#i think they like start copying other's way of talking occasionally as shown in the fourth one
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bugdogg · 1 year ago
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it went from expression doodles to silly small ideas i wanted to put down to emotional stuff
also trying out these brushes i got back in like 2021
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zaruba-needslove · 7 months ago
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Slight meta post since I have many thought... which many times I've tried to include in my fics and end up getting derailed or sometimes i din evet get a chance to include.
But nope.... not gonna talk about Kei-chan or Ace cos ppl do seem like to find faults on Kei too much or think that Ace would never do anything wrong or be less than perfect...
So buffbutt gonna be my usual target.... heh?
Anyway...
The series NEVER explained or try to justify WHY buffass was intentionally being such a sorebutt during the earlier games. Like yeah he hated the asses who caused Tohru's death--but wait?
Something that I occasionally think but sometimes just skip, was that I've always assume that assbutt KNEW exactly HOW Tohru died aka they had their buckles stolen after being ganged up and later attacked by Jyamato... thus explain away buffass's hate on the players, but DID assbuff really WITNESS all that? What if the only thing they knew/saw was just Tohru collapsing and 'died'?
Since we were never shown the actual beginning of the first onscreen DGP, it makes me wonder HOW buffass's actual first entry look like? Would it be the same as Keiwa's first hour at his first game...OR WORSE? Like someone would try to argue that eh.... buffass and Tohru used to be delinquents so it shouldn't be hard fighting the Jyamato the first time... but are average HUMAN trash comparable to a Jyamato? Weapons aside, can you easily get killed when you get punched by a gangster? Would've needed a lot a punches for that tho. But a Jyamato... one strike would've been enough. Early buffass ass would've performed as mediocre as Keiwa and Neon have been (yet look at that shit acting so snob saying all the noobs gon get pwned so bad). Also you'd think someone who cares a lot about Tohru wouldn't act so ass to someone who're also like Tohru.... right? He shouldn't act the same way as the asses that shit on Tohru... right? No?
Considering what happened to Tohru, it won't be weird to assume that Buffass joined the game because of that. But you know what? Assuming the bool's Desire card wish had always been the same... I had to REALLY question that guy's motive. His first DGP happening not long after he witnessed Tohru supposedly died... yet Butt's wish was to "Crush all Kamen Rider"? And not... trying to find out the truth about what happen to Tohru? Does that mean from the very start, he already believed that Tohru died? Really?
I mean...
So far, in ANY DGP rider deaths... aside from the red pixels thingie to differentiate the blue pixalating effects when players gets retired, have any players being shown that they've breathe their last breath when their core iD breaks BEFORE they got zapped away? Could anyone be sure that 'killed' players really got killed fr instead of being hidden away at some 'storage' facility?*
So back to buffass, after being told that they can make ANY wish come true if they can survive and win the game... have they never thought about wishing to GET Tohru back? No? Why? I mean until assbuff got shipped to Jyama Garden, that guy din act like he knows for sure that Tohru's Dead dead. Eh?
Suddenly I feel so bad for Tohru lol despite acting like he can't live w/out his friend by his side assbutt never considered wanting to 'revive' Tohru.
That aside, another thing that's been bothering me (and reason why I never bought that whole argument about 'assbutt really do care about other people's happiness' shit) was WHY that assbuff kept up this image of an asshole player that only care about themselves? I mean that butt was supposed to 'hate' those 'bad' players who should be responsible for causing Tohru's death (hence the animosity to Ace)... yet he's pretending to be the same like those bad players? That's weird. Like even if it's just to protect themselves , the behaviour the butt show was overdoing it. Even if they were trying to copy Ace's attitude like how rebellious teenagers trying to act like gangsters to appear tough, that guy never displayed any sign that their 'true' selves was really THAT 'caring' in the first place. Beroba was on point about that, esp whenever Buff try to overzealously act very kindly or caring... it felt more like Butt was trying to 'cosplay' as Keiwa. Not because of his own supposed 'true' self/personality, but because that was what butt thinks a kind/good person was supposed to be.... someone like Keiwa. So by butt's logic... to be a nice person is to act like Keiwa.
So yeah.... i dunno what people see in that guy. Butt felt so much a fraud as a fraud could be. Seeing that guy act 'kind' and not asshole was weird. Wouldn't YOU feel weird out as well? If someone who's usually yandere/tsundere suddenly went deredere on you, would you be wary of them?
So I don't really like that assbutt... though yeah, if he appeared in my fics I'll try to give explanation on why he behave like an ass... but aside from that, i can't stand that boofaw.
Buffa is such a fraud.
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*like before it's stated crystal clear that the defeated players were really killed and get recycled as plantfood, I used to assume that the defeated players were just stowed away/hidden from the public either physically or digitally (like how the Tree of Knowledge stored the Jyama parasite victims). cos I had these thoughts during PunkJack SP where Win saw a few very injured players being in pain yet they still looked VERY alive. So I used to think that defeated players din really die as were told before... that maybe they're just in comatose state or being put to suspended animation state or smth. So if it's like that, for the DGP to grant Keiwa's wish to 'revive' the defeated players... it shouldn't be hard to achieve that, since the killed players never really died. but it din end up like that.
** yanno i kept referring to Buff as something butt-related I may end up liking that butt lol, but nah... it'll just be Moku-chan's butt I'm growing fond of. Not that Ass TM. And I still won't ship that guy with Ace. Or Keiwa. At most it'll with Daichi or Knight or even Archimedel and Beroba 😃
*** before people tryna argue about why won't butt wish for Tohru's revival... isn't that the most likely thing people who have lost a dearest person would wish first, if someone ANYONE tryna offer a chance to win an impossible wish and it can be anything, wouldn't reviving their loved ones be the first thing they want? Also I think someone in the Desire Royale was in that position (or maybe i'm misremembering)
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raifenlf · 3 years ago
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Why Loki’s Sylvie Is A Mary Sue
So I am firmly in the camp that Sylvie on the Loki series was/is a Mary Sue.  The last episode made me feel better and like maybe the show was doing a thing where they were faking you out that she was a Mary Sue only to show she was actually sort of a bad guy and I liked that.  But all the recent interviews make me think the show wants to go back to her being a Mary Sue.
But I feel like when I call her out for being a Mary Sue people tell me what are you talking about, she’s not a Mary Sue, bad things happen to her, etc.  But that doesn’t actually make her not a Mary Sue.  
Also, before we start, I know some people find Mary Sue sexist.  But I personally use the term for guys and girls. I don’t use the term to belittle women.  I use the term to criticize a poorly written character.
And I know Mary Sue is often used to describe fanfic characters.  But to me, this series is kind of like a fanfic because the writers took a character who had been in canon MCU material for ten years and then created characters around that character.  So, I kind of review it like I would a fanfic.  It’s very different than if the writers had created a brand new show with all of their own new characters.
Anyway, if you are not totally familiar with the Mary Sue term, then check this out:
I know the term Mary Sue probably means different things to different people.  But I have always used these guidelines when I write my own fanfic to make sure my characters never come off as a Mary Sue.
This article really gives you a full scale of what a Mary Sue is.  If you start reading it, you’ll immediately see why Sylvie is.  But I’m going to take out the parts that most fit Sylvie just to highlight why I believe she is a Mary Sue.  I apologize for this being so long.
Mary Sue Character Traits
Personality
Erm... what personality? The typical Mary Sue doesn't have one per se, because she isn't meant to be a character; rather, she's an entity by which the author makes cool stuff happen.
I feel like that is Sylvie in a nutshell.  She doesn’t have a personality.  I feel like even though she ate screentime, I still don’t really know her at all.  The writers love to say she’s badass.  That’s not a personality.  
Sometimes when I am writing stories for fun and creating new characters, I like to take surveys as my fictional characters.  Like the kind of surveys you’d see in a magazine, like personality types, what’s your dating style, etc.  I figure if I don’t know what my character would do in any of those situations, then I need to keep working on my character.  And if I was trying to fill out a survey pretending I was Sylvie I would have no idea what to answer because she doesn’t have a personality.  She’s just “cool”.
What little personality a Mary Sue has isn't as important as how other characters react to it. No matter how shy or socially awkward Mary Sue is supposed to be, other characters will be inexplicably drawn to her
This is so Sylvie.  Loki falls in love with her...why, exactly?  He falls in love with her in the big Nexus event moment...why?  Because she had a tough childhood?  Mobius spends like two seconds with her in a car and goes from hating her to saying she’s his favorite Loki.  For. No. Particular. Reason.
She's extremely persuasive; everyone finds her opinions to be better than their own
She enchants Hunter B-15 and then immediately Hunter B-15 makes it her whole entire life mission to back Sylvie up.  
And occasionally she'll be a complete asshole...This can manifest itself in several ways...The author wants to write a badass but doesn't know how. This leads to a character who mistreats everyone around her and is never called out on her abrasive, casually abusive behavior.
Sylvie talked down to Loki and treated him like garbage for all of episode three, but it was never portrayed as a bad thing and we never got any impression Sylvie later felt bad for the way she treated Loki
The author doesn't know how to hold back the character, meaning that she will succeed at practically everything. This means that when she encounters rules or authority figures who would otherwise prevent her from doing what she wants to do, she rolls right through them (and they praise her for her "boldness" in defying regulations). If a bad guy is violent and aggressive, she can beat him by being more violent and aggressive (with all that entails). It's impossible for her to go overboard because she's protected by Protagonist-Centered Morality.
Sylvie is shown as a kid to immediately be able to grab a Tempad and run away.  And she can kick ass way better than Loki, for no known reason.  She is always able to fight back against the TVA when they attack her.  And she can kill lots of innocent TVA agents but it’s okay because TVA bad, Sylvie good.
Skills
She will always be superior to the canon characters, regardless of what canon has established they can do or whether it makes any sense.
Whose skill was needed to defeat Alioth?  Sylvie’s.  Of course.  Sylvie needed to teach Loki her skills in order for him to succeed (!).  And again, she is literally called the superior Loki.
Relatedly, there's no effort to her skills. She never actually trains or learns anything to become more powerful; she just wins the Super Power Lottery, or is a freakish natural learner, or is just Inexplicably Awesome
We’re told Sylvie literally taught herself magic.  She literally taught herself to enchant people.  That. Makes. No. Sense.  Like, I have so many questions.  Like, why would it even occur to her to teach herself that?  And how????????????  This is really lazy writing.
Canon Character Relationships
Mary Sue is often designed to hook up with another character, often as a form of Wish Fulfillment. This isn't that bad in and of itself (okay, it is kinda weird), but Mary Sue accomplishes this without any sense of realism. She just grabs her lover's attention straight away, and their relationship will never face any obstacles or tension; it's true love from the start and nothing else. The biggest giveaway is if the love interest is explicitly the author's favorite character, and she essentially "cures" him of all the angst that ails him (at the expense of his characterization).
Yeah, so...this one should be pretty obvious to anyone who watched the show.  Loki literally falls in love with Sylvie immediately, and then he suddenly turns from “villain” to “hero” just because of loving her.  And this was definitely at the expense of his characterization.  And Loki just knows he falls in love with her.  There’s not even any moments of hmm what do I feel for this person?  It’s just true love, immediately.
She will be related to a canon character in some way. This (marginally) helps explain such phenomena as her being a Copy Cat Sue and other characters accepting her so easily.
Sylvie is a Loki variant.  They use this to help explain why Loki is drawn to her and why their falling in love immediately “makes sense”.
Most characters give her more heed than they normally would. The good guys never stop praising her
Seriously, it was so over the top and OOC for Loki to gush over her.  He literally tells her she’s amazing.  They don’t even make it subtle.
Characters' previously established personalities change in reaction to her. Proud, arrogant gimps suddenly acknowledge her superiority in everything. Reckless youths will listen to all her advice. Responsible leaders will defer to her instead. Villains will obsess with her to the detriment of all else. Extremely competent characters will become stumbling buffoons who require her help to do anything. Sweet, mild-mannered characters whom the author doesn't like turn evil and insult her. They all become unnaturally focused on her in some way.
Again, Loki’s whole personality changed in reaction to her.  He became a buffoon who needed her help to enchant the Alioth because of course he couldn’t do anything without her!  Hunter B-15 goes from doing whatever the TVA said to fighting the TVA just because of Sylvie.
Story Elements
Mary Sue is without exception a single-person Spotlight-Stealing Squad. The entire story hinges on her existence; if you removed her, there would be no story. 
Sylvie undoubtedly drove the whole story this season.  It all became about HER meeting the TVA heads because of HER trauma.  Loki’s life was only saved at the beginning because the TVA was trying to capture HER.  And SHE was the one who started the whole multiverse (!).
Mary Sue is The Chosen One, even if the setting already has one. There are many ways she can accomplish this: she can be a Sailor Earth type who "shares" the position with the canon hero; she may be vaguely "destined to help the destined one fulfill their destiny" (i.e. do all the work except the final blow so that the prophecy is still technically correct); or the canon hero may be revealed to be a Fake Ultimate Hero all along. Being the Chosen One doesn't necessarily involve her being a God-Mode Sue, especially as authors become aware of the phenomenon and try to avoid it, but it does make her critically important to the world and allows her to continue stealing the spotlight without the "god mode" label.
HWR wanted Sylvie to come with Loki in the end, like she was chosen all along right alongside Loki.  Like one of the most important characters in the entire MCU is now this character who we only met a few episodes ago.
Most Sues have an unusually Dark and Troubled Past. It's often used to create a Sympathetic Sue, but any type of Sue can have one
They tell us, over and over, how hard Sylvie’s life was because she was kidnapped by the TVA in order to create sympathy for her.
She almost never does anything wrong. In the rare instance that she does, it's usually; (a) a way for the author to disclaim her being a Mary Sue by introducing a single imperfection (that has no bearing on anything anyway), and (b) designed to show her smarts by making her feel instant remorse, and she'll be Easily Forgiven anyway:
So this one hopefully will not come true, as a lot can change between now and when the show is taped. But if the show goes on the way the behind the scenes team is talking, Sylvie immediately felt remorse for betraying Loki, and Loki has already forgiven her and is desperately looking for her.  Ugh.
Alternatively, she is more than capable of doing something wrong, be it in general moral terms or something that goes against whatever code she abides by, and she maybe even frequently does so, but don't expect the other characters or the narrative to ever acknowledge or comment on it in any real capacity. If the other characters do call her out, expect them to be treated like they're the problem for daring to criticize her at all.
Mobius calls her out for killing people, but Sylvie immediately says he’s a bad person and then Mobius agrees, because, of course.
She will often suffer from Special Snowflake Syndrome; i.e., she has a trait or backstory that sets her apart from her group or race.
She is the only female Loki, thus making her the special one among all the Lokis in episode five.
Presentation
In visual media, the camera just can't stop staring at her.
The camera would follow her in fight scenes rather than Loki.
Mary Sue Tropes
Okay, so there are specific Mary Sue tropes that Sylvie is.  One of those is Copy Cat Sue, which I think was referenced before.
Copy Cat Sue
A lot of fanfic writers...start to write something because of their passion for this character, but they find something about the character that doesn't mesh well. Maybe they're the wrong gender or are otherwise not close enough to the author's expectations...In any case, rather than put them through the Possession Sue process, they just get a Clone-O-Matic™ and out pops a Copy Cat Sue...the character might be intended as a replacement for the canon character, but without whatever icky traits the author hates. They'll then rob the spotlight, prove the canon character to be unworthy of his/her position, and either relegate the character to obsolescence or, perhaps, even remove them entirely.
Sylvie is basically a clone of Loki, she is a variant.  But she absolutely robbed the spotlight of Loki’s, and they literally call her the superior Loki.  I mean, they are literally not even being subtle about this.  And there was a feeling by myself (and a lot of other viewers) that Sylvie might ultimately replace Loki in the MCU. 
Black Hole Sue
Much like a black hole, this is a Mary Sue who "sucks in" the plot and characters to her. Characters will behave outside their personalities, logic will be defied, and rules will be broken for her sake.
Sylvie really does suck up all the plot and Loki definitely behaves outside of his personality just to fit the Sylvie show.
Jerk Sue
A Mary Sue who is mean or maybe even cruel, but are still treated as an ideal person.
Once again, Sylvie is basically a jerk all of episode three, but you’ve got Loki falling over himself to call her amazing in just the next episode.
Relationship Sue
A Mary Sue who exists to be the perfect mate for a specific character...this character has everything in the plot conspiring to enforce this One True Pairing...in Fanfiction, they are the perfect beloved of a canon character.
They literally have Mobius speculate that Loki falling in love with Sylvie is so extraordinary that it causes an entire Nexus event, that’s how huge this One True Pairing is (!).  And Sylvie is the love interest of Loki, the only character who had been around before the beginning of the series
TLDR: Sylvie has all the tropes of a classic Mary Sue character.  So calling Sylvie a Mary Sue isn’t being sexist or just randomly hating on the character.  If you use common Mary Sue characteristics to examine the character, she just has too many of these characteristics to ignore.
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screenshotsofsteven · 4 years ago
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What’s funny about Steven always wearing the same outfit is that it isn’t like the gems never bought him other clothes, at some point he had various other things to wear and just didn’t. And it’s not like he never changes what his outfit is, he just doesn’t change it very often. The times he wears something else temporarily is mainly just when it’s required by the weather, or when he’s dressing up for some specific activity or role that he feels he needs more of a ‘costume’ for. Even then, he only wears the same few outfits for relevant weather situations, and the activity based clothes are pretty rare. The only notable exception to this is his pajamas, but we’ll get back to that later.
There’s no explanation given for this in the show, and the reason for it is almost certainly the same as the reason most cartoon characters wear the same outfit all the time, but the fact that the series does indirectly lampshade this by showing us he just has a bunch of copies of the exact same shirt and pants, and the fact that other characters are shown changing clothes occasionally or even regularly (or they have an excuse like usually being seen at work), means I’m gonna over-analyze it anyways because I can.
So, is this due to him being used to living with gems and he just imitates them? Well, in the extended intro he’s shown wearing the same shirt as a toddler, when he was still living with Greg, so I don’t think that’s the case. And interestingly, while I’m sure some people might be thinking “well Greg always wore the same clothes too”, what you might not remember, is that in the first season at least Greg is shown wearing a slightly different outfit from the last one he wore in the first several episodes he’s in, so it’s established pretty early on that he doesn’t just have one outfit all the time. He doesn’t change his shirt, but he does change between sweat pants, ripped shorts, and regular shorts. Plus we see his wardrobe that he keeps with him in his van and it’s pretty eclectic, so all signs point to Greg not being the kind of guy who wears the exact same clothes every single day, even if he has a type of outfit he defaults to most of the time.
Is it because Greg couldn’t afford other clothes and just relied on his old merch to provide clothes for Steven? Well I don’t think that’s the case either, because Greg could afford to provide the gems and Steven with enough money to get a few luxuries like video games, toys, etc, so I’m sure he could afford to go to a thrift store or the SU equivalent of walmart to get stuff cheap. And even if that wasn’t the case, he had a whole-ass storage shed full of stuff including a bunch of clothes, and since the shirt he gave Steven didn’t fit to start with, it apparently wasn’t a big deal if the clothes were too big. So Greg could have just given Steven a bunch of hand-me-downs. Also, the fact that Steven later wears different colour versions of the shirt, and we’ve seen that Greg owned merch with other colours or designs in the past, means that even if merch was the only option, Steven still could have at least worn different colours from day to day if he wanted. Which means that it seems like it doesn’t just stem from his living situation.
Which leads to my final question: is it a conscious choice, or is it unconscious? It could be that even from a young age, and before he moved in, Steven wanted to be like the gems and thus started copying them by always wearing the same stuff for long periods of time. But Steven has always shown equal interest in gem stuff and human stuff, and there are a lot of lifestyle aspects where he doesn’t imitate the gems and that doesn’t seem to bother him. He actually often invites them to engage with him in more human activities. So, I’m not so sure this is the case. But for gems, choosing their form naturally involves looking a specific way for an extended time period. Not putting in any thought into their choice and trying to change it on a whim would require poofing themselves regularly, and it’s shown having negative consequences when it happens, even potentially making the gem less stable. They’re predisposed to making a semi-permanent commitment to how they’re going to look for a while. So it’s possible that Steven instinctively does the same thing, putting a lot of thought into what he wears, and then committing to that choice for a long period of time, because that’s what feels natural. And it could tie back in to what I said about the only exception being his pajamas, which change regularly. Pajamas are something you wear while sleeping, and gems don’t naturally sleep. Steven might have more human instincts related to that sort of thing, which may be why he doesn’t feel compelled to have a specific outfit for that aspect of his life like he does almost everywhere else.
Anyways obviously this is only speculation, but thanks for coming to my TED talk.
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comehomeducklings · 3 years ago
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Present [Part 1] (Obsession)
A/N: Please don't copy, redistribute, and/or post my work on this site or any others. This has taken my time and creativity to come up with the story's characters and plot.
Also, I swear my writing gets better. It's a little rough right now but I'm planning on rewriting them.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Tom Riddle's Moodboard
Main Character's Moodboard
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1943 ~ 6th year
No sound above whispers could be heard throughout the great hall. The food on the table hasn't been touched by a single hand. The very thought of eating churning all our stomachs. Not during these times. Our heads turn every now and then, afraid of what might sneak up behind us. The death of Myrtle and others has shaken the entire school. A murderer is among us, trust is such a foreign concept now.
Dark purple eye-bags lay beneath every single student's eyes. No one is allowed to go home for the holidays. They aren't allowing us to leave, we are stuck in this cloud of darkness and uncertainty. No owls are supposed to be sent out. As the head girl, I'm responsible for every student's life and responsibilities. I have to know where everyone is at all times. It gets tiring at times, but necessary nonetheless.
A nightly routine consisted of all my dormmates huddling around each other. No sleep would come to us all night. We wouldn't move from the same spot until light shown from the windows. Our beds are all pressed together in the farthest corner of the room from the door. Our wands never leaving our hands in case of danger. Every little sound made from the outside provoking us. Even to the point of going mad. Potions used to stay awake, slowly wearing off as the morning arose. No sleep, we can't afford that luxury anymore.
I would leave the dorm to wait at the portrait for our assigned house professor to come. They would tell me it was safe for everyone to head to the great hall to get breakfast. As soon as they were done I quickly went to everyone's dormitory to wake them up, if they even slept at all. I would then inform them that it was safe to step out of their dorms. After everyone got situated I would have the students form a line and lead them towards the great hall. 1st-3rd years would occasionally hold the folds of my robes. Fearing that when they blink I would be gone. Leaving them alone to deal with the dangers that lurk in the school.
Not once have I lied about how they are going to be all right. That would be cruel. These students don't seek pathetic nurturing words, they want a protective force watching over them. So many clubs and activities have been canceled. Hogsmede and quidditch proving as a prime example. No one complained though, quidditch players too afraid to even step out of the castle's walls even if they were allowed.
Back to the present, I hold my good friend's hand as she slightly shakes from anxiety. I can see it in her eyes, the doubt of making it alive eating away at her brain. The spark once present in her shiny green eyes being blown out. Amelia, her name being. She's been biting her nails again, to the point where it had bled. This can be backed by the dried-up blood that is present at the tip of her finger's nail.
A booming voice can be heard, "You are now being dismissed to head to class, your houses head girl and boy will be assigning the group you'll be heading off with."
First period has been removed from every perfect and head's schedule. During this time we search the whole castle for any wanders. We make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. If someone got lost or went to the wrong class we escort them to where they need to be.
After every class, students have a limited amount of time to get to their next lesson. Although, perfects and heads get more time to make sure everyone is where they are needed quickly. Then we hurry to our class after scanning the halls swiftly.
The once safest school of the wizarding world giving birth to the dark ages. More bodies have been found littering the schools. Most of them not found until their ghosts appear before us. Every single one not knowing how they died. Like the murderer is invisible upon meeting the victim. I originally suggested it could have been done by poison. When the bodies were checked, no traces of poison had been traced.
Professors have been waiting for the person who is responsible to slip up, to give us a clue. I don't think that will happen though. The process of these killings has been too thought out and well planned. I wouldn't be surprised if these mass killings have been planned months before, even maybe years. I've been talking to the ghosts to try and gather all details, even the potentially useless ones. When our headmaster made us heads keep tabs on everyone, the killings stopped for a short amount of time. It was like the mastermind was creating a way to best us, to get past the "little inconvenience." It didn't take long for them to find the weak parts in the plan.
What we have got though, is that every single student killed has been a muggle-born. A classic case of an unfair stigma around the poor wizards and witches. They never were able to catch a break. Amelia, one of my close friends in the friend group. She's a muggle-born, hence the shaking of her hands. I've been keeping a closer eye on her, she doesn't leave my side. She comes on my patrols so I can keep her in my sights, with of course the permission of the teachers. There are only two times that I can not watch over her. Those two times are covered by my other friend Devyn, a pure-blood. She also helps keep her safe, not letting her go anywhere by herself. The two times are because she's in two different classes than I am. One of them being a study hall.
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"Professor, how will this class help us now? Reading teacups for predictions should be the least of our worries right now," a student at the back of the room exclaims.
"The said predictions could lead us to the future before it happens. Our worries lay exactly what will happen in the future. If anything, this is one of the most important classes we'll take this year," I say, continuing to read the teacup.
"Precisely, thank you. Now go back to studying, I'll be coming around to view your interpretations."
My tea leaves look more like a blob with a cross going through them. A weirdly shaped blob. I already know there is a cross, but what about the blob? I tried shaking it a little, looking at the leaves from different angles. I already crossed off a club, falcon, and the sun. It could be an acorn, but I see a slight hole in the blob.
Could it be...
"A skull that is." I jump at the sudden voice near my ear. My teacup almost falling from my grasp.
"Pardon, a what?"
She points towards two holes in the blob, one of them I just mentioned, "I saw you already found one hole, there's the other. How it's shaped could be a little difficult to see since the cross is through it, but it's there."
The professor takes the cup from my hand and lays it on her desk. Some of my classmates look at me in curiosity, but they soon lose interest and go back to their own tea leaves.
A cross and a skull, that sounds about right to how my school year is going so far. I scan my book to see exactly what they mean.
A skull, danger in your path.
A cross, trials and suffering.
"What d-did you find?" A Hufflepuff boy to my right asks.
I don't want to scare the poor boy, he's already frightened enough as it is. If my future got around to the school, everyone would start being concerned about me. I'll barely get any of my duties done if I didn't already get it taken away for my safety. Last thing I need right now is even more panic.
"Nothing much, the future is still a little foggy."
"That's, um, good. I couldn't really read mine either," he chuckles lightly, almost seemingly forced.
Our professor claps her hands together, "Class is dismissed, read up about your predictions if you haven't already. No homework today."
I gather my books and push in my chair. Right before I could reach the door where other students are waiting, the teacher stops me.
"I'll have to tell the headmaster about this, I shouldn't keep it a secret."
"No, please don't. If you must, only tell Albus. I can't have this messing anything up, I'll become vulnerable."
The professor looks around the room, her eyes wandering franticly. I'm sure I am asking a lot from her. I really need her to keep this a secret.
"Oh alright, you're my best student. I just would hate to see anything happen to you. I'm informing only Albus to see if he can keep an eye on you."
"Thank you so much, I swear I'll be careful." A huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. I can't be worrying about my future when I have to worry about everyone else's.
I leave the classroom and start heading to my next class. Potions have always been one of my favorite classes. Mixing a bunch of toxins into a pot is a specialty of mine. I'm quickly scanning the halls for any wanderers, making sure everyone is at class. My feet take me to Potions in a hurry. I don't want to miss much, trying to make the class as informational as possible.
"You shouldn't be running, you still have 3 minutes of checking the school."
It's always him, I even tried changing routes to avoid him. His idiotic smirk, thinking he actually did something. All he did is waste my time and train of thought.
"I'm allowed to run Riddle, it's not a rule. I already checked the halls I was assigned, did you?" I really have no energy for this.
Tom peers down at me, somehow still wearing that infamous smile. Eyes bright, filled with mischief and knowledge.
"I have, double-checked as well. I'm sure you only checked once. Such irresponsible actions, I still wonder how you nabbed the head-girl spot."
I choose not to answer, not giving in to his baiting. Does he think I'm that stupid? That easily bothered by a simple test of my patience.
"You could have just said you wanted to walk me to class Riddle. No need to be shy with me."
"Shy, a concept I would not know of. Might as well bring you to class, since I'm heading there myself. Wouldn't want you to be in danger, since you consistently prove you can't handle a simple check of the hallways."
"I told you Tom-"
"Once is not enough, you should know that by now," he interrupts me, feigning a sudden serious facade on.
We start heading towards Slughorn's room. I'm a little behind his figure. Mostly looking down to make sure I don't step over his feet and fall. He sometimes walks with me, very confusing if I may say. Hating my skills, probably still hates me. You can often find us arguing if we are ever partners in class together. The usual game we play, how many questions can we get right by the end of class. Last time he won by one point, my sour mood not helping the atmosphere.
"You look rested, more than me at least," I smile tiredly. My whole body slightly sagging forward from exhaustion. He looks as proper as someone could be. His skin is a little pale though, brighter than usual. Almost like he was sick, his eyes look darker too. More sunken in, the shape of his skull more prominent. His looks still annoyingly well presented.
"Yes, you do look rather tired. I see other things have prioritized above your looks."
This man, the audacity of this man. The only reason I'm not at the top of every class. Our number 1 student count being evenly split. I have to bite down on my tongue forcefully to not say anything back. I'm too tired to truly come back with anything witty, so I choose to save myself from the embarrassment. Instead, I slightly step on his robe on the ground causing him to trip up a little.
He quickly sends a warning glare my way and then continues walking. I smile slightly, knowing even if it was petty, it was worth it.
Riddle doesn't even hold the door for me when we walk in. Causing it to slam dangerously close to my face.
"There you two are, I was afraid you weren't going to make it," Slughorn exclaims excitedly. "Turn your textbooks to page 246, we are going to learn how to make a Polyjuice potion!"
I glance at Tom, his eyes only focus on the words before him not realizing my gaze is on him. I wonder if he'll make this a competition as well. Knowing him, as well as me, anything but competition is out of our character. He looks up catching my eyes, I tilt my head. Trying to silently communicate from afar.
His head turns to Slughorn, then back to me. He nods his head and that's all it takes for both of us to come to an understanding. Whoever can answer the most questions, and create the best potion gets bragging rights.
I don't intend to lose.
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all-by-a-dead-poet · 3 years ago
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AU where Todd is deaf
This got really long and really out of hand really fast, oh well
- Todd has been deaf since birth
- His parents figured it out when he was two
- They thought it was weird that he never reacted when someone said his name but looked up the second you walked into his line of sight
- So they went to a doctor, and he told them Todd was deaf
- Todd doesn’t really know anything about deaf culture
- His parents being who they are, they raised him in the hearing world and had him learn how to read lips and sent him to speech therapy
- They wanted him to be as “normal” as possible
- But Todd’s been bullied enough to know that he doesn’t speak quite the same as the other kids his age
- So he generally doesn’t speak and just carries a little notebook around with him for the times that it’s absolutely necessary for him to communicate
- Even though there’s not really anyone for him to sign with, his mother had him learn how
- She learned a little sign as well, and while she’s by no means fluent, she can hold a basic - albeit stilted - conversation
- Todd’s father knows none at all.  When his wife suggested he learn so he could communicate with his son a little more easily, he refused
- He said it would encourage Todd to sign more and speak less, and therefore be more “abnormal”
- Jeffrey knows a few basic signs that his mother taught him, but that’s it
- Todd both loves and hates being deaf
- He hates it because not being able to hear what anyone around him or his teachers are saying just makes his anxiety worse
- But he also loves it because it gives him an easy excuse not to talk to anyone
- He loves poetry because he feels like it’s the only way he can truly express himself without any barriers getting in the way
- Normally Welton wouldn’t accept a deaf student
- But since Todd’s older brother is The Jeffrey Anderson and his parents offer to “make a generous donation to the school”, they let him in
- When Todd first meets Neil, Neil just starts talking a mile a minute, and while Todd is relatively good at reading lips by now, it’s still a lot harder than most people think, and he can’t keep up with the explosive enthusiasm and boundless energy that is Neil Perry
- So he pulls out his little notebook, writes “I can’t hear you” and holds it up to Neil
- He assumes this will be enough to get Neil to shut up and leave him alone like everyone else does because they don’t want to put forth the effort to communicate with him
- Yeah, that’s not what happens
- In fact, it has the exact opposite effect, and Neil just gets even more excited
- He’s never met anyone deaf before and he thinks it’s just the coolest thing and he wants to know everything
- The other poets are also welcoming and accepting
- They all make a special effort to talk a little more slowly and clearly than they normally would when they’re with Todd.  They try to only talk one at a time and make sure that they’re facing him so he can read their lips and understand what’s going on
- They’re not perfect about it, but they’re trying, and that’s what counts
- But the person Todd feels most at ease with is Neil, there’s just something about him that makes Todd feel safe and truly seen for the first time in his life
- When Mr. Keating finds out Todd is deaf, he makes sure that he only speaks when he’s facing the class, and before every lesson, he types up a page of notes to give Todd to make sure he doesn’t miss anything
- He doesn’t want to single Todd out by having him be the only one who gets the notes, so he makes copies and gives them to everyone
- The first time Todd speaks in front of Neil, he expects him to laugh or at least react in some way to how he sounds “weird”
- But Neil just smiles and says he’s been wondering what Todd’s voice sounds like and that it’s beautiful
- Even though Todd and Neil have gotten into a pretty good rhythm when it comes to communication, Neil still wants to be able to have a conversation with him more freely
- So he decides to try and learn ASL to surprise Todd
- There’s not really anyone around who can teach him, though, so he gets a bunch of books out of the library and tries to learn that way
- But, as anyone who knows ASL will tell you, that really doesn’t work very well
- It’s very frustrating, but Neil keeps at it because he wants to do this for Todd
- He manages to keep it from him for a bit, only studying it when Todd’s asleep or not in the room
- But eventually he falls asleep on top of one of his books and Todd finds him that way in the morning
- When Neil wakes up, he’s all put out that Todd knows what he’s been up to now because he wanted it to be a surprise
- But Todd just tells him that he wouldn’t get very far with a book anyway and shyly offers to teach him
- Every night before bed, the two of them work on it together
- Neil’s a quick learner.  He already gestures with his hands a lot when he speaks, he’s very expressive that way, so signing just clicks easily for him
- But Neil still wants to do something to surprise Todd
- So he talks to the other poets and they decide to learn how to sign a poem
- Every day, beyond teaching them what to sign for the poem and practicing it, Neil teaches the other poets what Todd taught him the night before so that they’ll be able to sign things other than the poem as well
- When they finally feel like they're ready, they decide to have their next meeting a couple days earlier than originally planned because they just can’t stand to wait
- When they all stand up at once instead of just one of them, like usual, Todd’s taken aback and confused
- But then they all sign the poem for him in unison, and by the time they’re done, he’s about ready to cry
- The amount of effort and love they put into it is more than anyone’s ever shown him and it just hits him like a ton of bricks
- After that, the other poets join in the nightly ASL lessons as well
- Even though some of them pick it up faster than others, Todd’s incredibly patient with them all
- He knows what it’s like to have a teacher get upset with you because you don’t understand what they’re saying, and he never wants to make anyone feel the way he’s been made to feel
- Once Neil’s fluent enough, he starts signing along whenever he speaks, no matter the setting, so Todd won’t have to read his lips anymore
- That’s a little harder for him, since it can be difficult to do both at the same time, especially when you’re still learning, but he’s determined to do it anyway.  For Todd
- As the other poets improve, they follow his lead, signing when they speak too
- Mr. Keating actively encourages it, and even asks the boys if they would teach him as well, so he can sign while he gives lessons
- Of course, Mr. Nolan and some of the other teachers frown on the whole thing, and occasionally tell the boys not to do it if they think it’s getting too “blatant”
- But when have the poets ever let that stop them?
I might actually make this into a fic, idk, we’ll see
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wutroows · 4 years ago
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am i allowed (captain rex x reader)
pairing: captain rex x fem!reader (romantic), anakin x fem!reader (friendly)  warnings: pining. a lot of it. rex talking bad about himself  a/n: this idea came to my mind a few days ago and i thought it fit perfectly with rex, i just had to write something like this for him. 
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it was just a mission. a normal mission, he went on missions all the time with other jedi generals and their battalions, but as rex’s eyes finally met yours and your hand extended out to him with a kind smile on your lips, he felt a pang in his chest. your touch was so gentle, though he couldn’t feel your skin against the palm of his hand through the gloves he had on, the way you looked into his eyes said everything the touch would’ve. 
this mission wasn’t going to be normal. 
it was supposed to be. it was just a trip to another suffering world, meant to aid the people living their and to push the separatists out, like any other mission would be, but now you were there, giving him friendly glances and gentle touches whenever you’d put your hand on his shoulder as a form of encouragement. 
“you’re doing great, rex!” you said to him once. he felt his cheeks flush, but he quickly gathered himself and said “thank you” back to you, before finally letting himself indulge in how he was feeling.
was it love? it shouldn’t be. it was forbidden for you, and even if it wasn’t, why would you want to be with a clone? a man with a million copies of himself walking around. it didn’t make sense to him, so he never thought on his feelings. 
until you saved him. 
it was expected for grievous to show up, his presence on the world wasn’t going unnoticed. though, he would’ve never expected for a lightsaber to be swung at him at full speed, he shut his eyes, preparing for the end. 
until.
he heard a clash, “you okay, rex?” it was your voice, and somehow through the ringing he heard through his ears, your voice was loud and clear to him in his mind. “i’m.. okay.” as he opened his eyes, your (f/c) lightsaber was blocking the way of grievous’. if you hadn’t shown up in time, rex’s head would’ve come clean off of his body. he couldn’t help but shudder in disgust, but as you led grievous away, he felt his heart speed up. 
you saved him. him. out of thousands of others, you saved him. he felt his face warm, but as he turned around to find anakin, he couldn’t help but spare one last glance back at you. 
that was just when the feelings started.
was he allowed to look at you the way he was? to stare at you with unconditional love in his eyes, to want nothing more than to hold your hands and run his thumbs over your cheeks. was it wrong? he was just a soldier. you were a jedi. a soldier who had no future for him. he was born and bred for war. for dying. that’s what he was meant to do, to die for the republic. 
but if he didn’t?
if the war ended, and you actually returned the feelings he had for you. would it be okay to look at you the way he was then? 
after the mission you did with the 501st, you regularly started talking to rex. he was fun to be around, he was kind, and intelligent. and you loved the way he’d awkwardly scratch the back of his neck when he didn’t know what to say, and the way his face would flush whenever he was embarrassed. he was truly the cutest person you ever met, and you had planned to tell him just that.
the door to the high council meeting room slid open, and you nudged your shoulder against anakin’s. “excited to go on another mission with me, ani?” you teased, and you watched him as he rolled his eyes. “sure, as long as you don’t mess it up again.” you gasped, smacking his arm playfully, “hey! i didn’t mess it up, that was.. totally intentional.” you said, “i’m not even going on this mission for you, i’m going for your boys! i missed them!”
“all of them?” anakin chided, and you nodded. “all of em.” he raised an eyebrow, as if he didn’t believe you. you pursed your lips as you stared at him, “what’s that look for?” you could hear him laugh under his breath, until he stopped in his tracks. “everyone can see how close you and rex are. just say you’re in it for him and move on.” anakin said, and you felt your eyes widen. “see!” he pointed out, “shut up, skywalker. i love all of them, not just rex.”
“you love him! ha, he’s gonna love hearing that.”
“what?”
“oh— nothing. listen, i gotta go,” he pointed his thumb down the hallway that turned to the left, and you rolled your eyes, “i’m being completely serious!” anakin exclaimed, “yeah whatever, just go!” he turned on his heel with a mock salute towards you and ran off in the direction of the barracks. 
‘he’s gonna love hearing that’
hearing what? 
sighing softly, you stopped. this would not be a normal mission.
it wasn’t a normal mission. it never was with the 501st, the plan usually always went wrong with them and anakin or rex would make something up on the spot, and that’s exactly what had happened. the gunship shook at it lifted off the ground of the planet you were just fighting on. losses weren’t too heavy, but as the clone troopers around you took off their helmets, you could see the sorrow in their eyes as they mourned their fallen brothers. 
rex had sat across from you, and on the other side of him sat fives, talking to him about something, and then occasionally glancing up at you then back at him. you didn’t think much of it, and as the ship finally made it’s way back to the venator that had been orbiting the planet, you hopped out. 
as the clones followed after you, you gave them all pats on their shoulders meant for reassurance. smiles developed on their faces, and you couldn’t help but smile back. rex stepped out of the gunship last, and your eyes met his through the helmet he wore. “hey, rex.”
“general.”
“how many times have i told you, call me y/n. we’re friends, rex.”
“okay, general.”
you rolled your eyes, but you could hear the smile in his voice from under the helmet. his hands reached up, and pulled it off of his head. he held it under his arm, and you smiled as your eyes landed on the brown ones of his you cared for so much. his eyes seemed as if they had stars in them, or the whole galaxy, even. “come with me.” you told him, and he only nodded. 
you led him between troopers and fellow jedi alike, into the hallways of the venator and up to your personal barracks. the walk there was mainly silent, other than simple conversation. you had no idea if this would backfire on you or not, but if it did, your friendship with rex would go straight down the drain. the door opened, and you took a deep breath. 
clad in your jedi robes, you turned around. rex had sat his helmet on a table by your bed, and his head was tilted, almost like a loth-cat you’d seen before on a planet in the other rim, called lothal. his armor was covered in scratches and bullet holes from previous battles, but somehow, no matter how many times he’d get it fixed, it would end up looking the same as it did before. 
“i know this is.. probably out of the blue, but i just can’t keep this a secret from you anymore.” every ounce of confidence you had before suddenly slipped out of you as you said those words, your fingers awkwardly messing with each other in front of you. he stared at you, eyebrows furrowed. was he really that oblivious? “listen, i.. we’re pretty good friends, right? uh.. well, i just.. i really-” you stopped mid sentence, and pursed your lips. 
“general, are you okay?” you heard rex’s voice say, and you could only nod, afraid that if you spoke you’d embarrass yourself further. “this is.. uh, a lot harder than i thought it was going to be. listen, rex, i just.. ithinkihavefeelingsforyou.” you blurted out, squeezing your eyes shut, preparing for rejection. when nothing came, you opened your eyes. 
his mouth was opened, as if he were staring at the most beautiful thing in the galaxy. his eyes softened as he looked at you, and as he processed your words, a smile appeared across his lips. “me?” he asked, pointing a finger at himself hopelessly. “yes, rex.. you. it’s always been you.” you watched as his cheeks flushed a soft pink, contrasting against the tan of his skin. 
for a moment, the two of you stood, admiring each other. you admired how the sunlight came through the window and hit him perfectly, like it always did. you admired the brown eyes you’d found yourself staring at too often, and the smile he had on his lips, as he stared back at you. 
“why me?” he broke the silence. 
“because you’re.. you.”
“there are millions.. of people who look like me.”
“but none of them are you.” 
he went silent, and rushed forwards, scooping you up into his arms. his arms were wrapped around your waist and he lifted you off the ground a bit, squeezing you tightly. as he sat you down, you looked into his eyes. 
“it’s against my code, my life.. but for you, rex.. i’d do anything.” you muttered, and as his hand came up to cup your cheek, you felt yourself melt into his touch. 
you could get used to this.
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allthebooksandcrannies · 4 years ago
Text
Life With You Makes Perfect Sense (You're My Best Friend)
TimKon Fanfic
Read on AO3 or Read my other works here
For context: this takes place during the time when Stephanie Brown was Robin after Tim's dad figured out his identity and made him retire. In the comics, Conner finds this out by coming to Gotham to look for Tim when he fails to show up at Titan's Tower and bumping into Robin Steph. Batman refuses to give Conner Tim's address but tells him that he has all the same skills Superman has to find him himself. Conner tracks down Tim's voice and confronts him in his bedroom. In the comics, he ends up leaving and doesn't appear to hear from Tim again until he comes back to the Robin role. This fic takes place as a sort of "what-if" to fill in that missing time.
I took the dialogue in italics from the first and last scenes directly from my copy of the TPB Teen Titans: Beast Boys & Girls (2005), though the body language that goes with the dialogue and everything else in the fic is mine.
Title comes from Tim McGraw's "My Best Friend"
Tim woke up clinging to the whisps of a dream that fled from the screeching of his alarm. As he blinked himself back to consciousness, he grasped vainly for the subject of the dream and was left feeling inexplicably wistful.
His fumbling fingers managed to silence the alarm, but there was still the unfortunate matter of having to heave himself out of bed, his limbs feeling heavier and more uncooperative than they had in weeks. Apparently, all the extra sleep he’d been getting since he retired still wasn’t enough to make Monday mornings suck any less.
He pushed away the traitorous voice in the back of his head that suggested that maybe his exhaustion had something to do with his conversation with Conner the other night.
Conner had shown up unannounced and asking questions Tim hadn’t expected to have to answer again. “Why didn’t you show at the tower yesterday? And what’s with this new Robin? The girl?”
“Last week…” Tim paused, trying to decide how best to make Conner understand. “My dad found my costume. He found out I was Robin, and he went a little—” Tim paused, unsure, “—overboard. I’ve been wanting to tell him for months anyway.”
Conner turned his head towards where he could hear Jack moving around, easily locking onto his vitals. “He seems totally relaxed now. His heart rate is normal and—”
Tim glanced back at Conner nervously, but still refused to look at him head on. “I quit.”
“You what?” Conner exclaimed.
“I’m not Robin anymore. I gave it up.”
“Why?” Conner couldn’t wrap his mind around what he was hearing.
Tim tried to explain, needing Conner to understand. His approval felt vital in that moment. “I never liked living two lives. I never planned on doing it for this long. And I never wanted to lie to my dad. Now I don’t have to anymore.”
Conner shook his head in denial. “Come on. You can’t do this to the Titans. That girl isn’t… She’s not Robin.”
Tim wanted to stop thinking about that night, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t. The look on Conner’s face when Tim told him he wasn’t coming back to the Titans, how Conner refused to meet Tim’s eyes when he talked about how much he and the other Titans needed Tim, not just Robin. All of it. After all, what right did Conner have to come in and tell Tim how to live his life? Conner was born into this, he didn’t have a Before to compare the hero life to. He didn’t understand what it was like to be torn between two halves of himself.
At that thought, Tim paused about halfway through pulling on a shirt, and immediately felt guilty for even thinking it. Conner had just found out he was half Lex Luthor after all. He was probably the only person Tim knew who would understand exactly how Tim felt being stuck between his Dad and Bruce since the truth came out.
Tim pulled the shirt on the rest of the way with a mental sigh. He wasn’t really mad at Conner. Things had changed really quickly, and the other boy had made a lot of good points. As he ran through the rest of his morning routine, Tim’s mind continued its highlight reel.
“Let it go.”
“You’re my best friend, Tim. How can I? The Titans aren’t the Titans without Robin. They just aren’t.”
“Just because I’m not wearing a cape doesn’t mean we can’t hang.”
For the first time since Tim had explained his motivation, Conner finally met his eyes again. The resignation there made Tim’s throat tighten. “It won’t be the same. I’ve heard that from too many friends. Friends I never talk to anymore.”
And Conner wasn’t wrong. When was the last time he had talked to Cissie? Sure, he still got the occasional update on what she was up to from Cassie on Titans weekends, but that wasn’t the same. It was so easy to lose touch with people who left the hero game. Hell, he hadn’t even spoken to Dick since he quit, and they had supposedly been brothers.
Conner had every right to be worried. But what else was he supposed to do? There was nothing else he could have done to protect everyone’s identities, and it wasn’t like his Dad was about to let him go to group hangouts with a bunch of superteens.
Tim mulled it over as he mechanically choked down a bowl of cereal. His dad had been pretty adamant about the no contact thing, and Tim was trying to be the respectful son his dad deserved. But Conner wasn’t something Tim was willing to sacrifice for his new mission. Besides, what was the harm in just staying touch, it’s not like he was putting himself in danger.
Still, it was probably better safe than sorry. If he got his hands on a computer at school, it wouldn’t be hard to track down the Kents’ phone number. Then it was just a matter of waiting for Dad and Dana to be out long enough for him to have sole access to the landline.
Yeah, Tim thought as he threw his bowl and the sink and headed out to catch his bus, that would work. It would be enough. It had to. Tim just wished he didn’t feel like he was betraying his dad all over again.
-0-
If anyone could read his mind right now, they would be impressed by the amount of self-restraint Conner was exercising to control his strength as well as he was despite how frustrated he was. Unfortunately, poor Lottie the Cow could not read his mind, and, unlike Krypto, she wasn’t hiding any secret Kryptonian powers of her own.
After the third time he used just a tad too much pressure in his attempts to milk her and she shied away from him yet again, he had to concede defeat. As he swapped out with Pa (who was all too willing to pass off the stall mucking), Conner let himself feel the indignation he hadn’t been able to get out of his head since he spoke to Tim.
It just wasn’t right! Anyone with eyes could see how much Tim loved being Robin. Conner knew how much pride he took in being able to hold his own against some of the most powerful people on the planet. How Tim’s heartrate still sped up with excitement every time he swung off a building or when he flew with Conner.
His dad wanted him to be normal so bad? What was more normal than a teen managing to sneak out without their guardian knowing or taking their dad’s car out for a joyride with their friends. So what if the car was a Batmobile or if the adult he was sneaking past was a Tamaranean princess?
And the worst part was that he wasn’t even mad at Tim, not really. Sure, he had been pissed in the moment, but mostly he was just hurt. They had all finally gotten back to normal, and now Tim was leavingagain. It just wasn’t fair. Conner just wanted his best friend back, but every time they got over one hurdle another one showed up. And this was something Conner couldn’t punch.
“If you shovel any harder, you’re going to snap the end off again.”
Conner whirled around, barely managing not to break the poor tool in his surprise. Martha just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, a full basket of chicken eggs resting on her hip. “You want to tell me what’s eating you?”
Conner didn’t meet her eyes, just grabbed the now full bucket of manure to take it to the compost. “It’s nothing, Aunt Martha.”
Her brow wrinkled in concern, which was not what Conner had wanted at all. She took another moment, clearly choosing her words carefully. “Well… I know you don’t owe me your thoughts son, and I don’t pretend to know what it’s like to do what you and Clark do.” She started walking alongside Conner before continuing. “But I have raised one Kryptonian and I can listen with the best of them. So, if you need to get something off your chest…”
Dumping the bucket into the compost, Conner almost refused out of habit. Instead, he hesitated, casting his eyes to the side as he grasped for an answer. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. “It’s kinda a long story…” the note of disappointment in his voice seemed to surprise both of them. Martha didn’t miss a step as she steered them back towards the house. She too glanced at the rising sun and then sent Conner an appraising look. “hmmm… School is important. It would be a shame if you had woken up ill this morning and couldn’t attend.”
Conner felt himself gaping like a fish as he followed her inside.
-0-
Tim was pretending not to notice Dana hovering when the doorbell rang.
And wasn’t that a fun situation. Tim wasn’t quite sure how much Dana knew. He knew his dad hadn’t told her about Robin, as per the arrangement. But he wasn’t sure what story she’d been given instead, or, more likely, if she’d just been left to draw her own conclusions.
Regardless, she clearly knew Tim had been hiding something because she had been acting strangely ever since. Making excuses to keep him in view, asking much more probing questions about his day and who he was spending it with, checking out parenting books on “troubled teens.”
She hadn’t said anything to Tim about whatever it was she thought was going on, but she had always been over-protective of Tim. Sure it could occasionally cross over into infantilizing, but, after a lifetime of people only worrying about Tim’s wellbeing when it affected them, it was kinda nice to have a parent care so openly.
Still, this was starting to get ridiculous. It wasn’t like he was running a drug empire from the kitchen table, and writing an English essay while someone keeps sneaking glances at you while cleaning the stovetop wasn’t exactly easy.
So, the doorbell was a welcome distraction.
While Dana rose to answer the door, Tim tried to focus back on his paper, as if he could make it write itself with the force of his glare. However, there was no amount of effort that would ever keep him from recognizing that voice.
He was at the door before he even realized he’d made the decision.
“—don’t know why he didn’t mention it, ma’am, we made these plans last week.”
“Well, I don’t know if I’m really comfortable with letting you boys go without clearing it with Jack fir—"
Tim peeked around Dana’s shoulder to see Conner Kent, glasses and all, staring up at his stepmom with an almost comically earnest expression. “Dana?”
She glanced back at Tim, not letting go of the half-open door. “Your friend—”
“Conner,” the boy in question supplied helpfully.
“Right,” she said with a forced smile, “Your friend, Conner, was just telling me that you two made plans to get together to study tonight? Tim, honey, you know your Dad wants you to let him know before you make plans to go out with people we don’t know.”
Tim did know. It was one of many new rules that his dad had decided to implement after he found his Robin gear. The restrictions chafed, but, as his dad pointed out, he definitely deserved the lack of trust at this point.
But when he caught the cocky “play along” grin over Dana’s shoulder, Tim stomach filled with warmth at the familiarity. He quickly schooled his expression into an appropriately sheepish smile. “Sorry Dana, I guess it just slipped my mind.”
Dana softened, her grip on the door slackening just a tad.
“If it helps, Mrs. Drake,” Conner broke in, “we can just study here.”
Tim wondered if Conner had learned the earnest and polite young man routine from watching Clark or if it was just natural talent. Either way it was enough for Dana, leading her to relax and open the door completely.
“Oh, that would be perfect! Tim, honey, why don’t you get you and your friend set up at the table? Will you be staying for dinner, Conner? We’re having Chinese tonight, and it’d be no problem to order an extra serving.”
“That would be great, Mrs. Drake!”
Dana headed back towards the kitchen, presumably looking for the takeout menus, leaving Tim and Conner in awkward silence. Tim decided to break the tension first.
“I’m sorry, Conner, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I know you were just trying to help.”
“Wait, that’s supposed to be my line! I’m sorry, Tim. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t think you could make your own decisions.”
“So, still friends?”
“Please! You didn’t think I’d come all the way to Gotham to ditch you now, did you?”
“Why did you come? If that was it, why not just come in the window?”
Conner shifted his weight, hand tightening minutely around the strap of the backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Well, I was talking to Ma earlier, and she helped me realize that even if Robin can’t hang out with Superboy, that doesn’t mean Conner Kent can’t spend time with Tim Drake.” He looked up from his shoes, his blue eyes putting the Gotham sky to shame. “That is… if it’s okay with you?”
If you had asked Conner, Tim’s answering grin could have lit up even the darkest Gotham alley.
-0-
Fifteen minutes later found Tim and Conner side by side at the kitchen table, various homework from various subjects strewn out about. Leaning over under the guise of checking Conner’s math, Tim murmured under his breath for only Conner to hear: “So Conner Kent wears flannel now?”
Conner snorted. “I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing they sell in Smallville,” he whispered back. “Why? You a fan?”
“To be honest… I miss the leather,” he replied thoughtlessly.
“Is that so?” Tim realized what he’d said out loud a moment too late. “I guess I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he smirked.
“Oh, shut up,” Tim replied with a little shove that did absolutely nothing but prompt Conner to break out into full body laughter so loud it drew Dana in from the living room to see what was going on.
When she found a blushing Tim whispering back furiously and sending her embarrassed looks, she let out a chuckle of her own before leaving them to it. She had a good feeling about this kid.
-0
It quickly became routine for Conner to come by after school to do homework a few days a week. Tim had worried that it might have been getting Conner in trouble, but Conner had assured him that he had worked things out with ‘Ma so that he still got all his chores done in spite of the extra hours he was putting in Gotham. And as for Batman, well, if he didn’t want him coming to Gotham to see Tim, he shouldn’t have told him how to find him.
And at least he wasn’t dangling the latest Robin in mid-air anymore.
Whether by fate or weird coincidence, however, he still hadn’t managed to run into Jack Drake while he was monopolizing his son’s time yet. The first night Conner stayed for dinner had ended with them all waiting for half an hour after the food arrived before Jack remembered to call and let Dana know he would be working late. It wasn’t the last time either. And the nights he did come home for dinner were the nights where Conner had already planned to head home early to have dinner with his own family.
Not to say Conner minded. He had some thoughtsabout Jack Drake and the way he treated his son. It was probably better for everyone that Conner spent as little time with the man as possible.
But there was only so long that could last, especially since Tim was practically dying to get out of the house for more than just school or Jack’s father-son excursions.
Unfortunately, as time went on Jack had only gotten more paranoid about where Tim was going and what he was doing, not less. Lately, Tim was practically on lockdown since it was such a pain to get permission to go anywhere without his dad or Dana. The last time he had gone out to the diner with Bernard and Darla his Dad had “just happened” to stop by for a to-go coffee. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he had been making sure Tim really was where he said he was.
His only saving grace was Dana. While she still enforced his dad’s rules (apparently not wanting to undermine his parenting), Tim had overheard her arguing on his behalf with his dad on multiple occasions, insisting that Tim was a good kid who had earned a little bit of freedom. Granted, these conversations rarely accomplished much besides getting Jack to dismiss her concerns as a lack of understanding due to not having children of her own. Still, Tim appreciated the support. Particularly since Dana had clearly decided that she liked Conner and essentially left them to their own devices while they were “studying.”
Now in addition to actually doing their homework, they were able to spend time talking about the rest of their lives, especially the normal civilian stuff they never seemed to have time for during Titans weekends. Everything from friendships, to TV shows, to their relationships with their parents was fair game. Tim had felt like he knew Conner before, but this was a whole new level. And the more he learned, the more he wanted to know.
And that’s why he had recruited Dana.
It hadn’t been hard. For once in his life, being completely honest with an authority figure about what he wanted was enough. It probably shouldn’t have felt as weird as it did.
Dana had given him a strange look when he mentioned he wanted to hang out with Conner outside of studying, but she had agreed that she didn’t see a problem with it. After all, if his father was alright with him spending time with Bernard (who Dana knew firsthand was not exactly the best of influences) then surely he would be okay with Tim spending more time with “a nice young man” like Conner. He just needed to meet him first.
It would be fine. Probably.
And that was how the two of them had ended up setting the dining table while Dana put the finishing touches on what she assured Tim was Jack’s favorite meal.
“Dude, you’ve got to take a breath,” Conner whispered as he reached around Tim. “I’ve heard your heart beat slower going up against literal mercenaries.”
Tim snorted. “I’ll take Deathstroke over this any day.”
“Hey now,” he shot back with a scandalized hand to his chest, “I’ll have you know I am delightful company!”
Tim’s futile attempts at a mock glare were interrupted when he could no longer hold back the urge to giggle at the absurdity of the situation. He could go up against the worst the world had to offer without thinking twice, but the idea of his dad and his best friend in the same room had him on the verge of a panic attack.
He shot Conner a grateful smile. “I just really need this to go well.”
Conner slung a careless arm around Tim’s shoulder but spoke with a level of seriousness he rarely let people see. “And it will, I promise. We make a good team, remember? We can handle this.”
Tim nodded and drew in some deep breaths to calm his racing pulse. Conner didn’t say anything else, just let him take the minute he needed. Just as Tim had gotten a hold of himself and was about to gently shrug off Conner’s arm, Conner pulled away of his own accord with a parting squeeze of Tim’s shoulder.
“He’s here,” he explained, gesturing to the front door with his chin as he finished off the last place setting.
Sure enough, a moment later Tim heard the telltale click of a key in a lock. There was a very slight possibility that his breathing may have quickened again just a bit if the bemused look Conner sent him was any indication.
Tim most definitely did not stick his tongue out at his friend before heading to the entryway to take his dad’s coat.
Conner and his snicker followed a beat behind Tim. When Jack’s gaze finally landed on Conner, Conner felt his spine straighten involuntarily. Jack didn’t say anything at first, and in the stretching silence Conner felt himself trying to channel every bit of the big blue boy scout he had in him.
Jack’s eyes cast over every bit of Conner’s appearance, from his glasses to his button up to his clean but scuffed sneakers. Conner was uncomfortably reminded of being a literal lab specimen under observation.
Suddenly, Jack’s expression morphed into a charming smile Conner didn’t trust for an instant. He stuck out a hand, and Conner was so caught off guard by the sudden transition that he almost forgot to shake it.
“You must be Tim’s friend. Carter, right?”
“Er—”
“It’s Conner, Dad.”
Jack waved Tim’s correction away. “Right, right, Conner then.” He started walking off to the living room, clearly expecting them to follow. “Dana tells me that you’ve been coming over to study quite a bit lately. I hope your grades have seen a better uptick than Tim’s have.”
Conner sent a questioning glance Tim’s way but didn’t get a response other than the visible tension in the other boy’s jaw.
“Not really sure what the point of a study group is if it doesn’t actually raise your grades any,” Jack continued.
Assuming that the biting comment was rhetorical and feeling supremely awkward, Conner didn’t respond right away. But as the three of them each pulled up a chair, Jack’s impatient expression clued Conner in on the fact that he was actually supposed to answer.
“Er…yes sir. I’ve been really lucky to have Tim’s help getting caught up.”
Jack was saved from responding beyond a noncommittal hmm by Dana’s arrival with the food. As she placed the casserole dish of what looked like enchiladas on the table, Dana gave them all a forced smile.
“And it’s been so nice getting to know one of Tim’s friends, Conner.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Drake.”
“So how did you and Tim start hanging out?” Jack questioned absently.
They had prepped for this question. Conner used the opportunity to launch into an overdramatic retelling of a group project they had worked on together and how they realized that they worked well together. Like all the best lies, it included just enough details not to be suspicious while still having a kernel of truth.
His story succeeded in breaking the ice enough to get conversation started, and Conner felt himself relaxing. He had meant what he said to Tim earlier, but he didn’t exactly meet that many new civilians. But Tim had prepared him well, and this wasn’t his first undercover op. He skillfully navigated around dangerous truths and gave the performance of his life as the perfect All-American teen.
Maybe he should have felt guilty about lying to these people who had opened their home to him. Clark probably would have had something to say about it. After all, on paper Jack had every right to be upset. His son had literally been throwing himself in front of bullets for strangers for years behind his back. Not only that, but he’d been doing it alongside another adult he had trusted to have his son’s best interests at heart. Surely any good parent would have been just as upset, right?
But Conner was very aware that Jack Drake was not the parent he believed himself to be.
Good parents didn’t ship their kid off to boarding schools from the minute he was old enough to attend, and then never show up for the few weeks their kid is home.
Good parents don’t look at everything that makes you you and try to sand it away so that you’ll fit some perfect ideal they have in their head of what you should be.
Good parents don’t look at the emotional scars and bruises they’ve given to their child and tell them that its their own fault for making them do this, for not being enough or for being too much.
Jack Drake may not have laid a hand on his son, but he’d still done plenty of damage, and Conner was forced to watch Tim thank him for it.
So, no. Conner didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for lying to the man who constantly left his favorite person more confused and conflicted than any mystery Batman had ever handed to him.
Tim may not realize that he deserved better yet, but that was alright. Conner would flatter and charm and play meek and responsible without feeling a single thing if it made Tim’s life easier.
As the conversation shifted to what was new with Dana’s sister and her kids, Conner met Tim’s eyes again. Tim subtly tipped his glass approvingly toward Conner, and Conner sent back an answering wink.
Well, he corrected internally, maybe he’d feel one thing after all.
-0
Gotham wasn’t exactly known for its tourist attractions. It was kind of a risky financial decision to try to open anything that encouraged a lot of people to congregate in a city where crowds drew Rogues like killer moths to a flamethrower. And that went double for anything that could be construed as children’s entertainment.
Luckily, Gothamites were both stubborn and spiteful, so there were a few places, like the traveling carnival currently set up near the harbor, that popped up every now and then with that brilliant fuck you energy that so clearly defined the city.
After last week’s dinner got off to its admittedly awkward start, Conner had hit his stride. Seamlessly switching between the perfect “aw shucks, me?” smile when asked a question about himself and then an earnest “tell me more about…” to turn the conversation back to Jack’s interests, Conner would have earned even the Batman’s reluctant approval.
By the end of the night, Jack was riding the high of getting to speak about himself to a willing audience for so long. It was all too easy to get Jack’s permission for Tim to hang out with Conner outside the house… as long as he still made sure to call and check in on the hour, of course.
Tim hadn’t hesitated to get them tickets for the second night the carnival was in town (not wanting to tempt a Rogue’s attack on the first), and the night had finally arrived.
Now, sharing a seat on the ferris wheel with the other teen, Tim couldn’t understand why he’d been so worried. He’d always been the first to insist that there was so much more to Conner than people gave him credit for.
Tim found himself glancing at Conner out of the corner of his eye. Luckily, the other boy was too busy leaning over the railing to watch the sun set behind the city skyline.
Most people looked at Superboy and saw a brash, arrogant, and (if he was lucky) comical teenager. They dismissed him as the brawn to other Titans’ brains. They couldn’t understand how he could be so different from Superman.
Tim knew better than that. Sure, he could be all those things, but what teenager wasn’t? Especially considering all the shit the authority figures in his life had put him through. And yeah, he was funny too.
But Conner was also a damn good friend. He was loyal and brave and empathetic and fiercely protective of the people who had earned his respect. He paid attention to people, and he cared so deeply, even though he tried to cover it up with nonchalance and a confident façade. He might be bulletproof, but Tim would protect that vulnerability he saw until the day he died.
“Alright. Where’d you go?”
Pulled back into the moment rather suddenly, Tim was startled, but he didn’t have to worry about coming up with a suitably mysterious response here. “What?”
Conner snorted and raised one hand to slide his sunglasses just far enough down the bridge of his nose that he could meet Tim’s eyes.
“You’re looking at me weird. What’s up?”
As Tim tried to decide how to answer in a way that wasn’t completely cheesy, the ferris wheel paused again, this time with the two of them at the very top.
“I just—I’m just really glad you’re here. Thanks for coming to Gotham.” He didn’t just mean today either. He meant all of it. The first time he came to find out why Robin wasn’t at the tower, the time he showed up at Tim’s door even what would have chased anyone else away, and every other time they had hung out since.
He didn’t have to specify that though. The blinding smile that broke out over Conner’s face made it clear the message was received.
Conner took a moment, trying to school his expression into something a little smoother, but it was a lost cause. Eventually he just settled for clearing his throat. “You don’t have to thank me, Tim. There’s no place I’d rather be. Besides,” he continued as he casually threw an arm across the back of Tim’s seat, “everyone knows Gotham has the best sunsets.”
His heart pounding, Tim took a deep breath and let himself sink into Conner’s side. For a second, Conner stiffened and Tim worried that he’d made a horrible mistake, that he’d ruined everything.
It was only when he felt the comforting weight of Conner’s arm move from the seat to wrap around Tim’s shoulders, pulling him closer, that Tim let himself believe that this could be okay. They could have this.
The leather of Conner’s jacket was cool against the side of Tim’s face. The sky was a brilliant mess of golds and reds and purples. And Tim was with the person who made him feel safer and more himself than anyone else on the planet.
“Yeah, I suppose we do, don’t we?”
-0
That evening, Tim sat down on his bed, pulling his camera out of his bag. He was looking forward to developing them. Maybe he’d give Conner a few of the shots if they were any good.
knock knock
Tim looked up to see Dana leaning up against the doorframe she had knocked on.
“Hey, Honey. Did y’all have a good time?”
Tim couldn’t have held back the smile if he’d tried. “Oh yeah, it was awesome!”
Dana smiled back just as warmly. “Oh, I’m so glad!” Tim believed her. That was the best thing about Dana, she was one of the most genuine people he knew, and for some reason Tim couldn’t fathom, she had always seemed to care so much about Tim.
“Do you mind if I come in, sweetheart? There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about…”
-0
“I swear to god I used to be good at keeping secrets,” Tim groaned as he allowed his head to thunk dramatically against the diner table.
Conner didn’t look up from his menu, but he did use his TTK to save their waters from tipping over. “Sure you were,” he deadpanned.
“I was literally trained in deception and resistance to interrogation by one of the best detectives in the world.”
“Yup.”
“She still doesn’t know I was Robin. Neither of them have made the very obvious connections between you and a certain Boy of Steel for some reason.
“It’s the glasses.”
“It is not the glasses.”
“It is,” he said. “Conner Kent wears glasses, and Superboy doesn’t. Therefore, obviously different people.” His forehead crinkled. “Do you think a sweet potato milkshake would be any good?”
“It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten.” Tim squinted back up suspiciously from where he was still sprawled on the table. “Also, I feel like you are not being nearly sympathetic enough to my plight.”
Conner finally gave up the pretense of looking at the menu and dropped his chin to rest on his hands on the tabletop, so his face was only a few inches from Tim’s long-suffering expression.
Unfortunately for Tim’s dignity, Conner’s crooked grin was infectious. “How long did it take her to figure it out?”
“Ugh, she apparently she knew the minute she saw me, but at least she promised not to tell Dad.”
Conner snickered.
“Don’t laugh! She tried to give me the talk, Conner!”
That just sent Conner into full-body cackles. Tim watched him throw his head back and couldn’t help but feel proud. He did that. But he wasn’t done pouting yet either. It was the principle of the thing, after all.
“Sorry—” Conner gasped, “Sorry babe!” He leaned forward to place a kiss to Tim’s forehead, reveling in the way his boyfriend blushed so immediately. “You can hide just about anything else, sure, but you’ve got absolutely no poker face when you’re happy.”
Tim grumbled good naturedly like the absolute gremlin he was before finally deciding to sit up when a rather unimpressed waitress stopped by to take their order.
When she walked off, Conner turned back to Tim, casually taking one of Tim’s hands in his as though they weren’t both still completely in awe of this new development.
“So…” Conner started. “You were supposed to get together with your Wizards & Warlocks friends over the weekend, right? How’d that go?”
Tim’s eyes lit up as he started telling Conner about the most recent developments to their current campaign. Conner did his best to make sense of all of the characters and jargon he had no reference for, since it clearly meant a lot to Tim. Though that was made a little trickier by how much fun he was having just watching Tim.
He rarely got to see him so animated, due to the expectations constantly heaped on Robin and Tim Drake alike. When talking about something he enjoyed, however, Tim came alive. So, Conner listened, asking real questions that sparked off another tangent every time he started running out of steam.
Conner wondered if Tim’s eyes had always sparkled that much when they were hidden behind a mask. He didn’t think so, but either way he was just grateful Tim trusted him enough to let him see.
-0
“So then Ives—oh, Dana, can you pass the bread? thanks—Ives ended up rolling a Nat 20 on persuasion, which completely messed with my pla—”
“Alright, alright, I’m about tapped out on Witches & Wizards—” Jack interrupted, his hands raised in a timeout gesture.
“Jack!” Dana admonished.
“It’s actually Wizards & Warlocks, Dad.”
“Whatever it’s called! There’s only so much of this I can hear before my brain rots.”
Tim forced an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Dad.”
Jack waved away the apology with his buttered roll. “Forget about it. Hey, how’s your school’s basketball team this year? I was thinking we would go to the game this Friday, just the two of us.”
“Oh,” Tim said, “I don’t really know. Umm… what time is the game? Because I already made plans to go see a movie with Conner on Friday before he has to go away for the weekend for some family stuff.”
Jack frowned and Tim found himself straightening up involuntarily. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with that Conner kid. What’s up with that?” he asked accusatorily.
Wary of stumbling into a trap he couldn’t see, Tim tried to feign a casualness he didn’t feel. “I don’t know, I guess I just realized we have a lot in common, but I hang out with a lot of people. Why do you ask?”
This apparently wasn’t enough for Jack because he didn’t let it go, even putting his fork down so he could make sure his full attention was on Tim. “You don’t though! You almost never talk about Bernard anymore, or that Darla girl! The wizards thing was weird enough, but now if it’s not that then it’s Conner this or Conner that! If you’re not careful, you’re gonna give people the wrong idea about the two of you.”
The tightening in Tim’s throat would have been painful if it weren’t for the numbness he felt sinking into his bones.
“And now you’re suddenly too good to hang out with your dad anymore? I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m concerned about the person you’re becoming lately.”
“No! No, Dad it’s not like that—”
Tim looked at a wide-eyed Dana desperately for help. Ever ready to defend Tim when he needed, Dana didn’t disappoint.
“Oh, Jack, honey,” she laughed a little too loudly, “leave the poor boy be. He’s a good kid, and it’s healthy for a teenage boy to want to spend more time with his friends! I don’t see the harm in it. Honestly, shouldn’t we be proud of him for honoring his commitments?”
Jack’s glare was as hard as steel and just as cold. “Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t be proud of. I think I know how to parent my son.”
Dana broke eye-contact first, and Jack seemed to be the only one immune to the rising tension. Eventually he paused his meal consideringly. “Though I suppose you do have a point, Dana. Tim and I will just have to go to the next game, hmm?”
Grateful for the out, Tim nodded quickly. “Sounds great, Dad.”
-0
Tim had been looking forward to seeing this movie since he’d seen the first preview, but he hadn’t been paying attention at all for the last ten minutes. Oh well, he could come back and watch it again later, maybe with the guys in his W&W group.
In the meantime, it was definitely worth the sacrifice. Kissing Conner in the back row of the theatre, Tim had never felt more like a normal teenager in his life. This might be just as fun as running over rooftops.
-0
Conner swung Tim’s hand back and forth between them as they walked, feeling a bit like a little kid. Most people probably would have been on edge walking through the streets of Gotham right after sunset, but most people weren’t literally bulletproof.
As it was, Conner would have been content to stay out there all night if it meant he got to keep holding Tim’s hand while he chattered about the photos he had taken on their last outing to the botanical gardens and how they had turned out. Conner had learned more about camera lenses in the last ten minutes than he had in his life, and he was loving it.
Unfortunately, the Titans would be expecting him in an hour or so, and Tim’s dad would probably take exception to his son being out all night under mysterious circumstances. So, it was with a heavy sigh that Conner finally arrived at the Drake’s brownstone.
The boys came to a stop before reaching the front steps, neither ready for the night to end. Conner leaned forward to press his forehead to rest against Tim’s.
“You know,” he whispered, “I know I said I wanted Robin to come back to the Titans —and don’t get me wrong, I would still love that— but I’m also kinda loving having you all to myself.”
Tim chuckled and when that laugh turned into a crooked grin that made Conner’s stomach flutter, he couldn’t resist kissing it back off.
WHAM
Tim and Conner jumped apart as the door to the brownstone slammed open. Jack glared down at them.
“Tim. Get in this house, right now.” When Tim hesitated to move, Jack’s tone only grew even more demanding. “I said get in this house Timothy Jackson Drake.”
The sound of his full name seemed to spark Tim back to life, as he scrambled back towards the house. Conner gently caught one of Tim’s hands just before he was out of reach, and the other boy looked at him like a started deer.
“Do you want me to…” Conner trailed off with a meaningful hand wave at the side of his head. Do you want me to listen in, he was asking.
Tim thought about it for a second before shaking his head. “But maybe don’t go far?”
Conner nodded decisively before meeting Jack’s hateful gaze defiantly for just a moment. He shoved his fists into his jacket pockets before storming off to the corner. As soon as he was out of view, however, he took advantage of Gotham’s perpetual lighting problem to fly up to the roof of the house next to Tim’s, ready to be there the minute Tim needed him.
He settled in to wait, trying to focus on anything but the shouting coming from the Drake residence.
It was probably took longer than it should have for Conner to realize he wasn’t alone, but, hey, he was distracted. Sue him.
“You can come out. I can hear your heartbeat.”
Black Bat unfurled from where she had blended perfectly into the shadows cast by the air-conditioning unit.
“What are you doing here?” Conner asked.
Cass joined him in sitting on the edge of the roof to watch the brownstone. “A while ago…there was a killer…hunting the last robin. I still check in.”
“Every night?”
“No…but most nights.”
Conner considered that for a moment. “So, I’m guessing you saw…?”
“Yes.” Conner thought he could detect a playful edge to her voice. “You are not very subtle.” Okay, no, he was definitely being teased.
trying to play along, he bumped her shoulder with his own. “Well, we can’t all be bat-level sneaky. The universe couldn’t take it. Some of us have to be showy enough to balance the rest of you out.”
Cass hummed consideringly. “That’s fine. Batman will… train it out of you.”
Conner let himself fall back dramatically in mock horror, and Cass giggled. The sound did not match the mask at all, but somehow the juxtaposition seemed fitting for a member of the bat family.
“It’s how he shows his love, promise.”
Conner smiled, the tension of the moment briefly eclipsed by the mental image of the Batman trying to mother-hen a super. Clark would never let him live it down.
Suddenly, movement drew his eye, and Conner saw Tim. Ready to hear the verdict, Conner rose to fly back down.
“Thanks,” he turned to say, only to find himself met with an empty roof.
Bats, man.
-0
Tim followed Jack into the house, his heart pounding so hard Clark could probably hear it in Metropolis. His lips and fingers felt weirdly tingly before going slightly numb. His brain was going a million miles an hour but his body just felt slightly distant.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen at all. He wasn’t ready for this, it was supposed to be on his terms. But it was happening and it was happening now.
Jack stormed into the living room where Dana was half-risen in concern. She froze at the thunderous expression on his face as Jack being to pace the room like a caged lion. Meanwhile, Tim was a stone statue standing just in the room’s entrance. He felt a little bit like one of the artifacts his parents had brought back as souvenirs from their travels, just another relic meant to show off to friends that just ended up cluttering an empty house. And were Tim’s ears ringing?
“What the fuck did I just see, Tim?!” Jack burst out.
“Dad, I—”
“Don’t you fucking dare try to talk yourself out of this. Do you think I’m some kind of idiot?!”
“No! Of cour—”
“Jack, honey, whatever this is about, maybe we—”
Dana’s attempts to calm Jack only seemed to enrage him more, and she was cut off by the CRASH that came from Jack pitching one of her vases across the room. She froze, her eyes darting between Tim and Jack.
“Do you want to tell her what you’ve been doing behind our backs, Tim, or should I?”
“I—Conner and I--We” Tim sputtered unintelligibly, but Dana got the gist. She closed her eyes for a moment too long in sympathy, and Jack’s fury turned on her in an instant.
“You knew? You knew what was happening, and you didn’t put a stop to it?”
“Jack! There’s nothing wro…”
Her voice trailed off as Jack stalked closer and closer to her chair until he towered over her. She shrunk down. Jack leaned down over her and braced himself on the arms of the chair, effectively trapping his wife.
“Do you even care about what this could do to us?” His voice had gone low and picked up a dangerous quality that reminded Tim of the way Batman spoke to criminals he interrogated. But Tim had never been afraid of Batman.
He went on, his head tilted mockingly. “Or, are you just too stupid and selfish to realize how this reflects back on me?”
And, as he watched Dana start to shake, something in Tim snapped.
He was across the room in an instant, wrenching Jack’s arm behind his back so that he was forced to step back and turn around to keep it from breaking. The second Jack let go of Dana’s chair, Tim shoved him stumbling in the opposite direction.
“Leave her alone.”
Jack spun back around. “Did you just shove me?” he asked in pure outrage.
Tim’s chin raised defiantly. “I told you I could, didn’t I?”
At the reminder of the night Jack found out about Robin, Jack’s face twisted back into something ugly.
“So what?! I risk my life to save you from those freaks the first time, and this is the thanks I get? How the hell is anyone supposed to take me seriously when my son is—”
“I didn’t ASK you to save me, Dad!” Tim shouted. Years and years of bottling his resentment and frustration had led to an inevitable explosion, and Tim didn’t care who got burned. “I loved being Robin, I loved getting to help people, and getting to show what I can do. I worked so hard to earn Robin, and I gave it up to make you happy and I still can’t do anything right for you. I am so sick of pretending to be someone I’m not in the hopes that maybe someday it’ll finally be enough for you.”
“Tim—”
“No! It’s my turn now!” Tim’s words were acid. If he didn’t get them out now, they would burn him from the inside out. “I will never be the perfect kid you and Mom thought you deserved. I get that now. But I am enough. Bruce thinks so. Dick thinks so. And Conner thinks so too. I am more me with him than I am with anyone else. You already took Robin from me. I won’t let you take this from me too.”
Jack puffed up in rage. Seemingly having forgotten his lesson, he stormed into Tim’s space. Tim took a few steps back on instinct before he came back to himself and planted his feet, forcing Jack to stop to avoid a collision. Their faces were only a few inches apart as they glared at each other.
Tim realized he was almost as tall as his father.
Stubbornly trying to regain the control he could feel slipping through his fingers like water, Jack summoned every bit of authority he had in his body into his tone. “You aren’t seeing him again. This never happens again. Do I make myself clear?”
It was a good effort, but Tim had fought the Justice League. He regularly stared down the worst Gotham had to offer and said not here, not today. There was a lot he was willing to do to keep the peace. But Tim was fed up, and this was one thing he refusedto compromise on.
“No.”
There was nothing as immovable as a Bat who had made up their mind.
Maybe Jack finally recognized that because, for just a moment, Tim thought he saw something like sadness in his father’s eyes before they hardened like steel.
“Then get out.”
Tim blinked, his confusion enough to break through the bubble of anger that had been clouding out all else. “What?”
“I said get out of my house. And don’t come back.”
“Dad—”
“I don’t know who you are anymore. But you aren’t my son. I guess Batman ended up killing him after all.”
Tim’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure whether it was the grief or betrayal that cut worse, but he kinda wished the numbness would come back. He drew in a deep breath, pulling what was left of his anger around him like a shield. Or maybe a cloak.
He spun around on his heel and marched back toward the front door.
The movement seemed to break the trance of confused horror that had held Dana like a vice as she watched the argument unfold like a demented tennis match.
“Tim!” she called after him. She reached out vainly as if that would be enough to close the distance that had opened up between them like a chasm. “Tim, sweetheart!”
Tim couldn’t turn around, but that didn’t make Dana’s heartbroken tone any less painful to hear.
He didn’t stop once he was out of the door until he was halfway down the street. And then, it was only because Conner landed right in front of him.
“Hey, what happened?”
Tim couldn’t answer. He couldn’t make eye contact right now either. But Conner didn’t press him.
“Okay,” he reassured, “that’s okay.” He raised one hand for Tim to take if he wanted. “Can I give you a lift then?”
Tim took the hand.
-0
Tim directed Conner to touch down at the Manor’s front door, not wanting to risk the possibility of Bruce having changed the security codes by now. Even still, he was certain they had tripped some sort of alarm when they flew over the property.
He was proven correct when Alfred pulled open the door before he’d had the chance to knock. If he noticed that Tim still hadn’t let go of Conner’s hand, the butler didn’t say anything.
“Master Timothy! What an excellent surprise!”
Despite everything, Tim found his mouth pulling into a fond smile at the old man. “Hi Alfred. Is Bruce home? I need to talk to him.”
“Right this way, sir!” Alfred said, already pulling the door open, and Conner allowed himself to be pulled along with nothing but a supportive hand squeeze.
Tim felt his heart pounding as he followed Alfred towards what he quickly realized was Bruce’s study. Suddenly unable to bear the silence anymore, Tim burst out: “Alfred, have you met Conner?”
Alfred’s face twitched into what only the bats would recognize as the butler suppressing a fond smile of his own. “I have not, sir. Though I must admit I had guessed.” Addressing Conner directly this time, Alfred continued, “My name is Alfred Pennyworth. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kent.”
“Oh, uh…” Conner stammered before Martha Kent’s training kicked in. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Pennyworth.”
Alfred hmmd approvingly but left it there. Luckily, Tim was saved from further attempts at small talk by their arrival at the study doors. Alfred bid them goodbye before slipping away with a subtlety Conner had only thought attainable by bats.
Tim drew in a deep breath before knocking hesitatingly on the ornate doors. The “come in!’ came barely a moment later, and Tim pushed them open with the resignation of a convict approaching the gallows.
On any other day, Conner would have been looking around at anything and everything in the office appreciatively. But today he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Tim who had gone ramrod straight, his own gaze locked onto the man standing up from his desk at the other end of the room.
Bruce Wayne rose from his desk, in that moment somehow managing to look twice as intimidating in a tailored suit as he ever did as Batman. His eyes roved over both boys, taking in everything from their still intertwined hands to Conner’s civilian garb to the way Tim looked like he might be on the verge of passing out. His face was inscrutable the whole time.
Eventually, Bruce’s gaze met Conner’s own defiant glare. “So…” he drawled in perfect deadpan, “are the glasses genetic, or is the entire caped community conspiring to drive me prematurely gray.”
Tim let out a sudden laugh so strangled Conner was mildly concerned he was choking. Conner could empathize.
Apparently amused by their reaction, the Batman smirked,and Conner’s soul left his body for a moment.
When it became clear that they weren’t going to say anything on their own, Bruce continued. “Well, Conner, something tells me that Tim and I need to have a conversation. Will you be joining us, or do you have somewhere to be,” he asked mildly.
Conner gave Tim a sideways glance, under no delusions about who’s comfort Bruce was really concerned with here. Tim squeezed Conner’s hand one more time before finally letting go, and Conner took that as the dismissal it was.
“Actually, sir, I think better head to San Francisco before Victor starts to wonder where I am.”
Bruce nodded turned his attention to Tim. Conner made sure to supportively squeeze Tim’s shoulder back on his way out. He tried to ignore the part of himself that made him feel like he was abandoning Tim to the lions.
-0
Once Conner had pulled the door shut behind him, Bruce let go of the bit of Batman that had made its appearance the minute the proximity alarms had let him know that someone had flown over the property boundaries.
“Tim.”
Tim still wasn’t making eye contact, his gaze getting no closer than Bruce’s mouth. Bruce resisted the instinct to drop into the Batman voice. While it would be a sure-fire way to get Tim to look at him, it also would do nothing to actually make the kid more comfortable. Tim would assume that it meant he’d done something wrong, and that would just make everything ten times worse.
Instead, Bruce fought to keep his tone as even and gentle as possible. “How about we sit down,” he asked with a gesture toward the twin armchairs by the fire.
Tim nodded stiffly but still wouldn’t speak. Bruce held in his sigh. Just as he reached his own chair, there was another knock on the door, and Alfred pushed his way in without waiting for a response.
“Forgive me for interrupting, Master Bruce, but I thought some soothing tea might be helpful.”
Bruce smiled at the older man. “Thank you, Alfred. That would be great.”
Alfred nodded and brought his tray over to the side table before pouring each of them a cup. As he turned to leave, Tim’s quiet “thanks” was almost inaudible, but Alfred caught it anyway.
“You are most welcome, young man” he replied, making sure to send Bruce a pointed don’t screw this up glance on his way out.
Bruce settled down into the chair next to Tim, their knees almost close enough to touch. Tim’s hands were wrapped so tightly around his teacup that Bruce worried he might shatter it, but he didn’t take so much as a sip.
“Tim. Can you tell me what’s going on, son?”
Tim finally looked up from his cup again, his gaze settling on Bruce’s mouth again.
“I’m not really sure where to start.”
Okay, Bruce could work with that. “Does your Dad know where you are right now?”
Tim snorted humorlessly. “I really don’t think he gives a shit where I am or what I do at this point. He—” Tim broke off to clear his throat before trying again. “He kicked me out.”
There was pure defeat in Tim’s voice, as if he’d always known it was a matter of time, but he still managed to be disappointed anyway. That more than anything filled Bruce with a level of rage rare even for him while simultaneously breaking his heart.
Not trusting himself to speak at first, Bruce instead gently pulled the poor teacup out of Tim’s grasp and took his hands in his own. Tim’s fingers were trembling.
“Because he found out about you and Conner?” he clarified softly, not wanting to risk a faulty assumption when everything was so fragile.
Tim nodded again anyway. “We fought about some other stuff too, but… yeah, it was mostly about that. He saw us together, and—”
Again, Bruce really wanted to shake Jack Drake senseless. It was bad enough he always seemed to take this wonderful kid for granted, but to see a father intentionally hurt his child over something so inconsequential? It was unforgiveable.
“I’m so sorry, Tim. I know how much you wanted this to work out.”
Tim’s eyes filled with tears, and Bruce was pulling him against his chest even before he consciously recognized what he was seeing. As his son fell apart in his arms, Bruce found tears coming to his own eyes as well.
It had always been obvious how desperate Tim was for his father’s affection and approval after being starved for it for so many years. This was the final deathblow to the hope that one day it would be enough.
So, Bruce held his son, running his fingers through his hair. Eventually, Tim had cried himself out and pulled away, his embarrassment clear on his face. Bruce pulled a clean handkerchief (courtesy of Alfred, of course) from his pocket and handed it to a grateful Tim. Once he had pulled himself together, Tim looked back at Bruce, finally meeting his eyes.
“Does this…Does this mean I can come back to the Manor?”
“Oh, chum…” Bruce reached out to cradle one side of Tim’s face in his hand, his thumb reaching out to brush away another rogue tear. “I promise, you will always have a place in my home. Got it?”
“But what about Stephanie? You already have a Robin…”
Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Well, first of all, your place in this family is not contingent on whether you’re wearing a mask or not. And I’m so sorry if I’ve made you think otherwise. You are just as welcome here if you never put a mask on again as you would be if you went out tomorrow.
And secondly,” here he grimaced, “I may or may not have fired her for putting herself in danger after I told her to stay put. So… Robin’s yours if you still want it.”
“And you’re really okay with me dating a guy?”
Bruce chuckled. “Tim, I’ve taken in three boys by now. You think I never considered the possibility that at least one of you might bring home a boy someday? Granted, I would have put money on Dick being the first, but the point still stands. It makes absolutely no difference to me if you’re gay, buddy.”
“Umm… I think I’m bi actually.”
“Alright then, but my point still stands. I trust your judgment, and I don’t care who you date, as long as they make you happy.”
Tim gave a watery smile. “Thanks, Bruce.”
“Anytime, kiddo.” Then fully out of emotion points, Bruce cleared his suddenly tight throat. “Now, mind coming with me to the cave?”
Confused, Tim cocked his head, but rose accommodatingly. “Sure, what do you need?”
Bruce shook his head as he spun the clock hands and opened the secret passage. “It’s not what I need, but what you need.” He beckoned Tim to follow him down the steps, which he did obligingly. “I need to grab some more Kryptonite.”
“Bruce!” Tim squawked in shock and indignation. His brain immediately went into panic mode, thinking about all the ways Bruce trying to shovel-talk Conner might go horribly wrong, or at least be horribly embarrassing.
Bruce turned back, completely baffled by how adamant and unexpected the refusal was. “Tim,” he started. And oh no, that was his I don’t know why you’re arguing with this perfectly reasonable request voice that always managed to piss Dick off.
“If the two of you are going to be spending time together in Gotham as civilians, you need to be prepared in case the two of you get caught up in one a Rogue attack.” He turned back around and continued on over to the vault where he kept the Kryptonite. “Oh, and don’t let me forget to give him one of these new rebreathers I’ve been working on next time he comes over. The last thing Gotham needs is a Kryptonian getting dosed with Fear Toxin or Joker Gas.”
Kryptonite in hand, Bruce spun and nearly walked into a frozen Tim who was looking at him with a dumbfounded expression. “What?” he asked, the smallest bit of defensiveness bleeding into his voice.
Tim’s voice turned slightly skeptical. “And that’s the only thing you want the Kryptonite for?”
Now it was Bruce’s turn to be confused. “Yes???” he asked, mind whirling to figure out what he was missing.
Tim realized he had definitely misread where this was going and felt torn between laughing at Bruce’s complete confusion and the urge to hug him.
He decided to go with the second one, and if Bruce still had no idea what was going on when he hugged Tim back, well, that just made it better.
-0
Conner was happy enough to take the call that saved him from having to help seed the backfield. He was twice as happy to hear it was from Tim, who he hadn’t heard from since Conner left him at Wayne Manor three days ago.
“Tim?”
“Conner…”
“Tim, is that…you?”
“It’s me.”
“What’s up? What’s going on? I hear gunshots.”
“Tell the Titans not to give up my room. Tell them I’m back.”
Conner grinned. “I knew it.”
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savebatsfromscratch · 3 years ago
Text
@dancinglifeboat I wrote the fanfic finally! :D
(Also on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32517502 )
A fic about Ghostbur and c!Solidaritygaming stuck together in limbo after their deaths. :) (It's really fluffy compared to what I usually write,.,,.)
(I put triggers for a few things in the tags but here are the ones I put on Ao3:
Death Downing Loss of a loved one Body Horror Getting shot? )
Please don't copy or repost anywhere!!
JIMMY + GHOSTBUR FIC START NOWWW-
“Ah!” he screamed, stabbing pain shooting through his head. The arrow had hit him right in the face, piercing through the skin easily and passing into his brain.
His knees hit the ground heavily, causing sand getting into the wounds that covered his skin. “Scott,” he hissed, blood filling his mouth as an unbearable pain covered all other senses. He fell forwards, the pressure not only pushing the arrow further into his skull, but also chipping his last life away. It was as if he had been torn from his body and thrown back, the ghostly spirit staying floating for a moment before being dragged down, down, down, until he no longer knew which direction was up.
. . .
Darkness filled his vision, the drowned’s glowing blue eyes burning with tears as he spun through the void. His lungs seemed to be filled with water, the drowning constant and inescapable. Occasionally, he would think he would spot a star, but every time it would be swiftly snuffed out before he got a good look at it, so it wasn’t much of a comfort. He would try to scream, in pain or for help it didn’t matter, his mouth would be filled with some inky substance that choked the words away. Ears rang and buzzed as he tried to focus on any sound at all. There was so much but it was all so far away…
He missed his husband. That man would have been able to help him, he would have pulled him out of the darkness and chided him, “Be more careful around the lake Jimmy, you don’t want to drown do you?” and then he would have pulled him into a hug and run his fingers through his hair, gently asking if he was alright. ...and he would be. Everything would be good and he would be fine.
Light would filter through clouds and illuminate the flowers around the lake. The border to their side would have meant nothing, they could just hug and finally be together. Scott could teach him how to build better, slowly helping sculpt his house into slightly less of a mess. He would teach him how to play Chick-Chance and purposely pick eggs to let Scott win. Both of them would pet Daisy, pretending she was still the original. Maybe they could even have won that twisted story. Maybe, in this fantasy, Jimmy wouldn’t have been the first to die.
Dragged back into reality, he let out a pained sob, the inky blackness instantly gagging him, filling his lungs with even more unbearable sludge. It hurt so much. Why couldn’t Scott just be here with him? Why must he suffer alone? Was this what he had experienced on his first “last death”? Was that why he couldn’t remember it or much of what came before? So many questions plagued his mind, but even more pain prevented any of them from being thought about. It was blinding as the stars of night, and as smothering as the smoke from a bad memory. God it was awful.
Until it wasn’t.
He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point, the pain of the void had gone away. He had lost the memory of any cycle of time, and the only memory of “sleep” was too hard to think about. It reminded him of better times, which in turn made him think about why he was here. It was a sort of limbo, and it felt like the end of the world was already here.
But he still told himself it was alright.
-- - - - -
Sometime later something interesting happened. There was a loud sound and a huge puff of smoke. Jimmy had tried to swim away from it at first, but his eyes had caught on what was left in that smoke. A man had been left sitting there, shaking and crying, and trying desperately to leave. He seemed to be stuck on some sort of concrete square, while Jimmy could float and swim as he pleased. (However, he couldn’t really breathe, while the man on the platform seemed to be hyperventilating just fine. He wasn’t sure if he was jealous of this or not.)
Eventually, he had worked up the courage to move towards the man, but, as he did, odd things happened. He would be thrown through the blackness at random intervals, always crashing into a wall he knew was not there. He would feel an awful pain in his chest as if he was stabbed through with a sword. He would imagine odd scenes, TNT blowing up over a nation he did not know, a blue sheep walking softly through a nether portal. It had to mean something... but what? That he did not know. Of course, things he did know were shown to him as well. Memories would work their way to the surface, and as expected, they were always things he wished to forget. Bubbles rising slowly to the surface of a loser’s lagon, a church in flames, fire spreading across a cobblestone floor, a definingly loud explosion, an arrow through his skull. . . There seemed to be a sort of pattern here, but he refused to see it.
Even so, he pushed on.
The distance between the two shrank slower than he had thought possible. He would struggle through the darkness as if it was some sort of sticky slime in need of cleaning, but eventually, his squirming paid off.
His feet touched down on the island of concrete, and instantly he felt gravity fall back onto him. But that wasn’t the only thing that was back. He fell to his knees, coughing and retching, trying to get the sludge out of his lungs. He suddenly felt the need to breathe burning through him, and honestly, the scared voice asking if he was alright was the least of his worries right now. He hacked and choked, until, with a loud and wet splattering sound, a hunk of black-ish purple goo hit the ground in front of him.
He stayed that way for a moment, trembling and relishing the air. Even if it was sort of the opposite of fresh, he hadn’t taken a breath in so long that it could have been a newly discovered continent, it felt so good. However, as he stared into the purple-ish goo that he had expelled from his lungs, he became increasingly aware of eyes on his back. After a few moments of frozen fear, he remembered why he was here in the first place. A man, on the edge of a train station floating in the void. He looked up.
There he stood, cowering slightly, pure white eyes staring into his own muted ones. He had on an oversized sweater stained with something blue, and hands covered with a similar shade. The man was a curious fellow, that’s for sure, but Jimmy had already known that. All that struggling through limbo to get to him had pretty much cemented the image in his mind. (Not to mention all of the other curious fellows he had known in his… life.)
After a minute of staring at each other, the man finally spoke, “Who are you?” he asked, his voice was airy and slightly echoey, which would have been weird if Jimmy wasn’t dead.
He thought for a moment, wondering which of his many names would be the best introduction in this inky world. Not Jimmy, no, that might remind him of Scott. (Just the thought of his husband tore an aching hole in his heart.) And not Timmy either, that brought back memories of Grian…
“I’m Ghostbur by the way,” Jimmy looked up, eyes widening slightly at the abrupt speaking. The man didn’t seem to mind though, “In case you didn’t want to go first,”
Jimmy smiled at this, Ghostbur seemed to be a wonderful man, even if he did find it a little odd that he didn’t seem at all disturbed by his entrance to the room. It had been rather odd.
“I’m Solidarity,” He finally said, his voice sounding stronger compared to Ghostbur’s, despite the slight croak in it from not speaking for so long. (Not to mention the drowning.)
“Solidarity? That’s a nice name,” The man smiled slightly at him, his voice and movements seeming to blur around the edges as he walked to a different tile. How strange. It reminded him of how he had been back on his last server, how, instead of having bloodlust, he had begun to crumble away. It wasn’t a memory he liked to think about.
“Thank you,” Jimmy finally said, pausing for a moment before quickly adding, “I find your name quite nice as well,” He felt awkward in the conversation. It had been so long since he had talked to someone.
“Thank you!” Ghostbur replied, happily spinning around once, a drop of the blue stuff falling off his hand onto the floor as he did, “It’s ‘Wilbur’ bur with ‘Ghost’ instead of ‘Will’,” here he suddenly became serious, though the same airly tone was kept, “But please don’t call me Wilbur, I am not him,”
Solidarity nodded, not quite understanding the request but knowing that it was important to follow such things. Who knows? Maybe this ‘Wilbur’ guy had done some really bad things that Ghostbur had gotten blamed for. It didn’t seem very likely, but who’s to say that it wasn’t true?
They stood there for a moment longer, Ghostbur humming to himself quietly, eyes closed as if he was imagining that he was someplace else. Jimmy cocked his head to the side, trying to get up the courage to ask something. What that ‘something’ was was still a work in progress though. Maybe he could ask about the weird visions he had gotten as he tried to get here, maybe ask about the blue stuff that occasionally dripped onto the floor. Maybe Jimmy could even ask if this man knew where they were, or about the train that had dropped him off. It was worth trying.
But before he got too, Ghostbur spoke again. His voice rang across the concrete floor, almost as if there was a large room that surrounded only him. “You have very nice eyes Mr. Solidarity,” he said, “They are a very pretty blue,”
Jimmy smiled weakly at that, “They used to be more so, but... something happened,” of course, he wasn’t going to share what that something was, drowning wasn’t a very fun topic for small talk.
Luckily for him though, the man didn’t press, “I find them very nice,” he said matter-a-factly, “Much better than all of this red,” he shuddered and shut his eyes, the light from them extinguished like a communicator band being shut off. But that disappearance of the whiteness wasn’t that important, especially when held up to what Ghostbur had just said. Red? What red? Solidarity looked around and saw none. Only the blackness of the void and the flat grey of the tiles beneath their feet.
“But you are here!” Ghostbur suddenly said, looking up very quickly as he did, "And you wear blue clothes, and have blue eyes, and slightly blue skin!” The man laughed softly at his luck. Jimmy however, cringed back, yes his skin was slightly blue now, but that was because of his… deaths. (Drowneds tended to have at least slightly blue skin.)
...But what Ghostbur was saying hadn’t been meant to be rude, so Jimmy just ignored the slight pain in his lungs at the memories and laughed along with the other man. (Who, by the way, seemed delighted to finally be distracted by whatever he saw around them. By now Solidarity had guessed it was much different than his own view. Though what that entailed was entirely up for debate.)
“It’s great to have another person here!” The man’s voice cracked at the end of his sentence, but instead of sounding funny or endearing, it sounded like he was trying to keep Jimmy here. Like a small animal searching for a parent. Something that Jimmy could wholeheartedly relate to, despite how sad it may be.
But he wasn’t longing for a parent or friend, he was crying for Scott, and he had a feeling that this Ghostbur wasn’t looking for a family member either. . . . Though he had never been great at interpreting things so he could be wrong.
“It is great to have another person here. I was floating in that void for so long you wouldn’t believe,” Solidarity grimaced, the thought of it reminding him of the icky slime choking him. Painful and disgusting, two of the things you hoped you wouldn’t run into after death.
“Void?” Ghostbur innocently asked, prompting Solidarity to look up at the other man in confusion. He had guessed that he had been seeing things differently than Ghostbur, but he had been thinking like… a shift in color. Not a whole different place.
He nodded slowly, eyes locked on Ghostbur’s. The glowing white of them was unyielding of any emotion, “Yeah the void,” he turned and gestured vaguely towards the inky blackness behind him, “Where I came from?” he looked back to see that Ghostbur had cocked his head to the side. Confusion now painted on his face.
“Mr. Solidarity, that's a wall,” he said softly, “A wall that opened into a door that you climbed out of,” his voice shook a bit more than it had previously, Jimmy frowned at this, the motion only deepening when Ghostbur continued, “The door is gone now, but you definitely did come out of one,”
Solidarity shook his head slowly, eyes kept on Ghostbur’s the whole time, “Ghostbur I swear that I’m seeing blank blackness out there,” he turned to look at the ‘blank blackness’ and stared into it. Yep, that was definitely not a wall. He looked back at Ghostbur in time for the man to speak.
“I see a concrete wall,” he spoke quietly and uncertainly, as if he was suddenly not so sure of it himself, “A concrete wall with windows filled with red,” his voice broke upon mentioning the color, and Jimmy suddenly realised what the man had meant by the, ‘much better than all this red,’ earlier.
“Ah well, maybe one of us is wrong,” Jimmy quickly said, taking a step forward and attempting to set his hand on Ghostbur’s shoulder, but to his surprise, it went right through him. It wasn’t like there was nothing there really, more like a really warm summer day, one where you could have sworn that you were underwater.
They both stared at each other for a moment, but the slightly shocked silence was broken when Ghostbur continued their conversation. “I hope that I’m wrong,” he whispered, taking a step back and causing another drop of the blue stuff to hit the ground. It landed in the crack between two tiles, and spread out accordingly, but Solidarity saw none of this, only thinking about his hand going right through the man. Ghostbur, that was his name, but could he really be… well, a ghost? Jimmy was dead, so maybe this guy was as well?
Jimmy turned and stared at the void behind him, the blackness causing strange patterns in his vision the more he stared at it. He wondered if that was his eyes being bad again or just a trick of the light, either way, it did nothing to comfort the growing worry in his stomach. If this ghost had pulled into this place, could it be possible to get out? Maybe Jimmy could see Scott again.
He looked back at Ghostbur, not at all surprised to see the man standing right where he had been left, shaking slightly and looking about the platform. His eyes reflected a reddish color that Jimmy could not see coming from anywhere else. This saddened him, maybe the color that seemed to scare him so much was really all around him. It was comparable to his swim through the darkness, the sludge filling his lungs and drowning out both his own sounds and everything else's. (Not to mention drowning him.)
“Hey-” he started, taking a deep breath before continuing, “Ghostbur, why is it that you are… here?” he tried, cringing inwardly at the question he had asked, a feeling only magnified by the ghost’s reaction to it. He looked directly into Jimmy’s eyes, sadness visible in the glowing white things even without an iris or pupil to help them.
“I was… killed by someone,” he sniffled angrily, voice shaking violently the longer the sentence went on, “I thought it was going to be oka-y,” he cried, voice echoing around the area while still sounding as non-threatening as it had from the start.
“It’s alright-” Solidarity started, stepping forwards and just barely stopping himself from putting his hand on the other’s shoulder, “I was, um, murdered as well,” he scratched the back of his head, “... so I understand what your going through,”
Ghostbur nodded and inhaled shakily (yet ever so bravely), “Thank you Mr. Solidarity,” he looked to the ground, glowing eyes half-closed and full of tears, “It means a lot that you are here,” he paused for a moment, as if trying to think of what to say, “Thank you for being my friend,” he finally finished, looking up to look at the drowned man.
Jimmy simply nodded, glad to see that the crying seemed to be over, “Thank you for being my friend too,” He smiled, “It’s been so long since I had someone to talk to,”
Ghostbur nodded back at him, his airy laugh filling the void with a warmth that wouldn’t normally be expected of such a place. It was calming, and Jimmy was truly glad he was here. A ghost and a drowned, an unlikely, but hopefully long-lasting friendship.
-- - - - -
It had been many uncountable days sitting there, oncationaly comforting his new ghost friend (or the other way around), staring into the blackness and discussing what was seen there (a wall apparently), or even sharing past stories. Ghostbur talked fondly of a blue sheep he had known while he was alive, and Jimmy was happily able to discuss fun stories from X-Life. (Because the wounds were less fresh than 3rd Life.) Ghostbur took delight in the tales of Jeremyism and the Coven, and always had something cryptic to add about his own past. It was nice, but it sure wasn’t comfortable, for, whenever you think about happy memories, painful ones pop up.
That was how they had ended up in this position. Ghostbur leaned on Jimmy’s shoulder (Because he couldn’t lean on him) while both of them thought about sad things. Ghostbur would occasionally sniffle and wipe his face with his arms. But the rising steam off his tears didn’t shock Solidarity anymore, it had become normal. He supposed that was what happened when you were dead and didn’t have anything to do.
Jimmy leaned back, shifting a bit more weight to his arms, and sighed. He felt Ghostbur adjust his potion slightly to follow the movement, the Ghost’s arms were wrapped around him and occasionally clipping just a centimeter or two into his sides.
“What is it?” Asked Ghostbur, his friend’s voice was shaky and brave, as if he was struggling to hold back his tears, which, of course, he was.
Jimmy sighed again before speaking, not really caring that the sound was getting repetitive, there were only the two of them here anyway. “I was just thinking about someone that I miss,” He turned to look at Ghostbur, the man’s white eyes blurring around the edges with burning tears, “I’m sure you have people like that,”
For a moment Ghostbur didn’t move and Solidarity regretted his phrasing, but before he could apologize, his friend spoke. “I do miss many people,” he whispered, “Tommy, Ranboo, Friend,” he sighed, the sound a direct contrast to the recent two Jimmy had just made. Instead of being loud and sudden, it seemed to blend in with the nothingness around the two. Though both seemed just as hopeless as the other. (Maybe that’s just what happened when you were stuck in limbo without your loved ones.)
It was a moment before either continued the conversation, instead choosing to rest in each other’s company. Sure they may not have their traditional loved-ones, but at least they had a friend.
“You’ve talked about them right?” Jimmy whispered, staring off into the blank space that surrounded the platform. (Even if he appeared to be staring at a wall from Ghostbur’s perspective.)
“I have,” the man replied simply. He sounded slightly hopeful, but Jimmy really didn’t know why.
“Were they good friends?” he tried
Ghostbur smiled and clipped a little further into his ribs, “Yes they were good friends,” he paused for a moment before finishing off his statement, “For the most part anyway,”
Jimmy nodded and tried his best to not attempt to hug Ghostbur back. You see, the ghost could touch him, but he could not do the same if that makes sense. It was the intent of the movements. If Ghostbur wanted to shake his hand, they could, as long as Jimmy didn’t shake his hand back. (Because if he did his hand would go right through the other’s.) But he did really want to hug Ghostbur sometimes, as a lot of friends do.
“Not all of my friends were always nice to me,” he comforted Ghostbur, hoping that the words would work in place of a hug. As Ghostbur lessened his grip and smiled at him however, Jimmy’s thoughts were plunged into darkness. Memories of two of the nations he had lived in in the past, X Life and 3rd Life, filled his brain. Scott, Tango, Skizz, even Joel. How could any of them have done that stuff? He forgave Scott of course, as the poor man was his husband after all, but all the others? He wasn’t so sure about them.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by Ghostbur speaking, the ghost’s airy voice blowing away the negative emotions he had been feeling a moment before. “You are very kind Mr. Solidarity,” he said, “And, I know I say this a lot, but I am glad to have you,” The words were so genuine that Solidarity couldn’t help but smile.
“That's great to hear man,” he whispered, “I love you too,” and, when Ghostbur looked at him oddly, Jimmy simply laughed. “As a friend! As a friend,” here he looked at the aforementioned friend and paused for a moment, “Do friends ever say where you are from?”
Ghostbur thought about this for a moment, really pondering the fact apparently, because it was a full 10 seconds before he spoke. (Jimmy counted.) “Yes they did, but,” here the ghost blushed a blue that would have calmed him down if he could see it, “Not many people really said it to me,”
Jimmy sighed and wished for the second time that conversation to just be a ghost, and not a drowned, so he could hug the poor man. “You deserve people saying they love you, don’t ever let anyone say otherwise,”
Ghostbur smiled that soft smile of his and laughed, the sound echoing around the train station that Jimmy could not see. “Don’t worry Mr. Solidarity, I don’t think there is anyone else here to tell me that,” and, though it was a joke, the words made the drowned sad, he laughed along with Ghostbur (because it truly was a funny joke) but inside he was worried. Why were they the only ones here? If this was an afterlife, why weren’t the other people on 3rd life here? He knew he was the first to die in that nation, but surely others had died by now . . . right? Suddenly his heart sank, unless everyone had been released from the spell when he had died.
If that was truly the case, why had the rules of the land been worded that way? And, as an even worse thought, if it wasn’t the case, where was everyone? He scanned the void around for any signs of life, hoping the whole time that Ghostbur didn’t notice his worry. The last thing he wanted was for his only friend here to see him upset. (Sure it had happened many times before, but it was so awful every time.) But no, no more chunks of land in the sky were found. Maybe they were still spiraling through it, possibly with the sense of burning or being struck with arrows? How was he to know their deaths, he had gone first.
Unfortunately for him, Ghostbur’s innocent voice interrupted his thinking, “Are you alright?” he asked, sounding very concerned and decently curious. Both good things if you are looking for comfort, but not so good if you want to bury the emotions and never have them be found.
He looked at the other man, eyes taking just a moment to focus on his friend’s face. Friendly void like eyes with grey-ish hair, he couldn’t name a better duo. (Well he could, but thinking about himself and Scott made him sad.)
“Uh yeah, I’m fine,” he said, hoping to Prime, Jeremy, or any other god out there (maybe even Kristen) that Ghostbur couldn’t tell he was lying. However, they must not have heard him, because a moment later his friend shook his head and frowned at him.
“I can tell when you are lying about something,” the friendly ghost chided him, “and after all that cheering up you keep making me do, I want to help you!”
That was a sweet gesture, but oh it came at such a bad time.
“No really! I’m doing good-” Jimmy started, but he was put to a stop by the other man standing up and grabbing his hand. He could have just pulled away, but he was rather curious now.
“Come,” Ghostbur said simply, leading him away from their spot. As he was dragged forwards, Jimmy smiled slightly at the blue stain spreading to his own fingers, that wasn’t going to come out any time soon. It would eventually fade (As the two had discovered by the puddles of blue about the station disappearing.) but it would take a while. It never seemed to fade from Ghostbur though, he wondered why that was…
“Here!” Ghostbur said happily, pushing Jimmy forwards and what he guessed was some sort of wall. (He couldn’t see it though.)
He looked at his friend in confusion, gesturing to the space in front of him and shrugging. When Ghostbur looked at him with the same expression that Jimmy had, the drowned explained. “I can’t see what’s here, it’s all just void to me,”
Ghostbur frowned at this, eyes narrowing in thought as he did. “He must be thinking about how to show whatever it is to me,” Jimmy thought, “It must be really important then,”
After just a moment Ghostbur seemed to come to a conclusion, carefully stepping up to the edge on the platform and standing on his tiptoes. Jimmy bit his lip, even though he knew that Ghostbur saw a wall there (And for him there really was one, Jimmy had seen him climb it before.) he was still worried. He didn’t want his friend to fall into the void.
He looked away as Ghostbur seemed to teeter on the edge, arms reached up as if to grab something. He was too afraid to check what was going on. RIP! Solidarity looked up, suddenly extremely confused what that sound had been. What he saw however, shocked him.
Ghostbur was standing in the same place as before, but in his hands was some sort of poster style advertisement. It was missing the very top corner of it, and Jimmy guessed that that was what had made the ripping noise. However, he had never been so happy to see such a damaged piece of art.
“Do you like it?” Asked Ghostbur expectantly, handing him the poster with his blue-stained hands. All Jimmy could do was nod, taking the picture and holding it close to him. Sure, it was monochromatic red, and stained with blue from the hands of his friend, but it was a picture of someone he loved dearly. Scott.
After a few moments of stunned silence, Jimmy managed to get a word out, hugging the advertisement to his chest as he spoke, he said, “How do you have this?” His voice sounded weak even to him, it was in stark contrast to his normal tone, which opted to sound strong and confident. But, neither was bad.
Ghostbur laughed, hugging his friend in what could only be described as a pounce. “It was on the wall! Along with several other advertisements for other things that I know. El Rapids, the Egg, things like that,” the ghost pulled back out of the hug, giving Jimmy more room to look at his new favorite thing, “MCC fits in right with them,” he finished. He sounded truly proud of himself, though his voice still echoed around the edges, it was a nice change.
“Thank you so much, how can I-?” Jimmy stared, looking up from the photo of his husband and back into his friend’s face as he was shushed.
“You don’t have to do anything! I just wanted to cheer you up,” the ghost grinned, hands still strongly held on Solidarity’s arms. It was a friendly gesture, and since it only slightly hindered his ability to see the paper, he didn’t ask his friend to stop.
After a moment of happy silence, Jimmy spoke, and, though his voice shook as he did, it was purely joyful. “You certainly cheered me up,” he smiled, turning to his friend with eyes full of newfound appreciation.
Ghostbur only laughed.
-- - - - -
Since that last memory, Ghostbur had become more vocal about the train station around them. (Or just him? Jimmy couldn’t really tell.) He explained the staircase that was closed and unclimbable, and was impressed when Jimmy guessed that it was that way because it was off the platform he could see. Ghostbur expressed his distaste for the lights above, apparently, they were a very bright and uncomfortable red. Solidarity expressed his pity for his friend and was sure to try to comfort him. The ghost thanked him profusely and explained that it was starting to hurt less now that they had been here for more than two months. This confused Jimmy, both because he couldn’t believe it had been that long and because he couldn’t believe it hadn’t been longer (not even mentioning how he didn’t have a guess how Ghostbur knew that), but he didn’t say anything.
Or at least, for a while the lights were getting better.
Ghostbur consistently complained about cracks in his vision, in a normal situation, Jimmy would have found this to be nothing to worry about. Sunlight causes vision to wig out, that’s just a known fact, but that didn’t quite explain what was happening with his friend. Probably because, well, there wasn’t really any sun here, and though darkness would also cause sight to mess with itself, Ghostbur wasn’t exactly surrounded by the same void that JImmy was.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked, putting a stop to his friend’s frantic rambling in a way that he hoped wasn’t too harsh. He knew it wasn’t always a good idea to interpret someone while they talked about something important to them. (This was known for many reasons, but a big one for Jimmy was how when, back on Evo of course, Grian was excitedly explaining the best ways to prank people and was rudely interrupted. It wouldn’t normally be a problem to make someone shut up if they were talking about the best way to kill you, but Grian was a different breed. His whole house had been full of traps the next time he had stepped into it. Oh what a time.) But, back in the present, he did know that he deserved to be worried if his only accessible friend was having health problems.
Ghostbur sighed, burying his head in his knees and nodding into them. “I’m fine Mr. Solidarity,” he finally said, “My eyes just hurt a little bit,” (In the last few words his voice escalated in an octave and gained some echo, both of which made Jimmy think that maybe he wasn’t so fine.)
“Are you sure-?” he started, cutting himself off when he accidentally sent his hand through his friend’s shoulder trying to pat him on it.
Ghostbur stifled a laugh and pushed his hand away, “I’ll be fine, things are just feeling a bit bright again,” Jimmy would have accepted that answer had it not been for the slight shaking in the other man’s voice, as it was, the only person he could talk to was this guy, and if he got hurt, well, Jimmy would be plagued with non-ending worry.
He didn’t act on his thoughts though, opting instead to stare into the void with a concerned look in his eyes. It was easier to think if you had the right emotion for the job that was for sure.
But instead of instantly knowing what to do, he was instead plagued with thoughts of all the things that could be going wrong. Was Ghostbur melting away? It seemed unlikely, but he supposed that since he didn’t know how this limbo thing worked, it could work like that. Or maybe Ghostbur was going blind? That wasn’t necessarily a bad option, because he knew that people could still live wonderful fulfilling lives while being blind, but it did take some getting used to. Or- no wait, why was he doing this? Ghostbur could have simply strained his eye for all he knew, he didn’t have access to every emotion he felt. . . .but something in the back of his mind still told him to help.
-and that’s when he got it. The perfect plan.
“What are you doing?” Ghostbur asked, his voice a rather well mixed mash of curiosity, confusion and pain. But Jimmy couldn’t really argue with them, as they all fit the situation perfectly.
“I’m just tearing a bit of fabric off my sleeve,” he answered casually, doing just as he said.
He felt Ghostbur stare at him for a few moments, those pure white eyes boring right through his body the whole time. “But…” He could almost hear Ghostbur blushing as he paused, “Isn't that going to be permanent…? We don’t have a needle or any thread,”
Now it was Jimmy’s turn to flush as his friend’s confused and echoey voice told him things he already knew. “Well I thought that maybe if your eyes hurt it was a good idea to rest them,” he admitted, finishing off the strip of fabric with a satisfying ripping noise as he finished speaking, “So I’m making you an eye mask,”
Ghostbur emited a sound that could have been either one of appreciation or worry. Jimmy hoped it was the earlier option.
“That is very nice of you,” the ghost whispered, and, as Jimmy saw when he looked back at him, closed his eyes and stuffed his head into his sweatshirt. Probably hoping to get some of that ‘rest’ that Jimmy had mentioned earlier.
But he continued to work, checking the fabric for gross looking sections as he went. (Being undead, he had some rotting patches of skin and truth be told, he didn’t really want any of that getting into Ghostbur’s already hurting eyes.) Once that task was done, Solidarity sighed and leaned back on the concrete floor, searching the empty platform for things to make the eye mask look better. Of course he found nothing.
Was the gift done? He wanted to be absolutely sure that this was what his friend deserved. (Which was the best of course.) He didn’t think it was done, but there wasn’t much more he could really do with it. He could probably pull one of the flowers out of his hair to decorate it with, but the two dead men had already figured out that flowers followed in their footsteps when unattached from Jimmy. It was a blessing and a curse really. Having such nice plants right there but not being able to remove them (even to see them) for fear they would be gone forever.
He supposed that the gift must be done if he couldn’t do anything more with it. He looked sadly down at the new torn patch in his sleeve, hopefully Ghostbur would like this eye mask, blindfold thing, because if he didn’t Jimmy would have just torn away part of his sleeve for no reason.
He waited as long as he could, listening to the soft breathing of his sleeping friend the whole time. (Apparently it was effective to sleep with your head shoved into your sweatshirt, who knew.) But after a few minutes of fidgeting, he decided he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Ghostbur?” he asked, tapping the concrete floor as loudly as he dared, “I think I’m done with the thing,”
Instead of waking up however, Ghostbur simply rolled over, his face slipping out of his sweatshirt and coming to meet the floor instead. His nose came to a rest right over the edge of the border between two tiles. It was almost as if it was made for exactly this situation, that made Jimmy laugh, maybe he should let him rest a bit longer.
He laid back down, though he was unsure of when he had sat back up really, must have happened while he was thinking. The floor was just as uncomfortable and cold as it always was, but as he flattened against it he realised how tired he was, and, closing his eyes, he dipped into sleep.
He dreamed.
He dreamed that he was back in life, but it was a strange sort of life. Many friends he had known were there, and though not all of them made sense to be in that same place (Netty and Lizzy for example,) one stood out past any others. Among all the evolutionists, X lifers, and 3rd lifers there stood one ghost. One ghost among the undead and unknown.
“Hello Mr. Solidarity!” his friend happily called, “I’m so happy to meet all your friends!” Jimmy noticed that his voice was unnaturally strong for him, but he didn’t mind it, instead choosing to indulge in this fantasy of a dream.
“Hey Ghostbur,” he smiled, reaching out to shake hands with his friend, and not questioning when he was able to initiate the touch, “What’s going on over on the Dream SMP?”
Ghostbur pouted and shook his head, “The trains keep pulling into the station,”
If Solidarity had heard such a thing in normal life, he would have questioned why it had been said, however, because this was a dream, he didn’t think twice, instead shaking his head understandingly. “That really stinks man,” he closed his eyes and threw his head back to the sky, “Who’s driving them this time?” It was nonsensical words, but a small bit of logic in the back of his head told him that maybe it was important.
Reacting as if his subconscious was correct, Ghostbur looked from side to side, almost as if he was trying to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation, before he continued. “It’s been Dream most times, but the other day I saw a bunch of blue lambs in the driver's seat instead,”
Jimmy laughed as Ghostbur did, the former serious state of the conversation evaporating as his knowledge of his dreaming state did. Now it was just a fun little brain story, as a lot of things are.
“Say, Ghostbur,” he started, a giddy smile plastered on his face as he spoke, “Have you seen Scott around here?” (If Jimmy was still even a little awake he would have remembered that the dream had placed his husband right beside him, but he was fully asleep by now.)
Ghostbur shook his head, shrugging even as his smile refused to waver, “I have not seen him,” Suddenly, a cold feeling filled the air. Solidarity looked up in fear as Ghostbur put a hand on his chest. “Why don’t you go see him?” The smile twisted as his hand pushed right through him, and pain shot through his body as blankness filled his vision.
Jimmy woke in a cold sweat, sitting up faster than was really necessary as he did. What the heck was that?! A weird dream that’s what. He looked down at his hand, breathing slowing to a more normal pace as he stared at the object there. Ghostbur was absolutely correct, blue could calm a person down. He stared for a moment, evening his breaths and trying to figure out what in the world he had been thinking about a moment before. But, as all dreams do, it was gone in seconds.
He turned to Ghostbur and was happy to see his friend laying half asleep next to him, eyes open halfway and reflecting the red they always did. He looked so tired and Solidarity found it funny, he usually woke up rather fast, but it had already been proven many times that Ghostbur was not like him in that regard. Sure, they may both be dead, but they sure as heck don’t wake up at the same speed.
They stayed that way for a few moments, only stopping when Ghostbur turned to him and yawned, which was so funny that Jimmy simply had to laugh. Ghostbur’s sleepy blinking as he tried to figure out what was so funny acted only as fuel to the fire that was Jimmy’s amusement.
Eventually however, he managed to calm down, taking the chance to hand Ghostbur the piece of fabric and explain what it was for, “This is supposed to be an eye mask,” he started, gesturing at the object now clutched in his friend’s grasp, “You put it over your eyes to block out light. I thought that you might like having something blue to hide all that red,”
It took a moment for Ghostbur to react, but once he did, he was very thankful. Instantly tying the thing around his head and gasping with joy.
“It works!” he yelped, his voice sounding even more echoey than it normally did. (Thanks to his tiredness Jimmy guessed.) “Thank you so much!” He smiled an eyeless smile at his friend, “I am glad that I have this,”
“You’re welcome,” Solidarity grinned, “I’m glad it does,” They sat that way for a moment, Ghostbur happily humming to himself as he stared into the blue fabric. However, Solidarity instantly found it in him to speak again, “But do you want to uh.. See anything?” he gestured around himself before remembering that Ghostbur probably couldn’t tell he was doing it, “There’s the void right over there,”
Ghostbur laughed an echoey laugh and shook his head, “I can’t fall into it remember? Plus, there isn't really that much around to look at,”
He couldn’t argue with that.
-- - - - -
Jimmy had grown to like this new home, and (with the help of his fabric piece) Ghostbur had too. They had figured out how to make it comfortable, however, there was no way to deny that it was still limbo. It had been so long since Jimmy had been in the void that he hardly remembered what it felt like, so sometimes he longed for that feeling again, but every time those sorts of thoughts appeared, the happiness in that empty station brought him back. It was so nice, him and a good friend, two people able to bond over shared experiences despite not knowing each other in life. The causal energy of that sort of thing was nothing less than a breeding ground for laziness, and he was glad for it.
But it was in the moments lazing around the platform (staring at his MCC advertisement and being hugged by Ghostbur that is) that he noticed something. Something… new.
He sat up, causing Ghostbur’s arms to pass right through his chest and his shoes to make an awful squeaking noise against the concrete floor, and stared into the void. What he saw there was nothing short of a shock.
There, nestled against the blanketing blackness of nothingness, sat a place he knew. A welcomingly sunny valley with a beautifully built home and a lake that spilled into nothing. But most importantly, he could see movement. Specifically flowers wavering in the wind and a blurry person making their way across the clearing. Could it be?
“What is it?” Ghostbur asked curiously, standing slowly as he removed the makeshift blindfold to get a better look at whatever it was. But instead of cocking his head to the side and complaining about the walls and red lights, he blinked a few times before gasping.
“Can you see it?” Solidarity asked, breathlessly making his way to the edge of the platform. When no response came, he wondered if his friend had responded with a nod or a shake of his head, and he was tempted to look back, but only for a moment. His eyes were too glued to the island to worry about such a thing. (Not that Ghostbur’s input was unimportant, there were just a few more important things happening. Not even including the speeding beating of his heart and the hope spreading through his soul.)
But as Jimmy stood on his tiptoes on the edge of the station, Ghostbur’s response came. “Is this what you’ve been seeing all this time?” He whispered, “It’s beautiful…”
Jimmy turned to his friend, “I don’t know what you are seeing, but if it’s blackness with no stars, then yes,” (He found that paying attention to the person you have spent nearly three months with was sort of important, you don’t want them to leave do you?)
Ghostbur slowly shook his head, happy looking tears spilling down his face and causing wisps of smoke to float off into nothingness. “No,” he choked, “There's something out there,” he gestured to the void, “Out there in all that darkness, there is something bright and blue,”
Solidarity turned back to what he was talking about, happy to see that it was still there. “Well,” he smiled, “That’s a new addition,”
They stood there for a moment, poster and chunk of fabric forgotten on the floor behind them, there was simply something better now. It was a nice moment, a drowned and his ghost friend standing on the edge of everything they could ever want, but it was so far away, how would they get to it? He started at the thought, was that what he wanted to do? Abandon the life he had found here in favor of chasing what might be a lie? It only took a few moments of thinking for him to determine that if he were to leave this station, he would be bringing Ghostbur with him, like it or not. …but how would he do that?
“What are you thinking about?” Ghostbur asked, his voice still full of disbelief and joy, despite the genuine question he had just asked.
“Home,” Jimmy said breathlessly, despite not turning back around to Ghostbur (He could not tear his eyes away this time.), he could hear his friend respond to the word. He didn’t speak or anything, but only gasped, probably recognising the far away island from the stories he had been told.
They stood there a bit longer, but this time was cut short when a loud sound rocked the station. Instantly, both men looked at each other and then the floor around them. Terror filled Jimmy’s heart as he snatched up his picture of Scott, Ghostbur instantly following in his footsteps and picking up his fabric piece. They had talked about what would happen if bad things happened to their land, but of course, with a loud noise, there were two main options they had thought up. One, a train pulling up to take them out of the station (or someone else in), or, worse really, the land itself crumbling, and well, judging by quickly spreading cracks in the floor, it was the latter.
“Ghostbur!” Jimmy shouted, his heart beating a million miles per hour, “Grab my hand!” His friend quickly reached out and did so. They locked eyes, fear coursing through both of them.
“I really hope this works,” Ghostbur whispered, and, as cracks formed below their feet, Jimmy nodded. He braced himself for just a moment, and only when a bit of the floor fell away did he jump back, back into the suffocating void of nothingness.
They floated in place for a moment, Ghostbur looking relieved when they didn’t instantly fall, but the hopeful expression was quickly gone when he realised that he couldn’t get air in. He looked at Jimmy panic spreading across his face as he clawed at his throat, the bit of blue fabric still clutched in between his fingers. Jimmy simply nodded, himself feeling the effect of the air deprivation, but he was so shocked with the feeling of being there, in true limbo, that he forgot to get them out.
Ghostbur seemed to realise that Jimmy was frozen but after a few moments of struggling against the inky darkness he realised he could not move them. Terror was on his face as the blue stuff began to soak his chest, he clawed at Jimmy, shaking him as best he could in the antigravity, which of course wasn’t that great. ...which didn’t matter all that much, because Solidarity thankfully remembered what was happening and began to struggle against the current of the void.
It was like he was drowning again, burning pain filling his body as he did everything in his power to keep his mouth shut. (Because if he didn’t it would just hurt more.) It had been… so long, since he had been here, that he had nearly forgotten how to maneuver in it, and thanks to Ghostbur’s extra weight, and the poster in his hands, it was even more difficult than it needed to be.
But still he struggled, fought against the weight, kicking his legs and hard as he could, willing himself to move, really anything that would work, and, eventually, they began to move. He hugged Ghostbur to his chest, trying to tell the poor ghost that they would get there soon, just to please, please hold on. They began to really move now, and he was hurtling through space again, the familiar feeling of panic amplified now that he had a friend to worry about, as far as he knew Ghostbur might not be able to survive this.
They moved along, Ghostbur’s body shaking as he lost every last bit of oxygen, trying to hold on just a bit longer-
They were almost there, one kick…
Two kicks.
Three kicks. Ghostbur fell limp.
Four kicks-
Solidarity tumbled to the ground, rolling through the grass and staying there. He inhaled so shakily and violently, one could have thought he was actually dying… erm, again. But after just a few seconds of regaining sensation in his limbs, he forced himself to sit up, turning to Ghostbur’s body lying still in the flowers.
“What-!” he heard a familiar voice from behind him, and then running footsteps, but he couldn’t turn to Scott and tell him how much he missed him yet, no, he had to save his friend.
“Ghostbur!” He yelled, his voice gravely and broken, and he gasped as a bit of the dark sludge dripped out of it, splashing pathetically next to the poor ghost. He shook him, not paying attention to Scott’s fraintic gasp and questions as Solidarity tried to wake his friend up.
“Please just… just be alive!” he inhaled sharply and pressed onto Ghostbur’s chest, hoping that the movement would dislodge some of the ink.
Ghostbur coughed and sat up, narrowly avoiding Jimmy’s forehead on the way. He was shaking violently, shivering and gasping for air as blackness poured from his mouth only resting as it mixed with the blue soaking his body.
“Oh my go-” Scott cut himself off, running forwards and pushing Jimmy out of the way to properly reach the injured ghost. As his husband lay in the grass, Scott began to ask Ghostbur questions. Things like, “How are you here?!”, “What happened to your sweatshirt?”, and most importantly, “Are you okay?”
He wanted to ask Scott why he wasn’t asking him if he was okay, but Jimmy knew this was important, so he stayed right where he was, staring at the sky, which was somehow blue again.
Any worry he had evaporated when Ghostbur spoke, his voice still as echoey as ever, despite the clear lack of a station around them. “I’m okay,” he said shakily, before turning to look at Jimmy, and obviously worried, he asked, “Mr. Solidarity, are you okay?”
Jimmy nodded, feeling tears drip down the sides of his face as he did, “Yeah I’m okay Ghostbur,” he slowly sat up, and, looking at his husband and his friend, he realised he never wanted this moment to end, “I’m just alright,”
-- - - - -
It had been a few weeks since they had arrived here, and Jimmy had no way to explain to himself quite how much he had missed the sun and the real stars. It was really home, beautifully decorated and exactly what they had always wanted it to be, with the uh, small addition of a little ghost friend. Apparently, Scott and WIlbur had known each other (who Wilbur was Jimmy didn’t know) and because of that bond, Scott and Ghostbur got along quite well. And of course Ghostbur and Jimmy had become great friends over the course of their existence at the train station.
Another thing Jimmy hadn’t known he would miss was real water, and the ability to get out of it when it felt icky. The first time he had gone swimming he was hesitant to get in the lake, explaining that he just didn’t trust himself in it, he would find a way to forget where he was and drown he was sure. And so Scott had gone swimming without him. (Ghostbur stating rather plainly that water burned him, and then heading off to go pick some of the flowers that scattered the grass.) But after a bit of watching Scott splash around, still in his full normal outfit, Jimmy decided that it would be fun.
When Ghostbur returned he found the two flower husbands happily sitting in the water and talking to each other. He had waited there for a moment apparently, unseen and listening to his two friends talk about random things, but had soon grown bored and told them he was there. (Which jumpscared Scott so hard he nearly flew out of the pool.) Jimmy and Ghostbur found this very funny, and decided that it was a point in any future prank war that would start.
...and start it did.
In just a month back in his home, Jimmy had decided to initiate a proper prank war, telling Ghostbur before he told Scott of course, they had gotten a lot of ideas back when it was just the two of them. … So of course they had to be a team against Scott. Everyone found it funny, and everyone found it especially funny when Scott managed to win despite being outnumbered by 50% or something.
Of course, like in all things, it was not perfect, (Every relationship, whether it be friendly or something more, argues from time to time.) but it was pretty darn close. Ghostbur had come up with the idea that when someone wanted to apologize, they would go and get the pufferfish of peace and bring it to whoever they had been arguing with. (It was working shockingly well so far, and made a use for an item that would have otherwise brought bad memories.)
Once, Ghostbur fell into the lake, but he was so quickly saved that he promised them it didn’t hurt at all. Of course they still made sure he stayed far away from the water for a long while after that. (Not because they didn’t trust him, but because they were worried for him.) After they became more relaxed on it however, Ghostbur told them, through laughter’s tears, that he had really quite liked the rule because, “Sometimes the side of things are slippery,”
And that was how they were brought to this moment, two months into being out of that awful void, sitting next to each other and watching the sunset, pure blue flower crowns rested upon their heads (Ghostbur made them.) and a pretty roof built over them… (Scott made it.) It was them that Jimmy realized, he was glad to be on the edge of the universe with these two.
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whocalledhimannux · 4 years ago
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@peregrer the What. 👀👀👀 *insert John Mulaney gif of "say more right now"*
ok so when I say "the extent to which I've fleshed out the QT GBBO AU in my head is getting to be embarrassing," I truly and deeply mean it, please enjoy 1,900 words of utter ridiculousness.
first, our competitors:
Legarus - performs so poorly that viewers are a bit confused how he got on the show in the first place, a la Jamie (series 10) or that one guy who made a lime and chocolate cake in the first week.
Chloe - nice flavors and good ideas for decorations, but pretty sloppy. was up for elimination in the first week but came back with a great showstopper.
Melheret - good but not as good as he thinks he is (hence his bread week elimination because of sloppy technique), heavy-handed with the alcohol flavoring
Agape - solid competitor, not flashy but tasty + pretty results. I haven't worked out exact week-by-week themes (that would indeed be Too Much) but I imagine this is something like "Dairy" or "Caramel" or "Vegan," some particular element she just happens to not be strong on. viewers are disappointed by her early elimination
Teleus - Dad contestant. brings in a bunch of weird pans and gadgets he made up himself, does pretty well until it comes to Fiddly Foreign Foods he doesn't know (probably eliminated in French or Patisserie week)
Laela - typically has good flavors and pretty designs but technical knowledge is a bit lacking, so there are usually some flaws in the execution and she's often in the bottom half of technicals
Phresine - Grandma contestant. nails the classics but ultimately isn't creative enough to make it further.
Magus - the "Ian (series 6)" flavor of Dad contestant, often brings in foraged ingredients or eggs from his own chickens or whatnot and revives old recipes/flavor combinations no one else knows about. one week, some of those turn out to just be too weird, leading to his elimination.
Sophos - pretty elaborate decorations and good flavors (on the border of classic and new), but he tends to try a million different embellishments on everything and struggles with timing, occasionally to the detriment of technique.
Kamet - always has really interesting and different flavors and tends to do well in technicals especially, assuming he doesn't get overwhelmed. which is... an assumption (Finalist)
Costis - leans towards classic and indulgent flavors, although sometimes a bit sloppy--the kind of contestant where the judges look at his dishes and say "it's a bit of a mess" and then Paul Hollywood starts laughing because it still tastes delicious (Finalist)
Irene - absolutely stunning visually, queen of the technicals, occasionally gets the "style over substance" warning (Winner)
more details below the cut
I've gone back and forth on whether Eugenides should be in it but ultimately I decided no because I wanted to maintain a pre-show relationship between Laela + Kamet (I thought otherwise at first but then I realized I hadn't left Kamet any longterm friends or family for his finalist video and that's depressing af) and Irene and Sophos which to my knowledge hasn't happened once on the show so far? so having a married couple on top of that seems like it would be a stretch, and also then I think I'd need to make Eugenides the winner on principle and you know what? he can stand to be second fiddle to his wife for a little bit. My alternate backstory for him is that he was actually the winner of MasterChef one year (good with knives), so in the first episode Irene's first little chat to camera is something like "my husband's been bugging me for years to try out and I keep telling him he's got a skewed perspective on cooking competitions, finally I applied just to shut him up... and here we are." Her little video introduction is about how baking is a stress relief from her bigshot job. Her decorations tend to be abstract and gorgeous rather than cutesy.
Kamet, likewise, was nagged into applying by Laela, but she very cleverly framed it as she wanted to apply and wanted him to do it to for moral support. both were confident the other would get in and surprised that they did themselves. This is one of those series where everyone's friendships are immediate and obvious and super adorable (cast of series 10 my beloved...), and in particular these two are holding hands in episode 1. Laela's deep blue robe from TaT sticks in my head for whatever reason so I imagine her making an elaborate blue peacock cake or something one week that wins her star baker. somebody always does a peacock something and it's always impressiev.
Phresine is cool as a cucumber under pressure, always has lovely things to say about everyone else's bakes, and is the go-to last-minute helper because she usually comes in under the time. Irene starts out similar but as the weeks go by she starts to feel the pressure a bit more and cuts it a bit close. Sophos is the worst on timings, and mentions his wife at least once an episode. (I also played with him being single on the show and meeting Helen later through Irene and Eugenides, but this idea is too cute to pass up tbh.) Teleus lives with Relius, a fact that isn't mentioned until a few weeks in when he comments that Relius likes a recipe or gave him an idea for a flavor or something (Relius does not bake himself but will happily sample practice bakes), to the surprised delight of every viewer whose favorite contestant is the oldest gay in any given series (me, me, that person is me).
Costis tends to use a lot of chocolate and, as I said, pretty "classic" flavors--one of those people who makes a full English savory bake at some point. He's usually in the top half of the competition but doesn't get the top until one of the later weeks in the competition, which is a Honey themed week, and he absolutely nails it. The delicate decorations of his honey nut cakes and his use of honeycomb are particularly praised and that's the week he gets star baker. One of those bakers who flirts with elimination the first few weeks but noticeably improves over the course of the show.
My most, like, plot-y ideas are about Kamet (SHOCKER). I imagine he was born in Setra (I usually make Setra a non-autonomous region in my AUs) but arrived in Britain as a child due to [Unspecified Crisis] and ended up with foster dad Jeffa, who was roughly from the same region but not Setra itself; whenever Kamet wanted Setran food as a kid, Jeffa would take him to the library to find recipes and that was what sparked his love of baking. He's well-read on the subject and knows about foods from a lot of different cultures, so he's usually heard of the technical challenges even if he hasn't made or eaten them. He does a lot of fusion flavors, and is ALL ABOUT bread week.
I don't usually make the his-relationship-with-Nahuseresh-is-romantic leap in modern AUs but I think it works for this one because of the nature of the format--Nahuseresh doesn't actually appear on camera but is alluded to once or twice, ends up being Very Displeased that Kamet is doing something for himself, and during the week following Laela's elimination they have the fight that makes Kamet realizes this is actually a terrible relationship and he needs to leave now. He calls Laela to let her know what's up and mentions that, since he'll need to stay in a motel and has presumbly lost his job as a secretary (yeah working for your boyfriend is Bad, he's realized that now), he's going to have to drop out of the show. Laela, despite living in a studio flat without room to host him, immediately thinks "um fuck that" and calls Costis, and within an hour Costis and Aris and a few rugby buddies have moved all of Kamet's things into Costis and Aris's flat, where Costis insists that he'll squeeze into Aris's room (they've shared before, it's fine) and that Kamet gets first dibs on the kitchen for all bake off practices.
None of them actually reveal any of this to the show's producers. Kamet gets a little overwhelmed the following week and nearly walks away from the tent, but Costis jumps in to keep his bake from being ruined, and some soothing words from Irene + the hosts calm him down and he returns to finish. The only mention of the Drama comes in the finale, during the longer video clips they do on each of the contestants. Kamet is deliberately vague about the details of the situation, but Aris shows up in both Costis's and Kamet's videos and references the fact that having TWO flatmates in the bake off is a bit difficult because they only have a standard size kitchen, so he hasn't cooked for himself in a month and has been living off cake and savory breads. one of the hosts talks to Kamet in the tent after that clip is shown and he still won't talk about it in more detail, but says that he wanted to tell people so they could appreciate why Costis hasn't practiced as much the last few weeks (the judges scolded him for winging it a couple of times), and admits that he totally copied some of Costis's techniques for honey week based on watching him at home.
I imagine the finale task is something like an illusion cake--probably with a bunch of additional required elements because the show has been going bonkers with the finale showstoppers in the newer seasons--and Irene wins with a jewelry box containing, among other things, ruby earrings made out of candy. Kamet does a stepwell, and Costis does something architectural (I was thinking castle but something visibly Greek-ish so maybe a temple or a megaron? idk). Irene wins but they're all BFFs and that's obvious, so everyone's delighted for her. The little montage at the end reveals that Irene + Gen are expecting twins, that everybody hangs out all the time, and that Costis + co recently helped Kamet move into his own flat where he's now working on a novel (Immakuk and Ennikar inspired, obvi, leaning heavily on the honey-shared-on-the-road thing and including some recipes that actually work in the narration, albeit still written in an ancient-novel-like-way).
[Obviously not part of the show, but when Kamet mentions that it's time for him to look for his own place, Costis tries to v awkwardly invite him to stay forever and Kamet is like "nope I've got to try this on my own but yes we will go on a date once I've moved out and see how it goes from there."]
[This is so far beyond the scope of the show but also several of them go on to have more baking-related careers and have active social media presences and at one point they're all hanging out and Eugenides pulls out a camera and demands they all produce baking pick-up lines. Teleus refuses and also doesn't believe anyone knows baking pick-up lines off the top of their head or could make them up on the spot. Sophos sort of proves him right by coming up with "you're the apple of my pie," which Eugenides instantly mocks because Sophos's three greatest loves are baking, Helen, and poetry, and that's the best he can do? Helen comes up with "I like my cake the way I like my men--rich, sweet, and bright red," to which Sophos blushes on cue. Irene's is "when I'm with you, I feel like chocolate heated to 50 degrees--I struggle to maintain my temper." Eugenides protests this is more like an anti-pickup line. Irene insists this is the most accurate marriage-related baking pun anyone could ever come up with.
[Laela's is "You and I are like custard--I hope we never split." Kamet's is "You remind me of bread, because I knead you." Costis freezes for a minute and finally comes up with "Fancy a cream horn?" which produces a lot of giggling and makes Kamet slap his arm in such a way that, hen Eugenides posts this video to instagram, fans of the show all go WAIT ARE THEY DATING NOW] [by this point, yes they are] [I didn't even have to google baking pickup lines for this, guys, I legit came up with them on my own, please clap.]
am I obsessed? I might be obsessed
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swiftgronmasterpost · 4 years ago
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Late Stage Swiftgron Part 1
Update from November 2021 - I really don’t believe much of this is meaningful at all.  I don’t think they’re sitting around referencing one another on social media or anything but some of Dianna’s interactions with Karlie are interesting Dianna shows up explicitly in Taylor’s life a couple more times so I’m leaving these sections here.;
From here on out everything but the 2014 AMAs and Dianna’s somewhat shocking appearance at Taylor’s 2019 SNL performance are just odd social media shenanigans (or subtweets) between the two, and Taylor appearing to release at least one more song about Dianna (Babe in 2018) (and let’s be honest you can make a strong argument for The 1 being about Dianna as well other post 1989 songs.)
Some of this might be complete crack or coincidence but as you all know I want this to be the most thorough Swiftgron document possible.  
If anything it proves they both certainly still have similar interests and they really do seem to be in touch.
There are some interactions claimed by others to be Swiftgron related that I’m not going to include because they’re just a bit too reachy for me (though I completely support the theorizing!) but in general, if I personally can see the hint of a Swiftgron connection, I’m going to include it here. Draw your own conclusions and take everything, particularly the alleged subtweets/social media shenanigans, with a grain of salt.
And yes there’s tons of Kaylor and other Gaylor/Gaygron content that will be left out of this segment because this masterpost is focused on Swiftgron.  Someday it would be cool to make a giant masterpost/timeline that documents all of it, but for now it’s just going to be Swiftgron stuff. August 26, 2014 - Dianna tweets, and then deletes “Withdrawals, clearly…we had fun.” 
There’s no screen shot of this tweet but some retweets/responses of it remain:
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If Dianna is indeed referencing the song Clean (in which their relationship is compared to an addiction hence, “withdrawals” from it) then Taylor would have had to give her advanced knowledge of the song since 1989 did not come out until October 2014.
Taylor did claim she ran 1989 by the muse that inspired it and they were both in LA in late August 2014. Maybe this is when.
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November 1, 2014 - Taylor posts about Clean
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November 19, 2014 - The 2014 AMAs Kaylorgron Explosion Extravaganza:
Taylor, Karlie, and Dianna are at the event.  Taylor and Karlie are clearly on a date and Dianna is there to present Sam Smith’s performance of I’m not the only one.  Dianna seems a bit out of her element/gloomy when interviewed on the red carpet and Taylor flexes Karlie hard, dancing with her throughout the night and even sitting on her lap during an interview.
Click here for photos, video, gifs, and a live L chat reaction to the night.
December 28, 2014 - The writer for the tv show The Originals, Carina Mackenzie, tweeted that 1989 was about Dianna:
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It’s of course notable that someone in the industry is “confirming” Swiftgron on main (particularly before gaylor went mainstream with Kaylor being so obvious in 2015/2016) however what’s even more interesting and notable about this tweet is that an actor named Michael Trevino was on the show The Originals and he dated Jenna Ushkowitz from 2011-2014.
Not only that but Michael was at Dianna’s 26th birthday when Taylor was in attendance as well.
It’s possible that Michael witnessed Swiftgron in real life and spilled a bit to the writer of the TV show he was on.
January 5, 2015 - Taylor likes a Swiftgron related post on Tumblr of Dianna saying she’d go on the road with Taylor and carry her bags at the Giffoni Film Festival in 2012:
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February 9, 2015 - Style is released as a single
February 13, 2015 - The Kaylor “Best Friends” on a road trip Vogue Spread comes out.  You’re probably familiar with it but if you aren’t google it.  It’s incredibly romantic and pda filled.
The Style music video is released on this day as well.
We don’t have to go through the whole video but one egg I just have to note is the cave pictured in the MV is in Morocco the same country Dianna seemed to flee to after Swiftgron was outed:
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February 14, 2015 - Dianna tweets 143 remember those days (for some reason it has not been deleted) seemingly in response to the Kaylor vogue shoot:
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143 is a code that means “I love you” that originated from Mister Rogers.  Both Taylor and Dianna have publicly shown that they are fans of his.  Taylor has even made certain songs 3 minutes and 41 seconds long seemingly referring to this number and wore a Mister Rogers pin on a jacket for a photoshoot once.
Here’s a bit more in depth analysis on the significance of the 143 post.
This tweet is how we know that it is 100% in Dianna’s character to occasionally subtweet Taylor and why a lot of this social media analysis has been done.  
February 16, 2015 - Just two days later Dianna attends a fashion show in which Karlie walks and is noted to “have kept a smirk on her face” during.  Dianna doesn’t clap at the end of the show and looks miserable in photos of the event:
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February 17, 2015 - Taylor releases Wonderland
I’m going to pause here and discuss the song Wonderland for a brief moment because it is some of the most incredibly airtight evidence for Swiftgron available.
Dianna’s favorite book of all time is Alice in Wonderland.  She brought it up in interviews all the time, tweeted about it, auctioned off a signed copy of it for charity, her private Tumblr and instagram account are called whosirmesir which is a reference to it, her private Tumblr is filled with reblogs about Alice, and her public Tumblr was called fell down the rabbit hole.
So the fact that Taylor writes an entire song describing a relationship through the lens of and packing full of references to Alice in Wonderland is incredibly interesting.
Let’s take a look at some of these lyrics:
Flashing lights and we, took a wrong turn and we Fell down the rabbit hole (literally Dianna’s tumblr name and url)
Didn't you flash your green eyes at me (Dianna is famous for her beautiful almost hypnotic green eyes and yes they are green)
Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds (queer coded)
Too in love to think straight (queer coded)
But there were strangers watching And whispers turned to talking And talking turned to screams (seems to reference when they were outed) You searched the world for something else (Dianna very publicly went travelling around the world right after April 2013 when they seem to break up)
Taylor literally put Dianna’s Tumblr URL in the song.  Frankly I’m kind of shocked she released this song at all it is so obviously and clearly about Dianna.  Truly a Swiftgron anthem!
Back to the timeline...
March 8, 2015 - Taylor posts Flamingos for her dad’s birthday:
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The caption was “Happy Birthday, Dad. Thanks for all the unconditional love, sarcastic comments, and interesting Christmas presents.”
May 1, 2015 - Dianna posts a flamingo for her birthday (post is now deleted):
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The caption was “This is 29. Spoiled rotten. Funny enough, at work they were painting the hallways white and the roses (hallway doors) red, then I actually went to Wonderland (@AliceUnderLdn) and came home to a surprise flamingo. Here we go. Another year around the sun…feeling lucky and loved and loved and lucky.”
Taylor also gave Emily, another rumored ex, a flamingo bandana for her birthday.  i also think it’s odd that Dianna mentions Wonderland specifically in the post.
January 15, 2016 - Dianna’s engagement to Winston is announced and Kaylors notice Taylor is liking sad posts on Tumblr including several posts related to Clean:
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November 7, 2016 - Lorde’s birthday party where Kaylor is together in public for the last time for 20 months.
January 5, 2017 - Claire (who is still very close with Taylor) comments on one of Dianna’s Instagram posts):
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March 2, 2017 - Dianna posts her James Dean inStyle UK photo to Instagram:
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This is actually the second time she has posted this as a throwback photo.  She also posted it on February 4, 2016 with simply the caption “TBT” and did not include the “rebel without a clue” bit which is a reference to James Dean (Rebel Without a Cause). She’s never posted the same TBT photo twice before or after this (as of the writing of this post in October 2020).
It I may be permitted to go real far out on a limb here it’s almost as if she wanted people to connect that photo of her in the UK InStyle magazine to James Dean.  James Dean is of course the way Taylor describes her lover in the song Style.  
At any rate it’s very odd that it’s the only photo she’s posted twice whether it’s related to Taylor or not.
April 25, 2017 - Fans notice Dianna is having her script tattoo removed:
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This is significant because a part of the tattoo was dedicated to Alice in Wonderland - it said “We’re all mad here” 
Tattoo removal is a years long process:
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So it’s possible she started getting it removed around the time that Wonderland came out.
It’s also possible part of the tattoo was dedicated to Lea (the part that said “here I am”) so this whole removal situation is very interesting.
In 2019 she was still getting it removed and commented this at a Cafe Carlyle session:
"i was like i don't know i wanna explain all my tattoos or the one that i'm getting removed on my side...you know you're like...WHATEVER we're stopping we're moving on"
February 13, 2018 - Dianna attends the Carolina Herrera fashion show, so does Karlie. Dianna is introduced to Karlie by Derek Blasberg and very audibly calls Karlie “gorgeoouusss” as they meet. 
Kayda play “Gorgeous” by Taylor Swift.
vimeo
Click here to keep reading!
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siratrem · 3 years ago
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I need to nerd out about Haikyuu right now (Season 1 Episode 1) (manga spoilers)
I have nobody that I can nerd out about Haikyuu with so I’ll do it here.
My first introduction to volleyball was through Haikyuu and watching reactors from coaches and players on YouTube really expanded my understanding of this manga/anime. Now that I’ve finished the manga and watched all available episodes (more than once) I want to see why I find this shounen sports anime so bloody compelling.
A good beginning sets up the middle and end. The opening scene of Haikyuu is the famous “a tall, tall wall looms before me…”. Before the rewatch, I had it in my head that the scene after the opening (Hinata seeing the Little Giant on TV) was the first scene. So, no, Furudate-sensei actually started this chapter at the end – Hinata is already in the Karasuno gym, he’s already scared of the block, and he’s lining up with the shoes of five of his teammates. This is a common framing technique – sets up the question of “how did we get here?”.
On my first watch of Haikyuu, I didn’t know anything about volleyball. I have, however, watched a fair amount of anime, including shounen. I think my inexperience actually helped me understand why Hinata was so awestruck by the Little Giant when he saw him on TV.
I knew the premise of the anime – tiny Shoyo wants to play a sport made for tall people – but rewatching it actually confused me. This scene is set 3-4 years before even making it to Karasuno, so Shoyo is, what, 11? He doesn’t know how tall he’s going to be, so why was he fixated on this “small” player going up against the bigger blockers? I mean, he could still be small for his age and be self-conscious about it, I guess, but not like he would be at 15. Then I thought – maybe it’s because the Little Giant jumped so high?
Shoyo is small, yes, but he can jump high. This is a defining aspect of his character. This was also the moment Shoyo became interested in volleyball, from what I can tell. So, if he’s as inexperienced as me, he wouldn’t be able to see the technique that the Little Giant used to defeat the big blockers. In his little kid head, maybe he assumed that the Little Giant beat the blockers because he jumped so high. So, perhaps little Shoyo thought: hey, I can jump high → I’ll be good at volleyball.
Themes
What are the overarching themes of Haikyuu shown in this episode?
Friendship. This is a Shounen anime, after all. Hinata makes friends wherever he goes, but it’s not until the match in this episode (and later Karasuno) that he finds a place that he belongs. Hinata has a wide variety of friends and is lovable enough to both get Izumi and Koji to join his team and make them emotional about the game.
Kageyama takes a liking to him from this match (although whether Mr Grumpy himself even recognises this is up to interpretation). From the moment they snap at each other in the hallway outside the gym bathroom to that beautiful jump that scores the first genuine point for Hinata’s team, Kageyama is intrigued by the bouncing ball of sunshine. After the match is finished, Kageyama snaps at Hinata “what were you doing for the last three years?”. He’s the first person to see Hinata’s potential, although Hinata takes it as an insult. It’s okay – they just don’t know each other yet.
Rivalry. Kageyama vs Hinata. Later (ep 6 minor spoilers??): Karasuno (Hinata and Kageyama) versus Aoba Johsai (Kunimi and Kindaichi). Shoyo sees Kageyama as the biggest barrier to his dream of playing volleyball. He wants to defeat him with all his being: if he can defeat the strong player, then he will be the strong player.
Victory and defeat. Duh. It’s a sports anime. One team plays another in a game where only one can win. Hinata is sure he is capable – he’s over-confident and inexperienced. He doesn’t know what good volleyball looks like, let alone how to implement it. But he’s also a show-off – a facet of his personality I didn’t really grasp until season 4. He wants the recognition the Little Giant got. He wants a stadium of people to go “wow, did you see him jump? Did you see how he beat the three-man block? Oh my god, he’s so amazing”. I’m sure the cool nickname – the Little Giant – caught his attention as well. So if he tries hard and jumps high enough, he’ll win, right?
Yeah. Poor baby learns a very harsh lesson. This defeat is crushing. He jumped high, like the Little Giant, but he couldn’t defeat the block. Those looming hands haunt him – “a tall, tall wall looms before me…”. This is a barrier he can’t overcome and he doesn’t know *why...*You can see it on his face after the block – ‘huh? I copied the Little Giant’. This sets up the goal of the first season: Hinata needs to learn how to see what’s at the top, the other side of that tall wall. He needs to hit rock-bottom before he can start climbing up.
Kageyama’s team won because it was a better team. Kitagawa Daichi is a powerhouse on the Miyagi junior high volleyball scene. I don’t know if it’s a private school, but it’s a feeder school for Aoba Johsai, which is a private school. Both seem to have a specialism in volleyball training. Maybe if Hinata went to Kitagawa Daichi, [Manga spoilers] if he’d been introduced to volleyball as early as Kageyama was, maybe he’d already be a monster. Or maybe his natural instincts would have been trained out of him. It’s important to the story that Hinata starts off as an untrained underdog, deprived of good volleyball and hungry for victory.
Team versus the individual. Kitagawa Daichi was the favourite to win the whole tournament. It’s a powerhouse team with more players than can fit on the bench. They’re tall, they’re scary, they’re elite. The team members often go on to Aoba Johsai, a high school powerhouse. Hinata’s school didn’t even have a team until he came along. They’re small (exactly 6 players, no reserves, no libero). His teammates don’t even know the rules for the game. Hinata had to fight tooth and nail to get on the court. However, he’s encouraging to his team members and dedicated. He’s glowing at just being there. He wants to win, of course, but most of all he wants to play volleyball.
Volleyball is a team sport. “The team that wins is the one with the strongest six players”. However, at times, it seems like both Hinata and Kageyama are the only ones really playing on their teams. Kageyama is giving it his all, yelling at his team for not keeping up with him and slacking off. Hinata is the only one on his team who wants to be there, the only one who wants to play. He’s hitting the most spikes, jumping the highest, playing the best (not that that’s saying much). This match, in a large way, is Kageyama versus Hinata.
Talent. Kageyama is a genius setter. (Manga spoilers:) He was raised in a family of volleyball players (one of which is an alumnus of Shiratorizawa for christ’s sake). He’s enamoured with the sport – obsessed with it. He lives and breathes volleyball. (Manga spoilers:) he keeps a volleyball journal where he records and analyses every play, practice and game he’s ever made. He’s tall and strong and athletic. He goes to a school with a good volleyball training programme. He’s built for this game.
Hinata is (superhumanly) athletic. He can run fast and jump high. But he’s short and untrained. His talent is raw and unrefined. But it’s still enough to catch Kageyama’s attention.
Characters
Furudate-sensei is a fan of the Meaningful Name™ convention. This is actually fairly common in Japanese culture anyway: traditionally baby names are carefully chosen to reflect the parents’ aspirations for the children. (I also don't speak Japanese so I'm going off other people's translations for the kanji).
HINATA SHOYO (日向 翔陽) - “sun place” “soaring sunlight”. He’s a bouncing ball of sunshine who makes friends wherever he goes and jumps really high. He’s a shounen protagonist to his core: boundless enthusiasm, determination, friendship, the underdog. He’s also a magnetic hero.
This episode needs to cement the key aspects of Shoyo’s personality. He’s outgoing and “magnetic” – he makes friends with people from all walks of life. He is an underdog. Everyone loves an underdog, right? Effort and passion should be rewarded. The good guys should win. This episode really sets up how hard little Shoyo had to fight to be on the court and how he’s willing to fight to stay on it. The flashback occurring the moment he walks into the gym for his first tournament demonstrates this nicely: his junior high school didn’t have a team or a real club, none of his friends was interested in volleyball (although they were athletes of various persuasions) and he spent most of his time practising by himself against the wall or begging his friends to set the ball for him.
It’s okay, though: he has the magnetism of a true Shounen protagonist and not only manages to talk his friends into occasionally throwing the ball to him but also drags them to a tournament of a sport they’ve never played and don’t really understand. He’s also managed to talk some first-years into joining the team. Shoyo is very magnetic and I wonder how much he’s aware of it at this point. He’s not exactly reflective or a deep thinker.
He’s enthusiastic and determined. He will play volleyball to his full capabilities until the match point. When his teammate worries about getting hurt after watching him run into a wall, his response is “I don’t understand [why you want to slow down]. We haven’t lost yet”. It ain’t over until it’s over.
KAGEYAMA TOBIO (影山 飛雄) - “Shadow Mountain” “Flying Hero”. What are his main traits? He’s volleyball mad, he’s ambitious and competitive, he’s tall, he’s athletic and strong, and he’s grumpy. Also intimidating – to his opponents and his teammates. The second-years on his team are scared of him. He hates to hear them trash-talking other players as they are only benchwarmers. He’s a setter – a control freak who takes every match he plays seriously, no matter the opponent. He will win at his best, dammit, and without holding back. He especially seems annoyed that the benchwarmers on his team place themselves above Hinata, even though they’re not even good enough to be regulars. “Don’t ride the coat-tails”, he tells them.
He wants to beat the block and the faster the attack, the better the hit, he believes. If people can’t keep up with him, that’s their fault. His sets are perfect. They need to keep up with him. If only they were as fast as Hinata, and capable of hitting difficult sets like when Izumi fumbles the ball and Shoyo leaps to save it and hits it anyway. They score their first genuine point off that, and Kageyama is impressed.
Kageyama and Shoyo are opposites, but they’re also mirrors of each other. Both are reckless: Kageyama throws reckless sets and Shoyo will leap for the ball even if he has to crash into walls and what-have-you. Both want to win. Both have their talents. Both love volleyball.
Something I found interesting is how the characters are in “sets”. Shoyo and Kageyama, obviously – their relationship is one of the major focuses of the whole series. The secondary characters too: Kunimi and Kindaichi to Kageyama and Izumi and Koji to Shoyo. They share the same jersey numbers: Kindaichi and Izumi are #5 and Kunimi and Koji are #6. These “sets” of minor characters only exist in the narrative in relation to each other. If Kindaichi appears, Kunimi is never far behind.
Izumi and Koji are third-years at this point, so why are their numbers lower than the first years? I realised (at the end of the episode) that Shoyo actually talked the first years into joining the volleyball club, not just the tournament team. Shoyo inspired a new generation of volleyball players – something he continues to do throughout the series.
Kindaichi and Kunimi are often showed in the background of Kageyama’s shots. Kunimi is the first person to serve in the game – he gets a few service aces. Kindaichi is the ace(?) of the team, often shown spiking Kageyama’s sets. This is an example of the subtle manipulation of the audience: hinting that these faces will reappear. It’s the same kind of story-telling that makes the reactors I’ve watched feel so smart when they predict something. The author wants you to notice them. The author is practically hanging a sign over them saying “remember these two!”.
When Kindaichi almost misses a reckless toss from Kageyama and expresses surprise that they managed to score from it, Kageyama responds “Faster!”, which makes Kindaichi irritated. Kunimi complain about his sets with him – Kunimi makes a comment about not having to work so hard as they’re outclassing Hinata’s team by miles – but Kageyama is taking the game seriously.
Kunimi and Kageyama squabble over Kunimi’s “laziness” – he doesn’t run for balls when they’re far enough in points, he doesn’t see why they have to try hard against such a weak and untrained team.
Kindaichi and Kageyama argue over Kageyama’s sets. Kageyama is the self-centred King of the Court after all. I think Kindaichi is actually a friendly sweetheart – and he seems to interact with Kageyama the most and deals with most of his sets. These missed friendships are missed opportunities for the three of them. (Manga spoilers): Kageyama shows he wants to be friends and play with them as adults.
Then, there are the Karasuno players. No faces, just those awesome black club jackets. I love those things. I now know that they are Suga, Daichi and Tanaka, but Furudate-sensei is good at building tension and anticipation by hiding their faces.
They appear in the stands at the junior high tournament, talking about Hinata and Kageyama’s match. Suga comments on Kageyama being “the King of the Court”. Ep 2 spoiler: Suga is a setter. Of course he’s going to appreciate Kageyama. Daichi also appreciates the overwhelming talent. It’s Tanaka who bets on Hinata becoming a threat. Tanaka seems to like Hinata’s spirit and athleticism. Ep 2 spoilers: He’s also the main hitter for the team at this point, so as the setter recognises the setter, the hitter acknowledges the hitter.
We later see them upon Shoyo’s arrival at Karasuno amongst the other clubs gathering applicants. Shimizu is also there. Daichi comments on the limited selection of applicants – this sets up the fact that Karasuno has been in decline: the “flightless crows” and such. There’s character establishing moments: Suga trying to cheer up Daichi and Tanaka flirting (and getting shut down) by Shimizu.
The Little Giant. Shoyo’s inspiration and hero, who shapes the entire course of his life. The 170 cm wing spiker makes him fall in love with volleyball and determined to enter Karasuno High School. Interesting how Shoyo never mentions his name. Maybe he doesn’t know it? He doesn’t really seem to understand the Little Giant at all. (Manga spoilers): I think this is why, by the time we meet Tenma Udai, he isn’t upset about his hero leaving volleyball behind. Now that he understands volleyball, he knows that he could never be the Little Giant anyway. Their play styles are different. Their positions are different. Shoyo can now be himself, forge his own playstyle – Ninja Shoyo, the ultimate decoy.
One thing I like about the characters is how their personalities/character development reflect their play styles, which becomes more apparent later on.
Motifs
“A tall, tall wall looms before me…”. This is the opening (and closing) of the season. It’s Shoyo’s greatest barrier – a literal wall holding him back from scoring. He can’t overcome it on his own, so, as shown in the opening scene, he needs the five other players on his side to get through it.
Crows (obvs). I find it funny to watch non-weeb reactors who don’t know what “Karasu” means. There are crows everywhere in this anime*.* The first time Shoyo sees the Little Giant jump, he sees black crow wings over the arms and gets blasted by crow feathers. Inspiration – seeing a human fly. Shoyo is now hooked on volleyball. When Shoyo’s running to the volleyball gym on Karasuno campus, he startles a crow who drops a feather in his face.
King of the Court. Before Shoyo even hears Kageyama’s nickname, he sees him wearing a cape and crown. The crowd (which Furudate-sensei often uses for exposition) also give him that name, and then Suga repeats it. When Kageyama appears in the hallway outside the bathroom, Shoyo sees him wearing the same outfit. Of course, Shoyo thinks this is a great thing – a reflection of his talent and powerful aura. Kageyama sets too fast for Kindaichi during the warm-ups and criticises him. Kindaichi rolls his eyes and half-heartedly apologies. The coach scolds him and tells him that the best set is the easiest for the hitter to spike.
Face receives. 2. 1 with a football (soccer) to Shoyo’s face, the other when Koji misses a receive.
“I can jump”. Shoyo says it to Kageyama while he’s being chastised for talking big. Izumi says it to Shoyo when they’re trying to sike themselves up for their match.
The pre-game bathroom break. Shoyo gets nervous after seeing Kitagawa Daichi and runs to the bathroom, only to run into players from the opposing team. This is a running gag throughout the series.
I don’t know if this counts, but I saw Shiratorizawa jackets in the crowd at the junior high tournament.
Many Youtube reactors commented on how Shoyo runs everywhere. He runs through the Karasuno campus on the way to the gym. The bouncing ball of sunshine has one gear: zoom. Similarly, Kageyama sets fast while Shoyo can cross the volleyball court in the blink of an eye. Their play styles complete each other.
Jersey numbers. Shoyo is 1, Kageyama is 2. When they get their jerseys (spoiler maybe?), Kageyama is 9 and Shoyo is 10. This is the only time Shoyo’s jersey number is higher than Kageyama. (Manga spoilers): in the V-league, Kageyama is 20, Shoyo is 21, then 9 and 10 again in the Olympics. As mentioned above, Kindaichi and Izumi are #5 and Kunimi and Koji are #6.
“One more” - mou ikkai. Hinata will forever ask for one more chance to play volleyball. He asks Izumi to set for him despite his complaints.
“The strong get to remain on the court”. Shoyo has to be good at volleyball to play volleyball. He wasn’t good enough to beat Kageyama, so he only got to play 31 minutes before having to leave, while everyone else got to play more games. Kageyama is used to winning at this point and only values people who can stay on the court.
Plot
Kageyama versus Hinata. This is arguably the main plot point of the series. Hinata wants to win and Kageyama defeats him. Hinata sees him as a good player, so if he also wants to be a good player, he needs to be able to outplay him. Kageyama envies his natural jumping height and speed. They argue and fight and challenge and inspire each other – destined rivals. Such a shounen trope.
Hinata is an underdog who had to fight to stay on the court. He didn’t have a coach, he didn’t have a team. Kind of an aside, but somehow he has good jumping form (according to Coach Donny) which seems to confuse volleyball players who react to Haikyuu. They wonder why he doesn’t know how to change his spike direction and forget that he’s new to the sport. As someone who doesn’t know anything about volleyball form, I found this interesting.
Hinata is willing to put the work in to develop his skills. At the beginning of the episode, he is horrified when a teacher suggests he joins the girl’s volleyball team but asks them for help (along with the 1st years who seem to be permanent members now) at the end of the episode during the montage. He also studies for the High School entrance exams and makes it into Karasuno – his determination has paid off and he wants to go to his dream school even if he has to bike over the mountains every day.
Kitagawa Daichi is in the newspaper/magazines stating their defeat. This is foreshadowing the downfall of Kageyama and the King of the Court and sort of the big plot twist at the end of the episode:
“I’m finally at Karasuno!” Shoyo thinks, running to his first meet at the gymnasium. Then...Boom – Kageyama. His sworn rival is now his teammate.
I'm sure I missed a whole lot of stuff but this was what caught my attention.
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shiningjoy · 4 years ago
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so i’ve finally watched s3 of free! and i wanted to put my thoughts in about it and hopefully also get some ppl to reply (respectfully) with their own input? also sorry if my knowledge of free seems spotty or incomplete since i don’t obviously have all free lore burned into my head so pls inform or correct me on anything i’m missing!
anyways before even watching s3, i noticed it was pretty widespread that s3 was rather disappointing or at least fell short to s1&2. and not only that, but i could see that s3 was likely going to be a bit disappointing just bc of how many less ppl were interested in it or even knew about it (ofc popularity=/=good but i doubted that the loss in numbers was just bc time had passed) sadly, the season actually exceeded my expectations of the worst.
first of all, i think way too many characters were introduced without any need of them being there. ofc not all of them seemed worthless to being there, but i think at least half of them didn’t have a need of being there (or at least didn’t need to appear as much as they did) or they could’ve at least waited to introduce them. don’t get me wrong, i loved characters like isuzu and albert, but with how little they appeared or added to the plot, i don’t think they were necessary at all. they introduced so many characters and kind of tried to forcefully endear them to us but it just seemed really shallow and random. i was really uninterested in the new iwatobi hs sc tbh (i love rei and nagisa, but i just don’t feel anything for the new members tho it was funny how the new manager is interested in fat instead of muscles) i don’t think isuzu was worth introducing, but i do get why they introduced albert at least. he was supposed to serve as their first rival introduced strictly from the professional world, and to emphasize there are many people above them not just in japan but the “world stage” but i definitely think they could’ve waited on that until the free 2021 movie tbh. plus i felt that any conflict he brought to haru was resolved within 1 maybe 2 episodes so yea they definitely didn’t really need him bc he hasn’t had much impact (yet) if anything, they could’ve just had him briefly appear at that training camp haru was at to race him and beat him to remind him that he still has a long way to go to get to the top. but all other appearances of albert were so extra and unnecessarily emphasized how inhumanely talented he was (the arcade scene, the thing with the chopsticks,etc) it just felt like really weak foreshadowing
also, the main conflict in s3 was just way too prolonged and solved unsatisfactorily. first of all, i don’t know why the blame seemed to be shifted by ikuya and hiyori almost solely to haru, like yes he was the one who quit first but it wasn’t an attack specifically to ikuya and the rest of them left too, so they should’ve held more grudges on haru makoto and asahi rather than just haru (or if anything at least have more blame on asahi bc makoto at least talked to ikuya beforehand) like did he just forget asahi also made a promise to not move away? honestly from the content they gave us, i’d argue that asahi and ikuya were actually closer than how ikuya and haru were, since i feel like most of the latter relationship was based on ikuya admiring harus swimming.
second of all, hiyori was another character i found so unnecessary and just weirdly protective over ikuya. he repeatedly gets in the way between them and ikuya when ikuya never said he didn’t want to talk to them (and it’s not like talking to them is gonna give him a health relapse) and so he just seemed to be there to prolong the conflict between them which was irritating. not even natsuya, ikuya’s actual brother, was that obsessive over him so i really don’t get hiyori. even sousuke, who was actually friends with rin before haru and the others were was not that possessive over rin, and there was actually pretty good reasoning why he had a grudge against haru (he didn’t see haru taking swimming as seriously as rin and thought that would cause him to hold back rin who looked up to haru, and was jealous that haru who had the talent to swim the world stage with rin wasn’t taking advantage of it when sousuke wanted to but couldnt bc of his injury) and like what right did he have to say to haru that his swimming hurts others when it didn’t even affect ikuya negatively (instead it inspired him and led to him wanting to swim like haru) like how haru originally thought it did to rin and how it did to asahi in high speed 2?
third of all, like i said before the way they solved the conflict between ikuya and the rest made little sense. like yes harus swimming is magical but i don’t get how swimming IM with him could instantly solve all the problems between them. (ik that it was based on the promise they made to race each other but i’ll get into that part and how shallow it felt later) if anything, i think what would’ve been more impactful was something happening to ikuya that made him realize that he can/should rely on/trust others, (maybe a more serious accident?) and enjoy swimming with a team and not just alone since his personal conflict was that he thought swimming alone was better than swimming with others when actually he was lonely (at least it was in starting days). and that wouldn’t even have to be with haru and the others that he learns that lesson. it could be with his own university team and hiyori, which would give hiyori a much better purpose of being there. (or they could’ve just not had him exist) if they were so inclined to have closure between ikuya and the other boys by having them resolve ikuyas personal conflict, i feel like it should’ve been at least haru AND asahi (maybe even makoto too but idk how thatd work when he’s no longer competing) racing him in the same race (if not them doing a relay but i guess they didn’t want to make it too obvious than they already were that they were just recycling the plot of s1 (lol)) if anything i think they could’ve even waited for them to reconcile while they were on the olympic team, but ig kyoani didn’t want to wait that long to reintroduce ikuya and wanted to use s3 to warm ppl up to the idea of ikuya being on the olympic team which they didn’t do very well considering how bad the development was
also what was with ikuya saying he swims his own way while obviously taking sm inspiration fron the way haru swam? it was so contradictory and even as kids haru told ikuya to swim his own way when ikuya told him that he wanted to be like haru and he understood that obviously but didn’t apply that to his actions at all? and i’m surprised haru was ok with ikuya blatantly copying him when i vaguely rmb that he’s been shown to get annoyed with even makoto when he seemed to be doing that?
another fault in having all these characters was that haru’s actual personality seemed to be taken away for the sake of these characters.
they wanted to establish a deeper relationship between ikuya and haru, but it just seemed so off the way they went about it in free! haru promising ikuya to race him just felt so ooc to me and had little emotional impact tbh bc of the lack of reasoning i felt haru had to agree to such a thing besides him promising ikuya that just bc he asked rather than bc he actually wanted to race ikuya. (while it took rin weeks to get haru to warm up to him and then agree to the relay, and seeing the process of haru getting used to the idea then openly enjoying swimming with the others was really touching) i think they just added that to make harus quitting have more impact on ikuya but i don’t think it was necessary at all when they already made plans with the rest to swim the relay again and win. if they wanted to make it seem like ikuya and haru had more of a one on one relationship with each other they should’ve gone into more about how haru saw the same darkness in ikuya that he did in himself like in high speed 2. make them bond over their similarities since i’m pretty sure ikuyas purpose as a character is to give haru a rival that is like how sousuke is to rin is; which is being rivals while being two of the same person. (in contrast to haru and rin who are very different and are rivals that inspire each other) but the way they try to establish the relationship between ikuya and haru pales sm in comparison to sousuke and rin that it’s a bit laughable, even more so in those occasional moments where they try to act like ikuya can measure up to rin’s impact on haru
another much more obvious event where haru’s character is forced to act ooc for the sake of the establishment of another character is with albert. yes, haru has grown a lot from the beginning of the series and has gotten a lot more open, expressive, and friendly, but that’s mostly just to the friends around him, but that’s not even to all of them (he still seems to find kisumi irritating and in TYM tries to leave at the sight of him lol) so him noticing, randomly approaching a stranger he doesn’t know a single thing about to help them order food and then even going far as to have lunch with him was the most blatantly ooc thing in the season. i think he may be polite enough to help him order his food but i don’t get why he even noticed albert in the first place. they should’ve just left him noticing albert to be at the practice race. like i said that scene was just there to emphasize albert’s skill with the chopstick thing but i think saying he was the world record holder and also being way ahead of haru in the race was already enough
besides haru’s character, another character i felt they did wrong was makoto. besides the plot of s1 being recycled, s3 makoto seemed to just repeat the development he went through in s2. by the end of s2, he already establishes that he wants to coach swimmers. and at the end of s3 he comes to that same realization but acts like it’s something completely new to him introduced by nao that he never thought of before?? the only difference was that he said in s2 he wanted to help kids realize how great swimming is, which was sweet and suited his personality, but in s3 he says he wants to do it for athletes on the world stage. tbh i like either way, and the latter one would help him be able to stand with rin and haru who in s2 he was afraid of being left behind by (hence why he swam the free against haru in s2) but saying that being an olympic trainer can also help him inspire kids and show them swimming is fun makes no sense. choose a path you want for the character already and make it consistent does he want to help athletes in the world stage or does he want to help kids fall in love with swimming? bc i doubt any kids pay attention to the coach or trainers in the olympics rather than the actual athletes so that reasoning like i said didn’t make sense.
and after haru lost what i think was the 200m (?) free at the All Japan Invitational, i found it weird that they had makoto there after to talk with haru and rin about the race? idk to me it just feels like it’s tradition for it to end up just being rin and haru talking when they’re struggling with swimming (in s1 was their fight in front of the tree that looked like the one by their elementary, in s2 it was the australia trip) his presence didn’t even feel necessary either, he just randomly interrupted the moment by saying his future plans after haru had that angst yell lol. it felt like just an appeal to mh shippers which is not a good enough reason at all
the last point i can remember at the moment is that the ending was so underwhelming. i don’t understand why they couldn’t have shown the ending to rin and harus 100m free race when the movie trailer already confirms that they’re going to the olympics. why cut to albert watching them on the tv?? all this build up to not even show the results of it? I think this ending really just confirmed that s3 was so unnecessary and just there to warm ppl up to the olympic movie but not actually give us anything good or plot moving
anyways sorry for this dump. besides all these criticisms, i want to say there were parts of it that i enjoyed, i just didn’t go into it bc this post is already so long, and me bagging on ikuya was not hate; i actually like him and the only time i teared up in s3 was in his race with natsuya lol. i’m afraid that at some parts i may have not expressed my thoughts exactly so please don’t be too harsh if you engage, but i’d love to hear other ppl’s analysis of s3 and the characters as well !!
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sevensins-stuff · 4 years ago
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The Magic in Mystery
Satan x GN!mc
(No warnings. It's just an impromptu bookstore date)
It was quiet. Save for the occasional sound of milk being steamed in the background. Rows and rows of fresh books were packed tightly between the shelves that slowly passed their peripherals as they strolled past. Today was the release of the second installment of The Magic in Mystery. It wasn't the most popular book, but they were glad to know that the author had just enough fans to be able to put out a second one.
They'd finally reached the end of the seemingly endless walk way where the store kept its mystery books and turned into the towering bookshelf. Their steps were even slower then the steps they took to get there. Eyes roamed up and down the spines of colorful books searching for the one title they had in mind.
One daring step after another, another, and then a final step as their eyes caught the silver curled letters on a midnight purple spine. They gasped softly as they reached for it and in the midst of their excitement, they failed to notice the hand that reached for the same book until their fingers grazed each other. They quickly pulled their hand back and apologized profusely to the person they touched.
Somewhere in the middle of their apologies, their eyes met with brilliant emerald ones that looked over them softly. Their words began to die at their lips as he smiled, shaking his head softly. His blonde locks shimmying in the opposite directions of his head.
"I should be the one to apologise. I didn't think we'd be reaching for the same book after all."
He tilted the book out of its place with a finger, that they noticed had a green pained nail, and pulled the rest of it out. He handed it to them with the cover in all its glory shown and they looked at it, frozen in their place for a moment before slowly raising their arms to take the book in their hands.
He turned to grab another copy of the book and they had expected him to just walk away after that, but they were surprised to see him stand there in front of them with a smile on his handsome features and a thoughtful look in his eyes. It felt like time stopped for them just to be able to look at each other. Time only ticks again when they notice the speed pick up on the motions of his lips, snapping them out of their trance.
"I'm sorry?"
"Let me buy you a coffee. I want to apologise for causing you to jump like that a while ago."
"Are...are you sure?"
"Of course. Let me."
"Oh. O-okay"
They nodded though they were terribly embarrassed at just how scared they were moments ago. He tilted his head slightly past the shelf before walking away and they took a moment before hopping on his trail. They walked past the rows of towering shelves a bit quicker than they did walking in into the lingering mixture of bitter and sweet coffee that scented the lobby of the store.
There were so many options to choose from, but their orders were simple. A sweet iced coffee for them and a hot black coffee for him. They sat across from each other at a table pushed against a window of the store. The warm glow of the sun highlighted the dust that floated around them, but it was easy enough to ignore. They sipped awkwardly from their respective drinks, avoiding each other's gazes as they waited for someone to say the first word. They finally cleared their throat after a prolonged silence to speak.
"Have you read the first book? The Magic in Mystery?"
He nodded, a smile beginning to bloom across his face again. Heat teased at the apples of their cheeks as they looked at him.
"It's not a bestseller, but it blends genres so seamlessly which is something that can't be said for many mystery books."
"Exactly!" They were a bit eager to respond. "The mixture of action, romance, comedy, and mystery fits together so well. I was so upset when I found out that a lot of people didn't even know the book existed."
He chuckled softly at their enthusiasm that he shared to an extent.
"If there is any silver lining to the book's underground nature, it's that there's no movie out there to ruin its word entirely."
It was their turn to laugh, though they tried to stifle it so they wouldn't distract anyone surrounding them. His smile brightened at their lively response and he brought his cup to his lips for another sip of coffee.
"I guess that is something to be thankful for." They sighed softly before continuing. "I was so excited when the second book was announced. I've counted down the months, days, hours, even the seconds until today. I guess you just really shocked me because I didn't think that there would be someone looking for the same thing I was."
"I'm glad that moment put us where we are now. I've wanted to talk about this book for ages, but it feels like there's only a handful of people that knows about the book's existence."
"I've felt the same. I've tried to look for groups of people online who've read the book, but they either aren't very active or I don't understand their language. It feels good to have someone to talk to."
"Well, if we want to talk about it more, we should probably start reading this then," he noted as he picked up the book.
They read through the first chapter of the book at a similarly fast pace, sharing similar reactions to the same lines that picked up where the first book ended. It was gripping with suspense just after the first five pages and they were invested. They were only mildly upset having to stop just after the first chapter, but were even more excited to talk about it together.
"She started off with Janice and Henry's wedding! They finally got married!"
"Only for it to be cut off by a murder when the lights cut off. Do you think it was actually one of the wedding guest?"
"It would be right to think so, but knowing the author, it probably wasn't."
"I see. I absolutely adore her way with words. It's like she sucks you into their world and puts you right in the middle of it all. She gives you all the pieces of the puzzle but makes it so that you start putting the pieces together at the same time as the characters in the story."
"That's exactly how it is. I still think her books should be bestsellers, but understanding her work feels more fulfilling."
They talked for hours tying the first book to the second based on its first chapter, pinpointing events in the first book, and singing their praises to the author. The warm glow of the sun turned to a rich honeyed glow when they stopped talking about the book and started talking about themselves. If anyone had walked past they would've been right to assume that they were really dating.
The sun slowly hid itself away leaving a swirling pink and blue sky with purple clouds in its wake. It was getting late for them and he was the first to point it out.
"It seems that I've stayed here much longer than I thought. I should get going. Are you going to stay here a bit longer?"
"No," They shook their head. "I have to head home too. I have some things to take care of."
They rose from the table with the books in one hand and their long empty cups in the other. They tossed them away as they walked towards the register. The whole day seemed to fly past without a second thought, but no one seemed to mind. They set their books down on the counter while still keeping their books separate.
"Will that be all for you guys today?"
"Yes, thank you. We'll pay-"
"-Together," he interjected.
They flashed him a look as if to ask 'are you sure?' and he nodded, stacking the books together and passing them to the cashier.
"Your total comes out to $42.38."
First coffee and now the one and only book they were excited for. They wondered if there was actually someone out there looking out for them. Maybe it was him. They were pulled out of their thoughts by the sound of a plastic bag being shaken right in front of them. They blinked a few times as the focused on the white bag in front of them and they grabbed onto it, the weight of the book dragging the bag down slightly.
"Why? I could've brought the book myself."
His eyes studied their features for what felt like hours before he finally spoke.
"I wanted to thank you. For plenty of things really, but mostly for spending time with me. I enjoyed you immensely."
Their face flaired up at his words and they chuckled softly.
"I-it was nothing. I should be the one thanking you anyways. I had fun today."
"I guess I should be heading off now. Enjoy the rest of your night."
"Thank you. You too."
They went their sperate ways from the entrance of the bookstore. They had only made it a few steps before they realized they had never gotten his name. They turned to get his attention only to find that he had already disappeared. The only thing they had to remember him by was the book in their hands and the memories they shared.
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whereflowersbloom · 4 years ago
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Changes.
It’s a rare Saturday afternoon off. Conner is sprawled across the sofa, his head resting on a fluffy cushion. Raven sitting next to him, wearing comfortable summer clothes, leaving her legs bare. Conner was watching the movie with half-closed eyes. He’s unusually exhausted. But everyone was out. They’ve been working around the clock, non-stop for weeks, busy with missions. It’s the first time they’ve managed to arrange their time off in a long time. He wanted to make the most of it, but Raven didn’t want to go out today. It’s a lazy day, spending it in the Tower’s living room. Watching old movies, Raven recommended and insisted he must watch them. Classics. ‘Gone with the wind, The wizard of Oz, Casablanca’ among other tittle.
Conner tried to focus on the screen. They were halfway Casablanca, but got distracted by Raven’s hair. It looked almost magical in this light. Her dark hair, shinning like the night sky. Her hair was slowly turning a dark purple shade, almost indigo with the sunlight hitting it. Conner was quite intrigued about her hairstyle as well. He’d seen braids before, but never this intricately. She did notice Raven had changed the way she styled her hair lately. He secretly wanted to ask what made her change it. He liked it nonetheless. Whether she let it cascade down her shoulders or in a ponytail, or this elaborated braid. She looked dazzlingly beautiful to him, all the time.
Raven felt Conner’s eyes on her. She was intrigued why he was so absorbed watching her? Was there something on her face? She’d only eaten popcorn like him, and he was clean, well groomed like always. Impeccable she’d rather admit. She couldn’t ignore his long, unblinking stare any longer. She was about to ask him if everything was okay when he unexpectedly broke the silence.
“How do you braid hair?”He asked all of a sudden, rubbing his neck, when he saw Raven’s baffled look. Tilting her head to one side, blinking several times, processing why he was so interested in her hair now.
That was not what she had expected. She consciously touched her French braid. It wasn’t her usual hairstyle, she felt heat burn her cheeks. Donna had been watching recently videos about hairstyles. She became seemingly so engrossed in trying new hairstyles, specially braids on her dark hair now that it was long enough, and growing even longer, down to her lower shoulders. The Amazonian had mentioned it would suit her. Donna being the persuasive person she was, Raven didn’t have the heart to say no. Also, she decided, perhaps it was time to try a different look. Instead of braiding just the three strands, you take hair with it as you go down. After hours and hours of practicing, Donna finally mastered it. It was different. The first time she felt strange. But she found some benefits, her hair didn’t get in the way while training or cooking. It was rather practical. Kori found it looking regal. Did Conner not like it? It was the first time he mentioned it.
She didn’t know how to explain. She had only done it a couple of times. “Uhmm, well.” she shrugged the twine from her hair and untangled the braid, slowly, with her small hands. Her midnight tresses were quite long, so it took some time. Maybe because she was so self-conscious of Conner’s curious, steady gaze. She felt her heart hammering in her chest, her breath coming in short. She was overly, awkwardly aware of his gaze on her face as the strands started to adorn her face. She gulped and wished he stopped staring, counting the heartbeats in her mind. But in the back of her mind she’d rather have him look at her with those beautiful baby blue eyes, sparkling with interest and mischief, as always, asking her to read him books, or having a long conversation about her hobbies, even video games he occasionally played with Beast Boy. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, but thanks Azar it healed fairly quickly.
Conner felt heat creep in his neck, and not because of the sun, or the hot summer weather of Jump City. His stomach always did somersaults like the kids in the park, or Nightwing did while training, whenever he looked at her, his feelings flowing so freely like a river, his feelings for her deepened and strengthened with every passing day. He couldn’t decipher it, but it made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t feel for a friend. He knew he shouldn’t, wasn’t supposed to but he genuinely, wholeheartedly liked Raven. She appeared to be troubled by his question.
He cleared his throat, attempting to get back her attention. He pronounced her name quietly. “Raven.”
“Oh. Sorry.” She jumped slightly, snapping out of her trance. “You take three pieces of hair, like this” she demonstrated it and started showing Conner, imitating the way Donna did it, if she remembered correctly. “And as you are braiding, you add hair from both sides and continue. Follow my fingers.” Her breath choked as, abruptly took a strand of her hair and twirled in thoughtfully around his finger, observing it meticulously, seemingly not aware of his actions or his effect on her.
He looked up, smiled warmly at her, the way he did, resembling a child with new toy and nodded. He hesitated for a moment but muttered cheerfully. “Do you mind if I try it?”
Her violet-blue eyes widened. Conner wanted to braid her hair. The idea of his hands close to her face? Her stomach was in knots. No. That was an absolutely terrible idea or not? Calm down Raven. Nothing to worry about. It’s just hair. She has no idea why he’s so fascinated by it, but they are friends. If Donna can do it. What’s the difference? He wouldn’t just tangle up her hair as a prank. He wasn’t Garfield. No. Conner was innocent, honorable, respectful. He was different, like her she imagined sometimes. “Sure, go ahead.” His hand brushed her fingers lightly, with such softness. It sent a tingle of goosebumps up her arm. Their eyes locked, and the powerful connection, felt like being struck by lighting. Blue eyes meeting violet. Both were blushing furiously.
Raven shifted her body, so she was sitting cross legged in front of him, on the sofa, with her back towards him.
Conner took the log hair in for a moment. Admiring how soft and beautiful it was. He breathed in the essence, lavender, jasmine and peppermint. He has dreamt about how it would be to play with it, run it though his fingers. Her head in his lap, she was humming a song he never heard before. He’d absentmindedly started imitating her as well, while twirling the hair around his long fingers. He casually asked her about it. She told him it was an old song her mother used to sing to her. It brought some fond and happy memories.
“Don’t mess it up.” She teased him, giggling softly, but warning him at the same time. A boyish smile spread across his face. She confide him her precious memories. He felt special for a moment. Like he was needed, trusted with such things, he could guess not many knew about. His hands brush her hair gently, over her shoulders, unintentionally touching her delicate pale neck.
“No promises.” he said in a playful tone. He continued to play with her hair, trying to copy her fingers, when she had shown him. Braiding hair sure wasn’t easy.
His fingers caressed her cheekbone as he took a strand of hair. Raven held her breathe. What was he doing? Did he cast a spell on her or something, turning her completely speechless? She was the sorcerer here. Not him. She felt Conner edge closer.
“I’m almost done...I think.” he whispered anxiously. He didn’t need to, but it felt appropriate. The moment felt too intimate, for some reason. Something was changing between them. Perhaps because this was unusual in a way he couldn’t point. Sure, they were close friends, had normal interactions, but this felt intimate, private, almost romantic. They never touched or got close this way before. It was a new experience. Conner furrowed his eyebrows involuntarily, he started to hate that word. ‘Friends’. It didn’t cover entirely their bond. He didn’t want to be only Raven’s friend. Friends certainly, positively didn’t left you breathless and wanting more. He’d rather not talk to any of his other friends and simply kiss Raven senselessly. As he dreamed almost every night for months now.
He seriously had to stop daydreaming about her. But he found himself incapable of stopping. He did not want to, if he was honest.
Raven stretched her neck, yawning momentarily, then she looked over her shoulder. He’d suddenly stopped braiding, and instead of saying anything, she felt him staring at her again. Those blue eyes studying her again. She felt strange, the way he looked at her. That’s not the way friends do it. Not the others. Except a certain vigilante. But that was too complicated.
But when she gazed at him cautiously, she was surprised by their proximity, his lips merely inches from hers. And that look on his face. Conner flustered? No no no. She hastily created more space. And realized maybe he’d feel offended or hurt.
“Sorry, you surprised me.” she mumbled, avoiding his eyes, hand grabbing the end of the braid and tying it quickly. It was adequate, he did a fairly good job.
“No apologies.” he said blushing, shaking his head. He didn’t want her to worry or upset her. “I was distracted.” He confessed, ruffling his hair.
Raven raised her brow, wondering what caught his attention, placing her chin on her palm. “What’s on your mind?”
Conner paused for a moment, considering telling her the truth. He decided it wasn’t the right time. Sighing deeply, he didn’t have the courage yet to declare his feelings for her. There was no way he could reply saying I was daydreaming about kissing you, the way you deserve to be kissed. His heartbeat increased around 40 beats more than average. He had an idea. He smiled mischievously.
“It’s a secret.” He winked teasingly, praying his cheeks didn’t heat up and thanking she didn’t possess superhearing like him.
Raven’s eyes widened. She snorted softly, and she rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous, Superboy.” The dark haired girl threw some popcorn at him and he chuckled loudly, it was so natural. “I’ll find out eventually.” She said, faking indignation and folding her arms as she closed her eyes.
“You will.” He said optimistically, reassuring her, a confident smile on his face. A promise for the future. ‘One day Raven’ I’ll tell you all those things I’ve bottled up. Those things I want to have with you. He told himself in his mind.
Anither konrae oneshot 🙈🙈🙈🙈💙💙💙💜💜💜
@grassfour
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anxiouslyfred · 4 years ago
Text
Writing Therapy
Summary: Remus got into poetry after searching his soulmates name online. He got into a writing therapy group by accident but the therapist leading it quickly got him registered as part of it. Virgil at least got properly referred to the group
Authors note: I have no clue what group therapy is like, and especially not writing therapy since I’ve never heard of it. This is how I hope it might be done only
/\/\
Remus didn't give a lot of thoughts to soulmates or the name on his wrist. There were far more interesting things to do, like mixing dangerous chemicals and testing out gas masks from yesteryear when he knew how to recreate them.
One thing he did give however was poetry. The day he'd received the name, he'd looked it up online, more out of curiosity for name origins than anything else and learnt about the Roman poet, Virgil. So he learnt poetry in between learning all the slow to kill injuries humanity could inflict or accidentally receive.
His favourite poetry group though was the group therapy with words sessions he'd stumbled into one week and decided to stick around in. Remus had basically heard someone describing dying with wonderfully rhyming and descriptive words and decided they  couldn't make him leave. Surprisingly they hadn't even tried to, as soon as he mentioned wanting to travel by sitting on the windscreen of a car he'd basically had the leader signing him up and calling his doctors to inform them of the treatment. When Roman had signed them up for a Doctor's surgery was beyond his memory but it was useful that time at least.
/Virgil gets referred again\
Honestly, Virgil cared less about the name on his wrist and more about the millionth type of therapy Dr Picani was suggesting might help him work past his fears over what could happen each day. That didn't stop his dismissal of looking for Remus from also being a concern in their talk therapy sessions occasionally, but at least Virgil had heard all the comparisons to separated soulmates that cartoons had to offer now. He'd even enjoyed some of the shows.
He'd enjoyed art therapy, and had a breakdown during a therapy that involved acting, specifically play acting a few of the scenes that he was scared of happening in order to find ways he could deal with them. Writing just seemed like it would follow one of those, either get him writing things far too personal and deep for him to ever share, especially in a group therapy session, or just be painting without the chance to use purples and blacks currently.
The real reluctance was surrounding meeting a group of new people all over again and Virgil dreaded it enough he waited, stayed outside of the hall the meeting was in. He knew being deliberately late to his first session was probably a bad idea, but facing the awkward introductions, people trying to make small talk or whatever before it began was worse.
Eventually though he did have to go in, after watching someone in a leather jacket and sunglasses stand for a while talking before someone in a green monstrosity of an outfit leapt into the circle, notebook in hand. There really were no other words to describe the outfit. It was too torn to shreds to be called clothes, while it definitely looked like a one piece, the ruffles and belt could easily disguise it being two. The fabric covering their legs seemed to at one be fully joined like a skirt but also separate to individual legs in their leap.
While they took the attention Virgil had the best chance of sneaking into the circle unnoticed, listening to the reciting that was happening absently while finding an empty seat.
And so I fall, encaptured, enraptured,
Consumed by the darkness,
Tangled in the forces arms,
And suffocated by its weight.
All the time the person had been reading their work they'd been moving, lurching out or pulling their limbs close based on the lines, but once finished they stood straight, bouncing in place as he grinned around at the group. “I'm Remus and this week I've been completely entranced by the black holes and would kind of love to fall into one and quiet my brain for a bit.”
“Sure thing, Gurl, but you're meant to give me a chance to invite people to share anything they've written before leaping up. Sit down already and please, do you have an outfit that isn't going to leave frayed strings all over the floor?” The leather jacket guy must have been the group's leader then, as once Remus was seated again he looked around at everyone, thankfully with his glasses pushed up to his hair now.
“Remyyyy, you know I live for the drama, and it's better for people to know we can write and discuss dark stuff without you jumping down our throats.” Remus whined, but shimmied in their seat, completely negating any complaint to their words. Virgil really wished he could at least figure out the gender of this person, beyond them sharing the name of his soulmate at least.
Remy shook the coffee cup in his hand at them, “Behave for a bit, while I finish off the introduction. Okay, everyone, I'm seeing some new faces here, Babes, so a few things beyond ignoring our drama duke. He turned up one day and just from the issues he spontaneously spoke about we let him stay.” Leaning forward in his seat seemed to be Remy's way to get their attention at least.
“Now we are a writing therapy group, and yes, if you want to copy Remus, well you can have a go, but really we are here to give you methods to help yourself. Some of that will be expressing your feelings in writing, be it poetry, stories or just journaling your day, but the larger part of our sessions is getting you to follow a few steps to reduce your worries. Nothing has to be shared, and honestly if you don't think a method is for you, that's fine. Don't write it down, just write what you like.” Remy nodded, pulling some loose paper and pens out from his bag. “Does anyone else what to share something they've written, or I can lead us through re-framing our thoughts?”
Virgil kind of absently followed the activity, just picking out one thing he'd felt worried about that week. A large part of him wanted to actually reread the name on his wrist again, check that it actually did say Remus despite having long since memorised it.
His thoughts remained, scribbling words down on the page as people started asking questions, or sharing a few things they'd written instead of the exercise. Most of the people who did that specifically mentioned having been around when Remy had shown them the method before, so Virgil guessed there were a few key methods the group focused on to help with negative thoughts.
Currently however he was writing down everything that could go horribly wrong if he mentioned his soulmate being called Remus to the guy in green. Meeting his soulmate was the only positive he could find, but actually speaking that possibility would only give him hopes to be crushed as soon as the laughter came, or worse some dismissing announcement that Remus already knew his soulmate.
Virgil was so caught up in writing the thoughts down he didn't register when Remy tried bringing the group to a close and most of the circle started packing their things away.
The chair next to him deliberately being scrapped closer with a horrible screech did get him to flinch and look up though, finding the very man he was trying to remember likely wasn't his soulmate sat uncomfortably close. “Hi, you crept in while I was reading. I'm Remus and your eyeshadow is cool. Is it eyeshadow or liquid eyeliner? That would be cool for all the designs you could draw.”
“Virgil, and just eyeshadow. Why would I want more attention on – Hey!” He cut off the question when his right arm was grabbed as soon as Remus heard his name. “Don't just grab me dude! I don't know you!” He was yelling, but wasn't doing anything to pull his arm back as the sleeve was pulled up. Virgil just needed an one of the strangers from the group to have an eye on them if this was something bad.
“But you are my soulmate, whether we've just met or not. Besides, being seen out with me, you're guaranteed not to get the attention and can play around with your make-up however you like.” Remus beamed, waving Virgil's arm in the air, while twisting his head to try and read what Virgil had been writing.
Shuffling his notebook closed and into his bag with one arm was awkward but better than letting Remus read all his fears and doubts about the chances of this happening. “Not arguing with either of those things, but you definitely aren't just reading my stuff until I know you more. Let's have coffee or something instead.” He hissed out.
“Can't have caffeine. I go even more loopy and tried to break into the bank for giggles last time some barrista messed up my order.” Remus perked up proudly at his recounting, finally releasing Virgil's arm.
Virgil just flapped his hands for a moment. “Fine then, hot chocolate, park cafe, tomorrow 3pm. Now I'm going to go and try not to panic about you getting arrested over doing something stupid.” He decided, jumping up and hurriedly getting his coat back on.
“I'll be there on the dot, and if there isn't a dot for me to stand on, don't worry I'll bring paints and paper to make one!” Remus called after him, cackling in glee which made Virgil doubt he could have made as terrible an impression as he believed.
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