#is there any meaning to the promise given to a little sister that died a century ago?

[yashahimewasamistake]

Everyone writes Wild as this abused child, raised by the government and without any family contact. Meanwhile, I'm here thinking he had a doting older sister, a proud big brother, a cute little sister and grandma that always gave him a lot of food because he was "too thin", and he visited them constantly.

Why give him a loving family?

For the angst.

[slasherscream]

Hi, sorry to bug but I have to yap to someone about this, and I love your ideas. Do you think Nathan Prescott would take his partner’s last name if he ever got married? Would any of the Crazy Ass Boy Gang?

❥ who would take your last name ❥

Nathan Prescott - He would take your last name so quickly it would make your head spin. You’re the first person who’s given meaning to the world family. His sister tried, but when you’re on a sinking ship, there’s only so much you can do. Try too desperately to save the person drowning next to you and you risk going under yourself. So Nathan drowned alone. Until you, that is. Marrying you, becoming part of your family, is absolution for him. He’s not Sean Prescott’s son. He’s Nathan Y/L/N, your husband. 

Jason Dean/JD - It might seem a little strange for JD to be so willing to change his name. His nickname is just his first and last name together, afterall. This was his mother’s last name. But it’s also his father’s. One night he’ll gently wake you , and in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard him use he'll ask you if you’d like him to take your last name. There are so many questions he’s asking, in that one sentence: Do you want me to be yours, unequivocally? Will you bear the weight of that ownership? Am I abandoning my Mother, if I leave her all alone as a Dean, with only him as her company? Will you ask me to take it? Please ask. Please take the weight of the asking away. I can’t abandon her. But I can’t stay, either. Put your arms around him and tell him he’ll make one hell of a Y/L/N.

❥ who would want you to take theirs ❥

Sebastian Valmont - He has genuinely doodled your names together in his journals like a middle schooler. Without a hint of irony: Mr. and Mx. Valmont. Y/N Valmont. Since the moment he fell in love he was planning to marry you and give you his last name. The Valmont name carries weight. It’s legacy. It’s old money. He throws his name around and people fall over themselves to get things done for him. He wants you to throw around his name too. He wants you to embrace every luxury he can give you. One of those luxuries is the power of his family name. Use it.

Billy Loomis - His parent’s marriage failed miserably. He doesn’t even know if his Mother kept the name Loomis. At this point, what does it matter? He fights tooth and nail not to live in the past when he has a future with you to look forward to. So he wants to look forward. He wants to do better than his parents did. He wants to wake up in ten years, twenty, thirty and reach for your hand and know you two succeeded. His family name isn’t doomed to failed promises, runaway spouses, and unfaithfulness. You guys are a better Loomis pair than his parents ever were.

David Mccall - Don’t piss him off. If you even try to hint at wanting to keep your original family name, it will be one of the few times you see David’s mask slip. “What? My name not good enough for you, sweetheart? Marriage is for starting over. It’s for building our lives together, not for hanging onto the past. Thought you loved me.” Every dirty trick he has in his arsenal will be used. Whatever it takes until you give in. Sex. Guilt. Moping. Anger. Don’t push back too hard, or go back and forth on the issue for too long. On your wedding day you’re gonna be Y/N Mccall, come hell or high water. There’s no need for anything drastic to take place just for that to happen, right baby? 

Josh Washington - Josh could never be anything but a Washington. It’s the name he shared with his sisters. It’s the only thing he still shares with his sisters. He used to be able to see them in his face, at least. But now… he’s so different, even that bit of the twins has died. It isn’t right that there are so few Washington's left. Most days Josh isn’t even sure if he’s a Washington anymore. If he’s still Human anymore. But you are. You’re gentle, kind, and so painfully human. Just like the twins were. He might have failed them, hell, he probably failed himself. But he won’t fail you. He has a second chance at a family, and this time you’ll always be safe. 

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Would be so offended if this was even up for debate. Why wouldn’t you be taking his name? Why is it even a discussion? Why does he even have to ask? Will probably say something incredibly mean and unnecessary when you first talk about it. There’s a pit of insecurity in him that no amount of love you can give him will fill. It’s shaped like the love he should have gotten from his father. From his siblings. But the first love he’s ever felt has been yours. But that’s not true for you. You’ve loved people before him. Other people have loved you before he was able to. He needs you to be his. Just his. You’re the only thing in the world that matters that belongs only to him. But there are little pieces of you that will never be just his and it makes him sick. This can fix all that, though! He knows that the security of introducing you as his spouse will be a balm on his soul. He wants tabloids, newspapers, TV, and the radio to all be parroting the words: Y/N Hargreeves. He hopes- no, he knows it will make that hole inside him ache a little less. 

❥ who wants to hyphenate ❥

Jordan Li - Jordan doesn’t want you to give up your identity, who you are, just because you’re marrying them. They also don’t want to change their name, really. Something about not being a Li, despite everything, makes their stomach turn. But marriage is still about coming together. Making two lives so harmonious, so copacetic, that sometimes, if you’re lucky, it becomes one life, shared. Jordan didn’t propose for a long time, afraid of it all going wrong. Of ruining what you have. You helped them believe you two were strong enough to change and grow together. They want your names to reflect that. So, you hyphenate, and you blend, and grow, together. 

Stu Macher - Assumed you would take his last name, but when you pushed back, not sure if you wanted to shirk your family name entirely, Stu had the most relaxed reaction you’ve ever gotten from him about anything. “Okay, why don’t we both change 'em’? We’ll hyphenate! Like Brad Pitt and Angelina, or whatever.” You were expecting a tantrum. Not the easy acceptance that he actually meant for once. The fact is you’re wearing his ring on your finger, and you’re gonna stand in front of all your friends and family and say how much you love him. He’s already won. Why sweat the small stuff? 

Kevin Khatchadourian - Was quite angry when you began to hint at not wanting to change your name. It was the icy, calculated anger that made him dangerous, too. But if you’re marrying him you know how to communicate with him. Reason with him. You don’t want to take his last name because you don’t want to emulate his family. You want to make something of your own with him. You’re not sure how well the words worked until he sets the paperwork down in front of you. Kevin Y/L/N-Khatchadourian. In those small lines of ink, you’ll realize how deep the love Kevin is capable of runs for you. If you squint your eyes those words start to look like: I want us to be different from my parents. He watches you sign the paperwork to change your name, and Kevin has never been more content to give in to one of your demands. Just this once, of course.

A/N: i LOVE a character study question that’s still x reader. you are my favorite person in the world for this one. if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 7

Summary: As the party dies down the avengers spend some time bonding and peter joins them for the team bonding.

TW: Alcohol (that’s it I think)

Words: 2196

A/n I finally found time to write again and so I present to you this band new chapter \(>u<)/. Enjoy. Also, I know I said I would post it as one long chapter but … ig I lied? We are getting to the secret reveal soon. Only about one or two more chapters until we find out what the Parker’s are hiding. I’m so mad cuz I wrote the next chapter, but it didn’t save so I have to rewrite it which is why I’m just posting what I have here and why it’s taken so long sorry guys.

After you were led around and introduced to some more people Wanda and Nat led you back to the small area from before with a couple couches. By now the party had begun to die down with most of the guests, or who peter referred to as Stark Industries NPC’s, leaving for the night.

As you settled on a couch with the others it was now just the team, most of which you had been introduced to by now. Some introductions had been rather short but yo were working with these people so you would defiantly have time to get to know them better. Some of them you would be even living with.

The night had been a success for the most part. Earlier Thor had arrived along with his promise of asgaurdian liquor. After consulting with JARVIS it was confirmed that your metabolism was a match to Steve’s meaning you could stomach the god’s alcohol without getting poisoned.

This had of course led to you getting properly drunk or at least on the way to it, for the first time since the bite. Unfortunately, Nat had caught onto your plan rather easily and cut you off much to your displeasure.

Now with the team spread out across the couches, most with a drink in had or some assortment of fruity cocktail the banter had picked up as the music had died down and the guests all left.

“So, spider-kid whats your story?” Bucky asked and you adjusted your position on the couch suddenly feeling a little nervous with all eyes now on you. You felt a hand squeeze yours as you looked over, seeing wanda giving you an encouraging nod from where she held your hand beside you on the couch.

“Not much different to Peter.” You said.

“But somewhat different, right?” Sam said.

“Well … yeah.” You shrugged. “Same old spider bite, different powers, different life choices.” You said with a vague noncommittal shrug.

“So, where you been all this time?” Steve asked in a kind way.

“Queens.” You shrugged. “Small apartment, big rent, crap job until I started my own business, then I was planning on moving but you guys decided to level my apartment block to save people.” You shrugged.

“Sorry about that.” Steve said.

“I’m sure you’ll make it up to me.” You grinned sipping the soft drink Nat had given you instead of alcohol.

“Hey, I let you live here, didn’t I?” Tony said with a grin.

“But you did kind of destroy all her stuff Mr stark.” Peter said from where he had snuck in and sat down unnoticed.

“Hey, you're not supposed to be at these.” Tony said. “And I bought her new stuff.”

“Its just the team Mr Stark nobody else is here. Can I stay please?” Peter begged looking at you to back him up and pouting when you threw your hands up.

“I don’t know May said no alcohol.” He begun and suddenly May piped up making stark jump.

“Its fine Tony, just don’t give him any and keep an eye on him.” She said from where she was sat with pepper.

“Jesus woman. I forgot you were here. Don’t scare me, I have a heart condition you know.” Tony said as somewhere in the background sam continued laughing at him.

“Pepper said I could stay the night, and we could have a girl's day tomorrow.” May said grinning.

“Sounds like some shenanigans I want nothing to do with. I assume it will be at my expense.” Tony said sounding amused.

“Of course.” Pepper said.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” May added.

“I’ll drink to that.” Nat said and raised her glass.

As everyone took a swig of their respective drinks you realised why peter liked it so much here. It was a family. A real family. Sure, May did her best and you would always have a special bond only blood could give but this was the goofy family you never had.

“Wait so I’m confused, is she an avenger or not?” Clint asked seemingly asking the question on everyone’s mind.

“Can I answer that one Mr Stark.” Peter piped up.

“Sure kid.” Tony said.

“Welcome to the team Y/n/n.” Peter said with a big grin.

“Really?” You asked feeling this was all very offical.

“Damn right kid. We’d be stupid to not add another spider to the team.” Steve said with a smile.

“Plus, I already made you a suit. Ai and all.” Tony said.

“Thanks, tony.” You said with a big smile plastered across your cheeks.

“I have just one question…” Sam said with a shit-eating grin.

“What is it Mr Falcon?” Peter asked missing the look on Sam’s face.

“Who’s stronger?” Sam finished looking curious. “We already know spider boy is stronger than capsicle. But what about the other spider?” A few nods went around the room before Bucky spoke up.

“Arm wrestle.” He posed and you looked over at peter, flashing him a grin as he slouched in his seat.

“Ok.” You said and peter nodded.

Everyone crowded around the coffee table as peter and you sat down on the floor face each other.

“Standard rules. Ready?” Steve said as both you and peter positioned your arms on the table. Steve placed his hand over your clasped fists.

“Don’t break the table this time.” May said loud enough for people to hear and peters cheeks heated up while you snickered.

“3… 2 … 1… go!” Steve let go of your hands and straight away it begun leaning towards a win for you. Peters arm was shaking as he tried to fight back. With barely an inch between peters hand and the table the position flipped.

You were sure people had placed bets by now. Nat and Sam were cheering you on while Bucky had yet to forget the incident at the airport and placed his bet on peter.

You were on the defence now, with peter bringing your hand almost back up to the midway point. As it began to tilt in a bad direction for you with a burst of strength you slammed peters hand down on the table winning the match. Sam cheered and Nat smirked.

Standing up and brushing off invisible dusty from your lap Nat came to your side and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“My victor. Thanks for the easy twenty I just made.” She said and your cheeks were blazing as you retreated to your seat from earlier as everyone went back to their places.

“But can the spider's sister also lift the hammer?” Thor boomed as he patted your brother's shoulder while peter smirked. Everyone knew peter could wield the magical asgaurdian hammer.

You looked at Thor with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Is that a dare big man?” You asked with a grin curling up the edges of your lips.

“And if it is lady Parker?” Thor asked with a challenging tone.

“Well, if it is I never back down from a dare.” You said the look on your face never faltering.

“Then it is a date lady Parker.” Thor said removing his hand from Peter’s shoulder and clapping them together and rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“Ready to look like an idiot spider boy?” You asked looking at Peter who was starting to loose his confident look. He knew you had a heart of gold.

By now all eyes were on you, Peter and Thor.

“Alright pointbreak I put two hundred on the girl spider.” Tony said.

His words catching you off guard as you took a sip of your drink making it go down the wrong way as you choked and coughed. Making a few people laugh.

“Dollars?” You exclaimed once you got your breath back.

“No, I meant seashells.” Tony sassed rolling his eyes.

“I’ll take that.” Bucky said. “I say she can’t get it to budge.”

Soon there was a chorus of voices as everyone places their bets. Tony had, at some point, gotten Jarvis to start taking notes of who bet what and how much.

Once all the bets were done all eyes turned back to you and Thor.

“Alright lord of lightning.” Tony began, “where’s the magic screwdriver.”

“One second.” Thor boomed. Holding out his hand the sound of breaking glass came from across the compound before the hammer smashed through the wall and slotted perfectly into Thor’s open fist.

“Thor! I told you to stop doing that.” Tony said as he dispatched the iron legion to fix the hammer shaped holes in the walls.

“Apologies Stark it appears I have forgot again.” Thor said looking sheepish and slightly tipsy from the alcohol he brought from his home realm.

Before anyone else could complain about the new holes in the wall Thor places the hammer down on the table. Peter’s smirk began to waver at the look of confidence on your face. Yet internally you were nervous. Were you about to make yourself look like an idiot in front of everyone?

Taking a deep breath you attempted to steady your nerves. Thor brandished a hand in the direction of the hammer, inviting you to pick it up.

Steeling your nerves and steaming the quake in your hands you reached out and brushed your hand over the cool leather that the handle was bound in.

Taking a breath, you wrapped your fingers around the hilt and gently began to tug. The hammer moved as if it weighed nothing more than a few feathers. A collective noise halfway between a cheer and an audible groan came from the spectators as people either made or lost money on the events of the past few seconds.

You tossed the hammer lightly in the air as it spun a full three-sixty before you caught it again by the hilt.

“Lady Parker congratulations are in order.” Thor said looking giddy as he found another person who could wield the hammer. You had a wide grin on your face feeling pretty special for once.

“Why exactly?” You asked not entirely aware of the legend that surrounded your actions.

“Oooo she don’t know.” Sam said before Bucky lightly slapped him to get him to shut up. Sam glared at Bucky as he rubbed his arm, Bucky however seemed unaffected as he shrugged unapologetically at Sam who poked his tongue out at Bucky who pretended not to see.

“Well, lady Parker, they say those who wield the hammer are fit to rule Asgard.” Thor said and you looked excited for a second before groaning.

“What is it?” Wanda asked feeling the slight annoyance and hesitation rolling off your psyche.

“Ew…” you muttered shivering dramatically.

“What?” Nat said reiterating Wanda’s earlier statement.

“I don’t wanna be eternally ruling alongside my little brother. He’d probably need to be babysat the whole time.” You whined making everyone chuckle while peter looked offended.

“I don’t need babysitting.” Peter piped up.

“Kid I had to put an AI in your suit to babysit you after a building fell on you. She’s not wrong.” Tony said and Peter frowned.

“Hey, you gave me one too.” You protested.

“That’s to help you, it doesn’t have snitch programs in it.” Tony said smirking at Peter.

“Yeah, plus I use Jarvis to babysit Tony.” Pepper said smirking over the rim of her wineglass as she took another sip.

“What?!” Tony spluttered. “Hey Jarvis! Is this true?”

“No boss.” Jarvis said not missing a beat.

“I programmed him to say that.” Pepper said adding her two cents.

“It that true j?” Tony asked again.

“No boss.” Jarvis said

“Liar.” Tony grumbled.

May and pepper giggled as they clinked glasses, those two always seemed to be causing trouble. They had gotten quite close after Tony had reduced peppers hours for stark industries, claiming she worked too much and needed more time to “have a life” as he put it.

Naturally Pepper had taken to spending more time with May whilst Tony mentored Peter which had resulted in their wine and cheese club that met whenever Peter came over for his mentorship with Tony. Natasha was known to join on occasion as she knew everything that happened in the tower and would never say no to expensive and more importantly free wine. Wanda joined but it was few and far between that she frequented the club. Often, she was busy doing her own thing and lately she had been too busy spending time with you.

Your only concern was May telling Pepper about … things and then pepper telling Tony who would no doubt end up telling everyone in the tower. For now, you just wanted things to be normal, or as normal as they could be right now.

@tia-thesimp @lizzielillvr @justarandomreaderxoxo @sycamorelibrary754 @dorabledewdroop @redwolfqueen19 @sadlesbeansstuff @sgm616 @queen-of-chaotic-surprises

[mmani-e]

And in this week's post for DR: Demix, I'm finally sharing a concept I've had stewing in my head for a while now. A tale of not one, not two, but THREE JUNKOS! Yay!

In DR: Demix, there are 3 Junkos, the reason why is that I wanted Ibuki to have her own little Izuru form, and I thought the perfect equivalent of that was Junko. But to make it work, I needed to retroactively change a lot of stuff, and it was a really fun process ngl. And things got complicated regarding whether or not Junko in DR1 even is Junko at all, so I thought I'd add a little fun tidbit to that too.

"Junko Enoshima" in Demix 1 is Ryoko Otonashi, and the name is just a nickname people gave her in reference to the founder of HP. She takes up the name when Mukuro dies and she goes ballistic, like Mondo becoming Kiyondo.

Junko Enoshima in Demix 2 is the founder of Hope's Peak. An anarchist revolutionary who was granted the opportunity to make a better world and kinda flubbed it because she was a teenager.

The "Junko" Project in Demix 2 is also the hyperactive and insane Mastermind" of the killing game, created in a secret project by disgruntled student geniuses, Ibuki was transformed into a sick reflection of HP's founder and manipulated to becoming a pawn of Taka's... but not really.

Junko 1, the Titleholder - The first Junko is the one we know and love from THH, but that is not her real name. Ryoko Otonashi - the Ultimate Moral Compass - is her real name, and "Junko Enoshima" is just a nickname given to her by the hopeful youth that see her as the successor of the revolutionary woman who founded the school of Hope's Peak itself.

In reality, this "Junko" is no more than an opportunistic teenager, who thinks the name is... weird, at best. Reveling in the popularity and opportunities she's given as the so-called "reborn Junko" to cause chaos, even if beneficial chaos, to every school she is shipped off to after setting the last one ablaze with riots and protest in the name of her vision of a right and just world.

It's not until she experiences an unimaginable loss in the events of Demix 1 that she fully embraces that nickname in a bout of insanity. Swearing to burn the school down to its foundations with everyone inside, promising through running tears that she would accomplish it, any means necessary to avenge her sister.

Junko 2, the Founder - The second Junko is seen in an old busted portrait taken about thirteen years prior to the events of the despair, and she is the revolutionary founder of Hope's Peak. An anarchist leader, she was the first truly identified ultimate. A revolutionary, quite literally, Junko used her incredible talents to bring Imperial Japan to heel in the second world war, starting a prolonged anarchist revolt that would only be quelled when offered to change the system from within, the government granting amnesty, infinite travel funds, and most importantly an institution made in her name where she could support the youth: Hope's Peak Academy.

Ultimately, it was a mistake to take the government's deal, as her efforts to spread revolution worldwide were quashed and Japan restricted her freedoms until she was an old woman who had hardly the energy to walk around the school she founded herself.

Junko 3, the Mastermind - Not forgetting the dream of their founder, many students united clandestinely to discuss the future of their school despite neverending scandals and reports of corruption. With their founder missing, they created a project to rejuvenate the school under a perfect vessel: an ultimate revolutionary of their own. One with every talent under the sun needed to retake the school for themselves.

A council of sixteen students at the head of the project did their best to transform reserve course student "Ibuki Mioda" into their savior... only for her to end up a completely out-of-control maniac.

"Junko" is a hyperactive monster, her only limitation being what her genius mind can come up with. She is constantly in a state of bliss as whatever desire Ibuki once had in that mind of hers was accomplished, even if she doesn't remember who she was anymore. And she lives to revel in that fact, to enjoy her talents now and forevermore, as it is the only thing she has of her old self to cling onto that makes her feel whole.

[waterfire1848]

Whump Azutara incoming fic

Just a small piece of it but I wanted to share. Shout out to @emluckyowl for listening to my rants on this and helping me write

Katara had to use her waterbending to see in the dark dungeon. Apparently, whoever created this place was smart enough to remember that firebenders drew their power from the sun and, with enough time in it, could grow strong enough to escape. Down here, there were no windows and only lanterns were given to the guards so they didn’t trip over their own feet. All in all, it was completely pitch black and terrifying. The blue light of Katara’s waterbending illuminated Ursa’s face perfectly and reminded Katara that, no matter how she felt, she needed to press on.

I will never, ever, turn my back on people who need me!

Ursa had come to her a few days after the war, begging for help. She said her daughter was still being held by the Fire Lord. When Katara questioned her further, she finally admitted that her child was the Fire Lord’s daughter. Katara, beyond confused, confronted Zuko, who said that he did have a sister but she died years ago when she was only nine. Ursa begged Katara not to tell Zuko about her. She didn’t believe she was worthy of seeing her son again, but she knew her daughter was alive and after days of not hearing any news…..A member of Team Avatar had to be of some help, right?

“You’re sure she’s here?” Katara asked.

“That’s what the servant said and, in the palace, the servants know everything.”

“If you’re sure.” Katara whispered, “This place is creepy.”

“I know, but I need to find my baby.” Katara had to admire Ursa’s willingness to press forward. 

The woman clearly wasn’t a warrior by any means but she didn’t let that stop her from charging forward.

“We’ll find her.” Katara promised, “Do you know what cell she’s in?”

“No, but we should try calling for her. She’ll hear us.”

“What’s her name?"

"Azula." Ursa quickly told her, “Azula. Azula!”

“Azula.” Katara whispered, trying the name out, “Azula!” 

“Hey!” Someone called.

The two knew this wasn’t Azula because they were yelled at by a voice that clearly belonged to an old man, but they still turned towards him, “You looking for the little princess?”

“Azula! Where is she?!” Ursa demanded.

“Fire Lord’s special cell. You gotta go down one more level.”

“But there isn’t a level lower than this.” Katara argued.

“There is. I remember the kid’s screams coming from below me. Her cell must be right below mine.” Ursa felt her stomach do knots. No….no, Ozai wanted Azula. He wouldn’t hurt her….right?

“Let’s get back to the surface and find Toph. She can tell us where the secret-“

“No.” Ursa said, “My baby is down here.” Without another word, Ursa went to the wall and began to press her hand anywhere she could, “I didn’t live in that palace for years without picking up on how they hide their secret doors.” Finally, her hand landed on a patch of rock that pushed in and revealed a secret door.

“Impressive.” Katara said.

“Come on.”

They walked down the stairs—still being guided by their lantern and water—until they came to another dark hallway. However, this was different than the previous ones. This one just had one large cell—probably as big as seven or eight of the ones above them—and chains all over the walls with claw marks in the rocks.

“Azula!” Ursa called.

“Mmmm…” A voice came from the cell causing Ursa to run.

“Azula!” Ursa yelled, “Azula, are you in there?”

No response.

With Katara’s help, Ursa broke through the cell door and used her torch to try and see where her daughter was inside the cell. For a moment, there was nothing but darkness and Katara started to worry that maybe all they had heard was the wind.

Then the light illuminated a figure.

For a moment, Katara didn’t really know it was a person—or alive—until it moved. The creature placed a hand in front of them which looked more like a dragon’s paw than a human hand and Ursa’s torch gave enough light for them to see her face. It took everything in Katara not to scream.

The face looked human but also like that of a dragon. Instead of skin, the person had scales almost all over their face. Mostly they covered their cheeks and forehead. Two large horns poked out of her head that looked like they were weighing on her. Her human ears were gone, replaced with two pointed dragon-like ones on the side of her head. While one hand resembled a dragon’s paw almost perfectly the other was completely human. Katara also noticed two giant wings on her back that looked like that had been painfully forced onto her back—if the blood and red skin was anything to go by. Finally, a large tail curled around her. Despite the fact that they shouldn’t be there, the girl seemed to have perfect control of her dragon features.

It’s her eyes though that almost broke Katara. They looked so lifeless, so dead, they were completely black without any understanding that there were new people in her cell.

Ursa, for her part, managed to keep a hold on her torch but was now kneeling on the ground, “Azula?”

The girl—Azula—looked at her mom then Katara, “M….m-mom?” Azula whispered.

That was it. Ursa dropped her torch and launched forward to hug her daughter, “Azula! Oh, I’m so sorry, baby! I’m so sorry!”

“M-mom? ….M…m…”

“I’m here! I promise. I’m right here.” Ursa said. She could tell that Azula was struggling with her words so she chose instead to hug her child and prove that she was really there.

Katara was moved my the touching scene but she also was a healer first and noticed Azula was shaking. Without a word, she broke Azula’s chains and, when Ursa noticed this, she helped her daughter stand up—which is how Katara also noticed that her legs resembled dragon legs as well—allowing Azula to lean against her.

“…Hurts.” Azula managed to get out.

“Katara?” Ursa asked.

“Lean her against the wall.” Katara ordered.

Ursa got her outside of the cell then leaned her against the wall. Katara pressed her water against the most visible injuries, hoping to provide some aid from the pain. Relief flooded both of their hearts when Azula visibly relaxed and stopped shaking.

Ursa pushed her daughter’s hair out of her face. Azula’s eyes were still dark, still lifeless, but she did seem to understand that her mom was here. She learned into her mother’s touch as if it would disappear any second.

“It’s okay.” Ursa whispered, “You’re gonna be okay, baby.”

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 8

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Wasn't going to double post today but I'm feeling generous with it being Valentines Day. Sadly nothing super romantic about this one, but I promise some really good stuff is coming soon! I also have a few more one shots, but my requests are open if you have any more you guys want to send through! The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

The rotunda is empty as Imogen and I enter. Everyone in the dining hall eating. The feeling of being alone should unsettle me given recent circumstances, but after today I feel like that’s behind us.

Usually I would feel her eyes on me, but as she approached me in the hall I had no idea. Though I had been a little distracted at the lack of Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi at dinner.

She leads me over to the edge of the rotunda, and sits on the ledge, leaning up against one of the pillars. I copy her on the opposite side. For a few moments we sit in silence, looking out over the trees and mountains. It’s beautiful under the moonlight. In the distance I occasionally see dragons flying around. I wonder if one of them will be mine come threshing.

“I’d say I’m sorry for how I’ve acted towards you and what I did today. But I’m won’t. It’s just my weird way of processing this I guess.” She finally says, still looking out over the trees. “But, I can’t assure you it won’t happen again.”

I slowly nod my head. “Thanks, I guess.”

She looks over at me as if confused by my response.

“Not going to lie I was expecting a different response out of you regarding this. Also kind of surprised Garrick isn’t attached to your hip after what I did.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips. “Yeah well I kinda ran off after he told me he had feelings for me and I haven’t seen him since.”

She narrows her eyes at me and the look she gives me is like she thinks I’m crazy. Which honestly, I definitely am.

“You ran off?” She emphasises each words.

“Yeah.” I lean my head back on the pillar and sigh. I was such an idiot. “I ran off. Like an idiot. And now he’s nowhere to be seen.”

She shakes her head and laughs at me. “Well if it’s any help, I don’t think you haven’t seen him because of what happened. With Bodhi and Xaden also both gone, and from what I could see their dragons to, I think something’s come up.”

I nod. She’s right. In the last few weeks it had become almost normal for the boys to disappear some nights without much warning. But it still felt like it had to do with me. Maybe they went out to help Garrick clear his head. But if that was the case I’m sure either Xaden or Bodhi would have come to see how I was.

“I’m sure Garrick has told you are history and why I’ve been the way I’ve been?” She finally says after a few minutes of me swimming in my own thoughts.

“Yeah, only took me weeks of asking and then snapping at him in the healers quadrant before.” I tell her, earning a laugh out of her.

“I knew I’d like you. Even if I hate how much you have Garrick wrapped around your finger, I can see why.” She says with probably one of the first genuine smiles I’ve seen on her since I’ve been here. “And honestly I did this to myself. He always said he couldn’t give me more than something casual. That his heart lay elsewhere. He never said who, just that they were part of the rebellion casualties. And then you showed up.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any issues. Though was inevitable with everyone thinking I was dead for the last few years. Though I didn’t know Melgren’s plan till the night before conscription day.” I look away from her back out over the valley below us.

I catch the sad look that passes over her face as she studies me. “Don’t be sorry. You being back, as much as its annoyed me in one aspect, has been good the the guys. But can you promise me one thing?” She says as she stands.

I look over at her and nod.

”Don’t fuck it up. He deserves to be happy. And you definitely make him the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

And with that, she turns and leaves me alone in the Rotunda with my thoughts.

Imogen’s words hang over my head. Don’t fuck it up. Easier said than done. Part of me is over joyed that Garrick shares the same feelings. Though looking back I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner. I just put it down to us being best friends. Yes he wasn’t like that with Xaden, but I was a girl. Of course our friendship would naturally be a little different.

But part of me is also terrified. What if it goes badly? What if it puts a divide in the dynamic of our group. I couldn’t live with myself if I came between Xaden and Garrick. As much as Xaden is extremely loyal to Garrick, Xaden would pick me over him without a question. It would destroy him. But he would do it. And that’s not something I’d want him to do.

So I do the stupid thing and avoid them. Which sadly is quite easy with how little they are around. They’re in our daily battle brief class, wedged up in the back corner. I know cause I feel their eyes on me despite not turning around to see if they are there. But when it comes to challenges, their appearance is few and far between. And if they are there I do my best to blend into the crowd. As best as I can with my hair colour. Though I haven’t dyed it since arriving, and at nearly 2 months in my natural dark hair has started to shown through. Rhiannon and Violet keep telling me to let it grow out as it looks good with the dark red.

But outside of classes, I rarely see them. I get glimpses of them, but most nights they aren’t at dinner. Imogen makes comments about them being sent out for drills and such. Must be part of being a third year. Though I do notice they are gone more often than the other third years.

A few times Garrick tries to catch me after battle brief or find me at challenges, but somehow I manage to get away. I’m not quite ready to have the conversation he wants to have. But I can’t avoid it forever. A few times I nearly cave when I see the pained look in his hazel eyes. Pain I was causing. Pain I’d seen in Xaden and Bodhi’s eyes as well.

Soon our gym time turns into Gauntlet training with presentation day around the corner. So far our squad has done pretty well. Only one casualty so far. One I had to watch Violet almost be apart of. She hid it but I knew how much it killed her on the inside. She was yet to fully complete the gauntlet and today was our last day of training before presentation day tomorrow.

As we walk up the stairs to the gauntlet my heart drops. Not only is Xaden standing off to the side, Garrick is with him. It wasn’t uncommon for leadership to watch their squads do training on the gauntlet, so far neither had turned up for ours. Of course they show up on the last day.

Rhiannon who is next to me must notices something is off and follows my eyes to where Xaden and Garrick are.

“Why do you look so scared to see Xaden and Garrick?” She asks.

I hadn’t quite built the relationship with her that Violet had, but it was getting there. But I hadn’t told her about my interaction with Garrick after the challenge with Imogen.

“Remember how he took me to the healers after my fight with Imogen?” I whisper to her so the others around us don’t hear. The last thing I need is gossip spreading about this while I’m still figuring my own feelings out.

She nods. “Yeah I remember. Practically rushed over and scooped you up in his arms before you could get off the mat. Was quite romantic.” I roll my eyes at her.

Our group comes to a stop in front of the gauntlet, Xaden and Garrick making their way over with Emettiro. Both their eyes locked on mine.

I lean closer to her. “He might have confessed he’s essentially been in love with me for years and years despite me being dead and I kind of panicked and ran off and have been avoiding him ever since. Which also means avoiding my brother.”

She shakes her head and chuckles at me. “Girl I could have told you he was in love with you. No one looks at someone the way he does with out being in love.”

I go to reply but Emettiro calls us to start running the gauntlet. And I’m glad Rhiannon and I end up near the front, being one of the first ones to go. Though I doubt Xaden and Garrick are here to try talk to me, as much as they may want to. At the end of the day, they want the wing to do well.

I step up as Rhiannon takes off, my eyes meeting Garrick’s. His face is a mask and I can’t read it at all. I can tell he’s upset though. He’s never like that with me. I’m one of the few he never puts a mask up for. Xaden on the other hand is intently focused on Violet who is behind me. Before I take off up the gauntlet I offer Garrick a quick smile. For a brief second before I take off, his mask falters and his eyes soften as he gives me a tight lipped smile. The entire way up the I feel his eyes following me. He’s yet to see me climb it. And probably won’t tomorrow as most of the leadership wait up top for their squads and wings to pass the gauntlet.

I reach the top with ease. Yet again Melgren’s training had really prepared me for this. I’d barely had any issues getting up the gauntlet in the first day. And most times I caught up to or passed the person in front of me. As much as I didn’t want to think it. I was grateful for his training over the years. I turn around to look down the gauntlet to see both Garrick and briefly Xaden looking up at me. Both look happy with how easily I made it up. Xaden’s gaze drops to something below me. Violet is yet again stuck on the last parts of the gauntlet. And dare I say, does Xaden looks concerned? His eyes shift up to mine. We both know she needs to find an alternate way up the last part of the gauntlet.

Part 9

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh

[crossdressingdeath]

You know, thinking about it, I was wrong before. Nico has more reason to trust Hades than Percy does Poseidon at the time of the incident in TLO!

If you think about it, Percy's only evidence that Nico should've known it was a trap is that "[Nico] know[s] what [Hades]'s like", but... Nico's view of Hades would be much different from Percy's. Remember, Nico has a room in the palace at this time; Hades couldn't send him to his room the way he does later if he didn't have a room to be sent to. He's been living there! Hades allows him to live there! At this point Nico doesn't know that Hades used to visit him, Maria and Bianca regularly or that he actively stepped in to protect Nico and Bianca from Zeus and keep them safe until the time of Titan's Curse, but he does know that Hades is letting him live in his palace. Gods don't do that. Percy has to nearly die to even get a brief visit to Poseidon's palace, and he very openly knows that Poseidon wouldn't have claimed him to begin with if he didn't need him. Not to mention Poseidon has that whole thing where he explicitly tells Percy he wishes he didn't exist, which... is the sort of thing that's gonna have a negative impact on how you view your dad.

So when Percy says that Nico knows what Hades is like, what he's saying is basically... "The Underworld is evil and Hades is evil, how could you not know that," which is kind of an incredibly shitty thing to say to the child of Hades living in the Underworld? I mean, it is kind of just "You shouldn't trust your father because I think he's evil and the Underworld is evil", if I was Nico I'd be very concerned about what Percy thought of me when he started spouting that shit. Anyway, while Hades is far from a good father at this point in the series Nico still knows him as the father who is letting him live in his palace because he has nowhere to go, stepping well outside the usual bounds of gods interacting with their kids in the process. Hell, unless I've forgotten something (possible), it's entirely possible that by this point in the timeline Hades has already told Nico about Camp Jupiter (which would show a huge amount of faith in him, again above and beyond any other godly parent). Hades can be kind of a dick because all gods are dicks to their kids, but Nico has no particular reason not to trust him! Especially given Nico has exactly zero other adults in his life offering him any support and at this point in the timeline he doesn't remember his mother, so Hades is basically all he's got and he has no points of comparison other than his also-a-child sister who kinda sorta abandoned him (not going into her reasoning here but it was A Thing that would probably influence the way Nico thought about... caregivers, I guess, for lack of a better term to describe the twelve year old put in charge of her little brother) and Minos (who is... Minos. Enough said). It makes sense that when Hades says "Do this small thing for me and I'll tell you about your mother" Nico believes him, because while Hades has been awful to Nico at times there's no evidence that he's ever lied to him. Why should Nico doubt his father who gave him a place to stay when he had nothing and no one just because that father happens to be Hades and the place to stay happens to be the Underworld?

...Also in hindsight knowing just how much Hades spoils Nico (for a godly parent at least) in the future makes the "You know what Hades is like" thing kind of hilarious. Ah yes, the guy who gives Nico a place to stay when he has nowhere to go despite gods Not Doing That, tells him at least some of the gods' most guarded secrets and essentially takes it on faith that he'll keep his mouth shut, lets him get away with breaking the law that the dead stay dead without even a slap on the wrist, promises him a place in the palace when he eventually dies (which may or may not imply that Hades intends to make Nico a god when he bites it, but it's certainly not normal procedure for Underworld kids), tells him to his face he deserves everything, and backs up that claim by fulfilling his wishes with no payment required or debt accrued just because Nico asked if Hades thinking he deserved everything meant he'd do so (because Nico is a little shit, we love to see it) despite Hades claiming that wasn't actually what he meant. Why would Nico trust that guy? (I know, I know, it's not proof of anything at this point because most of that hasn't happened yet. But it is funny how completely Percy's claim that Nico should distrust his dad is eventually proved wrong by Hades spoiling his kid rotten.)

[andreal831]

can you elaborate on klaus' relationships with his sisters?

I've talked about Klaus and Rebekah several times, but I don't think I've ever really talked about Klaus and Freya. I've talked about Klaus' abuse to Rebekah, his lack of respect for Rebekah, and how Klaus has issues with women, which are all relevant here.

People like to paint Klaus as being a protective brother, but in reality he is possessive, not protective. He isn't protective over his sisters because he loves them, he is possessive because he doesn't want to be alone.

I'm not saying he doesn't love them, he does in his own way. But he's actually incredibly abusive to both of them. I think it's fascinating how the fandom holds Klaus and either sister up as these "close bonds" when in reality they are so forced by the writers.

Klaus and Rebekah

Klaus and Rebekah at least have their childhood to explain Rebekah's devotion to her brother. Just like Elijah, she has a twisted need to defend Klaus through everything. In TVD, she did it even more than Elijah. Klaus abused her over and over again and she continued to defend him. A lot of this can be a symptom of abuse. He made her feel so lonely and afraid that if she left him, she would have no one. He made sure she had no one by continuously robbing her of any relationship outside of him. Anytime she would fall in love, he would kill them.

To me, I don't find their relationship sweet because even when they are having their "sweet" moments, it just reminds me of how abusers will apologize and promise to be better. But Klaus never really does better by Rebekah. They just stop being in each others lives. Klaus exiles Rebekah because of the one time she actually tried to defend herself. Then he only calls her back when he needs her to take care of Hope. Once again, we only see them interact when Klaus needs Rebekah to offer herself up to Esther. He compels Marcel to kill her witch body, forcing her back into her vampire body. Then they have brief sweet moments when Rebekah is in and out of their lives until he dies. He doesn't even contact her when he is on a bender for years.

At the very end he "gets" her the cure, although it is not his to offer or promise. Rebekah had the same ability to get it from Elena and Damon. It was just a way to "fix" their relationship without putting in any effort. He never really feels remorse for putting her through hell for a thousand years. Rebekah stated she never got a chance to live and it is because of Klaus.

I get that Claire was out of the show for most of TO which prevented them from repairing their relationships, but given how little effort the writers put into Klaus' familial relationships, I don't think it would have made a difference.

Klaus and Freya

Klaus didn't trust Freya in the beginning and I don't fully blame him for it. But his abuse to her didn't just end with him killing her and tormenting her over her dead unborn child. For most of their relationship, he only spoke to her when he needed a witch or a babysitter. The shift in their relationship comes out of nowhere and is essentially just Freya moving on from the abuse and Klaus continuing to undermine her without apologizing for anything.

They, like with Rebekah, have moments of tenderness from Klaus, but they are few and far between. For the most part, they either don't interact, or when they do Klaus is usually demanding and rude. Freya at least stands up to him more, but it does little to change Klaus' attitude.

I also feel like Klaus just uses the same line with all of his siblings. You have the "You are my sister" moment with Freya which mirrors the "You are a Mikaelson" moment with Kol. He is essentially dismissing their complaints about his abuse because they are family and he loves them. He's all words but no follow through. He promises that family means everything to him but has a thousand years of evidence to say the opposite. I wish Freya had remained more like season 2 Freya with Klaus. The Mikaelsons desperately needed an older sibling to actually protect them against Klaus. Freya would be perfect for this since their relationship started off so bad and she didn't have history with him. Freya initially was, but the writers couldn't let anyone stay mad at Klaus for too long, lest they actually have to hold him accountable for things.

My problem with Klaus and his family or really any relationship, we are told to like their bond more than shown why we should. The only person we see him spend extended amount of time with is Cami. Everyone else he just seems to use and they love him for some reason. But we don't really see him treat them well or earn that love. He just gets unconditional love from his family, which is ironic considering how much he complains about not having that.

Freya naming her son after Klaus was so much fanservice. She clearly would have named her son Finn, you know the brother she had missed for a thousand years and that died protecting her. Even Klaus helping Elijah walk Freya down the aisle was just because the writers had to center Klaus in everything. But he was not the logical choice for that. Throughout the show, we see Elijah and Freya bonding over the hardships of family in a way we don't see with Klaus and Freya.

All of this to say, the writers really failed to develop Klaus' relationships with nearly every character in the show. They used his abusive behavior toward his sisters as the punchline of the joke half of the time. But because the writers throw in a couple of sweet lines, the fandom pretends that Klaus and his sisters were actually close.

Klaus had the ability to be close with his sister and probably had a lot in common with each of them. The writers just cared more about ratings and drama than to center a show about family around the actual family.

Thanks for the ask! Sorry, I kind of went on a rant.

[pray4saint]

helloooooo!! back again!! (so sorry ^^”)

dteam taking care of sick reader hcs?? (separate)

tyy :)

dteam taking care of sick!reader

masterlist & descrip. pg. 13+. gn!reader.

a/n. don't be sorry i love seeing my moots in my inbox! & oml dteam n sick!reader literally make my heart sob in a good way

dream

this mf is texting his mom either asking her for a soup recipe or asking her to make for you because he remembers that soup always making him feel better when he was sick as a kid (and four months ago when he was sick, the soup helped then too 🙄)

when you push him away from you when he tries to hug you, he pouts like a baby

”clay, baby no, i don't wanna get you sick.” ”i don't care y/n i want to hug you. i promise you i'll be fine.” you look at him with brows furrowed. you knew he wouldn't be giving up all that easily so you give in. ”fine.” his eyes light up as he wraps his arms around you.

promises he'll be back in twenty minutes when his mom texts him that he can come pick up the soup and he is, bringing it to you in a mug

absolutely believes in home remedies and warmth solving all the sickness / meaning he's letting your snuggle into his chest and texting his mom about anything else she knows may help

also takes your phone when you complain about having a headache

makes sapnap tweet about him being so MIA from the internet

HOWEVER, that he absolutely takes selfies of him bringing you things and taking care of you for his snap story, because he's so silly like that

doesn't protest at all when you want to binge a show he doesn't like

but of course when you start to get better, he gets sick

”i can't believe i you got me sick.” he pouts and he is a little sarcastic in his tone but you only look at him with a slight scowl. ”i told you not to hug me clay. this is your fault.” ”you know what baby?” he looks at you but your scowl remains, ”it was totally worth it.” you nod to him. ”it better have been.”

sapnap

brings you over and settles you on the couch so that you get to have some social interaction, even if it's just his roommates when they come down to get water or snacks

takes you out for ice cream on the first day

always holding your hand when he's with you and walks you too and from the bathroom, almost as if he's scared you'll fall over and die

”sap i promise i'm fine, you don't have to walk me to the bathroom.” your boyfriend scoffs, hands hovering over your hips to make sure you don't fall. ”i'm not taking any chances darlin'.”

quick, light kisses at the backside base of your neck and on your shoulders

this guy buys like fourteen types of medicine and asks you which one you want to try because he doesn't know what'll work

when nothing works he asks his roommates and texts his mom

george gives him specific directions for scheduling and dream offers to get you food but that's all they can do / his mom and sisters come over and spend time with you, talking to you, making you food and doing your chores

also one day when his family is over to see you and you've given him approval, he does a valorant stream, smiling despite how many times he dies because he loves hearing your giggles mixed with those of his mom and sisters

his sisters definitely send him funny pictures of them and you and his mom laughing, to which he shows stream one of you posing in a funny way

also makes you do light exercise while you're sick so that you don't get worse

”c'mon y/n, i promise you this'll help.” ”i just wanna take a nap..” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, ”after these last two lunges i'll walk you back to the couch, okay?” all you do is nod at him, focused on getting back to your precious sleep.

george

at first he thinks you're kidding when you text him and tell him you're sick (mostly because that man is such a fucking germophobe)

when you call him, coughing, voice hoarse and nose red, he somehow lets go of every germophobic thought he's ever had and tells you he's coming to pick you up

you do not get to stay in your own home when you're sick, no you go over to his place, sleep in his bed while he sleeps on the couch and he acts like a real full-time care nurse

george sets the mug of tea down on the table next to the bed and smiles at you. your returned smile is weak. ”love is there anything else i can get you?” you shake your head and he looks down at his watch. ”alright, well in about thirty minutes you have to go to the bathroom again.” ”no i don't.” ”it's important while you're sick that you have regular trips to the washroom.” you look up at the ceiling, cursing yourself for falling for a man who acts like such a doctor.

– still absolutely refuses to let his mouth touch your skin while you're sick because he doesn't want to get sick himself

he will hold your hand or rub your back or your stomach, or even massage your shoulders but he washes his hands right afterwards every single time

george waking up every two and a half hours in the night to check on you, your temperature, if you need anything or to go to the bathroom, etc

also calls off all his streams despite the amount of times you told him it was fine and that you would be okay

”georgie i told you it's fine.” you try to protest but he's already turned his phone over and onto the tabled. ”nope, taking care of you comes first love.”

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

[wordsandrobots]

I just wanted to say I have so much respect for the incredible essays and fic you write for IBO, and I’m so grateful you’re in this fandom.

I was wondering, have you talked previously about McGillis’ line of “Is there such thing as true happiness and fake happiness?” especially when considered alongside his line of wanting to make Almiria happy? If not, what do you make of that?

It’s been floating around in my head ever since I watched the show, but I haven’t been able to figure out exactly what to make of it and haven’t had the time to rewatch the show yet.

Thank you! My brain has been set to overdrive on the subject of Iron-Blooded Orphans for more than three years now (please send help) so I'm not sure I could have stopped if I tried.

Anyway. Oh boy. That line. No, I haven't written commentary on it previously, at least not directly. But it underpins literally everything I've done in terms of fanfic spiralling out of McGillis' actions, so I have thought about it quite a lot.

For me -- apart from being the moment Gaelio realises precisely how far he's fucked everything up -- that question is the distillation of McGillis as a character. And as much as he says it about his treatment of Almira, it also serves as an excellent vector for examining McGillis and Gaelio's changing relationship throughout the entire show, specifically with regard to why Gaelio is Always Wrong (TM) about his best-friend-turned-mortal-enemy.

The context here is important, since this final scene is the one point in the entire show where we can uncomplicatedly say McGillis is being completely open. He's lost. He's dying. Everything he hoped to achieve has fallen to pieces. Visually, he's been stripped back to his child self, hair fallen wild and expression dulled. This is McGillis undone. It no longer matters what he does or how he presents, so he's finally able to be honest with Gaelio. All the masks are off.

Gaelio, of course, is in full avenger mode, demanding McGillis stay alive long enough to look directly at the consequences of his actions and face his crimes. And McGillis finally admits that all the jumping up and down and masked-ghost shenanigans was unnecessary: he'd *always* seen Gaelio and always held affection for him. He wasn't some cold traitor, saying all the right things to get close enough to stab everyone in the back. Gaelio and Carta were his friends, and though that was anathema to his desire for power, it wasn't a fraud. He even promised to make Gaelio's sister happy for the sake of their friendship.

The English dub script adds the phrase 'no matter the cost' to the end of this statement and I think that's a very acute sentiment, given McGillis nearly dies sooner due to the wound he suffered stopping Almiria from killing herself. His own actions prove he means what he says: even at the cost of harm to himself, he was determined to honour his word on at least this point.

Predictably, Gaelio responds by reiterating the accusation of McGillis spreading delusions. Any happiness McGillis gave to Almiria could only be fake (due to the scheming, backstabbing, brother-murdering and so on). Which leads McGillis to asking, does it matter?

Are there such things as true and fake happiness?

I mentioned masks. For Gaelio, that's a literal object, a disguise to conceal his survival (from anybody who doesn't have the official height chart to hand, at least), that is literally discarded at this point. But for McGillis, the masks always run deeper. Indeed, if there's one thing we can say about his Montag persona and the attendant jester's visage, it's that it allows him to act more like he really wants to, to the point he starts getting a little giddy.

No, for him, masking is performance. Acting. The construction of a surface persona to meet the demands of the situation he's in. Gaelio draws attention to this when describing how McGillis changed as they grew into teenagers, opting to actively fit in with the social scene around them and only seeming to share his 'true' feelings when the two were alone. As the audience, though, we can trace his chameleonic nature back further. In the montage of McGillis' past, we see him adapting to the various situations he is forced into, first by teaching himself to commit violence to establish dominance, then by cultivating studiousness. It seems unlikely McGillis being chosen as Iznario's heir was disconnected from how hard he worked on building himself up in order to survive. Learning how to navigate social and political environments is a natural progression of these efforts.

That this *is* conscious construction is key. Because McGillis also sets out to transform himself into the ideal Agnika Kaieru represents. Ultimately this culminates in physically altering his body so he can use Gundam Bael, but it's far more than that. He trains himself in the two-sword fighting style Agnika used, long before he's anywhere near achieving his goal. He immerses himself in Gjallarhorn's hierarchy and assists skilled, lower-class officers like Isurugi. He dispenses with his childhood sombreness in favour of an authoritative, rigorous, charismatic professional persona. All of this serves his goal of achieving absolute power, yes. It's also about shaping himself into what he thinks he should be -- the embodiment of the characteristics he attributes to Agnika.

There are a few positive aspects to this. Gaelio, operating on the assumption McGillis is a cynical back-stabber, thinks he goes to Mars to survey the mobile armour situation for personal gain. But in truth McGillis goes to ensure Hashmal doesn't awaken. It's the kind of move someone in Gjallarhorn *should* make, so he does. That he is later inspired to go after the Order of the Seven Stars as Gaelio originally imagined he intended is a reaction to things spiralling out of control and exciting him with the world's most ill-advised historical re-enactment; it's not where he comes into the situation. Likewise, he seems to have been a fairly good inspector, exposing corrupt officers like Coral and later doing due diligence on pulling the Outer Earth Orbit Regulatory Joint Fleet (oh cripes I can write than from memory) into proper fighting shape.

At the same time, it means McGillis is always dishonest with other people. He's always got an angle, is always holding something back, always tries to fit everyone into his plans, somehow. Even when he is truthful (such as saying he's admired Carta for treating him as an equal when they were kids or sharing his faith in Agnika's principles with Almiria), there are other factors to consider. His scheme to gain power inside Gjallarhorn, his need to keep things running smoothly, his obsession with being the individual who can transform the world -- these are in play right up until he is bleeding out on the floor.

It's natural, given this, to ask 'who is the true McGillis?' What really exists underneath the layers of performance? However, I think doing so is to repeat a lot of Gaelio's mistakes because, as we eventually find out, McGillis himself fails to draw a meaningful boundary between 'real' and 'fake'.

He promised Gaelio he'd take care of Almiria while in the act of killing him. It was politically prudent to maintain the engagement and he also considered Gaelio a true friend, so there's good reason to honour the promise. On top of that, Almiria is someone he appears to care greatly for, perhaps out of fellow-feeling since she is as much a pawn in others' games as he once was. Thus, her happiness becomes one of his chief goals. To this end, he accommodates her wishes to be seen as a grown-up lady (as imagined by a nine-year-old) and explains how what he is doing will benefit them both. He goes so far as to stop her from harming herself once his deception is exposed, promising that one day, she will be truly happy despite everything.

And the next time he refers to Almiria in any way -- the last time, prior to his final confrontation with Gaelio -- it is to internally chide her for being so troublesome as to leave him with a wound that negatively affects his battlefield performance. Placed alongside his earlier lines to her and the act of putting his hand in the way of the dagger she aimed at her throat, it's an *incredibly* dismissive reaction. It would be easy to read this as him having only pretended to care about Almiria all along, concealing a real disdain. Except, again -- he put his hand in the way of that dagger, without hesitation.

What's going on here?

Well, McGillis presents in whichever way he needs to in order to navigate his circumstances, saying whatever he thinks is most likely to get the outcome he wants. That's his base state for interacting with the world, as a consequence of growing up the way he did. Seeing no distinction in the veracity of happiness speaks to a very outcome-focused view on human interaction. What difference does it make if a positive reaction is prompted by sincerity or by moulding oneself into a form best suiting the other person? They're still happy. Or giving the appearance of it. That's enough, right?

We eventually see this approach fail with Tekkadan, owing to McGillis' misunderstandings about them. Towards the end of the show, stripped of material superiority, his appeals to their fighting spirit fall flat. He tries to sway them on the level he thinks they operate (pride, desire for power, strength of will) rather than the shared loyalty and familial bonds that actually drive them forward. He simply doesn't realise the things they have pursued were always a means to an end -- each other's safety -- rather than the end itself.

That failure highlights both how important it is to engage with the reality of what you're trying to manipulate (the critical distinction separating him from Rustal) and how genuine McGillis is about his stated goals. He really does want to become the all-powerful leader of Gjallarhorn and believes that will allow him to make the world better. He'd do anything to achieve it. Just like he really means to ensure Almiria's happiness, however much he needs to cover up and present differently -- or even suffer physical harm -- to do so.

That right there is the fundamental problem with how Gaelio sees him throughout Season 2. He doesn't get that McGillis' performances are not strictly falsehoods but tools used to obtain the outcome he's proclaiming to anyone who'll listen. The act may be pieced together from truth or lies or force of strength; what matters is that it *works*.

I spent my essay about Agnika focusing on McGillis' ideology. What the true/false happiness line exemplifies is his methodology or, more strictly, the survival strategy he adapted into a generalised approach. It's the Tekkadan strategy error -- applying the same methods over and over in situations where they are increasingly counter-productive -- writ on a subtler scale. A compulsive need to treat every interpersonal encounter as having a specific outcome, where the actual content, the human connection, and the emotional impact lose any significance beyond 'if X then Y'.

The kicker being that, when McGillis does have to deal with genuine emotions on their own terms, he shoves them as far away from himself as he can. Carta and Gaelio should have been his closest allies and loyalist supporters, not to mention a positive impact on his wellbeing due to, you know, actually caring about him as a person. Instead, he kills/tries to kill them, not just because their deaths serve his ambitions but because they gave him something other than his ambitions -- full stop. Something else. And he couldn't have both.

McGillis could not build himself into the perfect embodiment of individualism while keeping his friends close. He couldn't continue to persist on an outcome-focused approach with unprompted, un-targeted happiness just happening to him. From everything else about his character, I'm not sure he could ever have trusted the feelings Carta and Gaelio induced in him. Far better to construct the happiness he thought he wanted. Far safer. Far more natural, for someone under no illusions about the world's hypocrisies, or what people do in order to survive.

The tragedy is that this is an inescapable problem. McGillis was always going to chose the constructed ideal future over the reality that lay within touching distance. The damage, for that's what this is, was done long before anyone who cared was in a position to intervene. This is somebody who'd execute the people he cares for and who cannot understand his best friend crying over his dying admission of affection, any more than he can grasp why being willing to do anything to ensure a little girl's happiness isn't necessarily laudable. Where would you even begin trying to unpick that?

Which of course is exactly what makes him so effective within this story. There's a paradox at the heart of McGillis, which is part of why I've never tried to write his perspective in my fic, where he manages to be profoundly honest and chronically self-deluding, the signifiers of a manipulative bastard twisted around into . . . I don't really want to call it pathology because I think that undersells the active choice to be who he is. But we see how he got there, the trauma that went into making him, how different aspects of it meshed together, shaping him one after the other. It's not just the homelessness, or the sexual assault, or being trafficked, or being made a pawn in a political game, or fixating on a historical figure. It's all of them put together, and I think it's a fantastic bit of character work.

There simply isn't a solution. Just an inescapable arc towards disaster, and the devastation of a pair of siblings who each loved him more dearly than he could possibly conceptualise.

-----

That's more or less where I land on things, anyway. Hopefully this was mostly coherent, as rambles go? Like with everything to do with McGillis, I can never just pull one thread. The man's a living rats-nest, which I love about him but does make it difficult to be succinct!

Thank you very much for the ask, and for your kind words. I will admit to feeling a degree of 'if there's no active fandom for this show, I'll damn well do it myself' when I started writing the fic and the essays, so it delights me no end to know there are people getting a kick out of them. :)

[randomfoggytiger]

"Mr. Mulder, I Know Something About You"

(Dedicated to @baronessblixen for her fascinating idea: Bill Scully giving Tom Colton and Ethan Minette binders bulging with dirt on one Fox Mulder. This took a slightly different path, though.)

*****

The first time Bill heard the name Fox Mulder was the day after his sister and her partner were sucked almost dry and hospitalized in Washington State for nearly two weeks. One fuzzy, panicked call from Tara and one fuzzier, harried call from his mom sketched in the slim details: Dana was on the mend, she’d been investigating a missing loggers’ case with her partner--

“What 'partner'? She’s in the field?” 

She had been, for months. He’d forgotten to ask at their father’s funeral, convinced that her height and lack of experience had kept her teaching at Quantico. 

“Dana's mentioned him once before, I think. You know how tight-lipped she is about her life.”  

“Mom, do I need to come home? Is she….”

“No, Bill-- but I’ll call you if she takes a turn for the worse.” 

So, Bill stayed on board; and Dana got better, and Tara celebrated over the phone, and Maggie remembered the name: Fox Mulder. 

*****

The second time Bill heard the name Fox Mulder were the days following his sister’s abduction. 

His mother talked of little else-- with Dana’s captor dead, any possible leads had died with him. There was nothing now but faith and hope.  

“But I believe Fox will call as soon as he finds her.” 

Fox. His sister, Tara had told him, still called him Mulder. Then again, Tara’s attention was currently wrapped up in calendars and planners and endless negatives. For that matter, his was, too; and what little time he had to think of family he thought of her, alone, counting the rising costs of their countless tries, alone, while he worked as often as he could to forget to cover those costs and forget his own loneliness. And his sister, somewhere, alone; and his mother back in Maryland, alone.

Dana and her former partner’s professional relationship wasn’t a top priority, or even a distant concern.  

**** 

The third time Bill heard the name Fox Mulder was after promising his eldest sister that Tara would try her fertility herbs. His wife was curled up on one side, quiet, and Melissa stuck her toes in his other side, slyly smiling.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” she concluded, setting aside the herb pouch and pinning him with her eyes, “why haven’t you given Dana a call? She hasn’t said it, but she’s been expecting one.” 

“Don’t start, Missy.” He’d have disengaged, too, but Tara’s head was pressing into his shoulder, a sure sign she was falling asleep. And sleep was precious these days, what with the hormone shots and regular appointments and never-ending stress. He’d promised to shoulder her stresses for nine more weeks; and whether this was a test or not, Bill Scully had and would never back down from his word. 

Melissa, opportunistic woman that she was, had banked on it, waiting for her sister-in-law’s “dozing” tea to kick in before launching the subject. “Billy, you know you want to talk to her. What’s the problem? I mean, she almost… we almost lost her. Why can’t you let whatever you’re holding onto--” 

“Miss--” he stopped, his voice startling them temporarily.

“You owe it to her, Bill. You two haven’t talked in months; and you both say it’s because of your work but really it’s because of your pride. You’re both so like Dad; but at least Dad was blind to what it did to us."

“And what about Dana? She's back on her feet and running right back to her autopsies and late nights. You can’t point a finger at me without three pointing right back at her. At least I try to be there for my family.” 

“You weren’t there when she was gone.” 

He swallowed, stung and angry. “And who was, Melissa? You?”

Her toes gripped his hip, guilty. “Fox.” 

*****

The fourth time Bill heard Fox Mulder’s name was during his sister’s not-so-secret battle with cancer. His mother called often to vent and cry, unable to share her worries and pain with her only living daughter and unwilling to burden Tara with more stress.  

Fox had become a footnote of late, so consumed was he and Dana in their work. 

“Mom, how can you let Dana run herself down like that? She should be resting or looking into treatments-- anything rather than chasing after rag magazine cases half across the country!” 

“Bill, you know perfectly well not everyone can run to sea to escape their problems. Not even you.” 

*****

The fifth time Bill heard Fox Mulder’s name was after he’d met the man, watched him fill Dana’s head with insane theories about chips and government conspiracies, and backed off, awed, when Dana’s cancer miraculously went into remission. 

He was roaming the halls, searching for coffee to wash down the remainder of his rage at Fox Mulder’s red eyes and dazed expression when he noticed another government type walk stiffly towards the nurse’s desk, brusquely flash a badge, straighten his stiff spine and stiffer tie, and promptly demand to see “Fox Mulder.” 

“I know where he is,” Bill cut in, saving the nurse the hassle but still getting a glare for his trouble. “Bill Scully. How can I help you?”

“Yes-- I was sent to bring him back for questioning; and we’re expected in,” he looked significantly at his watch, “forty minutes. If you would take me to him--”

“Take Mulder where?” Bill snapped around to see Walter Skinner, A.D., striding over, eyebrows drawn and face grim.  

“Yes, Sir. Agent Mulder is being called in for--”

“The committee’s been disbanded until further notice, Agent Colton; and until I have those further orders, my agents are not to be bothered or contacted while they are in this hospital. Is that understood?” 

Bill watched the other man’s jaw lock, grind, and shift as it worked its stubborn way around, “Understood, Sir.” Then Agent Colton turned tail and fled, heels thudding down the tile on their thunderous path to the elevator. 

A.D. Skinner wasn’t done yet. “My apologies, Mr. Scully. That agent was out of line; and I'll see to it that your family isn't bothered again.” 

It was best to nod and let the A.D. think he was frustrated with the intrusion.

Mulder could have been mid-conversation or on his way out by now. Instead, he would still be on that bench long after the family had left for the night. 

He seemed the type. 

*****

The sixth time Bill heard Fox Mulder’s name was over another phone call, mere months before the birth of his child. 

“Bill Scully? You might not remember me, but my name’s Ethan, Ethan Minette, and Dana and I used to date back when, well rather, right after she was recruited by the FBI. She ever mention me? Yes? No? Anyway, not important. Calling about information you might possibly have on, lemme check… Fox? Mulder, yep, Fox Mulder. Dana’s partner? There was a case she was involved in recently, really gruesome, real Frankenstein abomination stuff; and Colton, Tom Colton? You know him? Dana’s friend? Anyway, we keep in touch, we’re related somewhat, you know? And he named you as a hot tip and I was wondering if you…. Yeah, yeah, I can wait.” 

He and Tara fought afterward: Tara, as big as a house, was ready to cave the roof in.

“Dana’s coming for the holidays, Bill! And you two will spend the week in stony silence avoiding each other and, and Maggie and I will have to try to keep the peace instead of celebrating our first Christmas as a growing family, and-- and how could you do that, Bill? After all Fox Mulder did for our family?” 

Bill was lacking even to his ears; and, after cooler heads prevailed, he dialed Ethan back up and insisted his name be kept out of the article. Ethan talked doubly fast, banging a pen up and down every other word for emphasis as he cajoled and steamed about losing necessary credibility; but, inevitably, gave in. 

“I’ll only do this because you’re Dana’s brother and she was a real sweetheart. But if I need to call you in future…?” 

“I don’t have any more information.”

Dana skipped most of Christmas, anyway. 

*****

The seventh time Bill heard Fox Mulder’s name was when he flew in for Emily Sim’s hearing. 

“I need him as a witness if I’m to have any chance getting custody of Emily,” Dana had stated carefully, meticulously avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Bill still caught her bewilderment and fear… and joy. 

“When’ll he get here?” 

“Tonight, tomorrow… he didn’t say when, just that he’d be here.” He caught her smile, too. 

“Dana…” Her head snapped up, and he paused. “We’ll be there.” 

“Bill, you don’t have to--”

“We’ll be there, Dana.” 

And they were. 

And so was Fox Mulder. 

Bill left with Tara, tired and emotional, and Maggie, displaced and confused, after exchanging silent, cursory greetings with his sister’s partner. While he slowly walked away, both women in tow, he heard a curt “Dana Scully and Fox Mulder” echo behind him. 

And, in spite of everything, he sent up a prayer for both.

*****

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic

[halliescomut]

Kiseki Ep 9

So I don't have proof, but Ai Di was planning to leave. He used the 'orders' from Boss man as an excuse, but I think even if he hadn't seen that text he would have just up and disappeared. I think he took that conversation with Zong Yi in ep 7 to heart and thought that it would be possible for him to leave and not see Chen Yi, and that if he was gone long enough his feelings would die.

I do want to know what Chen Yi is thinking though. Because after we pop back to the present and he brings Ai Di home...it feels like he's trying to get Ai Di to admit he has feelings for him and that's why he took advantage. And if he gets that confession it means that he can confess too, because I think he remembers that night and has now had his feelings for Ai Di change, or perhaps they've simply become clearer. For all the brother stuff, Chen Yi not wanting to see Ai Di being potentially romantically involved with anyone feels a lot to me like jealousy more than a brotherly interest in keeping your freshly 18 'brother' from sowing his oats. I don't know. I do 1000% think that despite all of the depression drinking and Chen Yi still answering to Bossman, I don't think he has the same level of adoration anymore. I think Bossman using Zong Yi and then sending Ai Di into the prison AND promising Ai Di that he could be free of the gang broke ALL of that.

The Ai Di stuff didn't make me cry, but it was so close. Because that 'love scene'...that was clearly Ai Di knowing he was making a choice he wouldn't be able to come back from and thinking that even if all he has is a memory that will be enough.

And Zong Yi... that's what made me cry. Seeing him reunited with his family, but it's never going to go back to how it was even though his dad is okay and now they have each other. It was so sweet and so sad. Like, the poor sister blaming herself, and dad blaming himself, and Zong Yi blaming himself, it's so fucking sad.

The Jhe Ruei stuff was rough to see. Knowing what we do about how Jhe Ruei came to the Fan family and what he gave up, and the lengths he was going to hide his true self, and failing in some aspects. Seeing the 'Old man' (who I don't know if he's Jhe Ruei's father or grandfather tbh) talk about how they can't trust him fully because he's different after suffering MASSIVE BRAIN TRAUMA AND LOSING HIS MEMORY made me want to knock some sense into him. Like how the fuck????

But also what was the point of the Fan family wanting to take Zong Yi out when he was already in jail?? Like what was the purpose...is he just an old-fashioned homophobe, or is he worried Jhe Ruei will remember and leave the family for Zong Yi? Because, dude you barely want him there, so what do you really care?? And it can't really be about 'appearances' when he's an illegitimate heir and isn't going to be given any sort of position of power. I really don't know what's going through the old man's head.

I'm confused, I'm worried, I'm a little sad. So I guess we'll see what happens next week.

Also if you weren't aware there is a 'bonus episode' like episode 8.5 that's up. I watched it on bili, but it gives a bit more insight into the whole Teng and Dragon Gang debacle. It's not really SUPER necessary to follow the general story, but it does give more info. But if you watch MODC, then you may have a bit of a PTSD reaction to watching it...as a warning.

[omgthatdress]

In the books, Nellie was an Irish-American servant girl that Samantha befriends and teaches to read. Because Samantha is nine and has had a fairly sheltered upbringing, she doesn’t quite have the understandings of class structure that separates her and Nellie, she just sees a friend. Nellie opens Samantha’s eyes to the broader world beyond Grandmary’s mansion and helps her understand the social issues facing turn-of-the century America.

In Changes for Samantha, Grandmary has finally married Admiral Archibald Beemis, and Samantha has gone to live with Uncle Gard and Cornelia in New York City. There, she finds out that Nellie’s parents have died and she is living with her uncle Mike in the city. Samantha sets out to find her, only to find that she’s been abandoned and is living in an orphanage. Eventually, she helps Nellie and her sisters escape, and they come to be adopted by Uncle Gard and Cornelia.

I always thought that felt like an unreasonably happy ending for Nellie, given her social inferiority and that adoption was actually fairly taboo in the era of social darwinism and eugenics, but I also know that rich White progressives of the era LOVED doing shit like that, so I guess it’s not completely unreasonable.

Reading the summary of the book Nellie’s Promise made me sooooooo fucking happy. It gets into all those issues of social inequality and gives Nellie a lot more agency in being more than just a lucky orphan. I especially loved the parts about how Nellie was unhappy going to Samantha’s private girl’s school where she was learning nothing practical and only being trained in how to be a rich society wife. Nellie knew she needed a practical education so that she’d be able to secure a job in the future and fulfill her promise of taking care of her sisters. In the end, she’s able to enroll in a vocational school that fits her needs. I love it. I love it so fucking much.

Before I go any further, I should probably just go ahead and say that in this era, the Irish were still very much considered White. The definition of Whiteness in the 1900s was very different from what it is today (plz read The History of White People by Nell Irvin), and some people were Whiter than others, but the Irish were White. White*, if you will. They would be listed as White on all their legal documents, and weren’t faced with segregation the way that Black people were. The Irish were never slaves (they sure as shit were slave owners, though!) and don’t ever fucking compare anti-Irish discrimination to anti-Blackness and anti-Semitism. They are all their own unique things and playing the oppression olympics does no one any good. And YES I know about the history of the colonization of Ireland by England and anti-Irish attitudes in the UK, but I’m talking about American history. Anti-Irish American history and Anti-Irish British history are very, very different.

There’s a lot of raging ongoing debate about the extent to which the Irish were discriminated against in the US, and yes, there was discrimination. But literally EVERY immigrant group in the US faced discrimination and even violence. There’s a lot of academic debate about the whole “No Irish Need Apply” thing, but it was like that for EVERYONE. Italians, Poles, Greeks, Germans, Swedes, you name it, immigrants in general were all treated as unwelcome and less-than by the Anglo-Saxon Protestant powers that be at some point, the Irish were just another part of that. The idea that the Irish were somehow unique or special in their discrimination in America is a myth.

The point I’m making is that a lot of conservative Irish-Americans LOVE to make big maudlin claims of Irish victimhood and Irish slavery (THE IRISH WERE NEVER SLAVES) that somehow means they’re somehow exempt from having White privilege and taking personal responsibility to not be a racist fuck. That is pure bullshit, Irish-Americans have been White as fuck ever since JFK.

ANYWAY. All that being said, I love Nellie’s little outfit. It’s actually super accurate! A lovely little summer dress, perfect for visiting the ice cream parlor!

(The Museum of London, credit @in-pleasant-company​)

Again, like with Samantha, the hat should be more perched on the hair and held in place with hat pins rather than fitted to the head. But that’s probably beyond your average 7-year-old’s patience, so I guess I can give them a pass.

[prfctparis]

I’d Give You My Lungs So You Could Breathe (I’ve Got You, Brother) [CH3]

AO3 Link / One / Prev / Next / Masterlist

summary:

Danny Fenton was adopted at age ten, with little to no memories about his former family. At age fourteen, he died yet lived and those memories began to return. He didn’t do anything about those memories – didn’t plan to, at least not yet – but then he got captured by the GIW, saved by his friends and someone who might be his sister who he only somewhat remembered, and taken to Gotham to, apparently, his biological father for safety until further notice.

Team Phantom was there, too, and they did not sign up for this family drama.

a/n:

“ch3 will be up in a few days,” i said, like a lying liar who lies. i meant to!!! but then i sort of forgot and then got distracted by another fic i’m in the middle of writing mlmao oops. so i won’t promise or say when ch4 will be up, bc this was the last of my already written chapters from ao3 & my update schedule is of the 'when i can and want to' variety. hope u guys on tumblr enjoy this chapter!! :)

warnings for the entire fic:

canon-typical violence of the DC variety; angst; memory loss/repressed memories; do i need to say major character death(s) or is that just a given for this fandom; questionable parenting tho every parent is trying to do good & care for the kids; implied/referenced past child abuse bc of the child assassin backgrounds; pls tell me if i missed something

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: blood; stressed teenagers; athanasia has a borderline panic attack; vivisection is mentioned again but only once if i remember right; implied animal death but in the past & it’s like 1 paragraph

CHAPTER THREE —

The secret, new headquarters of the Ghost Investigation Ward was in upstate New York. The Wayne Manor was in Gotham City, New Jersey. The travel from Point A to Point B was about three hours and forty minutes long – a much longer drive than any of them wanted. But with Manson’s magic, the van stayed invisible to the human eye and Wesley was able to speed down the roads without cops chasing after them, cutting down the travel time immensely.

Still, it was a risk.

But stopping some place before they got to Gotham was also a risk. One Athanasia refused to take.

Maybe if Ra’s al Ghul hadn’t been there, would she allow them to stop at a roadside motel or something. But he was there. He had been in the room where they were operating on Danny. Mother had one of her servants save Danny from death eight years ago to get him out of the League, allowing Grandfather to believe he was dead, but now he knew.

And Athanasia wasn’t going to let that man get anywhere near close to her twin brother again. So, they weren’t going to stop until they made it to Wayne Manor.

The others weren’t happy about it. She didn’t care.

Of course, that didn’t mean she was happy about it, either.

Believe her, she wanted to stop sooner. She wanted to get to a place where they could properly take care of Danny’s injuries, and give him what he needed to heal, and take those damn power repressing cuffs off. All they could do was make sure the bandages on his chest stayed put and kept too much blood from bleeding out, and made sure that he didn’t die on the way to the manor, which was more difficult than Athanasia would like, seeing as though, as Phantom, he didn’t have a heartbeat.

Eventually, they got the cuffs off. It took a while, and it was mostly done by Foley and Gray, because Athanasia was busy bandaging her own wounds with the limited supplies in the van, and Manson was focused on keeping the van invisible while Wesley drove. They succeeded, though. Once both cuffs were off, a ring of light appeared around him and with a flash he had black hair again, and green blood turned red.

His healing factor didn’t kick in.

“What do you mean he isn’t healing?” Wesley asked, worried, when Foley informed them. “He should be.”

“I don’t know,” Foley said, tone unsure and worried.

“But he has a heartbeat now, right?” asked Athanasia. She kept her eyes on her thigh as she bandaged a wound on there. It wasn’t the best, and she didn’t have anything to clean the wound with, but it would have to do for now.

Gray replied, “Yeah. He’s got one.”

“Okay. Good.” It was the only thing she could get herself to say. The possibility of still being too late to save him, even with him now away from the GIW and LoA, put a restrictive weight on her chest. It lessened with Gray’s affirmation, but not much.

They made it to Gotham in just under two hours and fifteen minutes.

Athanasia only got a split second glimpse of the city’s poorly lit up welcome sign with how fast Wesley continued to drive. Truly a speed demon; he didn’t even slow down when they got into the city’s limits.

As they crossed one intersection, a car with goons hanging out of the windows holding guns sped through it behind them, with what looked to be Red Robin and Spoiler on motorcycles on their tail. Three cops sped through right after. Gun shots rang out as they disappeared behind a building.

“Watch out for vigilantes,” she said. “It’s around the time most start coming out.”

Wesley shook his head. “I can’t imagine having more than one vigilante.”

Gray pointedly cleared her throat.

“I can’t imagine having more than two vigilantes.”

She hummed. “Forget about me again and see what happens.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Athanasia laughed quietly to herself. It wasn’t quiet enough, because he still heard and gave her the stink eye. It was hardly intimidating

Foley hissing made her look into the back seats. He was shaking his left hand, expression a grimace of pain, as he hurriedly passed the vial of liquid Athanasia had taken from the IV to Gray. Gray took it just as fast, twisting the lid back on.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Athanasia asked.

“They were putting that in his system?” The grimace turned into panic when she nodded. “Oh, that’s not good. That is so not good. That has blood blossoms in it.”

“What?!” Gray exclaimed. “That can kill him!”

Athanasia shifted so she sat sideways in the front seat. “What are blood blossoms?” Her eyes flicked to Danny – his chest slowly rose up and down – and then back to Foley.

“They can kill ghosts,” Wesley said gravely.

Foley explained, “They’re a blood red flower, have purple stems – humans can eat them. But for ghosts, they cause extreme pain and make them go powerless. Exposed to enough of it, they die. To people like me and Sam, who aren’t ghosts but have been exposed to ectoplasm for years, it just burns us. Like we touched a hot stove, or something.” He motioned to the vial. “That just felt like bee sting for me, but to Danny? It probably feels like he’s being slowly burned from the inside out.”

“It sounds like they made an oil from blood blossoms and diluted it until it wasn’t so strong,” Gray said.

“Strong enough to render him powerless, but weak enough to not kill him after long exposure,” Athanasia said, and the two of them nodded.

“Sounds like it.”

“That may be why he isn’t healing fast like he should,” Wesley suggested.

Foley cursed again. “This is so not good. We need to get it out of his system, like, yesterday.”

“How do we do that?”

Silence stretched between them.

Athanasia’s brows furrowed, incredulous and frustrated. And scared. “You don’t know?” she demanded.

“It– It’s never been in his bloodstream before!” Foley defended. “He’s only been near the flowers, so we just…moved him away from them. Or them from him. This is… We’ve never dealt with this before!”

“But you should have at least had a contingency plan for this,” she bit back. “Oils from flowers and plants are common!”

“We never thought the GIW would be smart enough for that!”

“Well, you should have!”

“Hey!” Gray shouted over them, “Enough! This isn’t helping Danny. Let’s just get to your dad’s place, yeah?”

Athanasia turned back around without another word. The movement pulled at her injuries, maybe even reopened the wound on her side, but she ignored them as she got out her communicator.

No one spoke for a few seconds.

“The device you are using to block the signals…” she started.

“I already said no,” Foley muttered, tone clipped. “It’s blocking his ecto-signature, too. I’m not risking unblocking it just so you can make a call.”

“You didn’t risk stopping, Ana,” Wesley said before she could respond. “Let us not risk this.”

There was a tightness in her throat that had been building up for the last ten minutes. It kept her from speaking; if she wanted to or even had a response, she couldn’t say it. She worked her jaw, ignoring the stinging in her eyes.

One brother was behind her near death, with a large incision that needed to be stitched. Her other brother was out in the city fighting crime, who knows in what type of danger in the crime capital of America.

She just wanted to know that at least one of them was okay.

It was as they went through another intersection, barely making it through a green light, when she noticed an unmistakable large, black shadow swing from one side of the road to the next.

“Stop the van,” she choked out.

“But–”

“Stop the van!”

Wesley slammed on the breaks. The ones in the back went tumbling, and she heard Manson let out a curse, concentration on the van’s invisibility broken after over two hours.

Athanasia got out of the van as fast as possible. She raced to the other side of the road and climbed skillfully up the fire escape on the side of a building. As she got to the roof, she spotted the figure speaking to another – red and black – in the shadows.

“Batman!”

Both figures turned. She dimly registered that the person Batman had been speaking to was Red Hood.

“Yes? What is it?” Batman questioned as he stepped forward.

Red Hood followed. The way his helmet tilted a little told her he recognized her. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Athanasia made it halfway across the roof before she faltered. Her father was…an imposing man. If she hadn’t grown up in the place she did, she would probably be fearful of him because of it. Instead it just caught her off guard. Seeing him in person, up close, was…

Well. Unexpected.

She blinked and forced herself to stay on track. To not get distracted. She stopped a few or so feet away, wary to get too close. “We need your help,” she started off with. “My…acquaintances and I – we have someone who needs medical attention that only the Batcave will be able to provide for, and I need you to take us there.”

“The Batcave,” he repeated.

“Yes. A regular hospital is out of the question.” Her eyes flickered around the roof. Something wasn’t right. “I would take him there myself but I do not know where it is.”

What wasn’t right?

“I have no idea who you are. You aren’t authorized to go to the Batcave.”

“You would make an exception for us.”

“You sound sure.”

“Because I am. Just help us help him!”

“Who is ‘him’?”

“B, I don’t think it’s time for an interrogation right now,” Red Hood said.

“My…” Athanasia stilled. She knew what wasn’t right. Her entire body tensed. “Where’s Robin?”

Her father’s posture changed. Right; Batman was protective of Robin.

But as his older sister, so was she.

“Out,” he said. “Listen, you’re injured, and I understand you need help but–”

“What do you mean ‘out’? As in patrolling? Out of town? Country? Earth itself?”

Red Hood took a step towards her. “Whoa, kid, relax. It’s okay–”

“Where Robin is isn’t your business–”

Red Hood muttered a curse.

“Not my business?” she seethed. “Knowing where he is, is most definitely my business. I am not asking for dental records – it’s a simple answer to a simple question.”

“I–”

“My twin brother is dying in the backseat of a van, and my little brother is not by our father’s side like I thought he would be, so please just tell me where he is so I know at least one of them will be okay! I–”

“Hey! Hey,” Red Hood interrupted. “Robin is okay! He’s okay, alright? I promise. He twisted his ankle pretty badly the other night and the old man benched him until it’s healed. That’s all. You can breathe, kid.”

“I am.” Barely. It felt like she had been running for hours. She was out of breath; her intake of air had increased in the past few minutes. Her throat was back to being tight, but so was her chest, this time.

“Yes, you are, but your breathing is too fast,” Red Hood said. “You need to slow down–”

“There is no time to slow down!” she shouted. Her feet moved backwards when Red Hood tried to come closer to her. “I had the GPS taking us to the manor, but it’s worse off than we thought, and I would take him to the Batcave if I knew where it was–”

“How many of you are there?”

Athanasia blinked rapidly. Out of surprise, not because she was about to cry. She snapped her eyes back up to her father. “What?”

“You said you had acquaintances with you. How many?” He was doing something on his gauntlet, a hologram-like screen faintly glowing above it. She tried to make out the words backwards but gave up pretty quickly.

“Six in total,” she said. “Myself included. They do not know your identity.”

He hummed. “Are all of you injured?”

“Except for one, my– our getaway driver. Danny is the worst off.”

“Hard to believe, you’re pretty banged up yourself, kid,” Red Hood muttered, with a small motion to her entire body.

“They vivisected him.” The words hadn’t meant to come out, but they did.

Batman and Red Hood stilled.

The latter sucked in a breath of air. “Jesus.”

“The Batmobile is on its way,” her father tensely informed her. He stalked forward, and she was expecting him to walk passed her so she was thoroughly surprised when he stopped in front of her. He raised a hand and her body tensed for another time that night. She didn’t know what she was else expecting, but it wasn’t a comforting hold on her shoulder; it wasn’t a comforting tone and assurance. “Your brother is okay. Your twin is going to be okay.”

Athanasia stared at the hand on her shoulder. It took a second or two to finally tear her gaze from it, and look at her father’s cowl covered face instead.

“I promise.”

+++

The sound of footsteps gradually becoming louder alerted him that someone was about to disrupt his peace.

“Hey, I’m going to bed.”

Peace officially disrupted.

Damian looked up from his sketchbook long enough to spot Duke Thomas poking his head into the living room, before focusing back on the drawing he was working on. “Okay.”

“And Bruce wanted me to remind you to finish your homework if you haven’t already.”

He sighed. “I have.”

“And Alf says no sweets if you have any snacks.”

“Okay,” he said, annoyance seeping through.

“And they both say not to stay up too late or walk too much on your ankle–”

“Leave me be and rest your empty skull on the warm side of your pillow before I stab this pencil through your jugular.”

Thomas snickered. It occurred to him, then, that the older teen had continued on to annoy him on purpose. It worked. That annoyed Damian even more.

“Alright, alright. I’m leaving,” Thomas said through another chuckle. “Goodnight, Damian!” he called as he walked off.

He huffed. “Goodnight.”

Duke Thomas was Father’s newest addition to his ever growing brood. The older boy wasn’t adopted (at least, not yet), only fostered. His parents were still alive – just victims of Joker Venom. They found a cure, although it wasn’t instantaneous, so Elaine and Doug Thomas were slowly healing and recovering with the help of professionals while their son stayed here.

Damian was sort of surprised he was still here. He had an uncle he could go to, and who he did visit often, but he had chose to stay. Not that Damian wanted him to go – he actually didn’t mind Thomas that much anymore. He liked to think they got along well, even if sometimes the atmosphere was awkward, or when they deliberately annoyed one another.

Recently when the two either merely existed in the same room doing nothing, or ventured into the city out of boredom, Drake tagged along. Or was the one to drive them around. It had been tense at first. It was less so, now. Damian truly didn’t know how to feel about it.

He stopped drawing and stared at the page. He erased a few lines that didn’t look right and grabbed his phone, unlocking it to study the reference picture he was using. Just as he was about to put it down, his phone vibrated with a text.

It was from Drake – in the groupchat he made that included himself, Damian, and Duke. Damian tried to leave it multiple times only for Drake to add him back every single time.

drake

hey

evrrhthing ok at the manor??

thomas

yeah

i’m about to go to bed, damian is sketching in the living room & alfred is in the basement

why

is something wrong?

drake

idk but b is heading back

w jason

neither have have said a word they wont answer

thomas

that’s sus

you guys have only been gone for what?? 45 min at least

drake

yea

barbara cant even get ahold of them

hey little d

bat brat

u sure ur ok

Damian rolled his eyes. Drake was almost as bad as Father and Richard when it came to hovering if he got hurt, the buffoon simply showed it differently. He only twisted his ankle; nothing major.

And if his back had been hurting him the past week, nobody had to know.

…Except for Pennyworth and Richard. They knew of the metal in his spine and the damaged nerves, and so he told them when the sharp aches and pains kept coming back.

Alfred insisted it was just a few nerves growing back.

Damian focused back to the groupchat. Drake had resorted to spamming it because he took too long to respond. Obnoxious plebeian.

He took a picture of his legs covered by the blanket he was using. One knee was propped up to angle his sketch book right, while the other was stretched out as his injured ankle rested on a small pillow. Alfred the cat was fast asleep, curled into a circle, on the arm of the couch, while Titus made himself small enough to lay on the couch beside his outstretched leg. He sent the picture with nothing else. Drake stopped his spamming and liked it while Thomas sent another text asking what Damian was drawing.

With that, he put his phone down – only for it to start vibrating repeatedly. A phone call.

He somewhat expected it to be Drake, but still wasn’t that surprised to see it was Father, instead.

“Father?” Damian answered the call. “Drake said you were heading back. With Todd.”

“Yes.” Father’s voice was rough, but in a distinct way that Damian knew it wasn’t his Batman voice. In the background he heard the rumble of the Batmobile. “We are. And we have some company with us.”

His brows lowered. “Is everything okay?”

Silence.

Damian sat up and tucked his foot under his other leg’s thigh. Titus shifted, getting off of the couch to lay on the floor instead. “Father?” Carefully, he closed his sketchbook and set it on the coffee table.

Thomas decided to walk back in, at that moment. “Hey, I…” He trailed off when he saw that Damian was on the phone. “Is that Bruce?”

“Father, is–”

“Do you have an older sister?”

Damian froze. He even stopped breathing for a second. Did he know? If he did, how? Was it Mother, was she in Gotham? Did she tell Father? Athanasia told him not to tell him or anyone else, and he hadn’t. Why was he asking this? Were they okay?

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Cassandra–”

“I’m not talking about by adoption, son,” Father interrupted. “Biologically, do you have a sister? Or even a brother?”

He involuntarily sucked in sharply. If Father heard it, he didn’t make any indication that he did.

“She would be around Tim’s age, seventeen or eighteen. Five foot eight, ten at most. She mentioned a twin brother.”

Damian kept his eyes on Titus. He ignored Thomas stepping further into the living room to stand near the couch. “I’m not supposed to tell you,” he said. “She said not to.”

“Who? Talia?”

“No.”

“Your sister.” Damian stayed quiet. “Why?”

“I don’t– do not…” How was he supposed to answer that? He had no idea why Athanasia told him not to tell Father, but Damian refused to break the promise he made her. Yes, he wanted to tell Father – all the time, so badly – but it was the last thing Athanasia asked of him. Even the idea of breaking that promise felt wrong. Even now, even though he somehow knew. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and hated how childlike he sounded.

“…It’s not your fault, chum. We will be at the Cave soon. If– when,” he corrected, “you come down, put on a mask. They have acquaintances who don’t know our secret identities.”

“Yes, sir. Are they okay?”

Father didn’t immediately respond. It sent warning bells through his mind. “We’re about to be at the cave.”

“Wait, Father–”

The call ended.

Damian let out a huff of frustration. He went to call him back, but stopped.

Athanasia was in Gotham. She went to Father for help. Did that mean she called him on the League communicator and he missed it? Did he? It sounded like she needed help, they both did, and he…

Damian vaulted off of the couch. Thomas shouted after him, but he ignored him and the pain in his ankle as ran through the halls and up the stairs to his room. He took the communicator out from its hiding spot under his mattress.

Nothing. No calls or messages. Not a single thing.

Why did she go to Father and not him?

Damian sent a message. It didn’t go through, just like the past hundreds of times. He tried a call, it did the same thing.

“Damian! Don’t run away like that, man, you’re gonna hurt your ankle more,” Thomas reprimanded as he finally caught up. “I’m sorta responsible for you right now, and I don’t feel like getting Alfred’s disappointed look because you’re running around.”

The words went through one ear and out the other.

He cursed in Arabic and tossed the device onto his bed. He snatched an emergency mask from a drawer of his bedside table, and left the room.

“Damian,” shouted Thomas. “Seriously, dude!”

“If you follow me to the Batcave, put on a mask,” Damian said. “We have guests.”

Whatever his foster brother’s response was, Damian didn’t hear it. He rushed down the stairs, simultaneously putting on his mask, and then ran to the study where the clock was. Standing on his toes, he moved the clock’s hands to the correct time and squeezed through before the secret door opened all the way.

As he got to the bottom of the stairs, he slowed. A cacophony of noise grew as he got further into the cave. He stopped on the last step and just stared.

Whatever he had been expecting, it was not a group of injured teenagers talking over each other to his father and the family’s grandfather of a butler. Todd stood a few feet away from the group, back to Damian. He seemed to be merely watching the scene unfold.

“We’ve taken care of him before, we know how to do stitches!” a girl with short black hair shouted. “This isn’t new to–”

“He’s not– you need to let us help,” a black kid argued. “We know what to do for him–”

“I have already seen it!” And there’s Athanasia. “It is not a pretty sight, I know, but I can help–”

“None of you are in shape to help Penny-One,” Batman tried to speak over them.

“I am!” Another girl. She held a red and black helmet in her arms that matched a vigilante-like suit she wore. “Please, just let us–”

“We’re his friends! Please–”

“We– Well, I don’t but they do – they know what to do,” a red headed boy said. “He’s different, you’ll need their–”

A sharp whistle cut through the air, so sudden even Damian flinched. As did Thomas, who appeared at his side the instant it happened.

Everyone quieted immediately, eyes falling to Jason Todd. The helmet was off, but a red domino still covered his eyes.

“Everyone shut up or else it will be too late for anyone to help anybody,” the young man snapped, “Let Penny-One do what he does on a regular basis. I promise, he knows what he is doing, and has seen his fair share of bad injuries between the eerily large brood he cares for. Even if he did need help, it would not be from any of you. Like Batman said, none of you are the right shape to help – either from exhaustion or injuries or both, each one of you looks like shit. So sit your asses down, let the professional do his job, and take a breather.”

No one said a word. No one moved.

“Thank you, Red Hood,” Pennyworth said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a patient to care for.” He ducked behind a curtain he and Father were guarding. Damian wasn’t able to get a glimpse of the person behind it.

In the back of his mind, he knew who it was. It didn’t dissuade his worry.

Father stared down the teenagers.

The girl with short black hair and gothic clothes glared harshly back at him. Angry, she spun around with a scoff and stomped over to a chair, a palm on her forehead the entire way.

“Sam,” the black boy called after her and followed. They quietly began talking to each other.

The girl in the red and black suit and the redhead boy glanced at each other. The former shrugged helplessly, and the latter frowned in response, looking away.

Damian finally looked – truly looked – at Athanasia. Todd was right: she looked like shit; they all did. But his big sister had the most blood on her, and a green substance on her hands and right side that had a too close resemblance to Lazarus Pit water. She had numerous injuries that were bandaged hastily, but not enough for all of the blood to be hers. It looked as if she tried to scratch some of it off on the few areas of exposed skin, only for it to not work. Her black hair was in a ponytail that had once been neat; now, curly strands were loose and framing her face, and the ponytail itself was unkempt.

The others didn’t look that much better. Except for the redhead. He just looked stressed and exhausted and worried.

Damian shifted a foot forward, then back to its original spot.

He didn’t know what to do. Say her name? Simply walk up? Run back upstairs? He didn’t want to make a scene, but he also wanted to go up to his sister.

He spotted Ace laying down near the bat-computer. Silently, decision abruptly made, he moved in that direction.

Thomas cleared his throat. “Um… B?”

Damian stopped, freezing behind Todd. He looked over to Thomas and glared. The older teen didn’t acknowledge him other than a split second glance.

“D– Signal? What are you doing down here?”

Todd shifted. Damian moved with him. He turned his head slowly and sent Damian a suspicious side eye.

“Oh, uh… Red Robin contacted us – said you were coming back here. I just want to make sure you don’t need any help,” said Thomas.

Todd reached behind him with the hand that wasn’t holding his helmet, and aimed for Damian. He pinched Todd’s wrist when it got close enough, making him hiss in pain.

“We might– Hood?”

Todd shook his hand. “Sorry. Bug bit me.”

Father continued speaking with Thomas, who walked further into the Cave.

“Brat,” Todd hissed under his breath.

Damian didn’t deign him a response. Once it was clear everyone else was distracted, he continued his way to the bat-computer in the shadows. When he got there, he crawled underneath the desk. Ace moved to lay his head in Damian’s lap.

His hiding spot didn’t stay hidden for long, though.

Someone silently walked over. Then, they crouched down and slotted their body next to his under the desk.

“Did Todd tell you where I am?” he asked. It came out more petulant than he intended.

“No. I saw you when you first came down.”

“Tt.” Damian muttered, “…You smell vile.”

Athanasia hummed. “And you are still short.”

There was a shakiness to her voice he didn’t like. It kept him from automatically responding with another insult.

He turned his head to look at her again.

Her eyes were staring at nothing in particular. Her breathing was a bit too fast for comfort, sort of choppy too. Tension lined her entire body.

“Stretch out your legs,” he said quietly.

She eyed him in question. He motioned for her to hurry up. Hesitant, she eventually did it. Then, he wasted no time in ordering Ace to lay on her legs.

Athanasia sucked in sharply. Her hands lifted to her chest. “Dames–”

“You won’t hurt him,” he interrupted. “He won’t hurt you.”

He was aware of why she was so hesitant – almost afraid, even. She tried to hide it from him, but League trainers had forced her to slaughter animals. Those same trainers did that to him a couple times, too, after she left. Apparently it was to make them stronger and better assassins. Less prone to weaknesses.

He wondered if Dányál had to go through that. If Mother knew.

Damian didn’t think she did, but…

Athanasia kept her hands to her chest.

“So, you found him?” Damian asked. He kept his voice low, and scooted closer to her.

She nodded. “Yes. He is… He will be okay,” she said, keeping her voice low like he did. “I apologize for taking so long.”

Damian didn’t know how to respond to that. It made a flicker of anger from in his chest. She was sorry for being gone for so long, but not for leaving?

“…He isn’t a clone?” was his next question.

“No.” Her arm lifted, and for once he let her pull him into her side in a hug. He wasn’t big on touch, and Athanasia wasn’t either, but she was definitely more tactile than he was in some ways. From what he remembered, she and Dányál had hugged a lot.

“Are you positive?” His mind flashed to Heretic. He held back a wince, twisting until his back was into her side and her arm wrapped around his chest. He had to bend his knees so he could fit all the way under the desk.

“Yes.”

“You made sure of it?”

Athanasia stayed quiet for a moment. He felt her eyes on the top of his head. “I did,” she said. “Penny-One is aiding our brother. Not a clone, or a shapeshifter, or anyone else. Dányál.” She paused. “I intended on going to the manor instead. Then, I saw our father, and demanded he take us here.”

“Why the manor?”

“I did not know where the cave was.”

Damian stared at his knees.

There was no way.

Did he hear that right? It was jarring. He grew up thinking his big sister knew everything.

How did she not know this?

“Athanasia,” he whispered.

“What?”

“The Batcave is below the manor,” he told her in Arabic.

For seven seconds (yes, he counted) Athanasia didn’t say anything. Then, “It is what?!” she hissed in a harsh whisper.

Damian felt a laugh coming up, and did his best to keep it quiet. His shoulders still shook. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” she muttered. “Thank you making me feel stupid.”

“My pleasure. I will be sure to do it again.”

She huffed a small, wet laugh. “Brat.” Her arm wrapped around the front of his chest more, and her hand gripped his shoulder. A second later, he felt her place a kiss on the crown of his head.

Damian couldn’t help but grip her arm back. One hand on her forearm, the other on her bicep. He pressed his knees closer to his body.

“I missed you,” he whispered through the lump in his throat.

She sniffled, and whispered back into his hair, “I missed you, too.”

A blanket of silence fell over them. Damian heard Father speaking to the others, his voice overlapping with Thomas’ and one of Athanasia’s acquaintances. Footsteps softly echoed as they all moved about near the medbay. They should probably go over there soon.

Damian didn’t want to. For the first time in four years it was just him and his big sister, hiding under a desk that was reminiscent of them hiding in an alcove back in the League just to spend time together. It hardly felt real. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared this was just some sort of dream.

“Can we stay here for a little bit longer?”

Her arm tightened around him again. “Absolutely.”

+++

It took a good while for someone to come look for them, which surprised Damian, but he was relieved and thankful no one came sooner. He wasn’t about to complain about the silent one-on-one time squished underneath the desk, uncomfortable as it was.

It also gave them time to stop any tears they let loose.

He eventually moved out from under her arm, and sat beside her. It took a bit of time. Damian wanted to say it was because he was done with the physical touch, that he let go. The truth of the matter was that he had to force himself to, to mentally talk himself into doing it. It was irrational, but he was scared that the moment he let go she would leave him again.

That didn’t happen. She didn’t get up and leave, or disappear, or anything of the sort. She stayed right beside him.

As he scratched Ace behind the ears, Athanasia merely watched. She kept her hands away from the dog. When he moved to lay down across both of their laps, she stiffened until he stilled, arms crossed over her stomach.

That was how they were found.

The large boots and bottom of a black cape were unmistakable.

Father crouched down, the half of his face that wasn’t covered by the cowl betraying nothing. It made Damian want to squirm. Was he mad? That he kept Athanasia and Dányál a secret?

“You two weren’t easy to find,” he said. He sounded more like Bruce Wayne than Batman. It was comforting, in a way. “Your friends got worried when they didn’t see you around.”

“Acquaintances,” she corrected. “And I am fine, I have no idea why they would worry.”

Damian gave her an incredulous look. “You’re covered in blood.”

“A lot of it does not belong to me.”

“Mostly yours or not, your injuries still need to be taken care of,” Father said. “The Wes kid said you weren’t able to clean them properly.”

Athanasia’s face did something quick and complicated that Damian couldn’t decipher. Her mouth settled into an annoyed frown before he could really question it. “Of course he did,” she muttered.

“And you, chum, need to get off the ground and prop your ankle up,” Father said. The man, with gentle hands, inspected the aforementioned ankle. “With ice. The swelling is worse again. Did you run on it?”

He didn’t want to lie. He didn’t want to admit he ran, either.

“…Maybe.”

“Hn.” Father stood. The joints of his knees popping and a quiet groan didn’t go unnoticed. “Come on out. Let’s get you both some medical attention. Ace, get up, boy. Up.”

The German Shepherd did as told.

“I didn’t do anything to it,” Damian grumbled as he scooted out and pulled himself to his feet with the help of Father’s hand. Putting weight on his ankle definitely hurt worse than it had before, though…

“It won’t hurt to check.”

Athanasia came out from under the desk next. As she stood, also with the help of Father, he noticed she seemed to be in more pain than when he first entered the cave. That made sense; the adrenaline had to have worn off by now, allowing the pain finally register.

Once she was steady on her feet, she stepped a little away from Father. “Thank you,” she said. “For bringing us here.”

“Of course,” Father said. “If you need to stay here, you can. I will even open up the manor to you and your fr– acquaintances. Whatever aids you the best and keeps you safe from whatever you’re running from.”

She nodded once. Her eyes, glassy with tears, blinked rapidly, and she turned to head to the empty medical cots.

Damian watched her, exhausted and hurting, then looked to the curtain hiding away Pennyworth and Dányál.

He tore his eyes away and hurried to follow.

[witchofhimring]

Alys Rivers headcanons (Part 1)

-Was born the middle eldest child of Ser Lyonel Strong. She has two trueborn younger brothers Harwin and Larys, and two younger sisters. Lyonel hid Alys because she was conceived from an affair with Lyonel Strong's wives chambermaid. Lyonel denied any paternity and pretended Alys did not exist.

-Alys's mother came from the North and settled in the Riverlands as a young woman. She went to work at Harrenhal and became a chambermaid. Her name is Agnes, has black hair and deep green eyes. Alys inherited most of her looks except the nose which is Lyonel's. Agnes on the outside looks to be free-spirited and naïve. Only the former is true. While Agnes is a somewhat innocent woman she is far from stupid. She fell in love with Ser Lyonel and they had an affair. When he found out Agnes was pregnant Lyonel tried to convince her to get to drink Moontea. Agnes refused and so Lyonel promised to provide for the baby but would not acknowledge her.

-Because of this Alys is taught to stand on her own two feet from a young age. Agnes does not want her daughter going down the same path. She teaches Alys cunning and patients. "Give your heart to no one. Let no one see your weaknesses." Alys takes these words to heart. She sees how hard her mother looks and wants more.

-Alys is an odd baby. She hardly cries and is mostly well behaved. Born with thick black hair and bright green eyes there is something unchildlike in her appearance. She does not look like the maidens in songs, yet Alys's charisma and spirit attract many to her. In my mind while Alys is good looking, it is her personality that people find appealing. Alys is also quite tall, standing at 5'11.

-Alys is solitary as a child. There are not many other children and the ones that do live there think her strange. Alys finds she can entertain herself just fine. She will not weep or feel sorry for herself in this regard. Sometimes Ser Lyonel Strong gives her odd looks though she does not know why. The early years are spent working in the kitchens, run by an elderly woman with silver/grey hair (no she is not a Targaryen). Gizelda is strict but develops a grudging affection for the child. Over time the two grow a bond.

-Agnes dies during a fever and Alys is alone. At nine Alys is orphaned and has nowhere to go. Thankfully Alys is allowed to stay on. Grizelda takes full jurisdiction over the girl. Hard working and cunning, Grizelda realized that Alys had what it took. Suddenly Alys finds herself being taught to read and write. Eventually Alys finds out that Grizelda is no ordinary woman. She is a witch and will teach Alys all she knows. Alys finds a new power.

-Two years later Lady Strong dies. This doesn't mean much to Alys who hardly knew her. But Lyonel Stong one day summons her and Alys finds out she is his daughter. While he will still not publicly claim her Alys is provided with necessities. Still, Alys feels left out. Her bothers and sisters are acknowledged but she is left behind. Harwin is quick to show distain for her birth. Larys spares her no more than a glance. Alys develops a sort of apathy (and yet there still is anger) and continues with her life.

-One night, when Alys is fifteen Grizelda disappears into the night. Alys goes looking for her but no such luck. As Alys stands alone in those woods she realizes she is utterly alone. For the first time since her mothers death Alys cries.

-She has no guardian now, but Alys is a woman now. She can sustain herself in the material sense. While isolation is normal at times it wears on her soul. Soon her talents are given over to caring for the few small children in Harrenhal. First it is a little boy they place in her care. At first the work is tedious. But as time wares on Alys finds she comes to love him. It does not last and once the boy is old enough he is taken. Yet they give her more children to look after, and each time they are taken. Try as she might to close her heart, a small sliver of pain enters each time.

-Years pass in quiet. But Alys hears things. Her elder brother has supposedly fathered bastards (like father like son). She wonders if Lyonel is so proud of his sons right now. All her family has left for the Red Keep and Alys hears things. It enrages her than Harwin and Larys are given positions yet here she is. This does not mean Alys is helpless. Over time, without Lyonel there, Alys extends her influence over the servants. Position after position she obtains and sends out certain individuals to do her bidding.

-When Alys hears that Harwin is dismissed from the City Watch she is glad. Less so when she hears that they are coming home. Not wishing to see Lyonel being fatherly to his son Alys keeps her distance. She wishes they would die. Alys gets her wish as she smells smoke. It is only when the dust settles that she finds out what has happened. Her father and brother are dead.

-Her younger brother the new lord of Harrenhal does not stay long. As Alys's two sisters are already married off it leaves another stranger to run the place. As Lyonel is dead the residence of Harrenhal see no reason to treat Alys well. Except for the few children who she has grown affection for Alys is alone. Larys even stops the payments, saying that he would not stoop to fund the daughter of a whore. But Alys is cunning. She smiles and says nothing. Their time will come.

I will make a part 2 at some point I just need to sort out my ideas. Might also write a book about Alys at some point. Alys's story unknown but these are my headcanons so far.

[cloudymistedskies]

"Lily of the valley"

Short Mari(?) fic

I'm not too sure if I could consider this as an angst fic, but it is somewhat snippets of Mari lore so that's one thing!

Mari flutters her eyes open, finding herself in a field full of flowers. She looked around, finding nothing more than the same flower.

Lily of the valley.

"Am I dead...?"

She muttered to herself as she took a step forward, wondering where or what this place is... Feels like the afterlife. She probably died after fighting off the upper moon 1.

But she didn't want that. She promised her sister that she'll make it if she can.

Well...can.

As she roamed around the field, looking for something, her eyes focused on a boy, likely around 10 standing still with his back facing her. Familiarity fills her mind.

"Nii-san..."

She managed to utter out as her feet began to move towards the figure. Mari recently learned from her sister that she had a brother, him being her sister's younger twin. She's not sure what happened to him, but all she knew was that Mari was likely involved in his disappearance.

Mari needed to do two things. Ask for answers, and maybe apologize while at it.

"Nii-san...!"

The young brunette catches up to him, her voice ringing in his ears as he turned to look at her. She could see his appearance more clearly, and he was almost identical to her... Only being a male, and a few inches taller than her. And to what Riko told her, they both had similar personalities.

..It's no wonder her mother couldn't look her in the eye, nor acknowledge her existence at times.

"Mari..."

She heard his voice for the first time in a decade. His green eyes widened as he sees her younger sister in this place. The young girl tried to speak, her mouth moving and trying to utter a word, but nothing came out. Perhaps she was too shock or nervous.

She clutches her chest, taking a deep breath before speaking to him.

"A- ...Am I dead?"

The two siblings looked at each other, the flowers breezing and tickling their legs. Mari hoped that she isn't dead. She can't leave her behind. She knew her sister would be devastated to lose another sibling.

Slowly, the boy shook his head, a soft smile forming in his face.

"You aren't, silly. You'll wake up soon."

A sigh of relief escaped Mari's lips after his answer, smiling back at him.

"Ahhh...! I'm so glad! Nii-chan would be in hysterics if she finds out the news that I died!" She felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. Though, something in her brother's expression changed that didn't go unnoticed by her. His eyes are once again widened with some hint of... sadness or guilt?? His eyebrows furrowed, prompting her to frown once again.

"S-Something wrong? You look a little gloomy."

Hesitantly, he was about to answer, but he realizes that Mari was about to wake up at any given moment, which didn't give him much time. Without a second thought, he pulled her younger sister into a bear hug, eyes shut closed while the latter became more confused.

Her mouth was slightly open. Why is he acting like this??

"Nii-san... Why did you--"

"You don't have much time here, so I just want to say that we both dearly love you. Please live on for us, Mari. Especially for her."

What...? Who's her?

Before Mari could ask further, her vision turned black. She felt lightheaded all of a sudden, and also she felt like she was laying on the ground. Her vision was blurry, but she could tell that she wasn't in the afterlife anymore. She must've woken up.

The young girl felt her body being shaken up by someone, and as her vision clears up, she finds a teary Muichiro, his face contorted to relief after he sees Mari woken up after fainting and staying unconscious for a good few minutes.

Her mind was still filled with what happened before she woke up. Why was her brother like that? What did he mean by her? ...No. This couldn't mean-

"M-Mari... Are you okay?" The boy's voice immediately distracted her from her thoughts, turning to him and nodding slowly.

"What about Yume...? Yui? And the others, too. Are they okay?"

Mari sat up, hissing in pain as the pain in her legs ached. Shortly after, Muichiro’s attention was caught after hearing Sanemi’s wails.

But same cannot be said for Mari.

She’s still thinking about what her brother said and who he meant by ‘her’. Deep down, she truly knew who he meant, but she actively tried to deny it.

‘She didn’t die. She didn’t die. She didn’t die. She didn’t die. She didn’t die.

…She wouldn’t, right?’

Taisho Era Secrets:

Lily of the valleys are symbolized as a return of happiness. It's also Tomoki's (and Riko's) favorite.

Mari barely remembers her brother due to a head trauma that lost most of her memories prior to the incident. Although, the closest she remembered is her sister.

Like what was wrote in the fic, her mother mostly ignored her existence cause she's a huge reminder to Tomoki, and also a reminder that she is apart of the cause of his disappearance and blames her for it. (The father just followed her mom's footsteps...)

Riko was forced to grow up in order to care for Mari's needs since their parents neglected her. They planned to abandon Mari, but Riko threatened to either run away or even kill herself if they ever do that.