, my Padawan."

He must have passed out at that point, because he woke some indeterminate amount of time later, tucked into the bed of his large rooms, completely out of his beskar'gam.

***

Did the Force want him there, Obi-Wan wondered, a refrain of the question floating through his mind near-constantly at first. Was that why it refused to acknowledge any threat from the people around them? From Tarre?

Could being back here mean they could stop the Dral'han? How many lives would be saved, just by giving a Mand'alor foreknowledge of the event that he could pass onto his successors?

He, reluctantly, started training with Tarre, never feeling entirely relaxed (feeling too connected to him, learning from him feeling too right). Satine disapproved, but she didn't entirely believe Obi-Wan about the time travel and, perhaps worse, she'd been relegated to a position with the Temple servants, as she had no marketable skills for the time period and none of her political connections yet existed.

Secretly, Obi-Wan thought the experience would do her some good. She hadn't been incapable of helping out when it was the two of them on the run, but he remembered how she'd been while they were still in Sundari, before they'd been forced to flee. She'd acted more like a Coruscanti noble expecting to be served than the traditional Mandalorians around them ever would.

***

They were there months before Obi-Wan started to realize they weren't getting back to their time. There was no conveniently placed similar Nexus to use, even if he could recreate what had happened and control when they reappeared. And for as much knowledge as the Ka'ra Ga'anle had, the actual means of time travel, as opposed to the study of it, was not known.

After a year, Obi-Wan more or less accepted his place. As the Mand'alor's Padawan, he was able to travel and learn things that he'd never experienced, could have never hoped to experience. And while the training was harsh, sometimes like the worst parts of Mandalorian and Jedi training mixed into one, he improved in leaps and bounds.

This was how it was supposed to feel, he was coming to realize, this was how being a Jedi was supposed to have always been for him. At the Temple on Manda'yaim there were no arbitrary limitations on what people could learn or practice, no mismatched Master-Padawan pairs that were allowed to keep struggling instead of improving.

He found himself envying those who had grown up there, who had never known another way of life.

When he mentioned it to Tarre, his Master had been surprisingly gentle in his response, letting Obi-Wan cry out the grief he had for what he missed and, worse yet, what he didn’t miss at all.

Tarre held him, talking to him throughout it all, and when he quietly recited the words that meant adoption in Mando’a, Obi-Wan didn’t even try to interrupt.

There wouldn’t be any return to the future, but he could make a life in the past. Maybe a better one than he would have had.

***

Sometimes, he passed Satine in the hallways. Neither of them tried to speak.

***

Tarre spoke of the Nexus to Obi-Wan only once more. He’d found a way, he thought, of creating one, but it would involve sacrifice. The Dral’han had to happen in order for the Nexus to exist, the Manda creating it through the sudden, horrific deaths of so many Mandalorians and the power released with their souls.

They argued, briefly, over whether it was even necessary. If the Nexus didn’t exist, that didn’t mean some sort of paradox had to happen when it reached Obi-Wan’s mission to Mandalore--time was not so weak a thing, it would adjust and repair. And what did it matter, if the Nexus existed, but Obi-Wan’s travel didn’t save Manda’yaim?

“It is not the Dral’han you were sent to stop, my Padawan. Of that I am sure.”

Obi-Wan was reminded of his early months at the Temple and how ominous everything about Tarre had often seemed. He’d forgotten, somehow, that Tarre was a Taung-blooded Mand’alor, and what he felt and what the Ka’ra showed him could put his motivations far beyond Obi-Wan’s reckoning.

***

In Obi-Wan's time at the Temple, only one other person seemed to have come through the Nexus-that-would-be. The body was tall, humanoid, but so twisted and burnt by the energy of the Nexus that it was unrecognizable.

xxxxxx

A/N: I actually had another idea for this fifth and last one, but multiple people in multiple places wanted more Tarre so I decided...why not? Lol

Technically, this is set prior to the first Tarre fic in this collection--Obi-Wan warns Tarre of what Mandalore will be like in Obi-Wan's time (far from the Manda, ever becoming more and more like the Republic, etc) and Tarre uses that foreknowledge to put in place what's needed for the Dral'han to create the Nexus that would bring him to the future next time haha

Mando'a: beskargam - Mandalorian style armor buy'ce - Mandalore style helmets with the T-visor Ka'ra Ga'anle - Made up term, meaning Stars' Chosen, Ka'ra is stars but also like the collective souls of past Mand'alors/leaders. Manda'yaim - Mandalore aruetii - traitor/outsider Mando'ad - a Mandalorian

The Dral'han is also known as the Mandalorian Excision. The Mandalorians had been recovering and reviving and the Republic decided a pre-emptive strike was in order. They all-but destroyed the planet and sent Mandalorian politics spiraling under the control of basically a Republican puppet government lol

"gai bal manda" is the Mandalorian adoption rite, it means "name and soul." This is me doing my best to pluralize that into "names and souls"

[kuno-chan]

Sides of the Moon - Ch. 23, The Nexus

Summary: Runaan and his team of assassins discovers that Rayla has defied him. Again. But when they find her, she’s bleeding out in the woods with precious cargo under her arm and face to face with the princes of Katolis running away from their own castle. They find that, upon this meeting, the die has already been cast.

Rating: T

–

Please consider reviewing on AO3

--

Every now and again, Callum checked Rayla’s face. He knew better than to talk about her feelings again. The first time, she snapped at him.

So, he chose a different approach.

“You’re upset. And you’re angry at yourself,” he said. “I get that. You should be.”

Rayla turned her head sharply. She frowned and looked away. He pressed her a little more.

“I would be. I do, actually.” he said. “I nearly got us both killed more than once at this point.”

“Those times weren’t your fault,” she said. Her frown lessened as she turned her attention back on him. “You did what you thought was right.”

Callum raised his brows slightly.

She crossed her arms and pouted.

“Rayla, that--”

“Don’t say it.”

He made a face at her. “That wasn’t your fault. You were only trying to do the right thing.”

“And now we can’t go to any town even if we run out of supplies. I’ve just essentially cut us off.”

“We probably couldn’t risk it much more, anyway. Obviously, Anarr and Morgan are hunting us and aren’t above hurting others. If you didn’t defend those people, then who would?”

She didn’t answer him. He didn’t push, but he knew he’d won in some small way when she uncrossed her arms. She didn’t look entirely convinced she hadn’t done a terrible thing from the expression on her face, though.

Not that Runaan’s disapproval helped. And he could admit that perhaps they could have formulated a plan or she shouldn’t have gone in by herself.

But then Callum wondered if that was the rational part of him or the part that hated to see Rayla in any more danger than she needed to be in.

Whatever the case, nothing good would come of her dwelling over any past mistakes. He took her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, okay? I thought you were brave.”

Rayla stared. Then, she smiled weakly and squeezed his hand back before letting go. It wouldn’t be so bad if she were happy. It would be nice if Rayla was happy.

That being said, neither of them knew what destination Runaan had in mind. He had been tight lipped about it for one reason or another and didn’t seem inclined to tell either of them where they were going. They couldn’t deviate west anymore. That was not an option. Stopping for too long was also not a possibility now that they knew how closely Morgan and Anarr were following them.

No, they had to keep going east, to Xadia, but they had to stop somewhere, right?

Then there was the issue with the egg. It was still glowing dimly and dimmer still as the day passed. What would happen to it? Would it die? Nobody had an answer. Nobody had time for an answer.

“In order to be born, storm dragons must be born during a storm,” Ram was telling Ezran at one point. “I don’t know what will happen from here on out.”

None of them did. The sky was clear for miles.

When Callum got stressed, he turned to either his sketchbook or, as of late, the rune book. He wondered about this book. It had notes in it. From Lord Viren, no doubt. But he was curious how special this book could be, considering it was in his lair. There were things in here that made him think and spells he wasn’t sure if he could try.

Maybe one day, he might.

-:-:-:-

Rayla hated that he was right.

Even if it didn’t feel like it.

There were some things Callum didn’t understand. What it meant to be an assassin and what it meant about her actions, right or not.

Or what it felt like to have Runaan’s disapproval.

They would speak later on all of this when their lives weren’t in danger, but that also meant putting it off and living with how he felt about her choices right now. Just like back when she didn’t kill that human.

Thinking of Callum, she’s not entirely sure she regrets not killing that human.

This was the part Callum didn’t understand. Her duties to her people as an assassin . To her team as one, too.

Then again, who knew what part of her was telling her that? So much had happened in the past few weeks. There was a time not too long ago where Callum was only the son of her enemy.

Now, that was so far from the truth.

When he squeezed her hand, she’d smiled, and it’d been so easy to just squeeze it back. They didn’t question it.

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever had someone like that.

Someone who wasn’t Ethari or Runaan, anyway.

They continued to travel east, stopping only when they had to, but otherwise leaving as soon as light came. Travelling at night might have been something they would have considered if not for Ezran and, to a lesser extent, Callum. At night, Runaan had two people on lookout at all times.

Morning came with nobody feeling entirely rested. Even Ezran was still rubbing his eyes halfway through the morning as they continued their trek. Perhaps they had gotten spoiled, sleeping in whatever inns they could find disguised as humans.

That wasn’t an option anymore. Anarr had taken the pendant Rayla had on her person and there were no extras. Granted, it’d been dangerous at best to be in those human places, especially considering Herna figured out who they actually were.

Rayla didn’t ask questions. She followed, but noticed more than once that Callisto and Runaan would talk amongst themselves.

Rayla found Callisto while they were resting that afternoon.

“Is he going to tell the rest of us where we’re going?”

“I doubt it’s a place you’ve been before,” he told her.

“Have you?” She sat next to him. “Where is it?”

Callisto fixed her with a look, deciding if he was going to tell her or not.

He sighed.

“The Moon Nexus is a place where moon magic is at its most powerful. And it’s the only safe place for us at the moment.” She winced. He continued. “There’s a moon mage who lives there and guards the nexus. She’s a bit… eccentric, but doubtless she won’t mind the company as long as we all behave.”

“I can behave,” Rayla said, looking away.

“I know you can. And you will. It’s a sacred place. Runaan would not be happy about your misadventures with the prince there.”

“He’s already not happy with me.”

To her surprise, Callisto took on a gentler tone. “For now. But, remember, you rarely ever see him in this kind of light. Here, he is not the man that raised you. And yet, that’s a difficult thing for him to put aside. He doesn’t think you’re incompetent. Just green.”

Rayla looked at him. “That’s a little better, I guess.”

“A lot better. It’s harder to teach incompetence than it is to teach inexperience. This is your first mission, and it’s already grown into quite the ordeal. Which isn’t necessarily all your fault, either. Be a little easier on yourself.”

She cracked a smile. “Thanks, Callisto.”

He hummed a response.

At least that part was still normal.

-:-:-:-

It took another day to reach a small town at the base of a caldera, but they didn’t deviate toward the town, but rather kept moving toward the caldera.

“The Cursed Caldera they call it,” Ram said.

Ezran didn’t even seem bothered. “It’s cursed?”

“No. Not at all. It’s just the illusions the moon mage puts up to keep humans away, but it’s just a normal caldera otherwise. Well, except for it being the Moon Nexus.”

Andromeda and Rayla took up the rear for a while, leaving Callum with Callisto.

“What will happen to the egg?” Callum asked. It was getting dimmer still.

“I don’t know,” Callisto said honestly. “I won’t know until we get there. Hopefully, Lujanne can help, but I’m not sure… she’s a moon mage and they only deal in illusions.”

“Lujanne?”

“The moon mage that lives on the nexus. She’ll know what needs to be done, but if she can do it will be another story. Storm dragons are only hatched in the eye of a storm. And I don’t know any storm magic that could help.”

Callum gulped. None of it sounded promising.

It took another day to reach the top of the caldera.

The trek up was an experience Callum did not want to live again. Giant spiders, strange creatures and voices. It didn’t seem to faze anyone else, but himself -- even if he tried not to let anyone know. Well, maybe it was obvious. When he looked back at Rayla, she had that little smirk on her face.

None of it seemed to scare her. Rayla was fearless. Callum was decidedly… not. Not faced with giant spiders, anyway. That was for sure.

Near the very top, they finally met this enigmatic moon mage.

“Runaan. As good as it is to see you again, I’m surprised that it’s you who’s up here making a fuss with my illusions.” Lujanne was a dark-skinned elf with the signature white hair of her kind. She wore a set of light green-blue tunics and robes. “What brings you to the nexus?”

Runaan approached her with an air of respect Callum hadn’t seen since coming to know him. “Shelter, if you can provide it. We’re being hunted by a dark mage and someone I used to know. We could use a reprieve from them if you’re willing to provide.”

Lujanne made a face. Worry slipped over her features. “A short reprieve? Too much attention to the nexus could endanger my ability to guard it. I’m a capable mage, but a dark mage and anybody you used to know must make for a formidable match.”

“No longer than a week. We need time to regroup. Gather ourselves. And we have nowhere else to go.”

She was thinking about it. But Lujanne’s face was kind and warm. “Very well. I would not turn you away in your time of need.”

“In return, we will protect you while we are here. Thank you, Lujanne.”

“You’re a good man, Runaan. I know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel you had to.” She nodded. “Will you introduce me to the rest of your team?”

Lujanne knew Callisto and Andromeda, but not Ram or Skor. Then, they came to Callum and Rayla.

“The youngest of the assassins. I knew of you the first time I met Runaan. He mentioned you even all those years ago.”

Rayla’s ears pricked. She glanced at Runaan, then back to Lujanne. “Thank you for letting us stay here.”

Lujanne laughed. “Oh, it’s not a problem. Sorry about the giant spiders. I know they can be a bit of a surprise.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Rayla insisted. She nudged Callum. “But I think this guy was.”

Looking at Callum and Ezran, Lujanne cocked her head. “And you are--”

“A human, I know, but I promise we won’t cause any trouble,” Callum said with hunched shoulders, holding Ezran to him. “I know you’re supposed to guard this place from humans, but we’re not--”

“I was going to ask you for your names, but I appreciate that you won’t desecrate these sacred grounds during your stay,” Lujanne laughed again.

“I’m Callum,” Callum said. “And this is Ezran.”

“The Princes of Katolis.”

Runaan’s voice was hard to read even after all this time. Lujanne’s brows rose. Her face relaxed into that kindness that set Callum at ease. Then again, he was surrounded by assassins who’d been helping them this far. She wouldn’t be a danger to Ezran. He hoped.

“It’s good to meet you,” she said. Her gaze found the ever dimming dragon egg as Ram pulled it out. “It appears you have other things to discuss.”

Runaan nodded. “We do.”

-:-:-:-

Runaan warned Rayla not to eat anything without critical scrutiny. It wasn’t that Lujanne would poison them, he told her when she asked, it was just that Lujanne was… different. Rayla decided to believe him.

While Runaan and Ram met with Lujanne about the egg, Rayla found a place to be alone, just for a little while. She was sharpening her swords under a tree, enjoying the relative peace as brief or false as it was. Callum was taking a well deserved nap and Ezran had taken to Skor as well. Skor was teaching the boy how to defend himself, claiming he was too antsy to rest properly.

Callisto, not wanting to eat something his stomach wasn’t up for after a long journey, took it upon himself to mind dinner.

It gave Rayla time to think.

She thought about everything that had happened. She thought about her parents.

She thought about the guard she hadn’t told Callum about. That nagged at her. Did she have to tell him? Perhaps she didn’t. He might never know. Though she would know.

And she would know that he didn’t know because of what she refused to admit.

Was it wrong? If she was an assassin, then no. She killed in times of necessity. He was going to kill her what was more…

Then, she’d stuffed him in a box. Surely, someone discovered him by now. The body would have started to smell and people were going to notice he was missing. No doubt they’d combed the place through after what happened that night.

She was an assassin. It was her job.

Then, why did it feel so wrong?

When she thought about it, it wasn’t like she was thinking about her part in the mission. All she could think of was Callum asking her not to kill anyone if she could avoid it.

The lie she told .

Maybe this could have been avoided if she just explained it to him, but the idea of him looking at her with disgust. Disapproval. That scared her more than anything.

What would Ezran think? Would he be scared of her? Would he wake up and realize that the people he’d come to care about are all assassins who’d done what she’d done many times over?

Rayla never really had friends. Not really.

The life of an assassin dictated as such. It required her to keep people at arm’s length. But Runaan had Ethari. And he had had her parents.

In the back of her mind, she even knew he had her.

Skor had his wife and daughters. Andromeda had her family. Ram had his. Only Callisto seemed to be a loner, but even he had them. And perhaps some secret partner on the side. Ethari suspected as much, anyway, he mentioned it a while before this mission.

But Rayla’s parents were gone. She doubted they would ever show their faces again.

She only had Runaan, Ethari and this team

She had Ezran, now.

She also had Callum. Losing that… it left an ache in her chest.

Rayla kept on sharpening her blades under the tree. She would talk to Callisto again later.

-:-:-:-

Callum took a decent nap, but not a long one. He couldn’t sleep.

Perhaps because he wasn’t truly safe from Anarr and Morgan. And Viren.

Lord Viren was always there in the back of his mind. The man was like a black cloud since they left Katolis, and Callum couldn’t shake the feeling off of him. Anxiety, dense and numb, coated him like a blanket. It buried itself in the hollow of his chest.

He didn’t know where he’d be without the elves.

Or Rayla.

She always made him feel like everything would work out.

Even in the moments where he thought of Lady Eveline. The woman stayed in the back of his mind as did the sound her death made. Somehow, that was worse than seeing her splat on the ground.

Callum’s imagination played with the image in the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his artistic brain that was too curious. He kept getting flashes of what it could have looked like and each one made him sick. Once, it even made him get up in the middle of the night to go throw up. He didn’t know if Ezran heard him. Ezran never asked and Callum didn’t tell him.

Callum always considered himself fairly open with his feelings. He tried to be, anyway. As a child, his parents would take time to help him understand how he was feeling, and it had always served him well. Especially after the death of his mother.

But this… this was different. His feelings were too raw, his mind too averse to the image set before him by that sickening sound of Lady Eveline crashing to the ground. It was all too much.

All of this was too much sometimes. His life was too different. His friends now were different too. He felt bad for the thought, sometimes, but the way he lived his life these days was too different. When did he become okay with stealing?

When did he make friends with assassins?

But then he thought of Rayla. There was no denying that he was glad she was in his life. At what point did he stop being able to imagine a life without her in it? He didn’t know. He honestly hadn’t thought about it until now.

He also appreciated Andromeda’s affection for Ezran. Even Ram’s. It comforted him and made it a little easier to feel like his baby brother had the support he needed. Different as it all was.

Sometimes, Callum thought of Rayla in the dress from Meraxia and… truly, that had been the highlight of their journey thus far. She enjoyed herself that night. Somehow, that meant more and more to him these days.

Unable to nap properly, Callum went to go find her. Maybe she could show him how she gets her blades so sharp.

-:-:-:-

“Don’t agonize over this.”

“Callisto, but… don’t you ever want to tell someone about the things you’ve done? Even if they’re not…”

“Not good?” Silence. “I don’t have many people to tell or not to tell. The people who are here know. That is enough for me.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Rayla frowned. She wanted to ease her conscience.

“Rayla, Callum will understand. In his own time.”

She sat down on the bed. Callisto was gathering a small set of spices he’d managed to grab from the human town. Bland food was its own kind of demoralization, he told her.

She ducked her head. “How long will that be?”

Callisto sighed. “Telling him is your own choice. But if you choose to, this is all new to him. All of it. You must understand the pain that comes with being forced to adapt to a new life you never asked for. As much as he cares for you, he is still himself and you are still you.”

Rayla opened her mouth to reply, then closed it. He said nothing else. She sat on the bed, her chest somehow hollow and heavy at the same time. The truth ate away at her, gnawing like a termite. It was becoming harder to look at Callum and not be afraid now that they were in a relatively “safe” place where their lives weren’t inherently in danger.

“Rayla?”

Rayla jumped. How had she not heard him? Callum watched her worriedly.

“Callum, what’s wrong?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He walked into the room, ready to comfort her like he always did. That broke her.

“Callum, wait.” She stood up and put her hands up to stop him. A question formed on his lips, but she stopped him. “I have something to tell you about what happened in Meraxia.”

--

Hi, everyone! Sorry that my chapters have been slower coming. I've been rather busy with the RAYLLUM ZINE. Falling For You: A Rayllum Zine is the first fanzine and I'm one of the mods on the project! I'm the designer mod and I'm putting the book together. We're in full swing with it now, but you can still get it right now! IMPORTANT: Relevant to this fic, I've written a ZINE EXCLUSIVE chapter for Sides of the Moon that you'll be able to read in the zine if you get it! Also, Hanna Hofer, an OFFICIAL character designer who actually worked on The Dragon Prince show has drawn art for a special double-sided standee featuring Rayla and Callum in their formal wear from the Meraxia arc! That's right, you can get Rayla and Callum dancing in their ball gown and suit and have it sitting right on your desk!

Check out all the links you need on Twitter @modxadia and Tumblr @falling-for-you-a-rayllum-zine. Open for a limited time! So go check it out right now!

As for the chapter, we're about to get some fun emotions. This entire arc is important!

As always, thank you guys for commenting and reviewing. You know I love it and it really keeps me motivated to write! Thank you for reading! Tune in for next chapter!

[trixcuomo]

Love Games

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyway…

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

“I can’t stand this…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Forecast… 90 percent…Black.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Filled up with things.

Things.

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

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

Never in.

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

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

“What level?”

“Popularity level three—”

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

“Security level 50. Guest is Coco Cuomo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…You can’t feed thirsty people?”

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

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

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

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

[brokenjardaantech]

captain allen appreciation week 2020 day 3: coffee

summary: three times allen, coffee hater, is offered coffee, one time he drinks coffee, and one time he offers coffee.

notes: 

mass effect: andromeda au. connor is the human pathfinder. hank is his second. 60 is called clement here and is a member of the team. allen is an exile they recruited.

----

‘Coffee, Lou?’

No one has called him that for so long that it takes Allen a few seconds to realize that Clement is talking to him. Looking up from the pistol he is cleaning - a nice Carnifex that Hank and Connor, for some reason, bought but never used - he sees that the younger Ryder is holding a steaming cup in his hands carefully.

‘There’s only one cup,’ Allen says, dumbfounded. The lack of resources allows the Pathfinder team a lot of liberties and neither the Pathfinder nor his second are picky about the people on their team, but someone who is supposedly working for the Nexus being friendly to him… he’s still getting used to it.

‘I realized that you have not had the pleasure to have my mother’s coffee,’ Clement explains, ‘so I made one for you. It’s made from real beans.’

‘You went all the way back to the Hyperion,’ Allen stares. Hard. Should it make sense? ‘To make me coffee. While there’s a coffee maker right next door.’ He gestures at the door.

A shrug. ‘Why not? Connor and Hank won’t be back for a few more hours at least. I have time and...’ he averts his gaze and...is that a blush? ‘I want to share this with you. It has always been a great source of comfort for me.’

‘Comfort, huh?’ Allen wonders, pondering how to reject the man politely. He never likes coffee that much, the drink too bitter for his taste and the caffeine making his heart race and making him feel like he’s going to have a heart attack for hours, but what - or who - he does like is Clement. Dreamy, easily-distracted Clement who probably just wants to share his deceased mother’s coffee with his new friend (are they even friends?) when his brother and not-quite brother-in-law are out there being the heroes of the cluster by dealing with bureaucrats. ‘Why don’t you make one for yourself?’

‘I… I don’t want to waste good coffee.’

Clement looks so unsure now that Allen wants to stand up to hug him. ‘You drink it,’ the former exile tells him. ‘I don’t like coffee anyways.’

Clement visibly relaxes. Taking a sip of Actual Milky Way Bean Juice, he asks, ‘Can I watch you?’

The question comes so suddenly that Allen’s brain fails to deliver anything. ‘Uh…’ he indicates the disassembled pistol and the assorted mods scattered around the triangular table. ‘If you want to see me piece all this back together, sure. Go ahead.’

The other man slides smoothly onto the couch and sits close to Allen, the smell of coffee assaulting him and nearly making him sneeze. At this proximity, he can feel the heat radiating off Clement, and when he reaches for the parts he placed far away, he discovers that he can’t do so without pressing against the younger Ryder twin. 

Clement doesn’t move away. Neither does Allen ask him to.

----

‘Coffee, Lou?’

‘They have coffee?’

Allen is exhausted from the fight against - what’s that called again? Ah - the Architect. Sure, he grew up in the middle of nowhere in Alaska, but fighting a robot as tall as a building in a -50ºC cold is not fun at all. My scientists went missing his ass. That damned thing was a nightmare and caught them unaware, and he hopes that he’ll never have to deal with one again. It took four of them - Connor, Hank, Clement, and Allen himself - half an hour to take down that thing.

And of course the Initiative wants a fucking report.

‘Yes,’ says Clement from his seat next to Allen. ‘Coffee is considered an essential substance for every Initiative outpost. Taerve Uni possesses an abundant supply.’

No matter how much Allan blinks, the blur of the words doesn’t fade away. ‘Don’t like coffee.’ 

‘But it looks like you need some.’

‘I don’t -’ His jaw cracks open in another yawn. OK. Maybe he isn’t as awake as he thinks he is. ‘Stil no fucking coffee for me, though.’

‘Understood.’

Allen puts the datapad aside and takes a good look at Clement, noting his drooping eyelids and the way his eyes are unfocused. Someone is as tired as him. 

‘Where’s your brother?’ Allen asks when he notices the absence of the Pathfinder and his second-in-command. 

‘On the Tempest.’

The former exile very nearly cracks his head open on the table. ‘Did you just watch me work my ass off and decided not to tell me that our bosses are fucking resting?’

Clement looks taken aback. ‘I thought - I don’t wish to interrupt you.’

Allen sighs. ‘Listen, I - I appreciate that,’ he says as he digs a knuckle into his eye, ‘but you don’t have to follow me around. You can go back first. I see you’re tired.’

‘But I want to spend more time with you!’

The silence ensured is thick enough to be cut through with an omni-blade. Clement, as if just realizing what he said, blushes a very lovely shade of pink before putting his face in his hands. 

It is adorable.

Allen chuckles. ‘Look at me, Clement.’

The twin peers at him through the gaps between his fingers. Chuckling, the older man removes Clement’s hands from his face, and he laces their fingers together instead of letting go. Clement goes impossibly redder.

‘I want to spend more time with you too,’ Allen says. Stumbling for words, he adds, ‘I like you. A lot.’ Fuck. He’s so out of practice. ‘I think,’ he leans closer so that they’re breathing the same air, ‘getting together will be a great idea.’

A small, whispered ‘Yes!’ from Clement, and the next moment they are kissing; just a gentle press of their lips, Allen’s hands flying to the back of Clement’s head while Clement traces Allen’s cheekbone, and they’re grinning at each other like idiots when they part for air. 

‘Should we go back?’ Allen suggests, his voice low. Clement shivers. ‘Crew’s quarters should be empty at this time. We can watch a vid. Hoard all the blankets and cuddle underneath them.’

Clement kisses him again.

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

----

‘Coffee, Lou?’

‘Don’t like coffee.’

‘I know. However, seeing that you’re not planning to go to sleep, you’ll need something to keep you up.’

‘As if this is not enough?’ Allen waves his datapad. ‘A space station as large as a metropolis? The angara - created? The Scourge - a weapon of mass destruction? How -’ realizing that his voice is raising, he takes a deep breath to calm down - ‘How can you be so calm about this?’

Clement blinks, his face devoid of any expression. ‘Calm, or numb?’ 

Allen feels like an idiot. ‘Clement, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s alright,’ says the other man gently. Sliding into Allen’s lap, Clement wraps his arms around the older man’s waist and hooks his chin on his shoulder. ‘You’re not the only one who’s shocked.’

‘I keep telling myself that if I know more about the network, I’ll be less terrified of it.’ A sigh. ‘Evidently, it only makes things worse. Now I’m not even sure if I want to stay in Heleus.’

‘There’s no me outside of Heleus.’

Allen hums. ‘You’re right,’ he kisses Clement’s temple. ‘Stay with me?’

‘Go sleep with me. Connor will want you at peak condition.’

Ah yes. The classic ‘blame everything on my brother’ excuse. ‘Of course.’

He switches off the datapad and promptly picks Clement up with his arms supporting his thighs. Clement shrieks in surprise and wraps his legs around Allen’s waist, cheeks turning pink and giggling uncontrollably even after Allen carefully deposits him onto the lower bunk farther away from the bathroom, the one they have been sharing for the past couple of months as they sail around the cluster and fix everyone’s mess. It is small and low, made for one average-sized person, but they make do by having Clement sleep with half his body on top of Allen. Or having Allen crush Clement underneath him with his bulk, which has become their preferred position to sleep in. They get to stay close to each other, so although cramped, they won’t have it any other way.

Allen presses a kiss onto the nape of Clement’s neck. ‘Night.’

‘Night, Lou.’

----

Allen loses track of how long he’s been sitting there simply looking at Clement. 

They have Meridian. They have the coordinates. They have a fleet of Remnant ships. They’re supposed to make for a final push towards the heart of the network. They’re supposed to, at fucking last, make Heleus their new home. 

Not the Archon taking the Hyperion. Not SAM being disconnected from the Ryder twins. Not Connor scrambling his brains to try to summon even more Remnant to help fight the kett. 

Not Clement nearly dying because he apparently needs SAM to survive. 

The med bay door opens and Hank steps in, looking like he’s just aged ten years, his eyes cold and harsh like Alaskan winters.

But his tone is warm when he asks Allen, ‘How’s he?’

Allen holds Clement’s hand to ground himself. ‘Bad. If we don’t retake SAM soon… Heleus will have a lot less kett by the time I’m done. How’s Connor?’

‘He’s gotten used to SAM boosting his physiology, so the crash is a bitch. But he’ll live. He’s just sleeping it away. And, uh,’ a shrug, ‘don’t suppose you have contacts with some of the exiles?’

‘Not much,’ Allen says. ‘I didn’t exactly play with the folks from Kadara or Elaaden.’

‘“Not much”? So you do have contacts?’

‘Believe it or not, quite a number of people left for Eos and started their own governments there.’ At Hank’s skeptical eyebrow, he continues, ‘Most of them owe me their lives. I can try to contact them, but seeing that they live in caves, I doubt many of them are space-worthy.’

‘There’s no harm in trying,’ says the N7. ‘If they can’t go to Meridian, they can at least defend Prodromos while most of their personnel are gone.’

Allen nods in understanding, and Hank leaves to presumably return to Connor’s side. As the door to Pathfinder’s Quarters closes, he lets go very reluctantly and goes to the crew quarters to make himself a cup of coffee. Sure, stim packs might have worked better than caffeine, but he doesn’t know how long it will be until everyone’s ready to launch an assault against the Archon, and he cannot afford the crash after the effects of the stim pack is worn off; coffee, no matter how bad it tastes, is the best option he has.

If only Clement can see this.

----

‘Coffee, Clement?’

Clement looks into the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen when he wakes up. The smell of coffee - not the shitty ones on the Tempest but the ones from his mother’s coffee maker - fills the air, and when he receives the sweetest of kisses from his boyfriend, he knows that they’ve won.