#liber is so detailed with their costumes that I can’t even keep up

[everwisp]

anyways, tasuhoma rkgk ✨

[maxwell-grant]

OK, I know this will probably be painful, and I may be a bad mutual for asking but...would you be willing to identify what, in your opinion are the bottom five worst Shadow adaptations, and give a detailed breakdown of why they were so lousy?

Oh christ, okay. I don't think you're gonna get as much of a detailed breakdown for these compared to some of the others, because I take more issue with adaptations that do have good qualities but also big or deep problems to talk about.

For example, I can't include Garth Ennis's Shadow in this list because the comic has a lot of strong points to it, despite a deeply, deeply detestable take on The Shadow's character, where as the rest of the Dynamite run doesn't reach neither the lows or highs of his run. Likewise, Andy Helfer's run has a couple or a couple dozen moments every issue that make me want to tear something to shreds in frustration, but it's also at many points a really good comic with great art and some occasionally very inspired writing. Really, I'd just be repeating myself talking about what I hate in those.

But, fine, let's list some of the others.

I think I'm just gonna have to get the elephant in the room out of the way here, and address that I won't be including Si Spurrier's 2017 Dynamite mini in this list, and I think at least some of you might be angry it's not Number 1 by default. I'm doing this because I intend to one day really revisit it, think about it and it's reception and what it was trying to do, and talk about it on it's own, now that it's been 5 years and everyone has moved on and we can maybe talk about it without kneejerk hatred driving everyone nuts (your mileage may vary on how warranted it was).

I'm also not going to be talking about James Patterson's new novel, because I haven't read it. It seems to be considered a forgettable potboiler by mainstream critics and a resounding failure by everyone who likes the character whether they've read the book or not, and frankly I don't have it in me to learn what the fuzz was about anytime soon, I got my hands way too full as is.

And I won't be including the Batman x Shadow crossovers here, because again, they do have a lot of virtues that put them far ahead of some of the really worst Shadow media, and I've talked enough about how badly I think they mangled The Shadow, which is really the big problem I have with them (well, that and Tim Sale blatantly copying a Michael Kaluta cover, that was really shitty). I don't really hate them anymore, I just get tired and frustrated thinking about parts of them, I said my piece as is. Really, my frustration over this comic is what inspired me to start writing about The Shadow here, so I guess in a way I do owe it at least that much.

5: Archie Comics's Shadow

I think some of you might be wondering why this isn't ranked higher, but to be honest, I don't actually harbor any hatred towards this. I mean, I have to include it, but I find it kinda silly that some people even today actually care about the existence of this comic enough to hate it.

For fans back then? Oh yeah, obviously, but this dropped to such instantaneous backlash that it never really got to live past 6 issues. Really, everything wrong about it can be understood immediately from the covers, and I've actually read the comic in it's entirety to see if there was anything worth taking. I found only a couple of things of note but, no, this really is just a painfully mediocre superhero comic that happens to have a couple of Shadow names in it. If anything, it gets too much credit.

The actual contents of what it is are never going to justify it's reputation, but the existence of it and the disproportionate response to it is the funniest and most enduring legacy it could ever ask for. This whole comic is The Shadow's version of Spongebob's embarassing Christmas photo.

4: David Liss's The Shadow Now

This is another "The Shadow as an immortal in modern times" comic and I think you may have noticed the pattern with those by now. I may revisit this eventually and I do have some moments from it saved for reference, but overall: It sucks, and it doesn't even suck in a way that lets me talk much about it, it's a diet version of Chaykin's Shadow. If Archie's Shadow is a generic mediocre superhero comic wearing The Shadow's name, this is a generic crime story playing beats from movie. The Shadow is an asshole and not even a grandiose or sinister one, he just feels like a sleazy douche in a costume. The art is a 50/50 coin toss between appropriately moody and "Google images with a filter on them", I don't remember anything about the plot other than Khan had a bomb again and he had a daughter, and there were new versions of the agents and the Harry stand-in turned evil and Lamont shacked up with Margo's descendant which, uh, no. I don't really hate this but I really have nothing nice to say about this comic other than Colton Worley's art is nice sometimes. I can't really muster anything else to say here.

3: Invisible Avenger

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZ...

...uuh, wha-

Yeah, I remember nothing about this one other than it's painfully boring and nothing about it, nothing at all, works in the slightest and I drift off to sleep even now trying to give this a rewatch. To be honest pretty much every other Shadow serial not starred by Victor Jory sucks and I don't really have anything to say about them, this one is just the worst of the lot. I dearly wish there was a good Shadow tv series but, if it was going to be like this pilot? Good riddance.

2: Harlan Ellison's The New York Review of Bird

This isn't really a Shadow story as much as it's a Harlan Ellison story that happens to feature The Shadow, but man am I glad that Ellison's "Dragon Shadows" was canned, because holy shit what a goddamn nightmare Harlan Ellison writing The Shadow for real could have been, going purely by the one time he ever touched the character. New York Review of Bird is a purely farcical parody story that wears real, real thin even before "Uncle Kent" shows up, and we get to see in it what is by far the most detestable and irredeemable take on The Shadow ever put on print, and not even in a critique or deconstructive way or anything that could be remotely worth discussing.

I don't hold any particular affection for Harlan Ellison and his writing (despite liking some of it) and I've come to notice the major red flag that is finding someone who looks up to Harlan Ellison in any capacity as a person, and this story in particular really feels like Ellison aggressively trying to channel his jackass tendencies through every line, just him being nasty because he built a personal brand on being nasty. The only reason this isn't Number One is because it's a very short story that saw zero influence or reputation, and thus it only exists as a brief mention in The Shadow wiki, and a brief mention is all it really calls for.

1: Howard Chaykin's Blood & Judgment

I'm guessing most of you already knew this one was in the top spot before I started writing.

I would actually rather not write a big piece on Blood & Judgment, because I think (or at least I hope) it's influence on The Shadow has waned a lot over the years and I would prefer to draw it the least amount of attention possible, but if I HAVE to talk about this, I guess I'd rather just vomit this out of my circuits now instead of giving it it's own post.

I would prefer to use a less unpleasant image on my blog, but if I'm going to talk about this comic, there's no image to better convey it than this drawing of macho asshole Cranston holding a sexualized mannequin at gunpoint. By leaps and bounds, Blood & Judgment is the most misogynistic Shadow story I've ever read. It's ironic that Chaykin justified the rampant misogyny he gave The Shadow with the idea that this is just a man from the 30s would act like, when he admits in the same breath that he never even touched the stories, and he wrote a story more sexist and demeaning to it's female characters than anything, literally anything, written in the Shadow pulps. It's almost impressive even.

I'll paste some segments from Randy Raynaldo's review

In Flagg, he intended to present his own point of view on American society while keeping his work tongue in cheek and acessible. But this vision dimmed, and Flagg had become a vehicle by which Chaykin could play out fetishes and portray gratuitous and stylish violence.

In The Shadow, stripped of the political and social veneer which was supposed to make Flagg unique, Chaykin's sensibilities and excesses become disturbingly apparent. For all of his liberal posturing, Chaykin's work demonstrates zero difference from the same kind of mentality exploited and made popular by similarly violent popular culture icons like Dirty Harry and Death Wish.

More than half a dozen individuals are indiscriminately and violently murdered in the first issue. Although the victims are characters who played major roles in the myth of The Shadow, we feel little sympathy for them, even for those of us who knew these characters at the outset. Who dies is unimportant, it's how they die that is the fascination.

Chaykin uses sexual decadence as a means by which to establish villains, and undercuts this device by making the protagonists as promiscuous as the villains. For all of Chaykin's seemingly liberal leanings, he demonstrates very little sensitivity in his portrayal of women.

Because everything works on rules of three, this comic also follows the pattern with other works mentioned here, as this isn't Howard Chaykin writing The Shadow: it's The Shadow reimagined as a Howard Chaykin character. He looks and acts exactly like Reuben Flagg and the typical macho protagonist of Chaykin's other works, he's a cynical sleaze with an entirely new origin who half-assedly dons a garb to machine gun people, and I already wrote a separate piece on why the machineguns are kind of emblematic of everything wrong with this take.

I understand that Chaykin has, or used to have, a big following of sorts, and I've tried to wrap my head around this for years, but I genuinely still don't get why Shadow fans stomach this comic unless they happen to be Chaykin fans first and foremost, I really don't. Everything, fucking everything Shadow fans hate about modern depictions of the character can be traced right back to this. The parts that stuck and changed the character for the worse, like him being defined as an immortal, bloodthirsty warmonger who got all his skills and powers from a magic city in Tibet, or Lamont Cranston being a coward who fears and hates the Shadow, or his agents being expendable slaves, stuff that has been ingrained into the mythos through this and the Alec Baldwin movie and other comics, to the point that people now think of it as the norm, that it's the baseline of what The Shadow is, and I hate it, I genuinely fucking hate it,

I hate it so much that it's a big part of the reason why I created this blog and why I want so badly to get to write The Shadow, because I plainly couldn't stand not having ways to tell people that this is all wrong, that this is actively shooting down the character's odds for success, and that they are missing out on something really great, because the well has been tainted with garbage that won't go away and everytime I read the words Shambala in a Shadow comic, even an otherwise good or great one, I get just a wee bit cross.

The only semi-redeeming aspects I can think of for this comic is one or two cool moments, like when The Shadow hijacks a concert using his Devil's Whisper or when he tames dogs with a stare. Just breadcrumbs of "not garbage" amidst an ocean of anything but. I hate that talking about why I hate this comic in-length can almost feel like I'm still enticing people to check it out of curiosity, but if you wanna do that, fine, just know this: The worst part of Blood & Judgment, even if you don't care at all about what it did to The Shadow, is that it's boring.

It is a deeply boring comic. If you like Howard Chaykin to begin with, you'll probably like this okay (although even Chaykin fans told me that this is his weakest work and that even he seems to agree). If you don't, I plain don't see what you could get out of this.

The comic itself is just nothing. It's the comic book equivalent of a pre-schooler trying to get a reaction by swearing. It has nothing whatsoever other than half-assed attempts at shock value. The plot isn't there, the ideas are stale, the dialogue is needlessly oblique and comprised entirely of unfinished sentences, interrupted conversations and one-liners without build-up. The characters are all unlikable and uninteresting stooges with no personality, or joyless cartoons. There's no heart or emotion or logic, and it isn't even funny enough to succeed as just an outrageous exercise in 80s excess. There's nothing in here.

I get "why" it was popular enough at the time, a rising star creator penning a modern revival of an old character based on controversy that pissed off the old fans, it's an old story that still gets repeated today. But manufactured controversy is not a replacement for storytelling and it rarely ever exists to benefit the people who actually want to enjoy the stories, it only benefits those for the crude benefit of those who want to sell you something out of the controversy.

I guess they got their money's worth back then.

------------------------------------------------

Phew, okay, I did it, I finally vomited out a piece on Blood & Judgment and some others, allright, let's put this piece of negativity behind us now.

[fellulahh]

Since that one anon now I can totally picture Diavolo as Superman and MC as Lois Lane. Or maybe even Diavolo as Superman, MC as Wonder Woman, and Lucifer as Batman 😂😂

Just because I love dressing up, I’m going to turn this into HCs!🤣

MC dresses up as Wonder Woman for Halloween

Lucifer:

- if it weren’t for the fact that Lucifer was Diavolo’s right hand man and that the Prince was hosting the Halloween party, there’s no way he would have wanted to leave the house after seeing MC wearing that

- he’d want to lick his lips and tut to her, “my bedroom. now.”

- but of course they have to attend because of Diavolo.

- Lucifer can’t keep his eyes off MC, he’s smirking the ENTIRE night

- when they finally arrive home and they make their way up to the bedroom for a more intimate moment, Lucifer orders MC to keep her outfit on while he fucks her

Mammon:

- “THAT’S MY FUCKIN’ WOMAN!” He grins from ear to ear as MC walks down the stairs in her outfit. Mammon is her biggest fan - he rushes to her side and gives her a cheeky kiss as soon as she reaches the bottom

- Mammon’s basically panting, he’s 100% putty in MC’s hands. She could ask him to do anything in that moment and he’d submit

- he can’t stop looking at her body. How on earth could he be so lucky to call MC his girlfriend?!

- his high spirits are easily ruined though when one of the other brothers compliment her appearance

- he basically snaps and tells them to keep their “eyes to themselves!”

- when he finds out her outfits comes with a lasso (or as he sees it, a whip), he gets super excited

Levi:

- forget TSL, Wonder Woman is now his favourite franchise

- his head practically explodes when he sees MC in her outfit for the first time, he effectively fan girls over her. His eyes are bulging out of his skull and he’s unable to utter any words because he’s too busy gawking at her. He forgets for a moment that MC’s his girlfriend and not some anime character he’s fantasising over

- for a split moment - with the way he is treating her like a goddess - MC actually feels like the real Wonder Woman

- he gets all flustered and excited because he is the one escorting MC to the party! It’s a rare evening where he’s not the one feeling envious - it’s everybody else

Satan:

- there’s no way MC can think she can get away with wearing such an empowering outfit without getting lots of attention from Satan

- MC would actually be the one melting under his affections - he’d spend most of the night whispering sweet seductions in her ear; all about how alluring she is

- he loves seeing how liberated MC is, she’s never seemed so confident until she’s dressed as her favourite fictional character. Satan admires her a lot for it

- when he finds out the costume is rented, he offers to outright buy it because there’s no way he was willing for her to return it

- MC dressed as Wonder Woman does things to him

Asmo:

- yes yes YES

- Asmo absolutely LOVES seeing MC in this outfit. He’s in love with every single detail and tells her straight to her face “I don’t know who Wonder Woman is but she’d be QUAKING if she saw you right now”

- his hands are all over MC for the rest of the night; not that she minds. He’s never felt lust so strong in his life before

- he gets incredibly excited by her costume and insists that next time they dress up, they do a couples costume together!

- you can bet his Devilgram is FULL of pictures of MC that night, showing off what a goddess of a girlfriend he has

Beel:

- Oop! Beel’s blushing. He has a hard time containing his excitement; in some ways he actually gets a little flustered

- even though he’s this huge, strong demon, seeing MC in her outfit looking nothing but powerful leaves him feeling weak at the knees

- he has no problem with how revealing her costume is, however he does worry that other demons will be staring at her hungrily throughout the night so Beel’s always around to keep a close eye on anybody

- he’s happy to be the one to escort the goddess of a human around the Halloween party

- when they return home and start kissing in bed she says ‘wait let me take this off’ and he casually continues kissing her and mumbles “no.”

Belphie:

- he feels a mixture of emotions when he first sees MC. At first he’s like ‘oh wow’ as he admires how amazing she looks but then after realising all of the other brothers stare too he gets a little anxious

- Belphie doesn’t want MC to know they he feels nervous so he doesn’t say anything, he just makes sure to always be around her

- but when he’s not worrying, he’s just gawping at her completely mesmerised. He’ll have a small smile on his face

- he has an incredibly hard time hiding his excitement. How was he supposed to compose himself when MC’s there looking like that?

[thepigeonsopinion]

So…

As I said, after my theory and salt rant on the spoilers and trailers for the episode “Crocoduel” (link down below)

I would probably say my thoughts on the episode after I was done watching the episode itself. So, here I am. :)

Also, I’m on a road trip with my family and some family friends, so I watched the episode and typed this up late (or early) night (or morning) so…:p

Anyways! Before I start saying my thoughts on the episode, let’s do a summary or a synopsis of the episode.

Warning: Spoilers for “Crocoduel”

The episode starts during Kitty Section Rehearsal. Everyone is having fun, while Kitty Section is playing. When Kitty Section finished their set and everyone was praising them Luka all of sudden mentions that Marinette hasn’t been to rehearsals in a while, which leads Luka to think that she’s avoiding him, which also leads to him starting to get depressed. Everyone tries to reassure him that she isn’t avoiding him, she’s just really busy (mainly Rose). It doesn’t work and Luka gets more depressed and leaves the group. The group then tries to make a plan to help Luka and Marinette by exploiting the twins b-day.They ask Juleka if she approves of the plan and she nods. Juleka then tells Luka about the party that they’re having on the boat. Luka gets excited to see Marinette and everyone at the party. After, Marinette finds about the party on the Liberty she’s able to piece together the groups plan and ask Juleka if she can somehow find a way for Luka not to be there at the party. Juleka tries to tell or ask Luka if he can’t attend the party, but she doesn’t have the heart to tell him. Then, all of sudden Jagged comes the through the porthole of the twins room. Jagged gives Luka the attention while Juleka is in the corner. Anarka burst into room to tell Jagged he is not allowed on the boat, which results in Jagged being invited to the twins b-day party. On the day of the party, while everyone is going down to the Liberty, Juleka starts to feel anxious about not being able to comply to everyone’s wishes. When Marinette goes to thank Juleka she sees Luka and starts to panic and leaves below deck. Luka takes this as a sign she doesn’t want to be his friend anymore and starts feeling depressed, which almost causes his akumatization Luckily, everyone is there to reassure and comfort him. Meanwhile, with Juleka and Marinette, Marinette asks her why Juleka wasn’t able to not invite Luka, which Juleka starts to feel guilty about it which almost causes her akumatization, but Marinette is there to comfort her. Cue, Jagged coming aboard the Liberty and greets Luka. They go downstairs so Jagged can give his present to Luka. Juleka starts to feel left out and Marinette calls him out. Jagged explain to them that it was a misunderstanding and tells them that the gift was for Juleka and the gift Luka gets is an old record of Jagged and Anarka’s is old music. Anarka sees this and tells him not give Luka that because it’s the reason they fell apart. Jagged disagrees with Anarka and they get into argument, which results in both of them being akumatized. Everyone evacuates the boat and watches the two akumas. The akumas instead of putting an onslaught on Paris they fight each other in a battle. But, when Ladybug appears and intervenes they both go after her. Meanwhile, Adrien is getting ready for a photoshoot (i assume idrk and idrc :)) and sees the commotion and transforms into Chat Noir. (ok guys yk the drill) Ladybug and Chat Noir fight against the akumas, then Ladybug has to use Lucky Charm. The charm leads her to get Juleka and give her the tiger miraculous, which debuts the super heroine Tigress Pourpre (or purple tiger as it said in the english sub :)). Meanwhile, the akumas bring their fight up to the sky and have a stare down before the two super heroines intervene. They get the akumatized object. Tigress uses her power “Collision” (which i still don’t know what it does other than it sends a power full force or punch). They capture the akuma and Ladybug does her Miraculous Ladybug and everything returns as the way it was before the akuma attack. Jagged and Anarka start arguing again until Juleka finally stands up and yells at them to talk instead of argue. They two are shocked, but comply and they make up. The party continues, Jagged and Juleka have their little moment, and Marinette and Luka have a talk about how Marinette avoiding Luka made him feel, which ends on them agreeing to be friends. End of episode.

Wow! That was a long, detailed, and unnecessary summary, but, oh well it’s too late now. :p

Now onto my thoughts on this whole episode :)

So, let’s start off from the beginning. I liked how the costumes were the exact same as the “Silencer” episode, EXACTLY the same :) (you can tell i’m being sarcastic) But, in all seriousness I wish the outfits were a bit different, but I get it, I still like the original costumes though. Luka being sad about Marinette really struck a sad chord in my heart (because I have a soft spot for Luka). And when Rose tried to cheer up Luka by saying she was just busy with water ponies and all that, some might find that stuff endearing and funny, but tbh I found that kinda unnecessary. Not to mention, the way Rose described Marinette’s favorite “water pony” “Pom Pony” it suspiciously sounded a lot like Adrien Freaking Sunshine Agreste. I mean “has a gold mane. that is just so good to brush! But he is super sensible” doesn’t that ring a bell of some kind, it’s kinda obvious with the gold mane, but then again I might be looking to far into that. Anyway, moving forward, I know Juleka is kinda like the outcast or the seventh wheel of the group, but like come on! It was clear that she didn’t think that the plan was great idea, but she just didn’t have the courage to say anything. Like, can’t anyone see that she seems uncomfortable. But, I guess that was a bit redeemed when they gave us a cute julerose moment. Moving forward, to when Alya was talking to Marinette, so the scene itself wasn’t that bad, but when Marinette went up and said and I quote “But…it’s going to be so weird! You know that Luka loves me and I love Adrien! And every time we see each other. he gets hurt because he knows I will never feel the same!”, “You know that Luka loves me and I love Adrien!” “I LoVe AdRiEN!?”. I swear to everything that is keeping me sane if I hear Marinette mention how much she LoVeS AdRiEn and how much she wishes he would notice her I’m going to lose it. I mean, all crushes are valid, but come on! Do we a need a reminder EVERY FREAKING EPISODE! Also, where are the Adrien pictures I swear they were there before, but idk. Also, for once I agree with Alya, she can’t keep avoiding Luka I mean look at this sad boy…

I don’t wanna see this boy frown I wanna see this boy happy and play happy chords on his guitar not sad ones :( Anyway, more into the episode, I feel so bad for Juleka. She really was everyone’s scapegoat this episode. Not to mention, how she felt left out and guilty at the same time. For one, not being as acknowledged as one should be on their b-day on both her family and friends. And then she also felt guilty for not complying to Marinette’s request and feeling bad if she did comply to Marinette’s request. Moving along with the episode, I know that Jagged being Luka and Juleka’s dad is a big “shocker” but come on Marinette you knew that Jagged was Luka’s dad you were there! It so easy to piece together that he’s also Juleka’s father too because, well they’re twins! But, I digress. Speaking of twins, everyone is aware that Luka and Juleka are twins, but (and yes I am bringing this back up) in the synopsis they only say “Juleka’s Birthday”, I would’ve played it off if no one knew that they were twins and it was supposed to be a big reveal where everyone found they were twins (even if Astruc spoiled it already) but no, everyone was aware that they were twins, so I don’t see why it they couldn’t have just added his name in or said the Twin’s Birthday. But, okay I guess they’re just lazy. So, where was I? Oh, right! So,Marinette goes below deck and Juleka follows and in which results in Marinette comforting her. And I feel like that this is the reassurance that Juleka needed, to know that everything was going to be ok because when you look at her face in that scene all her negative thoughts leave her and she feels liberated of some sorts. Fast forward to when the parents get akumatized, three words Couffaine Family Drama and that’s it, that’s legit all I got on that. Anyways! Onto when Ladybug intervened in the akuma fight, I still don’t get why they had to include the scene of Adrien getting ready for something, I kinda think that scene was a bit unnecessary. Like, even if that scene wasn’t included in the final cut of the episode I would’ve been fine, but okay we’ll just deal with the scene. Not to mention, they had to make Chat Noir appear right after Ladybug get hits by the canon ball, some people say coincidence, I say convenient. Now, let’s talk about the lady of the hour, the new super heroine, Tigress Pourpe! I LOVE HER! and I’m not joking. Even when Juleka met Roar, her kwami, I was like “YES!” because Roar actually is the one that helps Juleka get her confidence to help her in suit and out. Not to mention, the relationship between the two is really cute. Even, Juleka’s suit is beautiful and very detailed and you can see the confidence that the Juleka has in the suit. And I AM HERE FOR IT! I also love that Juleka’s super heroine identity is apart of her overall character arc because of how you can see that Juleka standing up to her parents is the first step for her to be able to overcome her anxieties and become more confident in herself. Also, the Jagged and Juleka moment was so cute. I kinda underestimated Jagged as father figure. You can really see that he is trying his best to spend time and provide for his kids and I love it. Now onto the final scene, first of all, I am so relieved that Luka didn’t say “You and Adrien are meant to be” because I swear if he did I would’ve been dead on the floor. Second of all, I freaking melted when Luka said “it hurt more not to see you”. You can tell how much Luka loves and cares about Marinette when he only needs to be her friend to be satisfied, he doesn’t have to be in a serious relationship with her he just needs to be her friend and be able to see her. Luka deserves so much more than what the show has given him.

And with that my rant and review on the episode “Crocoduel” is finished.

I know I probably left some things out, but if I have an epiphany I’ll probably just post it later. Now that this is finished I’ll probably also do a rant or review on the episode “Wishmaker” because I’m very hyped to see it and I know I’ll have a lot to say about it.

And with that I hope everyone has a great rest of their day (or night)! :)

And always remember…

But that’s just my opinion (・ε・)

[baldwin-montclair]

The Unlikely Advocate

Roman Holiday Concluded

After bringing her to his home island of Ischia - off the coast of Naples - Baldwin introduces her to the customs of the island, as well as continuing their game of control.

Surprising confessions ensue.

FIRST PART

Tags: @adowbaldwin @butternuggets-blog @sylverdeclermont @lady-lazarus-declermont @ordinarymom1 @thereadersmuse @marirable @pleasereadmeok

“Bella!” The elderly matron appraised the work of her ‘priestesses’.

Clad in a white, very light and gauzy fabric chiton pinched in by ribbons, with her hair up in flowers, Eileen barely recognised herself. It seemed like a waste to get so dressed up to stain with the grape juice.

“Liber Pater will be pleased.”

“Baldwin?”

The three young women overseeing her transformation giggled.

“Our patron,” the Priestess explained “the Free Father. He has guarded us for centuries yet has never changed. We tend the fruits he grants us.”

“You think he’s a god?”

“No Senora,” the woman chuckled, “the gods do not answer prayers but he does. When we need him, he has always protected us.”

“I’ve found that,” Eileen smiled, remembering each time he’d come to her aid, “thank you for inviting me to be part of the celebrations?”

“He did not tell you?”

The women exchanged amused glances.

“It is the festival of Proserpina, consort to Liber, we’ve never had one before.”

“A Festival?”

“A Proserpina.”

“Wait, I’m not Baldwin’s consort, I’m just...” she stopped, unsure how to even continue, “this is technically our first date, if it’s even that!”

She wondered for the first time what was actually happening between them.

Friends didn’t seem sufficient, roommates might be closer since she’d been staying in his home for a few days. Roommates with benefits would require them actually being intimate, which is what she’d thought he was suggesting before spiriting her away to his Italian villa.

“I manage an international consortium of wine suppliers and buyers,” the Priestess nodded to the girls, “those are my granddaughters, they are going to Padua University in the fall, we live in the modern world like you. These are traditions we keep because they bring us together, and they are fun. We know what dating is, and the fact that you are our first and only Proserpina should tell you this is not that.”

“So,” Eileen started after a moment of stunned silence, “what is my part in the ceremony?”

“You and your maidens tread the first grapes of the harvest. In your absence they would perform this ritual as your proxies.”

“I’m guessing it’s quite messy?”

“Oh yes it is,” she smiled, “at the end, you will be quite covered. But we have cleaning facilities nearby.”

“High priestess,” Baldwin called from outside the tent, “if I may speak with the lady?”

“Of course pater,” she ushered the excited girls out the other side of the tent “she is ready”.

Eileen felt his gaze wash over her, cool and careful as she continued to look in the mirror.

“See something you like?” She asked.

“What I see is a vision of Venus herself!”

“Not Venus, Proserpina, consort of Liber who is, apparently, you.”

“It’s ceremonial, these are sensible people, they know I’m not really a God.”

“But your consort?” She challenged, catching his eye in the mirror reflection.

The grin held a glint of wolffish amusement as he approached her.

“I thought I would have more time to explain,”

his touch was light over the fabric on her shoulder but the coolness still imprinted on her climate warmed skin, “but our dear matron is much more strict with timing than any that have come before.”

“Explain what?” She asked with a dreamy sigh as he moved his hands to her waist.

“I was born here, the first time, I mean. We were wealthy, maintained the vineyard. I come here on this day every year, it just so happened to coincide with you, being here, with me. Is that fate or coincidence?” He pondered.

“It’s verging on a fairytale is what it is,” she shook her head, “a beautiful meal, two costume changes, a villa on an Italian island AND the opportunity to take part in a centuries old festival. What’s next? Are you planning on stealing the Crown Jewels for me?”

“Those trinkets,” he rolled his eyes, “I could show you stones of such size and rarity that they would destroy the global economy if they were to leave my vault.”

“Is that what you have planned for our next date?”

“Date,” he frowned, “you believe this is a mere date?”

“Honestly, I have no idea, it definitely does not fit the usual definition of ‘let’s go for a meal and awkwardly get to know each other’, but my frame of reference is kinda narrow.”

“Alright, let’s simplify it,” he framed her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, causing her to sigh in contentment, “as per our agreement, you put control in my hands until sunrise, call that our date if you wish.”

“And then?”

“And then, tomorrow, we’ll discuss my plans going forward.”

“Your plans?”

“Yes,” he answered with a bemused look, “that apartment is not safe. You’ll both move into the most secure floor in my building.”

“I can’t,” she choked, “I work from my home office, it’s where I meet my clients.”

“It’s a simple enough matter to redirect correspondence to your new address, and there is office space in the building, away from the living quarters. You can see your clients there.”

“Baldwin, I-“

“It will be your own apartment and I would only cross the threshold if invited to do so.”

“What, like a vampire?” She grinned.

“No, like someone with manners and a healthy grasp of social boundaries.” He retorted.

“Senora,” the woman called, “you are needed.”

“We can discuss the details later, you have a ceremonial duty to perform as my consort.” He teased, leaving the tent and her to her thoughts.

Move into his building? It was too much, too soon under normal circumstances but this was not normal circumstances. She had to consider what was best for Isobel, and the apartment was not safe.

The considerations could be decided later, for that night she was going to have fun, drink wine and not let the spectre of her family ruin her good time.

As it turned out, getting messy and sticky whilst stamping many grapes directly to hell was a much more cathartic and euphoric experience than several rounds with a punching bag.

Luckily there were showers set up to remove the grape entrails, otherwise the rest of the night would be more uncomfortable than it was already likely to be.

Wine.

A simple solution to a complex problem, a nice warm buzz was the goal and she interspersed the wine with water.

Dancing.

The energy of the towns inhabitants was infectious and just as intoxicating as the alcohol. She learned several dances, all the while aware of his Baldwin’s watching over her intermittently as he spent much of the evening on his cellphone.

An attractive, blonde South African male spent some time talking to her, and, being polite, she indulged him in conversation. This abruptly stopped when he placed a hand on her arm in a manner apparently too familiar for the sensibilities of the vampire watching over her, judging by the ice cold focus of his gaze on the site of contact.

The man’s eyes flickered off to the side and he retrieved his hand quickly, excusing himself.

Upon turning, Eileen found Baldwin standing a few feet away, glass in hand.

The festivities showed no sign of abating and after several more dances, Eileen scanned the celebrations for Baldwin but with no immediate success she determined that he would find her, and, enchanted by the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the sand, she followed the shoreline to where it was quieter.

With not another person in sight, she leant against the large, heavy stones making up the beginning of a cave system and removed her shoes.

She wiggled her toes into the warm sand and sighed, then smiled a little at a whimsical desire. Deciding to follow through, she waded ankle deep into the tide and closed her eyes, completely lost in the sensation of peace.

That’s when she felt the focused chill of a vampire’s gaze quicken her pulse.

“Who was he?” Baldwin asked with a silken tone, a few feet behind her.

“No idea,” she turned to look at Baldwin.

There was something different about him and it took her a few seconds to realise he wasn’t wearing his tie, surprising as he didn’t seem like the type who relaxed. But, there he was, leaning against the large heavy rock she had just been using to remove her shoes.

“I was just being friendly.” She shrugged and received no answer.

“You’re not angry because I spoke with him?” She stepped towards him.

He didn’t answer but the look he was giving warned her not to push further.

“Oh you are!” She purred, placing her hands on his broad chest and tiptoed her fingers up to his shoulders playfully.

It was a childish impulse but she felt a tinge of satisfaction from his show of possessiveness.

“Don’t-“

“Don’t what?” She prodded, letting her fingers lace together on the nape of his neck.

“Don’t test me!” He stood completely still, but the evenness of his tone suggested his stature was closer to that of a coiled snake than a prey animal caught in headlights.

“Alright, I won’t,” she turned away from him to look out at the water, “I suppose I could catch up with him, Charlie. He’s handsome, right? Athletic, strong. Probably has quite high stamina.”

“That’s enough!” He warned in a low growl, simultaneously setting off every self-preserving alarm and, perversely, every ‘make-him-snap’ impulse.

“Well obviously it’s not my first choice but since I think you’ve tired of me already, a girl has needs!”

“Be very careful about your next words little witch!”

“You don’t agree with my choice,” she teased, “you can’t just picture him helping me out of this dress, taking me to his bed,” she glanced back for emphasis but found his expression impassive, unreadable, “or maybe he’d want me on my knees first.”

He approached slowly, quietly, and gently placed his hands on her arms before lightly trailing his fingers down.

Surprised by his gentle treatment, given her challenge, she hesitated, ready to apologise for her behaviour.

The tightening grip when he reached her elbows made the words catch in her throat

Suddenly, she was pulled tightly against him, the broad wall of his chest proving an impenetrable barrier against her back as her wrists were captured in one of his hands. The other clasped her throat, instantly making her freeze.

“You are a Percy,” he lightly brushed his lips over her jaw, “that means you have been well warned on the danger of stoking vampire jealousy. Would that be accurate?”

She took a breath to answer but he tsk-ed her with a shake of his head, tightening his grip

“Not a word, just nod if my assessment is accurate.”

She complied.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “I think that pretty little mouth of yours has gotten you into quite enough trouble.”

Her wrists were under his control but her fingers still had agency enough to seek out the front of his pants, lightly running her fingertips across his growing erection, making him groan quietly.

“Not yet.” She again picked up the challenge.

He was just as aroused by providing the rough treat as she was receiving it.

“You play a dangerous game little witch,” he rasped menacingly, releasing her throat momentarily to bind her wrists together with what felt to her like silk.

His tie.

Unable to move enough to touch him and with both of his hands free to do what he willed, she was in the game now.

“I assumed there would be consequences for my disrespect-“

She was cut off by a low chuckle.

“You do not decide what happens this evening, I do,” he warned, “did you think you could provoke me to anger so easily?”

“It’s like you said,” she stammered, not as sure as before, “vampire jealousy.”

“You noticed that I removed my tie before your little piece of theatre, there’s nothing you could have done to cause or prevent this.”

His hands moved to her shoulders and he gently slid the thin straps of her dress down her arm.

“Baldwin,” she protested sharply upon feeling the cool night air brush against her bare breasts, “someone might see!”

He snaked his arm around her waist, holding her tightly to him as he gently nipped at the side of her neck.

The sensation of being trapped was doing interesting things to her body and she willingly leant against him for support, softening into his control.

“There’s no-one even remotely near us,” he reached up with the hand not holding her to him to her chest, letting his index finger circle around the hardening bud of her nipple, “vampire senses come in very handy.”

“There’s no way you can hear,” she gasped at the delicious contact, “the music, the waves.”

“I can hear well enough,” he gave a gentle squeeze at her breast before placing the palm of his hand over her heart, the family signet ring on his pinkie finger somehow colder than him, “but if you’re worried about me being distracted, those are not the main contenders.”

“My heartbeat?”

“Obviously, I’m sure even you can feel it, but even that is a secondary rival for my attention.”

She didn’t reply, not verbally anyway. His words had an effect on her and like she feared he knew, they caused her to press her thighs together, an imperceptible amount to anyone else, but enough to cause him to huff slightly in satisfaction.

“Am I to guess?” She snapped, receiving a sharper nip at the side of her neck.

There was something deeply wrong with her danger senses, she feared, given the fact that she was not only putting her veins on display for a vampire, but that she was deriving pleasure from the activity.

Her trust was rewarded when he put his hand in hers, still tied behind her back.

“It is clear to me that your needs run more extreme than I thought,” his tone was gentle, calm and warm, “just know that if we continue and you push me, I will retaliate but no harder than the nip I just gave you. If you understand and accept then squeeze my hand once, if it goes too far then squeeze twice and we end the game here.”

She squeezed once and he removed his hand from her grasp to wrap it lightly around her throat. From there, he tipped her face up to look over her shoulder at him and captured her lips in a crushing kiss.

She melted against him, the kiss lighting her on fire whilst soothing something wild and afraid within.

She hadn’t even realised that he had undone the fasteners on the back of her dress until the meagre weight of the garment settled on her hips.

From the waist up, she was bare to him, the skirts of the dress still provided some modesty.

With the hand not curved around her throat, he trailed his fingers down her sternum and navel to slip suggestively into the gap between her dress and underwear.

“Good behaviour is rewarded,” he told her between kisses, “do you want to be good for me?”

She nodded, straining for him to kiss her more.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Touch me!”

He smiled a little, hand tightening around her throat as if in response.

“I already am,” he teased, brushing his lips so close to hers but still just out of her reach, “so I must assume...”

Baldwin’s fingers travelled back up towards her navel and she fidgeted in his grasp.

“Be still!” He warned and she somehow managed to contain her movements.

“Aren’t you well behaved!” He taunted before slipping his hand inside her panties, causing her to gasp at the sensation of his cool skin against her warmth.

“I think if I don’t take you soon you may combust!” He murmured, stroking a finger between her folds, slick with desire.

He touched, teased and tested her readiness until she was a writhing, flushed and pliable putty.

In what seemed like a flash, he removed the tie, freeing her arms and turning her to face him.

He kissed her deeply and lifted her with her legs around his waist to the rocks where he effortlessly pinned her between himself and the sun warmed stone.

Pulling her underwear aside, he freed himself from just enough of his own clothes as necessary, then, with a nod of consent, he pushed into her warm, welcoming depth.

“You feel exquisite,” he groaned, pulling back slightly to push back in.

She clutched her fingers in the material of his shirt with the delicious sensation of being filled to the point of almost discomfort.

It had been a long time.

Baldwin gripped her thighs as he took her, hard, seeming to know exactly what she needed and he had her there much faster than anyone before.

“Baldwin” she cried, desperately trying to stop herself tipping over the edge, it was too quick, “I can’t, can’t stop.”

“You needed this, take it,” he kissed her as she shuddered in his arms, “and worry not little witch, this evening is far from over!”

Eileen woke as the sun started it’s ascent higher, 11am, according to the watch on the bedside, the watch still there as it’s vampire wearer himself was still asleep.

His skin was cooling her body under the hot Mediterranean climate, as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. The light cover tested loosely around their waist.

His heart beneath her hand barely beat as his chest rose and fell with shallow breathing.

He smelled tremendous, the Roman style bath he treated her to after their various exertions still bore the scents of the oil he gently cleansed her with, taking care to massage it into shoulders, wrists, anywhere he had earlier bound.

He then masterfully scraped off the oil with the strigil. A very intimate action given they were both naked at the time. A situation that normally might have been a cause of self-consciousness, at that time, after having been so thoroughly worked by his god-like stamina, she could only enjoy his attention.

The last thing she wanted to do was get up, disturb their peace so she huddled closer, her leg rubbing gently against his own, then she felt it brush her thigh.

Hard and cool as the marble in his frigidarium was his proud erection, now free from the confines of the fabric due to her movement.

She knew he was large, intimately so, but the sheer light of day exposed his skill in helping her to take so much of it.

Arousal twisted in her stomach at the sight of his powerful body and, mesmerised, she moved down the bed.

The first few quiet moans from him were gained from taking just the head into her mouth.

He didn’t actually awaken until she was halfway down the shaft.

“I see you’re still getting into trouble with that pretty little mouth of yours!” He grinned sleepily, lightly brushing his fingers across her cheek.

She released him with a definitive pop.

“It’s past sunrise,” she gazed up at him wantonly, her hand grasping tighter on his shaft, eliciting a hiss of arousal, “You’re no longer in charge.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, licking the tip of his cock for emphasis, “you just have to lie there and let me take care of you.”

There was a clear war in his mind from the frown on his brows to the half closed lids of his eyes.

“That’s not happening,” he brushed the hair from her face, “this trip is about you!”

“Now it’s about me showing my appreciation.”

Before he could respond, she took him into her mouth again, one hand on the base of his shaft as the other trailed up his body to rest over his heart.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his heart beating more insistent than before and she felt his muscles start to flex in an attempt to sit upright.

The wide eyed look of surprise on his face when he found himself pinned beneath her was satisfying as she again let him pop from her mouth.

“How-“ he inhaled sharply.

“You’ve never been with an earth witch, have you?”

“I’ve never been with a witch,” he confessed, “how are you preventing me from moving?”

“I can stop, if you want,” she offered with sincerity, “you’re probably not used to not being in control?”

“It’s disconcerting,” he admitted, “but you trusted me, perhaps it’s only right that I submit myself into your capable hands.”

“Are you telling me, after all the experience you’ve had, and how much you give, no-one has wanted to do this?”

“They have,” he admitted, “but, as you say, I like being in control.”

“Then, do I have your consent to continue?”

She felt the tension that settled into his muscles relax as he relaxed back onto his pillow.

He tilted his head to the side in an exaggerated attempt to study her proposal and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.

“It appears I am in your hands Madame,” he grinned, “but please, I ask only that you are gentle with me.” He teased with infuriatingly attractive confidence.

She responded by placing a timid kiss on the tip whilst staring up at him with the most doe-eyed expression she could manage.

“As beautiful as you were last night,” he combed his fingers through her hair, “I must tell you, right now, you’re easily the most radiant creature I have ever seen.”

“You’re only saying that because I have your cock in my hands!”

“I’m saying that because it’s the truth, and another thing,” he tipped her chin up with his finger to force her attention on his gaze, “I’m in love with you.”

Whatever grasp on her earth witch powers allowed her to anchor on top of him was evaporated by his revelation.

Taking the opportunity of the upper hand, he pulled her to him and under him.

“Baldwin, I-“

“Don’t say anything,” he smiled gently, “it was my time to say it, if you feel the same way and find the right time for you, I’ll be there to hear it.”

Eileen bit her bottom lip as a mixture of pleasure and emotion combined into a heady mixture in her veins whilst Baldwin tested her readiness to take him once again.

With a push he was sheathed inside but stayed his movement for a moment to slip his arms beneath hers and brace his forearms at either side of her head.

The close quarters allowed him the capability to kiss her cheeks gently, then her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally, her lips. His hand gently cradled the back of her head as he started to move.

Overwhelmed by his admission and the tenderness of his actions, she buried her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder and her obligingly held her there until he felt her tighten around him.

“Baldwin, I-“

“I know, you’re almost there,” he soothed when she grasped at his back, “I’ve got you.”

He felt her flutter around him and took his own pleasure when he heard her speak.

“I love you too.”

After lunch, with the table in front of them covered in various documents and arrangements, they planned their immediate future.

“I’m not looking forward to packing,” Eileen rolled her eyes, “but it’s a small price to pay.”

“About that?”

“What?”

“I already had your things moved to the apartment I told you about. I’ll feel better with you close by, even on a different floor.”

“And we need a family friendly story.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well,” she laughed, “when your sister asks to hear the grand tale of our confessing our feelings for each other I can hardly tell her that her brother said it whilst her friend had his cock in her hand-“

“And your friend said it when the aforementioned brother brought her to yet another satisfying conclusion.”

“We’ll say beach!” Both suggested in tandem.

[smiting-finger]

Bin AU Headcanons

Part II of the (〃ω〃) 500 followers! unwritten-headcanon amnesty (some given in response to AO3 comment questions, and others given unsolicited, lol), this time for Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart and from me to you, my heart to yours

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian

Pre-Wei Wuxian’s first arrest, Lan Wangji was quietly volunteering as general legal aid (helping old migrants with their internet/other service contracts, helping women with their domestic violence paperwork), and then Wei Wuxian gets arrested at a protest and Lan Wangji is not there and he doesn’t know this area of law so he signs up to get involved with Activist Legal Support the next day.

Relatedly: Lan Wangji’s approach to helping Wei Wuxian has always been to turn up, do what needs to be done for Wei Wuxian to achieve his goals and then silently leave again. So when the two goobers eventually move in together (and are finally fully in each other’s space, and fully across each other’s movements), Wei Wuxian goes through a period of constant realisations like “Oh, Lan Zhan, you’re the one who’s been doing this? This as well?! THAT, TOO???”

Pre-fake dating, Lan Wangji knows that Wei Wuxian won’t keep any gifts given by secret admirers, but will shamelessly accept anything that Lan Wangji gives him outright as a friend (”friend”). He derives a petty satisfaction from that, and so has responded more than once to a gift-incident by giving Wei Wuxian a corresponding gift of his own:

So if he heard about the gift socks, he’d go out and get Wei Wuxian a pair of novelty There’s No Planet B! socks, which Wei Wuxian would naturally wear both immediately and proudly with his shortest pair of 4/5ths pants. (And Lan Wangji would stand next to him and somehow radiate smugness without making any change to his expression.)

Needless to say, Wei Wuxian has received a lot of Lan Wangji chocolate (chilli, fairtrade), lunches (homemade, nutritious) and other small items.

Wei Wuxian never even considers the possibility of not putting all his fake-dating eggs into the Lan Zhan basket. And also never stops to think about why that iss.

In re kungfu practice: when sparring against normal people, Lan Wangji does annoyed-leg-sweeps because of “I’ll bring you down every peg to the floor” reasons he’s too well-bred to voice. 

Past recipients of this treatment have included:

Wen Chao, 

Xue Yang at his most obnoxious

Jin Zixuan when gossip about his comments in re Jiang Yanli not being pretty or successful enough to date him (”I can’t believe my mum set me up with someone so mediocre”) is at its height.

This is pre-Wei Wuxian onstage-punch. That comes during the second round of gossip.

With Wei Wuxian (and only Wei Wuxian), however, it’s always leg sweeps and pinning, which is because of ... “irritation”.

The Phoenix Mountain Reserve photo has been Lan Wangji’s favourite shot of Wei Wuxian since it was made publicly available, but he couldn’t use it as a wallpaper for obvious reasons.

Then he agrees to the fake-dating, sees how far Wei Wuxian was going to take it and realised: chansu!

At some point during the fake-dating, Wei Wuxian escalates from the phone entry of Oppa to calling Lan Wangji “Oppa~!” in real life, and then from there to a full “Oppa! Saranghaeyo~!” with the arms-on-head love heart. 

After n iterations of this, Lan Zhan responds with a mirror arms-on-head love heart and a deadpan “Saranghaeyo.” with his face still like (• _ •) and it’s an instant, supereffective K.O. for Wei Wuxian.

Every so often, when another one of his romantic overtures has soared right over Wei Wuxian’s head, Lan Wangji considers Jin Zixuan’s over-the-top demonstrations of affection and thinks (bleakly) “...Jin Zixuan got a singing telegram. Must I also resort to a singing telegram? ; _ ; “

In re: the concert hip-hop number, shirtlessness is the goal all along:

A-Qing (who is also a troublemaker on Lan Qiren’s radar - as soon as he receives the form that says that she and Wei Wuxian will be working together, his spidey senses start tingling) has been constantly referencing it throughout all their practices like: 

“Well, because you’ll be shirtless, you’ll have to make sure to-”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, totally do that, but remember that you’ll be shirtless too, so-”

Even Song Zichen and Xue Yang know about it and have been visibly bracing themselves for the dress (or undress, lul) rehearsal

Wei Wuxian has missed all of this because of his amazing tunnel vision.

Speaking of Song Zichen and Xue Yang, while they’re having their Moments:

Xiao Xingchen is swanning around like “But do you think the performance had artistic integrity? A-Qing, I’m a little worried that the choreography didn’t do full justice to the abilities of all our members! I hope they don’t think I’m hogging the limelight!”, taunting them with his half-nakedness while he earnestly tries to make sure that all the other dancers are comfortable and happy with the final arrangement

A-Qing fully notices the heart-eye beams shooting over from the wings (and fully notices the same heart-eye beams shooting over during various practices), briefly thinks about saying something to put the two losers out of their misery (because Xiao Xingchen is not the special level of oblivious that Wei Wuxian is), but then thinks ... nah.

During practice back-painting, Wei Wuxian is so focused on Not Looking that his mistimes his ~sexy stretch~ and gets it in precisely when Lan Wangji has turned his back to get the towel, so it really is all for nothing, RIP.

In the reprise back-painting session (and there definitely is one, what with Lan Wangji’s love for marking and the fact that Chinese calligraphers usually sign their name on their work), the levels of both shamelessness and trolling shoot through the roof on both sides:

Wei Wuxian suddenly feels the need to do a lot more whimpering and moaning, and his flinches of “surprise” and wriggling to “get comfortable” suddenly happen a lot more in the hip area than they did before.

Lan Wangji does a lot more touching of the skin he’s about to paint to “warn” Wei Wuxian that the brush is coming (do warnings have to be quite so ... lingering? Only Lan Wangji knows), discovers a sudden need for wrist-pinning to “hold Wei Wuxian still while he works” and his blowing on ink to get it dry suddenly gets a lot more ... sensual ...

Lan Wangji is the teacher that all his babies are always proposing to. They lOvE him with every inch of their tiny baby hearts, and after they get together, Wei Wuxian watches on with a knowing nod, like “My fam, I getcha. Gege will support you in expressing your feelings and we can ALL win!”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know it, but he has a group of grannies and grandpas wringing their hands over his happiness, too: It’s all well and good that he’s seeing the Lan boy now, but when are they gonna get married, huh? HUH?! WHAT’S THE POINT OF SAVING THE PLANET IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA FILL IT WITH BABIES, WEI WUXIAN???

So once they officially start dating, Wei Wuxian steps into the Cultural Centre like “Ah, our fresh new romance! Even after all this time of fake-dating, I’d better give people some transition time to get used to this new state of affairs!”

And in the background, 73 aunties and grannies are thinking “Look how behind schedule you are, Wei Wuxian!” (because it’s definitely his fault, and not Lan Wangji’s). “Where are the babies? WHERE ARE THE BABIES??”

The wedding advice Wei Wuxian got from the grannies during Mianmian’s wedding prep is liberally flavoured with real life anecdotes like:

“Don’t be like XX’s son. He made the mistake of trying to skimp on the dowry - so disrespectful to people who’ve poured so much love and energy into raising a daughter - and it poisoned the entire relationship.”

“That venue is no good - YY’s daughter had her reception there, and we all had diarrhoea after eating the prawns.”

(And Wei Wuxian is like: “How can you retain all of this bullshit detail about every wedding the Cultural Society has ever witnessed, but still not know how to say the phrase ‘Excuse me, what time is the bus coming’ in English?!”)

Mianmian definitely also gets strong-armed by her excited mother into some glorious(ly terrible) Chinese-style studio wedding photos (with industrial-strength airbrushing and wedding costume changes that span many cultures and many Chinese time periods).

Mianmian swears to never let Wei Wuxian get his grubby hands on that album, on pain of death.

But then her parents host something, and Wei Wuxian goes, and right there, hanging in their living room, is a floor-to-ceiling calendar, featuring Mianmian and Mian-man dressed as Chinese emperor and empress (because Mianmian certainly didn’t want it in her house, but it came with the package.)

Wei Wuxian makes a noise that Mianmian previously thought only dolphins could produce, and proceeds to take SO MANY photos with his phone.

At some point after Mianmian’s wedding, Lan Wangji comes out of the shower to find:

1 pair of pyjama bottoms waiting for him on the bed; and

Wei Wuxian in the corresponding top (which doesn’t cover his butt after all, but whatever, he’s committed), shooting him a double-thumbs up and wearing an expression like 8D!

(And Lan Wangji decides it’s not worth fighting and just goes with it.)

Lan Qiren

Lan Qiren is totally the kind of parent who never boasts about his children directly, but will listen politely to you telling him about how your son scored 86 in his maths examination, and wait for you to obligation-ask about his kids before casually saying, “Oh, Wangji? He scored full marks” and smiling thinly.

He’ll add “Sounds like your son worked really hard” for extra fuck you value if you were being particularly obnoxious.

The greatest tragedy in his parenting life is realising that if your children are The Best, it’s only possible for them to marry down.

His initial feelings regarding Wei Wuxian dating his nephew can probably be summed up as: “Wei Wuxian, I did not lovingly raise my precious Lan Wangji just to give him to you!!!” 

(The problem is that his nephew (inexplicably) likes Wei Wuxian so much, mumblegrumble.)

For weeks after The Resentment of Lan Qiren, every time Lan Qiren sees Wen Ning, he shakes his head sadly to himself and mutters “What a shame, what a shame.”

When Wen Ning responds with a slightly panicked “?!”, Lan Qiren just pats him on the shoulder, like, “No, no, it’s not you. We can’t choose our relatives. And isn’t that the greatest shame in the world?” - and then DOESN’T EXPLAIN ANYTHING.

And after many bouts of thinking and rethinking still lead him to the conclusion that Wei Wuxian is the best choice in comparison to all the other available options, Lan Qiren may or may not visit Cangse Sanren’s grave to burn some incense for an excuse to stand there and offer a sullen, “You fukken got me again, you bastard. I can’t believe you.”

He doesn’t know who he hates more:

Wei Wuxian for being himself and yet still the best choice

Cangse Sanren for not letting being dead stop her from continuing to be a thorn in Lan Qiren’s side

Wen Ruohan for being undesirable enough to disqualify the only valid competitor

The other parents for failing to produce children who are better than Wei Wuxian 

(Like: Surely it can’t be that hard if he (+ his brother + his sister-in law) managed to produce two)

So he settles for hating everyone.

For his next birthday, Lan Xichen sends him a box of blood-pressure-lowering supplements.

Lan Qiren is like “!!!” but he still takes them because just because his nephew is being impudent does not mean there is not also a Need.

In re 3zun:

Lan Qiren goes around determinedly Not Thinking about Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao. Every time his eyes approach something he doesn’t want to see, he just turns his head like NOPE.

He eventually realises that he and Wei Wuxian have this in common and that Wei Wuxian is therefore his most valuable ally - both in terms of having someone to pivot to and have very loud, very enthusiastic conversations about anything else whenever the 3zun do something they don’t want to see, and also having someone to commiserate with about Not Wanting to Know. (But because they’re them, they alternate between teaming up for self-preservation and using their mutual weakness to take petty jabs at each other.)

"-If two of them are dating, then where does that leave the third one?!"

"RIGHT? Imagine finding out that they were silently pining away, forced to third-wheel for their unrequited love and best friend - unrequited LOVES AND BEST FRIENDS? What would you say to that?!"

"That's not even considering which one the third wheel would be - I honestly don't know which option would be the worst, they're all terrible."

"I'm almost ready to say that I'd rather they all be dating each other, except then I'd have to think about how that would work, dynamic-wise, like - who calls the shots? Do you think Nie Mingjue is domineering all the time, or do you think it’s a public front, and he then goes home to be dominated by-"

“STOP.”

Even before 3zun get together (both Lan Qiren and Wei Wuxian have chosen to Never Know when this is), Jin Guangyao is throwing out suggestive comments left and right and then immediately whipping out his (◔◡◔✿) face for anyone’s double-take:

50% to test the waters of public sentiment before he makes a move and it actually becomes his problem

50% because he’s a troll who likes dominance displays

Knowing this factoid, one of Wei Wuxian’s mental 3zun Dynamics possibilities features Superdom!Jin Guangyao, but he does his best to avoid thinking about that.

After Lan Qiren mentally accepts Wei Wuxian into the fold:

He still internally responds to at least 50% of the things that Wei Wuxian does with “Why, that little shit”, but it’s also implied that Wei Wuxian is their little shit now.

And for Lan Family! Qiren, this means: If you shit on him, WE shit on you.

“Shufu” 

Lan Qiren definitely Notices when Wei Wuxian calls him that, but it Doesn’t Do to make a fuss.

He probably has a conversation with Lan Xichen sometime around the first family dinner that goes:

LQR: You've noticed that he's still calling me 'Uncle Qiren' like we're nothing to each other.

LXC: ...If you want him to call you Shufu, should you perhaps not mention that to him?

LQR: What? No, he should already know these things!

And then after the wedding:

LQR: Your brother's boyfriend is finally acting like one of the family. LXC: Haha, oh my.

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan

Although their mothers have been friends for ages, Jin Zixuan grows up in a different city, so they don't see each other growing up. The Jins later move for Jin Zixuan's high-flying corporate job, Madam Jin joins the Culture Society at her friend's behest and immediately falls in love with Jiang Yanli as a daughter-in-law. 

After a lot of cajoling (in both directions), she gets them to agree to one date, which is a disaster (I have more headcanons about this but they won't fit in here) 

Jin Zixuan has a lot of money and zero sense of proportion, which does not generally result in tasteful things. (Where Jiang Yanli is concerned, his desire to keep up a "cool" image is completely overpowered by his desire to please, so that doesn't help either. Like a golden retriever who wants people to think he's a cat.) 

After they get married, Wei Wuxian sometimes thinks about the peacock's peacocking rituals, like: "It's good that he's gotten more reasonable now that they're married - no, wait, what if he hasn't gotten more reasonable, but there's just no one around to see it because they're married?!" and never gets brave enough to ask his sister about it. 

After Jin Ling's birth, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng (and maybe even Jin Zixuan) get locked in an ongoing battle for Jin Ling's affections. Jiang Yanli is the clear favourite, as she should be, but they all want to be #2, and their constant jostling is how he ends up with no chill despite being raised by one calm mum and one aloof (but secretly disaster) dad

But because Jiang Yanli is around, he's very polite about it: the kind of kid who barrels in screaming blue murder, skids to a halt and says "Auntie", and then tears out screaming blue murder again

Wei Wuxian tones it down a lot after he and Lan Wangji adopt A-Yuan because he’s got better things to do, but it’s still A Thing (during visits, A-Yuan spends a lot of time in Auntie Yanli’s lap being gently fed things while his dad and shushu yell at each other over the top of his cousin’s head)

Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli

Initially brought together by their brothers, they now meet up for regular, peaceful, wholesome tea-dates where they discuss the lives of their mutuals and gently exchange advice (and strategies on how to keep their angry-angry parent/proxy-parent's blood pressure down.

Whereas Jiang Cheng gets closer to coughing up blood with every year that passes by without Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji getting their shit together, Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli take the more optimistic view of "Look at how well-prepared we are, we've just run another year ahead of schedule!"

Dinner Crew

Jiang Cheng has been the unwilling audience to years of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s bullshit. 

If asked, he would say: “And you wonder why I’m so angry?! What do you mean ‘dating’, you’ve been fucking married for the last five years!” but no one ever does :’D

Every so often, he thinks about how happy their sister is about the dating situation because she doesn’t know that it’s fake, and he grinds his teeth because why can’t he also not-know!?

To this, Nie Huaisang says, “If we didn’t know we couldn’t help!”

And Jiang Cheng replies, “WE’RE NOT HELPING ANYWAY, LOOK AT HIM!!!”

Meanwhile, Jiang Yanli continues to gush about how happy she is for Wei Wuxian and all Jiang Cheng can do is laugh really unnaturally because he has to “Be strong, Jiang Cheng! Be strong for A-jie! ╥﹏╥”

He goes to read the comments on the Society Facebook after the fujoshi conversation, and gets so angry at all these people who are like “Ah, their love is so beautiful!” that he has to uninstall his Facebook app, and go and shout into a cupboard somewhere.

The non-Wei-Wuxian members of the dinner group have set up a separate chat to act as a support group, where they all go to:

Wail and gnash their teeth after Wei Wuxian does something particularly dumb

Scheme ways into getting Wei Wuxian to get a clue

Console one another when someone’s brave attempt at getting Wei Wuxian to face the truth fails miserably (because while they play by the rules of ‘what a normal human would do’, Wei Wuxian lives by the principle of ‘lol norms are for losers’.)

Relatedly: for every resigned Nie Huaisang face or enraged Jiang Cheng face that Wei Wuxian notices, there are at least three desperate-yet-silent exchanges that he doesn’t. 

Wen Ning is always really optimistic about it, nodding encouragingly like “He’s gonna get it - he’s gonna get it! - oh no, he’s not gonna get it. Oh. Oh no. Ó╭╮Ò”

Wen Ning always has at least one small child hanging off him at all times when he’s at the Cultural Centre because they know he can always be bullied into playing with them and they think he’s great.

Past bullshit dinner group projects have included Getting Jiang Cheng a Date and Making a Picture out of Jin Guangyao’s Forehead Dot While He’s Sleeping

(In re the forehead dot, they end up settling for making it bigger every time he nods off during a movie night at Nie Huaisang’s house, and Nie Mingjue comes home to what’s basically a Japanese flag on Jin Guangyao’s forehead and is like ಠ_ಠ)

Future dinner group projects include providing Wei Wuxian with support for Grand Plans like Getting Along with Uncle Qiren and providing Jiang Cheng with unwanted support for things like Workshopping Jiang Cheng’s List of Partner Requirements

A-Yuan

After A-Yuan’s adoption, Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren redouble their efforts in Can we divorce an in-law?! because although they couldn’t save themselves from being related to Jin Guangyao, for their PRECIOUS BOY--

Therefore, when A-Yuan is five or six and starts to sound out how he’s related to people and why:

A-Yuan: So if Jin-yeye is Uncle Guangyao’s dad, then that makes him my-

Wei Wuxian: NOTHING!

Lan Qiren (springing up from the other side of the room): NOTHING!

Lan Xichen: lol

At around about this same time, Wei Wuxian, who is never gonna stop trolling Lan Qiren about ruzhui until the day he dies, runs A-Yuan through the “You see, my son, my family is not so well-to-do, and since your Uncle married into the Nie family-” talk, and then proceeds to reference it at every opportunity:

1: Despite A-Yuan almost certainly not asking, and

2: despite (/especially because of) Lan Qiren shouting “DON’T TEACH HIM WEIRD THINGS!” in the background.

(Lan Wangji probably lets it happen or encourages it because he thinks it’s funny)

[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch 17)

Chapter Seventeen: Grateful (HawksxGN!Reader)

Plot summary: You thought your hands were full as a regular quirk geneticist, but then you meet Hawks and things get even more exciting!

Warnings:  

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @ gayforkeigo/ @marshmallow-witch/ @redflannel/  @toyo-shiro

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide 

Waiting for anything was never fun, but it’s something you thought you’d be used to by now. As a scientist, having patience was a virtue you’d been forced to adopt into your daily routine. You were always waiting for something. No research endeavor could be accomplished by one person alone. You were always going to have to wait for funds to be granted, proposals to be approved by ethics committees, and data results to be analyzed thoroughly. Over the years, you’d tamed your eagerness and learned not to send emails asking people as politely as possible to hurry up whenever you felt things were taking too long. All that progress seemed to have gone up in smoke though now that you were waiting to hear back from someone you cared about who could very likely be dead.

Your part of the plan had gone fairly smoothly. After finishing up with Dr. Garaki, you’d made your way home to change your clothes and do your hair. You didn’t want to look completely recognizable, just in case, but you doubted anyone would really notice what you were up to. Not many people actually knew where Best Jeanist lived, so circumstances had been on your side in that respect at the very least. Despite not knowing you, the number three hero had been surprisingly accepting of the news that his life had been chosen to be sacrificed so that Hawks could gain the trust of the Villains. You had figured it would be more difficult to convince him, but perhaps he’d already seen signs of corrupt activity within the commission before. It was reassuring to see that he trusted Hawks over the organization that governed the heroes. You might have suspected that he planned to turn you in, but he never once asked for more details than the ones you gave him. He assured you that he could find a way out of Japan without being noticed before telling you to be careful and sending you home.

That had been hours ago, and every possible horrible scenario had played out in your mind over and over as you waited for news. It was well past your usual bed time when your phone finally buzzed with a message from Hawks asking if you were awake and if he could come over. You allowed yourself to relax just a bit. He couldn’t send you anything else since his phone was bugged, but at least you knew he was alive. Of course you told him to come over. It took him a while to get to your apartment from wherever he had been, and it was all you could do not throw yourself into his arms in relief when he finally arrived. You couldn’t act like you’d been worried at all.

“Hey,” Hawks smiles after you let him in. He looked troubled but completely unharmed. “I can’t believe you’re still awake.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” You play along with the small talk. “I got some interesting news about my quirk from the doctor today.”

“Is everything all right?” Hawks frowns, looking even more stressed than he already had. You felt bad for making him worry at all, but at least this gave you an excuse to close the gap and pull him into your arms. He sinks into your embrace and wraps his arms around you without hesitation. You’d both desperately needed the contact.

“Everything is fine,” you explain while rubbing a soothing hand over what you could reach of his back around his wings. “My quirk just works differently than what I originally thought, so now I’m trying to work out how I feel about that. I can tell you more about it later though. How was your day?” He lets out a dry laugh and pulls away to look you in the eyes.

“Oh, you know,” he sighs. “Same old, same old. Patrolling the city, catching bad guys, typical hero stuff.”

You knew very well that he hadn’t been doing any of those things, and it made your heart ache to see the turmoil in his beautiful golden eyes. You reach up to put a hand on his cheek to try and give him any sort of comfort. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“Are you hungry?” you ask even though you were impatient to hear all the details of what he’d really been up to all day. His part of the plan had been much more difficult than yours. He’d been tasked with finding a decoy body, staging a confrontation with Best Jeanist, and selling the act that he’d murdered a fellow pro hero to the League of Villains. None of those things would have been easy, but it was at least better than him actually committing the atrocity he’d been asked to.

“No,” Hawks nuzzles into your hand a moment longer. “I just want to spend some time with you.”

“Cheesy,” You reply teasingly before gently leading his face forward so you could surprise him with a sweet kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss back with a little more gusto than you expected. You didn’t mind, but it made you feel weird that some villain was listening in on everything that happened between you and your hero boyfriend.

“Hey,” you pull away with an apologetic smile. “Why don’t we just chill and watch something on TV for a bit?” Hawks just smiles and nods his head. It would be a good way for you both to write down everything that had happened without having to fake a second conversation at the same time. You go and grab a notebook while Hawks takes off his flight jacket and boots.

“Maybe I should start keeping a change of clothes over here,” Hawks says casually as he plops down on your couch with his wings draped over the back. “If you’re going to make a habit out of letting me stay.” You pick up the blanket off the back of the sofa and toss it at his face to hide the fact that he’d flustered you.

“Or maybe I should start charging you rent,” you raise an eyebrow challengingly. Hawks lets out a chuckle and you felt your embarrassment was worth seeing him acting a little bit normal.

“Come here,” He opens his arms and calls you over softly. You sigh in defeat while sitting next to him and leaning into his side. He covers you both with the blanket you’d thrown at him after retrieving the remote with one of his feathers. You put off the serious discussion just a little longer by arguing over what to watch. Once you came to an agreement, you open the note book and start scribbling down every detail about your interaction with Best Jeanist. Hawks reads over your words twice before writing down his side of the story.

He didn’t go in depth about the decoy body. He just said he’d been able to figure something out. You didn’t want to push the subject, so you just nodded and let him continue. He also wrote about his encounter with Best Jeanist. The man had been ready for Hawks’ visit thanks to you, and had played his role convincingly. Hawks mentioned that he wouldn’t have even known Best Jeanist had been tipped off at all if it weren’t for the packed bags ready by his front door. The number three hero had even prepared a set of his hero costume for Hawks to use to make the decoy body more convincing. They’d pretended to fight, and Hawks had gone to deliver the fake Jeanist to the villains.

Hawks explained that the villains had seemed satisfied with his work and had then taken him to Deika City to fill him in on everything that had happened since the incident there. It was bad. Real bad. Apparently the whole city of Deika had banded together under the ideology of quirk liberation without anyone ever knowing. The League of Villains had been able to take over the city and recruit every last citizen onto their team. They weren’t just a small group of villains anymore. It was an army with over 100,000 members. Something would have to be done to stop them as soon as possible. Hawks would continue to work his angle as a spy, but you would have to do your part too. It was imperative that you figure out what the doctor was planning to do with All For One’s blood. You promised to do your best, causing Hawks to pull you in even closer.

“I’m so grateful for you,” he whispers affectionately. The circumstances right now weren’t the best for building a relationship, but your feelings for Hawks continued to grow stronger. Sure, his actions recently were stepping outside of what was considered heroic, but he was still doing the best he could despite the horrible situation the Hero Commission had put him in. He was smart, strong, and above all else, he was good. You wanted to do anything in your power to get him through this safely and with as much of his sanity intact as possible. You smile while reaching up to run your thumb over his cheek again.

“I’m so grateful for you too.” The response seemed to please Hawks quite a bit. Not long after that, the exhaustion from the day caught up and you both fell asleep with the comfort of knowing you’d survived the day.

[dabblinginmarvel]

Searching for a Dinosaur at the Museum

Request: Hiya! Can I please request an imagine where Steve Rogers falls in love with a nerdy, sweet, innocent, short (I’m 4ft 10 1/2in btw LOL) Kindergarten teacher (I’m also a kindergarten teacher😂). They meet when she takes the kids on a field trip to the museum (the one that has all of the Captain America and Bucky stuff), they talk a lot and he asks her on a date + he introduces her to the Avengers as his girlfriend + Steve being soft for the reader + sweet kisses, cuddles, and hugs.💜

Plot: You and Steve meet in the Smithsonian as you take your class on a tour to learn about heroes and you two develop a relationship.

Blog Tag: @kpopgirlbtssvt

A/N: Hm, yeah, this got longer than I had anticipated. I also altered the prompt slightly. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Warnings: None, maybe mildly unedited.

Word Count Total: 2030

Long Imagine #25

Title: Searching for a Dinosaur at the Museum

Field trip days were some of your least favorite days of the year. Anymore, it was hard to get chaperones, with everyone off at work or just plain unavailable.

Sure, you didn’t have to schedule them, but some of your units benefited from the educational experience they provided. It was all for the kids, after all.

You looked up at the display on the wall, not paying a lot of attention to it since you had come through two days ago for educational purposes, instead thinking of the enormous NCIS news you had learned last night while watching the show. You were pretty excited about what had transpired to the point that you accidentally bumped into someone behind you when you backed up a step.

“Oh, dear, I am so sorry!” You spun around and found yourself looking up into the blue eyes of a tall, broad-shouldered man. He was wearing a ball cap pulled low over his forehead.

He smiled. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s okay, I wasn’t looking where I was going, anyway.”

You at him, eyes squinting a little in thought, then they widened when you realized who it was. “H-hi.” You stuck out your hand.

“Hello….” He shook your hand.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” You grinned. All too soon, the smile faded and you remembered your job. “Oh, shoot, I can’t stay long. I have something to take care of. I’m sorry.”

You took off seven feet to your small group of students admiring the Bucky Barnes exhibit. They were pointing at the pictures.

“Miss Y/L/N! What does this say?” one of your students yelled.

“Joey, please remember our indoor voices.” You looked up at what he was pointing at. “This word is endured.’ It means it was something he lived through.”

“And this?” He pointed at another word, but his voice was quieter.

“Liberated means freed.”

Monica raised her hand. “Why does that number say 1916 and his birthday say 1917?”

You frowned at the inconsistent data. “That is a good question. Someone may have made a mistake.” You knelt in front of her. “You made a good catch today. When you find something like that in a museum, it’s always good to question that. We can go speak to someone that works here and find out before we leave.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Alexei asked and crossed his arms over his chest.

“That’s right. I’m not afraid to admit that sometimes even I have to ask questions. Adults are still learning, too. A good student learns from life along with their teachers. Can you do that?”

Alexei pursed his lips, then nodded.

“Good. Thank you.”

A clearing throat came from behind you. “If I may answer your question?”

It was the man. Steve.

“Steve, these are a few of my kindergartners. We’re learning about real-life heroes.”

“Bucky would be flattered.”

“You’re included in that, Captain.”

You glanced at the kids, their eyes wide and you knew you had split seconds before one of them made a noise. “Remember, inside voices.”

“It’s Captain America!” Joey squealed, bending at the knees and squeezing his eyes shut along with his fists.

“And he can only talk to you if you stay quiet!” you raised your voice by two decibels. The kids stopped chattering, but stayed antsy. “Now, what is James Barnes doing with two birth dates?”

Steve’s smile didn’t falter as he glanced at you, then the kids. He knelt in front of them.

“Bucky pretended that he was a kid that followed the rules, but he lied on his form when he was drafted. It was easier to lie about a birth date when no one was paying enough attention.”

“It says he enlisted, too.”

Steve shook his head. “He was drafted.”

You thought for a moment, then raised an eyebrow at Steve. He stood and his eyes looked confused. “We will have to talk more later about this. I want my students to do reports on heroes and I am sure at least some of them would love to talk about Captain America and his best friend.”

Steve’s mouth upturned in one corner. “I’d be happy to help your students.”

You didn’t miss the faces your students traded between each other. “Alright, kiddos, feel free to keep exploring this exhibit.”

“Are you getting his number?” Alexei asked.

“We have to get that information for your projects, don’t we?”

The kids dashed off to the costumes exhibit, which was five feet away.

You smiled again. “Thank you. I see we have a lot to learn from you, should you be willing to talk about it.”

He dug around in his pocket and you eyed the children in your care. It was much easier on a quieter museum day like today to watch the kids.

“I don’t want to keep you from the kids, so could I get your number?” Steve asked.

“Sure.” You typed in your number and hit save. “I will see you later.”

He waved back when you waved over your shoulder at him.

It took an hour before the children were back on the bus back to school and another half hour after that before all of the kids were being picked up by their parents.

Alexei was the last to be picked up and he turned to you, a frown on his face. “Did we really see Captain America today?”

You nodded. “You sure did.”

“Will we see him again like we did today?”

You looked up, thinking. He looked up, too. When you responded, you told him you would ask Steve Rogers if he would be willing to visit the class and a grin grew on Alexei’s face. His mother showed up and Alexei ran to her. They both waved at you, which you returned.

When you returned to your classroom, you pulled out your phone. Two text messages were waiting for you.

- Hey, it’s Steve, I hope I’m not disrupting your class, but here’s my number.

- Steve again, when you get this, would you like to meet me at Torri’s by the museum? I’ll pay for milkshakes.

You smiled and texted him back, asking if he meant today.

- I’m sorry, Sam decided to ask for me. I was going to wait a couple of days. But if you would like to, yes.

You practically beamed and agreed to meet him there in a little less than an hour if he was willing. Most of that extra time was used to do end-of-class checks. Quick as you could once your tasks were completed, you gathered your grading folder, purse, and lunchbag. The door got locked behind you and you walked to your car.

Steve met you at the little mom and pop shop just as you got to the door. He opened it for you with a smile and you followed him to the counter, offering to pay out of courtesy, and then to a booth with your shakes.

“So, you’re okay with this?” you asked, stirring it with your spoon. It had been established in line that this wasn’t supposed to be a date, but more of helping the kids. While both of you agreed to it, you still felt a little empty about it.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yes. But I meant you’re okay talking about this?”

He nodded and readjusted his milkshake by spinning it around on the table with the tips of his fingers. “Yeah. first I want to ask what that face you made in the museum was all about.”

“I was just thinking of my grandfather.”

He leaned forward.

“The army had a history of screwing up not only the health help he got, but his records.”

“What did they mess up?”

“Oh, you know, information about his wife, his service records….”

“Service records?”

“Yep. They got those wrong. I worry Bucky may have gotten the same treatment.”

Steve thought for a moment. “It could have happened. Maybe he didn’t lie.”

You shrugged, then sipped your milkshake.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening going over some questions for the kids - it was all basic details, like getting Bucky’s exhibit correct. By the end, he had also agreed to come in and talk to the class.

The class talk ended up being a success and most kids wanted to do their report on Steve or Bucky, to the point you had to randomly assign heroes to kids to be fair.

Steve kept in touch with you and you both grew increasingly closer over the next two months until Steve asked the question.

“Would you like to meet my friends? They keep asking about you.”

“Oh, do they now?” you asked slyly. He wrapped his hands around yours.

“Yes. Would you be up for it?”

You nodded. “I would be honored.”

He took your hand. You bit your lower lip in a smile.

As it turned out, you met them after you held a Valentine’s party for your students. The drive was nice and you both had a lot to talk about. When you entered the building, you were startled by the welcoming party. All of the team had come to meet you two inside.

“There’s your girlfriend!” Tony Stark yelled. A smile grew on your face as Steve blushed.

“Is this old man bothering you?” Tony continued, causing you to giggle and shake your head. Everyone greeted you and introduced themselves before you moved into a common room. Drinks were brought in on robots and you could tell it was Tony’s invention, these server bots. You made eye contact with Steve and he rolled his eyes to you.

“Y/N, were you searching for a dinosaur in the museum?” Natasha asked and tipping her head in your direction. Steve opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off.

“Not originally. It seems he found me.”

The team laughed.

“Steve, if you lose her, I’ll take her.” Natasha held her glass up in cheers.

“Would you guys stop, I haven’t asked her out yet!” Steve blurted out.

That caused everyone to fall silent and you turned to him. “Excuse me, yet?”

Steve looked down at his glass and swirled the water. “Yet.”

You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Is there a place to talk alone for a moment?”

Steve gestured for you to follow him and as you left, you heard chatter behind you. You both turned a few corners and were finally far enough away from the team that hopefully your conversation would give you privacy.

Steve chewed on his lower lip before speaking. “I’m sorry about them.”

“Don’t be. I was already under the impression we were dating. They weren’t the only ones who had the wrong impression.”

His mouth dropped open in shock. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’m not used to the way dating is today. I thought you went out on a few dates before you made it official.”

“Before? Yet? Steve, when were you planning to ask?”

He shrugged. “I almost chose yesterday, but I didn’t want to make it seem like I chose yesterday because it’s Valentine’s Day week.”

“I wouldn’t have minded if you had asked because of Valentine’s Day.”

He stood up a little straighter and it made him so much taller again. “Really?”

“Really. Steve, would you like to go steady?”

“Aren’t I supposed to ask you that?” He smiled bashfully.

“Well, you haven’t done it, yet. So I’m asking.”

“Yes. I want to go steady with you.”

A male voice (Tony’s, you would later realize) yelled from around the corner, “It’s about time!”

Steve’s face crinkled with frustration and you took his hand to calm him. Slowly, he turned back to you. He took your face in his hand, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. You closed your eyes and smiled.

Gently, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and your mouth opened slightly, wanting more than just a forehead kiss.

He must have noticed because the next thing you knew, he was kissing your mouth just as tenderly. The hesitation from him didn’t worry you and you kissed him back.

- - -

Masterlist on blog!

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[tessatechaitea]

The Extremist #1

If you've ever really wondered how dumb I am and how much of it is an act, just watch how I completely miss the point of this series!

I wonder if Captain Kirk also felt like his entire body was coming every time he put on his captain's uniform?

The Extremist seems to be the one who punishes members of The Order who perpetrate terrible deeds. And somehow, the suit sexualizes the entire ordeal. So on December 1st, The Extremist punishes the slightly overweight man (who is actually obese because, I guess, Ted McKeever must be fat and he was all, "This guy, being slightly obese, should probably be drawn fatter than me!" That's just speculation. I mean, comic book writers are usually fat. The artists are usually hot fuckbots of raw sexuality) by stabbing him in his fat heart. Apparently people in The Order are allowed to engage in hedonistic pleasures that would be deemed immoral by members of the status quo. But even they have their limits on how far they allow their members to push the envelope. And Mr. Slightly Overweight killed two girls. So what do we know so far, kids? The Extremist is The Punisher in a gimp suit who constantly gets cum stains on the inside of the leather. The Order is a secret society where people engage in illicit sexual desires. And if you murder two girls, you'll be excommunicated from The Order (meaning you'll be killed). You might be able to get away with killing one girl but that's just speculation! The Extremist removes the suit to reveal a woman who can't stop making sexual analogies.

Maybe it's different than what you thought sex was because sex absolutely isn't stabbing a naked fat man in the heart. Okay, maybe that's a little bit like sex.

This lady walks away from the scene of the murder thinking, "I felt like The Extremist." So was she The Extremist and she was just worried that she was enjoying filling the role too much? Or is there some other Extremist she's emulating?! This would be so much easier if it were just a connect the dots puzzle. I hope you kids at home are following along. If you're not, you're pretty fucking stupid! This story isn't even complicated yet! It's just a commentary about how life is sex and sex is life and murder is sex but maybe not life and maybe not sex but somehow you'll still come in your pants! The Extremist mentions how she's doing this for Jack. She mentioned Jack earlier when she said something about him lying on the pavement outside a sushi restaurant while she said, "I dye my hair, Jack." So I guess the main story is about her and Jack. But it's going to be told in tiny snippets between her sex murders. Just like the real story in A Series of Unfortunate Events is the relationship between Lemony Snicket and Beatrice. I hope The Extremist gives us more of the real story per page than Lemony Snicket did. It was hard to remember all of the Beatrice details when he only mentioned her once like every hundred and twenty pages! Later that same night, The Extremist gets a call from Patrick (who reminds her of Jack) to go out and do some more Extremist work. She wanted to give it a rest because she's worried that the suit is taking control. So I guess it's a symbiote, right? But Patrick is all, "Come right over and don't take a shower! I want you to be all sex stanky in that thing!" The audio journal entry for that night contains the first words read in the story as a brown person's hand is seen playing one of her tapes but then rewinding it to begin the story on December 1st (as seen in the first scanned panel earlier). So that'll probably be important later! The Extremist meets with Patrick that night, mostly because he wants to fuck her. But she consents to see him because, as The Extremist, she's looking for Jack's murderer. She doesn't have a name yet so I can only refer to her as The Extremist. But that's a misnomer when she's out of the suit. Maybe we're not supposed to get to know her outside of the suit since this story is about The Extremist only and that is whoever is in the suit at the time.

She's also racist so I guess the name fits.

Beginning a racist statement with "I'm trying to be honest" doesn't mean you have to be forgiven for your racism. Maybe begin with "I'm trying to be not racist!" Oh, and then don't add a "but"! Patrick tells The Extremist a story about how Lords in Victorian England used to take in young East End girls living on the street. In return for giving them a home, they expected sexual favors. Patrick's ancestor stood up in the House of Lords to declare that it was the "inalienable right of every British Lord to find amusement among prepubescent working class girls." And then he says this:

In 1993, that may have seemed unlikely. In 2019, we're one speech away from Trump making this exact declaration and the GOP and evangelical Christians falling right in line behind him.

Patrick's point is that his ancestor was making, for the time, a conservative defense against liberal views that poverty stricken children shouldn't be preyed upon. His point is that the "extreme" position varies across time and space due to changing cultural mores. I think the real point is that conservative ideas are always fighting against changes that help to protect those preyed upon by the rich and powerful. Which means conservative ideas and values are always fucking wrong. I said always! This comic book has a lot of tits and ass. But I don't think I've seen a penis yet. Not that I've been scouring every page with a magnifying glass to find one! That's slander! When he was alive, Jack was The Extremist's husband and also The Extremist. He was cheating on The Extremist outside of The Order and his being The Extremist which I guess makes his infidelity worse. It's fine if he fucks other people in The Order or even out of The Order as long as he's currently The Extremist. But doing it out of costume and out of The Order? That's a slap in his wife's face except whatever a slap in the face is sexually. I guess sometimes it's just a slap in the face! But more often, it's probably a slap on the fanny. Yes, I meant the British fanny! On December 9th, Patrick kills himself in a game of American Roulette. That's Russian Roulette except instead of one gun and bullets added as you take turns, players choose from a pile of guns with one of them loaded with six bullets. I don't know if Peter Milligan just made that up but it's a pretty good joke if he did. At the American Roulette game, The Extremist discovers Jack's killer. How she did it isn't as good as how Sherlock Holmes solves crimes. It's not even as good as how Matlock solves crimes. It's practically not even good as how Perry Mason solves crimes where he just hounds witnesses until there's just four minutes left in the hour and somebody confesses. She just notices somebody that doesn't look like they want to fuck her and just looks frightened instead and thinks, "A-ha! That's what Patrick said I should look for! Somebody who doesn't want to fuck me!" It's a good thing I don't know anybody who was murdered because I would think that every single person I ever met killed them. The Extremist heads over to this woman's house, the woman Jack was fucking, and kills her. But first she gets her to confess! That's important because you don't want to get caught in a loop where you keep killing new people because you're unsure if you killed the murderer. That would be like a cut-rate Memento where instead of memory loss, the protagonist just suffers from mild doubt. Judy (that's her name!) quits and moves to the suburbs. She leaves The Extremist suit and her audio tapes for somebody else to find (which somebody else does! On page one! The black homeless guy, I bet!). Nope, she goes back for the suit because she's super horny. The black guy probably finds the suit in a later issue. Or maybe he's working for the FBI. After she retrieves the suit, Patrick contacts her. He faked his own death and has become Pierre. I guess he's a vampire or something. Is that too fantastical for a story like this? Up until now, it's been super realistic with the whole sex club for people who need extra drama and sex in their lives. Also how it takes place in San Francisco! Patrick gives The Extremist a letter to read which is also an offer and/or her next mission. In the letter, Pierre confesses to killing Jack. The other woman was just a shill who wanted to be killed by The Extremist after being blamed for ruining The Extremist's marriage! The Extremist decides to kill Pierre because he ruined her life. The issue ends with her and Pierre about to do battle to the death. The next issue will concentrate on Jack's story, six months previous. The Extremist #1 Rating: C-. Picture Pages! Picture Pages! Time to get your Picture Pages! Time to get your strap-ons and Rohypnol! So, kids, what did you think of our first sordid tale of sordidity? Pretend this comic book was coming out this year and I didn't know Peter Milligan was writing it. Would I purchase the next issue? Probably not. I probably only bought the second issue in 1993 because there were so many titties in this one. Porn was a lot harder to come by in 1993! Other than the titties, I'm not sure I understand the point of this story yet. Is it about what people will do when they're pushed to the extreme? How far will a mousy wife who was shocked at doing sex on top go when she finds her husband has cheated on her and he's been murdered?! Or maybe it's about how we are the clothes we wear. Judy only loves to fuck and murder when she's in The Extremist's gimp suit. It's like that scene in Fire Walk With Me when Donna ties Laura's sweater around her waist and then starts fucking guys like crazy. Then Laura notices and is all, "Don't wear my clothes! Never wear my clothes, you dumb slut! Wait, who are you? Are you sure you're Donna? What happened to Lara?!" Sometimes I put a sock on my dick and then I'm all, "I'm a rock star! Look at me, mom!" I mean, I don't actually try to get my mom to look at me! That's just something I've heard people tend to say when they feel proud of themselves.

[junionigiri]

Work In Progress [BNHA] [Preview of Chapter 1!]

Rating: T for strong language (since Bakugou is in it )

Summary: For the year’s Interscholastic Fantasy Festival, Class 2A is working on a musical! The reluctant Bakugou is assigned to work on the script with Uraraka, who proves to be a more eccentric writer than he thought.

Relationship: Kacchako <3

Notes/Warnings: This is a preview of a part of chapter 1. Since there’s the main story and the story within the story, the chapters are pretty darn long. I’ll start publishing the chapters in full once I’m five chapters in ^^’ Apart from Bakugou’s language and liberal 4th wall breaks I don’t think there’s anything to worry about in this fic~

Bakugou seriously did not want to work on Uraraka’s dumbass script. It’s not that he was bad at writing--in fact, beyond his good grades, he knew he was pretty good at it. Principal Nezu had personally informed him that the essay he submitted on “Why I Want To Be A Hero” was one of the most well-composed ones he’s ever read.

It’s just that Bakugou hated fantasy. And hated fiction-writing (because fiction was not real, therefore it was a waste of his fuckin’ time).

Most of all though, he hated having to work with other people to achieve any kind of common goal. Look at his damn stats for cooperativeness in the character book and anyone with half a brain would get it. And to cooperate for a stupid ass waste of time like the Fantasy Festival? Who the hell thought up of the stupid Fantasy Festival anyway?! Weren’t there more important things in society to worry about?

And the fact that he was working with Uraraka fuckin’ Ochako was in itself pretty aggravating. It’s not that he hated her--in fact, she was one of the few to earn Bakugou’s (grudging) respect, since their infamous Sports Festival encounter when they were first years.

However, since their encounter at the festival, Uraraka learned not to be the tiniest bit afraid of him anymore. He knew that this girl wouldn’t be the type to just shut up and do what he tells her to, and he really didn’t feel like making such an effort just to write a stupid play.

But now that he knew that fuckin’ All Might was counting on him to write the script, well… he couldn’t get out of it now, could he? Bakugou was many things, but a disappointment to All Might, he’d rather not be.

So that was how he found himself stomping his way away from the common areas to his room, with Uraraka bouncing right behind him. They were going to sit down there to look over her draft, but it was overrun by the costumes, set-design, and props people with all their shit.

“Why your room?” Uraraka said, huffing as she struggled to keep up with Bakugou’s pace. “I don’t think girls are allowed there…”

“Let ‘em try to kick you out, Round-Face,” he growled as he tapped on the elevator button impatiently.

“If you say so, Explodey-face,” she teased, earning her a growl which was received with a giggle. This was what Bakugou was talking about. This damn girl knew no fear.

They eventually made it to his room, with Bakugou stomping the entire way and Uraraka skipping like an oblivious little red riding hood romping through the forest with a picnic basket, the purest picture of ignorance and innocence, unwitting of the ravenous wolf who lurked in the foreboding shadows of the dark, nightmarish wood.

Ugh. Really, Bakugou? Already gearing yourself up to write this fuckin’ fantasy shit? You guys haven’t even sat down yet. Don’t be too fuckin’ eager. 

“Uwaa, your room’s amazing, Bakugou! I didn’t think it would be so neat and sparkly~”

Much to his annoyance, Little Pink Riding Cheeks was already making herself right at home next to his desk. He felt a vein or two pop over his forehead, like in animes if they were in an anime. “Why the fuck wouldn’t it be neat and sparkly?! You expect a guy like me to just live in a dump?!”

“I’m just sayin’, I wish my room was as neat. I knew you were great at lots of things, but even cleaning?” she said wistfully. “Hey, I have an idea! Next time, let’s go to my room, and--”

“I ain’t helping you clean your damn room, Round-Face.”

She pouted and innocently twiddled her thumbs. “I -wasn’t- going to say that, but, you know, now that you mentioned it…”

He grit his teeth so loudly Uraraka gasped and asked him if his teeth were okay. “Let’s just…!!! Get this fuckin’ script over and done with already!”

“Eh, fine, fine. Sorry for teasin’ ya! Watch yer blood pressure, a’ight?” She reached over to open her bag and pulled out a messy folder that was crumpled, filled to its limit with papers with tags pointing in all directions. A post-it with a messy scrawl on it flew out as she pulled out the mess. “So, this is what we’re gonna be workin’ on!”

“What the fuck is that mess? Did you fuckin’ sit on it and flush it down the toilet and set it on fire?”

“How rude!” Uraraka puffed her cheeks. “I only sat on it once! On accident! And I don’t bring homework to the toilet! That’s just unladylike.” She opened up the folder and revealed a disorganized array of handwritten scripts scrawled on legal pad, post-its, sketches, more post-its, reference photos of their classmates with post-its on them, receipts, a grocery list, and a few folded-up paper bags from Tokyu Hands.

Bakugou’s fingers itched. He spent so much energy restraining himself from fixing the mess that was now taking over his desk that he barely heard Uraraka’s spiel.

“So, in the meeting which you missed, we drew lots. Everyone’s working on the production and stuff but all of us will be acting in the play too. Some of us bit parts and stuff, but yeah. I asked everyone what they wanted their roles to be. Based on those ideas, I sketched out my ideas on what their characters would be.”

She pulled out the sketches, and Bakugou had to admit, they weren’t badly done. He would go so far as to say that she might have a talent in drawing. They were scratchy and messy, but Uraraka seemed to place great care in drawing out the likeness of each classmate, and the details of each character and costume and even background information were at least 70% fleshed out for each of them.

“So based on the lottery, Deku-kun’s the lead character. You, me, Tsuyu-chan, and Todoroki-kun are gettin’ large roles, plus we gotta pay attention to All-Might-sensei’s important cameo. We’re gonna write the story based on all of this! And, if we want to allot time for practice and stuff, we have to finish most of the script in a week!”

“The f-- I’m gettin’ a large role too?! Nobody said that!”

“It ain’t my fault you weren’t at the meeting, Bakugou-kun.”

The blonde boy scowled as he went through the sketches. The fucking nerd Deku’s role was that of a ‘Squire’ (but his costume made him look like a fucking hobbit). Uraraka had a hood (fuckin’ coincidence from his red riding hood fantasy earlier) and a staff, and she was a ‘Mage’. Frog was a froggy lookin’ barmaid. IcyHot was a Prince (probably of the Land of Half and Halfs where people were always shitty and constipated). All Might was a Legendary Knight in exile (also fitting, in a morbid sort of way).

And Bakugou was… a Bard. His sketch had him wear fuckin’ poofy pants and a stupid fuckin’ hat with a feather on it and a stupid shitty tiny harp that the chubby babies in those old fuckin’ European paintings had. He all but made the paper disappear from a blast from his fist. “Oi, Roundface. Who’s the fucker I gotta kill besides you for giving me this pansy-ass role?!”

“Hey, it’s your fault. You weren’t there yesterday.” Uraraka repeated, not even the least bit apologetic. “And that thing you destroyed was a brilliant joint effort between me, Kirishima-kun and Kaminari-kun. Nice goin’, Explodey-face.”

“Fuck y’all! I’ll kill those idiots!” He shredded the paper further. “Gimme that pencil!” Within seconds, he sketched out something different, muttering expletives the entire time. After he was done, he dumped the pencil on the desk, almost breaking it into tiny little pieces.

Uraraka gasped. “Wow, Bakugou! That’s really impressive! A Dragon Tamer, huh?” She traced his sketch with one finger, which showed him with a fur cape, tattoos, a necklace made of the fuckin’ skulls and teeth of his enemies, pants and boots, and lots of fire blazing in the background for extra badassery. She grinned at him teasingly. “So you have been thinkin’ about this so-called fantasy shit too!”

“Fuck you,” he said, shoving her in the face unceremoniously. “Now I know that I gotta change that fuckin’ script of yours. Let’s just get this fuckin’ shit over with.”

“Okay…” Uraraka pulled out the legal pads, but shielded them from Bakugou. “Um. Just so you know, Bakugou, these are really, really, rough drafts, okay?”

His jaw jutted out in annoyance. “The fuck you mean by rough drafts. I thought I was just gonna edit your shit.”

She gave him a ridiculous look. “Well, you are. But also, I started workin’ on this just a week ago sooooo you gotta help me finish like a teeny bit of it.”

“How fuckin’ teeny do you mean.”

“Um. Like. 50% of it, mmmaybe…?”

Bakugou could almost see the smoke coming out of his own fuckin’ nostrils.

“Anyway, that’s exactly why we can’t waste anymore time, right?” said Uraraka, a positive beam glowing out of both ears. “And don’t you worry! The story’s practically finished in my head!”

There’s probably nothing in there but a single light bulb struggling to survive, thought Bakugou in annoyance. He put his palm to his face and tried his hardest not to yell at her. “Fine, Uraraka. Let’s just fuckin’ start already. No matter what, I’m kickin’ you out of my room by 10 PM.”

“Okay! Glad ya see it my way, Bakugou-kun!” She smiled and pulled out the first page of the script, which read:

*

 - Deku and the Final Fantastic Lord of the School of Wizardry!: The Legend of the Airbender’s Song of Ice and Fire -

(A Work in Progress)

Act One, Scene One: In Which Deku-kun Leaves His House and Adventure Begins

Written by: Uraraka Ochako

 *

“The fuck? Are you trying to outdo Class B’s lameass play from the last year’s cultural festival, Round-face?”

 “It’s a work in progress! We can edit it out later.” Uraraka said as she scribbled Explodey McSplodeface next to her name on the by-line.

[sebeth]

Young Justice: “Fears” and “Drop-Zone”

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

 Issue 6: “Fears”

We left off with Superboy declaring the thought of “destroying Superman” is constantly on his mind.

While Superboy’s teammates reel in shock, Dick decides to narrate his origin recap.  But internally since Batman won’t let Dick share details about his personal life

We flashback to four years ago, the Flying Graysons (John, Mary, Dick, Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin John) were performing at Jack Haly’s Circus. Dick mentions he was nine-years old.

Dick mentions that “I never knew either of my grandfathers.  They died a long time before I was born.” He also comments “I was the youngest of the troupe, so father said I wasn’t allowed to be involved with the most dangerous stunt the Flying Graysons performed.”

Dick continues “I was jealous of my older cousin, secretly wanting to be in his place.  He would always mess up my hair and say ‘Don’t worry, squirt, you’ll get a chance sooner than you think.  He always knew the right thing to say.”

We know what happens next: Zucco – tampered ropes – bodies hitting the floor.

“A lot of things happened after that.  Most of them were a blur, even if I could concentrate, I didn’t think I would be able to say exactly what order things happened in.  The next crystal-clear thing I do remember was Bruce Wayne.”

“My mother and father dead. My aunt and cousin dead.  My uncle alive but paralyzed for the rest of his life. The only living family member I had was unable to take care of me.”

“Bruce Wayne came to my rescue and let me become part of his family.”

We know the rest – after training, Robin is born and Zucco is brought to justice.

This is the only instance I can recall of Dick having relatives other than his parents. Discounting generations-back Talons.

An odd choice to leave the uncle alive since he’s never mentioned again.  The extent of the paralysis isn’t mentioned.  Since it appears that gaining custody of Dick was never an option, I would assume the paralysis is from the neck down. It’s a safe bet that Bruce provided the best medical care for the uncle.  

Poor Uncle Grayson. He lost his wife, child, brother, and sister-in-law!  And, as an aerialist, he is now paralyzed.  All in one night.  Talk about your worst nightmare coming true.  I wonder if Dick maintained contact with his uncle.  He could use the support but he was dealing with multiple traumas and depression – would he have even wanted to see his nephew?

Wally interrupts Dick’s ruminations: “Robin, did you hear what he said? He just said that he wants to take down Superman!”

Superboy clarifies: It’s how I feel…sometimes.  What if that’s why I was created?  What if that was the only reason I was created? I just feel…I don’t know what I feel. Sometimes…thoughts happen.”

Dick agrees Conner has a valid point: “We really don’t know anything about what they did to him yet.”

Wally defends his friend: “We know he’s one of the good guys and we know he’s part of this team.  In my world, actions speak louder than words. Superboy has proven his intentions with actions.”

Wally checks in with his other pal: “Hey, what’s with you? Not like you to zone out like that.”

Dick admits to being lost in thought.

The writers seem to be taking a nod from the Justice League cartoon and are establishing Wally as the heart of the team.

Wally asks Megan about her story.  Megan gives a few selective details:

·         Martians live underground as the surface is uninhabitable.

·         Family lives are very entwined.

·         Martians mostly communicate telepathically.

·         Telepathy helps large Martian families maintain a sense of community.

·         Martian families are usually quite large.

·         Megan has 12 sisters, 17 brothers, and over 300 cousins.

·         M’gann mentions that Martians are green, white, or red.

·         Megan claims that her parents were green Martians and she was raised in a liberal environment.

·         “Others were not as tolerant and the treatment of white Martians was especially horrible.

·         M’gann states that she was the closest to uncle J’onn: “We had a great relationship.”

·         We discover J’onn is the most famous Martian in history: “He grew to be a true beacon of hope and stood for what our society could achieve.  Upon his return to Mars it was declared a day of planetwide celebration.  When he came back it was not just for adulation.  He also had a specific purpose in mind.  Having learned about all of you, J’onn decided now was the time to introduce a younger Martian hero to earth.  J’onn J’onzz came to Mars and decided he would hold a competition to find the next Martian champion that would be returning with him to fly among the heroes of earth.”

·         Megan enters the contest – very shades of Wonder Woman and wins.

·         “At first, Uncle J’onn seemed as if he didn’t want me to compete.”

M’gann has revised significant parts of her background as we discover later in the season.

I wish we knew more of J’onn’s Young Justice background.  In the traditional comic book-verse, J’onn is the sole surviving Green Martian accidentally brought to earth by a scientist.  The Green Martians were wiped out by a telepathic plague. White Martians were imprisoned/banished before the plague but small numbers turn up to cause trouble for J’onn and the Justice Legue at various points.  White Martians are very barbaric and warlike.  “Red martians” are an alien species found on Titan/Saturn – the most famous member is Jemm, Son of Saturn.

Taking Megan’s account at face value – which is hard as she is a very skilled liar – it seems as if Martians are thriving on their home planet.  The white Martians don’t seem to have been banished or imprisoned but are not accepted by the green and red Martians.  

I’m assuming the white Martians are still very barbaric and warlike which causes their isolation.

Megan states she was raised in a “liberal environment”. Does this mean her parents were White Martian versions of hippies – make love, not war.  If her parents did adopt a more peaceful approach it could explain their isolation from the white contingent and the suspicion of the red/green groups.

M’gann’s White Martian nature explains her lax morals when it comes to her telepathic powers.  The White Martians abuse of their powers was one of the main divides between the greens and whites.  Assuming Megan’s parents left the “white nature” behind it doesn’t mean they were instructed in the strict guidelines the green/red follow. If the parent isn’t taught, it becomes hard to instill it into their children.

Megan’s desperation to escape her environment – and her hero worship of J’onn – is easy to see.  The later reveal of Megan’s White Martian adds another layer of “J’onn didn’t seem to want me to compete”. It’s important to note that the other competitors were all green Martians.  Megan, of course, is drawn as green as the big reveal hadn’t happened yet in the cartoon.

I’m curious if the White Martians ever attacked the Justice League in the YJ-universe?  It’s the only reason I can think of as for why Megan is so desperate to have everyone believe she is a green Martian.  Otherwise, there could be a whole rainbow’s worth of Martian colors – no one on Earth is going to know.  It would also explain why J’onn brings in M’gann as his “niece”.  It would eliminate any wariness the members of the Justice League might have about a White Martian being on their protégé’s team.

Does M’gann really have that huge a family?  As I said earlier, she’s a very convincing liar prone to living in her own fantasy life – is this extensive family yet another lie/fantasy?  Does her parents’ “liberal environment” cause her to be ostracized from this extended family?

Finally, how did J’onn arrive on earth?  Was he accidentally transported by a scientist or did he arrive on earth as an explorer/ambassador?  Is his wife and daughter still alive? How long was J’onn away from Mars before he returned?

The issue ends with a Cadmus flashback.  Superboy dreams of confronting and killing an out-of-control Superman.  A scientist informs Roland that the dreaming Superboy has cracked another containment pod.

Roland orders the scientist to “Keep him under and get a new containment pod in here!”

Another scientist comments “What the G-Gnomes make him see must be pretty real to him.”

We return to the camp fire as Superboy ruminates: “These are my thoughts.  This is what they put in my brain.  I remember…this is why I was created.”

We now return to “Drop Zone”.  I mentioned the apparent time screw-up in an earlier post.  Kobra’s invasion of Santa Prisca begins on June 19th. The next scene has Young Justice headed to Santa Prisca on June 21st – almost a month before the team actually formed.

I’m going with the assumption that June 21st was meant to be July 21st.   Otherwise, we would have 1) missed a whole year’s worth of the team’s adventures, and 2) it only took the Justice League 48 hours to discover the Light’s plans for Santa Prisca.  The Light would have a hard time passing itself off as criminal masterminds if they can’t even keep a plot secret for 48 hours.

Robin recalls Batman’s instructions to the team: “This is a covert and recon mission only.  Observe and report. If the Justice League needs to intervene, it will.”

Robin asks the important question: “So who’s in charge?”

Batman and Red Tornado glance at each other: “Work that out between two.”

Robin’s smirk indicates he believes he should be in charge.

Dick put Bruce in an awkward position. Bruce can only feel one of two ways: 1) He believes Dick should be in charge but doesn’t want to “play favorites” or 2) He doesn’t feel Dick is ready but doesn’t want to tell him that in front of the others.

Covert costumes make their first appearances.

“No capes. No tights. No offense.” – Superboy doesn’t need your stealth tech, thank you very much.  And all he needs to do is switch his shirt inside out in order to achieve stealth mode.

“It totally works for you.” – Megan is as subtle as Wally when it comes to flirting.

“Knew I didn’t need a line.”

“And yet creating a seismic event may not have helped us much with the covert.”

Give Conner a break – he’s still figuring out the extent of his abilities.

Conner and Wally aren’t well-suited for “covert” – they don’t have the temperament for it.

“Did you hear that?”

“You do have great ears?” – Wally and Megan need to have a flirting contest – points given if they actually achieve the “subtle” art of flirtation.

Aqualad, dropped off at a different point on the island, is the only one attempting to come up with/adhere to the plan.  Dick’s already splintered off to do his own thing and Wally’s totally going to follow the plan as soon as he “finds Rob”.

Bane and his henchmen are having a shootout with Kobra operatives.  Wally stumbles into it: “So much for the stealthy.”

Superboy jumps into the brawl.  Bane tries a power attack but discovers it doesn’t work on a Kryptonian.  Poor Bane is having a horrible time this episode – his strength is one of his top assets but this is the second time it’s failed him. It must be humbling to think of yourself as a physically powerful man only to discover you can’t compete with the real powerhouses of the DC Universe.

Robin launches into the fray: “What is wrong with you guys? Remember covert? Why didn’t you follow my lead, vanish into the jungle?”

To be fair, the Flashes don’t do covert – they are brightly colored heroes much loved by the public. Superboy is fresh out of the containment pod and doesn’t have the temperament or training for covert missions. Miss Martian’s powers are perfect for these situations but she’s a total newbie plus her entire race consists of telepaths – is “covert” even a concept on Mars?

Wally explains to Robin that they’re not mind readers – they didn’t know Dick’s plans.

Megan pipes in: “You told me I could only read the bad guy’s minds.”

Aqualad reunites with the group.

Robin recognizes the Kobra goons’ outfits.  Kaldur and Dick agree Batman wasn’t aware of Kobra’s presence on Santa Prisca.  Batman had to suspect something was different on the island.  Why else would he send in the team – Bane has been running Santa Prisca/producing Venom since before he “broke the bat”.  Unless this mission was only supposed to be a “training wheels exercise” in covertness.

Wally says it’s time to radio Bats: “Mission accomplished>

Dick disagrees: “These cultists aren’t on venom. Kobra’s hoarding the stuff.  We don’t leave.  Not until I know why.”

Wally and Dick argue over who should be leader of the team.  Wally correctly points out that Dick is only 13-years old and ducked out on the rest of the group as soon as they arrived on the island.  Dick counter claims that Wally isn’t that mature at 15-years old.

The boys continue to bicker. Superboy makes it clear that he has no desire to be a leader.  Miss Martian forfeits herself due to the Mr. Twister fiasco.

A tied-up Bane and henchmen discuss plans while Dick and Wally continue to argue.  Superboy overhears and the small smile on his face indicates Conner understands Spanish.

Wally and Dick wrap up their argument:

“Duh. You’re not Batman.”

“Duh.  Closest thing you got.”

Bane bursts out laughing at this point: “Such clever ninos.”

Yeah, arguing like a pair of toddlers doesn’t help your credibility with bad guys.  And in front of one of your dad’s villains!  Shame, Dick!  You know Bane’s bringing it up to Bruce the next time they fight.

Miss Martian attempts to read Bane’s mind but he’s “not that easy”: “He’s mentally reciting football scores en Espanol.”  The moment is a testament to Megan’s youth and inexperience as a resident of earth. J’onn wouldn’t have been dissuaded by the “foreign language” trick.

Bane proposes the old “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” routine.

Bane and the team head to the factory.  Dick is still throwing jabs at Wally’s expense.  Wally again calls out Dick on his behavior: “A real leader would focus on getting answers.”

Dick is rather petty but he is only 13-years old.  Not the most mature time of anyone’s life.

The group enter the Venom factor via a secret entrance.  Robin promptly disappears.

Bane: “Has the young fool already been caught?”

A resigned Aqualad: “No, he just does that.”

Kid Flash decides he’ll get the intel and be back before Robin.  Ignoring Kaldur’s “Wait”, Wally speeds off.

A sarcastic Bane: “Great chain of command.”

Robin and Kid Flash are in a control center, looking at chemical compounds.  Wally’s love of science is demonstrated as he recognizes one chemical compound as Venom and the other one as the Blockbuster formula from Cadmus.  The two combined make a powerful combination – and a permanent one.

Sportsmaster arrives on the island.  Yes, the Sportsmaster!  He’s a rather obscure Golden Age villain that I don’t even think has been used in the comics since the All-Star Squadron/Young All-Stars/Infinity Inc days. I’ve mentioned before that I love the creators’ knowledge and fondness of the complete scope of the DC Universe – this is just another example.

Off topic, the main reason I hate re-boots and re-sets are because of all the characters and elements of the DC Universe that are lost every single time.  It’s the same reason I hate all the senseless deaths in comics.  Boo to all of that!

Did the Justice Society and its respective foes still debut in the World War II era?  Or was their debut pushed into a later decade – say the 1970s or 1980s?  Sportsmaster is looking rather young for a non-meta who debuted in World War II. Not that aging is a problem for comic book universes – with all the magic, chemicals, radiation, and cosmic craziness it wouldn’t take much to explain the slow-aging of every inhabitant on earth.  

Miss Martian spies on Kobra and Sportsmaster’s conversation.  Aqualad attempts to reach the Justice League but the coms are jammed. Kaldur decides they need a plan.

Bane: “I have a suggestion.” Bane leaps down and starts fighting Kobra henchmen.

Mammoth storms into the factory but finds Superboy isn’t as easy a target as Bane.

Bane leaves the chaotic scene.

Wally and Dick enter the fray. Miss Martian telepathically links the team.  Robin has – once again – disappeared from the scene.  Robin intercepts Shimmer and Lord Kobra at their helicopter. Kaldur demands Robin return – and, surprisingly, Dick listens.

Kaldur orders a strategic retreat.

Dick wonders “How could my first mission as team leader go so wrong?”

Kaldur diplomatically points out: “You do have the most experience.  But perhaps that is exactly what has left you unprepared. Fighting alongside Batman, your roles are defined. You two do not need to talk. But this team is new. And a leader must be clear, explicit. He cannot vanish and expect others to play parts in an unknown plan.”

Dick completely misses the point: “So I’m supposed to hold everybody’s hands.”

Dick doesn’t take criticism well. Not even the constructive kind.

Dick concedes: “You lead us, Kaldur.  You’re the only one who can.”

Superboy chimes in with “Could have told you.” I’m guessing Conner thought Kaldur was the leader the entire time.

Kaldur graciously accepts, informing Dick “I accept the burden until you are ready to lift it from my shoulders. You were born to lead this team.  Maybe not now but soon.”  Kaldur’s not only the team leader but the team diplomat.

Lord Kobra finds his helicopter has been sabotaged.

Bane betrays the team. Shocking, I know.

Bane monologues while Aqualad devises a plan.  Bane discovers he’s horribly outmatched against Young Justice including receiving a one-punch knockout from Superboy.  The day has not been a good one for Bane’s ego.

Young Justice storm Kobra and his henchmen.  Lord Kobra orders Sportsmaster to leave with the shipment.  Sportsmaster is very perceptive as he’s gotten the drop on an invisible Megan twice in this episode.  Kid Flash claims another souvenir.

Robin battles Kobra but is outmatched.  Aqualad puts down Mammoth – a nice testament to Kaldur’s skill.  Sportsmaster keeps Miss Martian and Superboy occupied which should be a nice testament to his skill but feels a bit ridiculous.  He shouldn’t be able to last two seconds against a Kyrptonian or a Martian much less both at once.

Sportsmaster escapes in a helicopter but Megan planted an explosive device causing the copter to crash.

Lord Kobra now faces the entire Young Justice team and decides to exit stage left: “Another time then”. The team simply stands there and lets him escape?

Batman reads the team the riot act: “A simple recon mission.  Observe and report.  You’ll each receive a written evaluation detailing your many mistakes.  Until then…good job.  No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. How you adjust to the unforeseen is what determines success.  And how you choose who leads determines character.”

Sportsmaster meets with the Light: “All I recovered is a single ampoule of the Kobra venom.”

The Light intones “Enemies of the Light must not stand.”

One member of the Light is speaking French.  I’m blanking on French bad guys in the DC Universe – the only ones I can recall are Monsieur Mallah, Madame Rogue, and Warp.  

[kalesandfails]

oh honey

Already, much has been made about my daughter and her special needs. It’s honestly a real whole lot to put on a thirty-pound person, some whose primary interests are yogurt and puzzles. She’ll be four in two months and the degree of intervention she has received is sometimes overwhelming to me, given the Wild Wild West I felt my own childhood to be.

My parents had basically no help apart from their immediate family, so my interactions with adults was defined by my mom, which may answer any questions you have about the vast chasm between myself and what the kids call “the program”. I believe this program may exist, but like Abraham says in that other weird part of the Bible (the fuck you talking bout, Jesus?), a great chasm has been fixed between the program and myself.

My mom’s general affect in the face of unsolicited opinions or the expectations of others: are you Jesus? No? Well, then.

And my daughter, a blond miniature of her grandma, is still at the costume-and-crafts stage of religious education, so the Jesus metric does not yet apply. Watching Lily placidly drip yogurt from a spoon onto a pile of clean laundry, finding inexplicable codes etched into our walls like her personal rosetta stone, I am grateful for the months I spent in college maniacally revising the same Hawthorne paper that got me into grad school. The world’s law is no law for her  mind.

The shadow side of this astonishing liberation, though, is the seemingly infinite nature of Lily’s feels. My daughter may not care what you think, but she is not an easygoing child. Her anger and sadness are like a front seat to a little miniature of, I don’t know, Pompeii or the detonation of the atomic bomb. That she essentially gives up on the speech she has in these moments adds to the sense that we are dealing with a natural disaster rather than an interpersonal conflict, to momentarily distract me from the fact that my kid is having some kind of problem. Instead, I want to take notes for a future writing project about this epic disaster to which I am unexpectedly bearing witness.

As it happens, this is how my own feelings work, though I learned early on to invert Lily’s deal. It’s not so much that I care what other people think of me -- I assume it’s bad and, accordingly, have groomed myself to internalize their dislike before they confirm it -- as I accepted early on that there is an objective reality in which the feelings of others matter more than my own. I may not care what people think, but God did, so I came to accept the necessity of accounting for myself while also recognizing that whatever I did, people still wouldn’t approve. Under a lot of witty banter and obsessive attention to detail and unwanted attempts to establish connections with those around me — a practice I would abandon by adolescence in an effort to stay out of everyone’s way — there is, not always but often, a sadness and rage that even my adult body feels too large to maintain.

When I began starving myself in earnest, at fourteen, it was because it seemed like the bobbly kind of blankness I got from not eating approximated an appropriate emotional landscape for a teenage girl in the 1990s. Heavy eyeliner, empty eyes, maybe a sardonic little aside. No huge rage or sadness or fear, all of which I felt more days than not. And so, no subsequent effort to market or explain these feelings, no, Why are you so angry?, closely followed by a put-upon explanation of why that anger wasn’t appropriate, why that anger was actually the problem.

So here is what I do when my daughter goes all Little Boy on our kitchen floor:

I pick her up, because I am physically bigger than her, and I can also see around the edges of her personal disaster. Or, better, I get onto the floor, if that is where she has detonated, and I hold her. I used to fight for eye contact, but I don’t anymore. Instead, I find the part of her body that is moving least — user her arms and around her back — and I loop my own arms around her and hold tight.

Oh honey, I say into her hair or her neck or whatever writhing part of her head ends up closest to my mouth. Oh honey.

I think my favorite part of being human is this: the way the lacks we experience, the things we go around feeling we need, but not getting, can inform what we offer to others, if we let them.

I try to let them. Starting with my kids, but also with the people in my life. The try is important here - I mean “try” the way I try to eat bread in slices rather than anxiously ripping off the crusts, or the way I try to remember to take off my shoes when I come into the house. Which is to say, I mostly fail, but I believe it’s important so I don’t give up.

I try to bear in mind that what seems to me to just be shitty and inconvenient behavior on the part of others might actually be their way of imploding. And I try to pay attention: what might this person need right now, and how much of it and in what form can I give it to them?

It’s fucking hard, man. I’m not good at it. I’m much better at doing this with Lily than with almost anyone else because, as mentioned above, giving a fuck doesn’t come naturally to me. But that’s not the problem of the people I encounter, so I do my best to set it aside.

Oh honey, I say to the know-it-all talking down to me in my office, in my head, eyes on the picture of my daughter I keep on my desk.

Oh honey: to the belligerent patient wanting an antibiotic for her cold, wanting her oxycodone script filled a week early, wanting to talk to a doctor — not just a nurse — right now.

Oh honey: to my husband after a particularly stupid fight, in the moments before I am able to entertain the idea that perhaps I am wrong, not him. You can think someone is wrong, is an asshole even, and you can still try to offer them comfort. No one’s humanity or worth is predicated on their being correct about anything, not even our enemies or spouses. 

Once a kid is identified as having “special needs”, it seems, the inclination is to assume that any behavior that interrupts your dealings with that child implies some sort of extraordinary element of that child. But this need — to know that someone bigger than you is able to see around whatever is consuming you right now, even though you can’t and this feels like the entire world to you — that need is just human. We all need that; some of us just hide it better than others. 

Or, some of us, absent a compelling reason to hide it, recognize that anger and fear as more real than the expectation that we allow other people and their opinions to talk us out of these feelings, or shame us into pretending they aren’t there.  

[kraken-llamas]

Carry On Halloween Headcanons

Because fuck the fact that it’s “only September” that’s why

So just in being their lovely selves, Simon and Baz are already Halloween ready:

Baz is a vampire. And he even looks like a stereotypical vampire. Pale skin, dark hair, widows peak, broody eyes, handsome. It’s all there already. He just needs to slick his hair back and wear a cape. He doesn’t even need fake fangs, he can just use his own.

He’s probably only dress up like a Hollywood vampire out of laziness, and to be a sarcastic little shit. He’d have the cape, and would continuously do dramatic sweeps of it just to be funny. And maybe if he does end up with some of those cheap plastic fangs, he wears them for the hell of it. (the fangs are glow in the dark, because Baz is Extra™️)

And Simon could be a dragon or a demon or a gargoyle or something. He’s got badass wings and a tail already built in, the possibilities are endless. Imagine Simon Snow with a plastic pair of sparkly devil horns on his head, or maybe wearing a dragon onesie to go with his wings and tail.

Imagine Simon being able to go out in public without his extra appendages needing to be spelled invisible. Imagine the freedom he feels in all of him just being totally out there with no judgement because it’s Halloween and nobody gives a fuck. Weirdness is being celebrated, and people keep complimenting him on how real-looking and awesome his costume is and he just can’t stop smiling because “I made the wings myself, actually, thank you” and he’s just so happy that this one night a year exists for him to be unworried about his wings and tail.

And I have this unshakable idea that Penny’s costume would be super detailed and amazing, like something you see posted on Pinterest over and over again because she has to keep up with her effortlessly Halloween-ready friends. So she’d be a really cool Medusa or Wednesday Addams and would give out candy liberally to kids dressed as witches or wizards

Then all of them would go Trick or Treating because Simon doesn’t want Halloween to end and also really wants candy and by the end, he’s got this huge pillow case of candy because his costume is just so cool and Baz gives him anything from his haul he asks for and Penny and Simon are bartering like “I’ll give you all my dark chocolate for your gummies” and “you can have my lollipops if I can have your caramels”

And when it’s over, they’re all passed out on the couch after binging scary movies and Halloween specials, surrounded by candy wrappers and random costume pieces and Simon swears he’s going to save and ration the rest of his candy but it’s all gone by next week

[atamascolily]

What do you do with rogue Jedi?

Jumping ahead to a different scene in my JAT fix-it fic, in which Tor asks the question that someone--anyone--in the New Republic government SHOULD HAVE ASKED Luke, instead of assuming he was an infallible Jedi master whose academy wouldn't be a training ground for empowering mass murderers. (Look, Mon Mothma, I know it's Luke, but still. You're all supposed to be so much smarter than this.)

In spite of the drama accompanying her first visit to the hot springs, Mara found bathing there to be more enjoyable than any of the alternatives currently available on Yavin IV.  Between the relaxed state of her muscles after a long soak and Tor's polite-but-persistent refusal to accept no for an answer, to her amazement, she found herself regularly joining Skywalker, Tor, and occasionally Corran in their evening soak at the end of each day's labors.

Contrary to Tor's initial quip, it took her more than thirty seconds to be comfortable with the nudity--at least when Skywalker was around. After a few repetitions, her initial discomfort faded and she soon regained her confidence--which made Corran's awkwardness all the more amusing on the days he deigned to join them.

From her time in the Imperial Court, Mara was used to being an object of people's attention --often when she wasn't wearing much more than a few scraps of silk as a costume--and functionally invisible, depending on whatever role she played at the time. Time in the bathhouse required an odd mixture of those two opposing skills, both as an observer and a participant. As she grew more comfortable with the practice, she realized that clothing was just another mask she wore, one that it was oddly liberating for her to shed.

In the wider world, she could change how people saw her with a few quick costume alterations. Karrde's second in command dressed differently from the ex-Imperial assassin, who in turn dressed very differently from the Jedi Knight she was becoming (or, if Skywalker was to be trusted, already was). In the secluded realm of the hot springs, she was free of all those roles and their various contradictions, constraints and obligations, and was simply--Mara, whoever that was. She found herself looking forward to those twilight hours in the bathhouse for those unexpected insights that continued to surprise her.

Mostly, Mara floated in the water, dropping all of the day's tensions, as she listened with half an ear to Tor and Luke's endless debates on philosophy and Jedi pedagogy. Her Imperial training led her to value action over talk, but though she was rarely moved enough to interject, she would offer her own opinions and experiences when requested. It was comforting to see that Skywalker was serious enough about this mad venture to <i>think</i> about the details before opening this place up to students and visitors.

"So what are you going to do when things don't go smoothly with your students?" Tor asked one evening. Mara's ears pricked up, and she raised her head out of the water and shook her wet hair out of her face. She wanted to hear this.

"I don't know," Skywalker said. "I've been wondering that myself. I've seen what happens when Jedi training goes wrong. Obi-wan tried to instruct Anakin Skywalker--and blamed himself when Anakin fell to the Dark Side. I'm afraid I might find myself repeating those same mistakes--or making new ones--and history will repeat itself."

"Count on it," Tor said. Mara and Skywalker both stared at her. "Mistakes, I mean. History will take care of itself. Let's consider the numbers. How many students do you plan to train here? How many Jedi Knights do you hope to see in your lifetime? Even with a .001 failure rate, those numbers climb rather quickly--and we've established it doesn't take many Sith Lords to take over the galaxy."

Luke smiled grimly. "From digging through what remains of the old Jedi archives on Coruscant, there never were very many Sith at a time. They tended to regard each other as even more threatening than the Jedi in their quest for ultimate dominion. Unfortunately, they didn't care who else gets caught up in the wake of their power struggles and the Jedi were forced to intervene.

"Now that Vader and the Emperor are dead--the last master and apprentice of the Sith, as far as I know--"

"You can't crush the dark side so easily," Mara interjected. "I came face to face with that in the Core. There will always be those who are susceptible to the abuse of power, and they'll claw their way to the top if they can. If you plan on bringing back the Jedi by studying historical documents, why can't the Sith do the same?"

"Sith or not, the dark side will never go away," Tor agreed. "Darkness is a part of the Force--or, the human condition if you like, which is not separate from the Force--at least until all sentient beings reach enlightenment, and I don't expect that to happen in my lifetime or yours.

"There will be mistakes, no question about it. Some of them will be yours, some of them will be your students'. That's a given. What will you do when that happens?"

"I don't know," Skywalker said again, clearly troubled by the conversation. "I was not the most obedient student, but Yoda let me walk away to make my own mistakes, even when I wasn't ready. And it worked. Should I do the same for my students when we clash?"

"I didn't say that," Tor said. "We're exploring possibilities here. That strategy worked in your case, and it will likely work for some of your students, but not all of them. What will you do then?"

Luke scrunched his face as if he'd been given an exam for which he'd neglected to study. "I don't want to hold anyone here," he said at last. "I want this o be is a place of learning, not a prison camp."

"What if you have a student who goes rogue?" Tor asked. "What then? Will you let them go and wreak havoc on the galaxy the way your father did?"

"That won't happen--"

"You don't know that. You're good but you're not perfect, Skywalker, no one is. Please keep in mind that you aren't running an ordinary school here. You intend to train beings with abilities far beyond the ordinary, with the potential for the great good--and great harm. Are you willing to gamble everything on your own teaching abilities? Ask Artoo or Whistler to calculate the odds of <i>that</i>."

"I know," Skywalker said. "And I'm terrified."

"Good."

[spaceshipsarecool]

Two Words

Happy Birthday @poppyssupergirl​!!! I hope you are having a fabulous day and that you are getting all the cake and ice cream and whatever else you could so desire <3

Here is a little fic for you, I hope you enjoy!

////////////////

Cat tapped her fingers along the edge of her desk, lips pursed in a thin line as her eyes skimmed over the fresh new Superman interview splattered across the front page. It was aimed at her, of course. Metropolis hadn’t had a major incident in a while and Lois had conducted so many interviews with the Man of Steel over the years that there could be no other reason for another one now.

Normally, Cat preferred to keep up with The Daily Planet from a distance, going so far as to have her IT Hobbit install special software on all her devices that would allow her to surf the online articles without adding to the click count, but every year on the anniversary of her departure from that paper she walked to the corner store and purchased a hard copy. And every year it felt like a victory; knowing that despite all the ‘Good Old Boys’ had done to keep her down, she had risen above. Cat had never had Lois’ charm, that something quality that let Lois smooth her way through the ranks, and in those days the Planet’s newsroom hadn’t been the place for a woman like Cat to charge ahead. So she had left and charged ahead on her own, and every year on this date she bought the paper to remind herself of just how far she had come.

This year should have been another sweeping victory, only she had had one too many martinis at the awards show last month and let the details of her ritual slip to Lois, and now instead of looking down at some mundane, hacked-together article from one of the usual lesser beings the paper employed, she was faced with this approximation of what Lois clearly thought was a good joke. And it would have been, Cat could admit that, if the players had been reversed. But in the months since Supergirl had surfaced, Cat had only managed to snag one interview with the girl. One, as compared to the three, no four—it was right there in the print, the entire article dedicated to Superman’s remembrances of his first year wearing the cape—interviews Lois had had in that same span of time. Those early months had secured a place for Lois’s name right next to Superman’s for the rest of time. And Cat was falling behind.

Her phone rang as she reached the last sentence, and she hit the ‘accept’ button before she fully registered who it was.

“Cat, darling, I wanted to congratulate you on your anniversary. Did you get my present?” There was a smugness in that tone, but something else as well, an almost playful quality that very few people would have recognized.

“Really, Lois?” Cat settled the paper on her lap, pulling off her glasses and tossing them back into the pile with the others. “Were you so desperate for my attention that you dragged Superman out of the sky just so you could get one over on me?”

“Please, I’ve been over you plenty of times in the past. Under you too, if memory serves, and neither of us were complaining then.” Despite herself Cat felt the corners of her lips start to twitch, and she hastily spun her chair around in case any of her employees dared to glance into her office. Most of them could read lips, and she didn’t need it to get out that her public rivalry with Lois Lane was actually based on a private, far less antagonistic relationship born from their mutual love of competition. “Besides,” Lois continued, “I hardly had to drag Superman from the sky. He was perfectly happy to do the interview from my bed.”

“I’m sure,” Cat’s voice was still dry, but her movements were gentle as she smoothed down the edge of the paper with her free hand. “And how is that farmboy of yours? Still glad you took up with him now that his more attractive cousin has appeared on the scene?”

“Clark is fine.” Lois ignored the barb. “He says to let you know the article was entirely my idea and to please not take it out on him next time you see each other. He’s still a little afraid of you after the cheese puff incident.”

Cat hmmed, noncommittal in case Clark was listening in. It was always good to let a little of that fear linger, you never knew when you might need an extra superhero in your pocket.

“But seriously, Cat,” Lois’ voice softened. “Congratulations. I looked up CatCo’s stock price last night and it was almost enough to make me wish I had come with you when you asked.”

Cat closed her eyes, her fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around her phone. She had broken every other anniversary she had ever had. Not on her own, but she wasn’t blameless in her four failed marriages. Yet for all that, when it came to this job, to her passion, for all the times when it would have been easier to give up and crawl back to The Daily Planet or any other established newspaper, she never had.

“Thank you, Lois,” she finally allowed a smile to blossom fully across her face. “But you know, as much as I appreciate your little joke with the article, if you really wanted to get me something, you should send Supergirl my way. Just tell her not to fly off with my car again. As impressive as that was, I was hardly in a position to watch the show and afterwards I had to drive myself home from that cliff. Do you have any idea how aggravating that was? I haven’t driven myself anywhere in years.”

Lois’s answering laugh was light, and so different from the way most people dared to act with Cat. “So would you rather she just picked you up and carried you bridal style? In all honesty, she probably needed the car as a buffer. You have been known to be somewhat intimidating on occasion.”

Cat’s smile turned smug even as she pushed on. “If you’re trying to divert me with compliments, Lois, it won’t work. Unless you want your Hanukkah gift this year to be tickets to the revival of Jekyll & Hyde, you better give me something.”

There was an audible gasp of horror on the other end, and Cat rolled her eyes.

“Alright, alright, sitting through that monstrosity once was enough. But I can’t just tell her to go see you. For one, she actually liked that show and wouldn’t understand the dire nature of your threat. And two, you don’t really want me to make it easy on you, do you? The Cat Grant I know and love wouldn’t be able to appreciate an interview with Supergirl unless she had to work for it herself. I’ll give you a hint, that’s all.” Lois paused, but Cat stayed quiet, letting the silence carry her waiting judgement. “Ok, then. If you want to talk to Supergirl, all you have to do, is think ‘mushrooms.’”

///////////////

“Mushrooms,” Cat muttered to herself as she slashed her red pen liberally over the CatCo magazine proofs. It had been a week since the phone call. Seven days, and she had been stubbornly refusing to act on something as ridiculous as the ‘hint’ Lois had so graciously give her. In truth, she wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t an elaborate prank, a continuation of Lois’s article joke, but as her pen hovered over yet another secondhand account of Supergirl’s heroics, Cat felt herself wavering.

Sales were still up, but Cat wasn’t so naive as to think that would last. Humans had an unbelievable capacity to adjust and explain away the spectacular, and without regular reminders to stop and smell the roses, as it were, even Supergirl would become old hat. Soon, simply relaying Supergirl’s activities wouldn’t be good enough anymore. Cat needed more.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way, Lois, but so help me god…” Cat put down the pen after one final stroke, already half-regretting her decision even as her mind was moving on to the next step.

It couldn’t be as simple as just eating the damn things, but Cat was hardly desperate enough to dress up in a costume and do some elaborate dance on the top of her building. She could have someone at The Tribune write an article or two about mushrooms, but what if Supergirl went to that person instead of Cat? What was it that would really get Supergirl’s attention? A mushroom garden? A giant mushroom light beamed into the sky like that thoroughly inefficient contraption they used in Gotham?

Two hours, an impulse jewelry purchase, and several google searches on mushroom costumes later, Cat was finally willing to admit that she was overthinking it. Sometimes her own brilliance got in the way when she was trying to function on a simpler level, and when that happened, she was never any good at re-regulating herself. She needed to talk to someone else with a fresh mind. Someone who would think the same way as Supergirl. Someone with that same light and smile. Someone… Cat’s eyes fell across her assistant working diligently at her desk outside Cat’s office.

“Kiera!” The name was out of her mouth in an instant, and it was only another more before the girl was standing in front of her, attentive and eager as always.

“Miss Grant?”

Cat tilted her head, ignoring the small bolt of pleasure that shot through her core at the sight, and she forced herself to assess Kara critically. She really was the perfect person to ask about this; Kara tried to see good in everyone, which in its own way was almost as inspiring as any number of Supergirl’s traits. If Cat thought about it more, she was even sure she would be able to think of several other overlapping qualities… like those arms, for instance, and what Cat assumed they would look like if Kara ever took off those hideous cardigans.

“Supergirl, Cat. Focus!” She pulled her mind back to the task at hand.

“Tell me, Kiera, what does someone like you think of when you hear the word, ‘mushrooms?’”

Kara’s fingers, which had been drifting loosely over her ipad, ready to take notes or call up whatever information Cat might need, froze, and Kara’s eyes widened beyond what should have been humanly possible as a blush started to spread across her face.

Well, that was interesting. Cat leaned in and studied Kara more intently—only to figure out what was causing that reaction of course, not for any other reason. The only thing she could think of was that the fungi might be part of some new slang she wasn’t aware of, but she was at least fairly confident that between the two of them, if either of them was to be out of the loop on idioms it would be Kara. So it couldn’t be that, but then what?

“Kiera, did you hear me. I asked-”

“Noonan’s makes an excellent Three-Mushroom Pie,” Kara blurted out, her blush somehow deepening. “I know it’s not exactly what you’re used to eating, but I would be pleased to procure it for your lunch. I mean…” Kara faltered, ducking her head as she realized that she had cut Cat off mid-sentence. “I-if you wanted, that is, Miss Grant…”

Cat opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat as Kara risked a glance up, piercing blue eyes searching Cat’s face in a mixture of nervousness and hope, and suddenly there was a fluttering butterfly feeling in her stomach and she felt the tips of her fingers twitch with some inane desire to reach out.

“Stop it, Cat. You’re just getting excited about Supergirl. Now focus!” she inwardly berated herself. She was more than capable of admitting that her assistant was beautiful, and even that on occasion Kara seemed to possess an alarming astuteness and competence that was oddly appealing, but Cat was a fully grown, independent woman in complete control of her facilities. And those facilities did not allow for her to get sidetracked when a story was on the line.

“I suppose that doesn’t sound awful.” Cat found her voice, waving her hand dismissively and busying herself by looking down at non-existent work. She would give it a few days. Perhaps she had been wrong about food being too simple after all. So just a few days to try this approach… a few days that had nothing to do with the breathy “Yes, Miss Grant. Thank you!” Kara offered on her way out.

///////////////////

Kara was doing it again, looking at her, and it was making Cat feel both very warm and entirely too frantic at the same time. It was not at all a customary state for her to be in, yet she couldn’t seem to be able to bring herself to do anything to stop it.

In the month since that first meal, Cat had had nothing but different mushroom themed lunches every workday since. She had meant to switch to a new approach after four days, five at the most, but that plan had been thwarted by the growing scourge in her side that was Kara Danvers. When day five had come and gone with no Supergirl, Cat had been on the verge of ordering her customary lettuce wrap the next day, only to have Kara flounce in with her eyes all aglow.

And they had been glowing, or at least, with Kara standing in the light just so they seemed to be, and Cat’s inquiring mind had gotten so caught up in trying to figure out how that was happening, that she had taken the paper Kara had handed her and nodded along with her words without realizing what she was doing. It was only later—once she had firmly decided that it was the light reflecting off the new crystal drinking glasses she had acquired that had given Kara that extra shine—that she had bothered to read the paper and realize that it was a lunch schedule for the next three months.

Which was how she had gotten here, spending another lunch trying to choke down a mushroom souffle, while Kara was once again not so subtly peering at her through the glass walls with a beaming smile painted across her face.

“Just tell her you want something else. She’s your assistant, dammit. It’s easy.” But was it? Because Kara seemed very pleased with herself. In fact, each time she delivered Cat’s lunch tray her demeanor was akin to what Cat imagined a caveman must look like after successfully procuring some offering to bring back to his mate. Not that Cat thought she was Kara’s mate, or that Kara thought that, but Cat was all about encouraging women, and in the age of a female superhero, how could she squash the blossoming confidence that came each time Cat accepted another dish?

Especially because she was getting to see glimpses of a rare pride in Kara as well. Each day the tray became slightly more elaborate, and where once her food was delivered in a tidy, but simple method, now her napkins were folded into beautiful origami birds, and out of nowhere her metal utensils developed unique and intricate patterning that changed every day. When Cat had commented on the beautiful work last week, Kara’s shoulders had pushed back, and instead of the shy blush Cat had been expecting, she had been faced with an almost regal—a descriptor she never would have thought to apply to her assistant before—nod as Kara took the compliment head on.

Not that any of that really mattered. Kara coming into her own was a nice bonus, but Supergirl was the primary objective, and just because Cat had been willing to switch to a new tactic after a few days, didn’t mean this one wasn’t still working in a way that she wasn’t aware of.

Glancing at her assistant again, Cat’s stomach lurched as she realized she had paused too long between bites and a small frown had formed on Kara’s lips. Hastily, she scooped up another forkful and shoved it in her mouth. It did the trick, Kara’s face smoothing out again, and Cat had just a moment to be grateful she had caught it before The Crinkle(™) could make an appearance, when her actions caught up with her.

“It’s just because of Supergirl,” she tried. “Come on, Cat. You know all about displacement. Supergirl hadn’t come yet, so you’re focusing all your attentions on Kara.” She nodded to herself, putting every ounce of her remaining authority into accepting that argument as truth.

But she still needed to get through the rest of the meal. While objectively she could admit that the dish was good, her body was craving variety, and there was no way she could finish this. And then Kara would think she didn’t lik- and then that could throw off the Supergirl plan.

“Kiera!” Cat yelled the name before Kara could frown again, and used the second it took for Kara arrive in front of her to compose herself.

“Miss Grant?”

“There’s another plate around somewhere, isn’t there?” She had a nagging feeling she was about to make things worse, but Cat brushed it aside. Logically this should work. And Cat always went with logic over something as flawed and misleading as emotion. “I need you to work late tonight, but we may not have time for a dinner break later. I’ve seen how much you eat, grab a plate and take some of this so I won’t have to listen to your stomach growl later on.”

Ok yes, Cat saw it now. It was definitely a mistake. Her words, while they did get her out of eating the entire thing, could almost be construed as caring, and Kara was… Kara was… Cat swallowed. Kara was looking at her like she was the sun and the moon and the stars, and for a brief moment, that expression was almost enough to make Cat believe that she was.

/////////////////////

Cat’s initial assessment that it had been a mistake turned out to be true, only somehow it was a mistake Cat kept making again and again over the next two months. Because Kara was smart, and caring, and funny. When Kara laughed, in the almost privacy of what had become their shared lunch ritual, it reminded Cat of Lois; the kind of carefree laughter she shared with her once lover, now closest friend, that was without fear or ulterior motive.

But Kara was also shy, she still blushed if Cat caught her at the right moment. And she was strong, standing up to Cat and pushing back more than she ever had before as she soaked in all Cat had to teach her. And she was hurt. Cat didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before, the sadness that lurked behind Kara’s eyes, echos of a loss Kara could never quite get over. Each time she saw it, it pulled at Cat, part of her wishing Kara had never had to experience whatever it was that had caused her such pain, while another part, the selfish part, was almost glad for it because of the role it had played in turning Kara into this complex, utterly astonishing person she was today.

Which was why Cat had to let her go, because clearly Kara was ready for bigger and better things than being Cat’s assistant. It definitely wasn’t related to the way Cat’s heart fluttered when Kara graced her with a smile, or the very unprofessional thoughts that had recently had the audacity to invade her dreams.

“And it’s distracting you from Supergirl,” she reminded herself, watching impatiently as the numbers on the elevator panel rose, bringing her closer and closer to her destination. “You remember Supergirl, don’t you Cat? Alien from another planet? Flies around? Still hasn’t given you a second interview?”

Cat did remember Supergirl, for all that nowadays Cat couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was Supergirl that shared some similarities with Kara, and not the other way around.

Because it was Kara’s smile on Supergirl’s face that news cameras captured after an incident. It was Kara’s kindness that Supergirl shared when performing the more mundane tasks, such as rescuing a lost puppy or helping someone with their groceries. And it was Kara’s determination that Supergirl copied when she threw herself into a fire or chased after a rogue alien.

The elevator dinged and Cat stepped off, ignoring the sudden burst of activity in the bullpen and zeroing on the empty desk where Kara was usually waiting to greet her when Cat returned from these early afternoon board meetings. Frowning, Cat stepped closer, heels clicking slightly faster than normal along the office floor.

Today was the last day of the three month schedule Kara had so carefully put together, and while it was possible that Kara had another three month plan ready to go, somehow Cat didn’t think so. The day was marked with a red ‘X’ on the list, the only day without a clear description of the meal, and when Cat had asked, Kara had just offered a small grin and told Cat she would have to wait. And Cat had waited, so where was Kara? Surly she wouldn’t…

“I’m on the balcony, Miss Grant.” And yes, there she was, peeking her head around the balcony doors just as Cat reached her office. “I thought we’d eat out here, it’s such a beautiful day.”

“It is,” but Cat wasn’t looking at the sky, her vision entirely taken up by the sight of Kara in a sleeveless blue dress. Had she changed for this lunch? Cat would have remembered if Kara had been wearing that this morning. Cat always remembered when employees violated the dress code, and for all her musings about getting rid of Kara’s cardigans, there was no way those arms were legal.

While she had been thinking, her feet had chosen to continue carrying her forward. Kara, however, waited until the last moment to move back, bringing Cat close enough to brush against her chest, and ‘brazen’ flashed through her mind.

Rather than comment, Cat pushed on, accepting the seat Kara pulled out for her and looking down at the ornate table setting and covered dish on her plate.

“Last one,” she reminded herself, as out loud she asked, “what’s on the menu for today?”

Kara bent over Cat’s shoulder to lift the lid and Cat bit her lip, refusing to give in to the sudden impulse to turn her head and lean into Kara’s side.

“This is something from my home, or as close to it as I could make with… local ingredients.”

“You cooked for me?” Cat barely registered that Kara hadn’t given her the name, or that the strange meal in front of her wasn’t anything she recognized. Except for the mushrooms. Those were distinct. They were always so distinct.

“I did.”

Cat felt a smile forming, and she shoved it back down before it could reach the surface, gesturing almost frantically to the seat across from her and blurting out, “I have something for you!”

She breathed a sigh of relief when Kara moved to comply, the space giving her just enough fresh air to clear her mind. Reaching into her purse, Cat pull out her phone and set it on the table when it got in her way, noticing as she did that she had several missed calls from Lois she would have to return later.

And when she did she would have words for Lois. So many, many words.

It took another few seconds of fumbling, but then Cat’s hand closed around the item she was looking for and she lifted it out. She hadn’t meant to do this, had been planning on talking to Kara about a promotion in a week or so once she had time to find an appropriate appreciation gift, but Cat needed it to happen sooner.

Because Kara looked gorgeous, and happy, and she had cooked for Cat, and all of that was causing Cat to have some very un-boss-like feelings that had no business being a part of her ‘nab-a-Supergirl’ plan.

So Cat was lucky that the impulse buy—the jewelry she had custom ordered a little over three months ago—had finally arrived, and that because she had been in a rush this morning, she had simply shoved the box into her purse to do something with later. If everything had been made to her specifications, it would be a small silver bracelet with the Supergirl crest inlaid delicately in the metal, interspersed with the CatCo logo and a number of mushrooms from around the world, each one unique and different. She had been planning on wearing it herself on her balcony when working late as a call sign for the hero, but right now it was all she had, and after all Kara had done for her, she deserved something to mark her promotion.

Besides, it would look beautiful on Kara. In fact, now that Cat thought about it, the understated jewelry was almost perfect for her, and Cat almost couldn’t believe that she had ever thought it could be for anyone else. Kara followed Supergirl just as closely as Cat, and while Cat still didn’t know what mushrooms were supposed to mean to Supergirl, they clearly did mean something to Kara. And then there was the CatCo logo, and well, that was obvious.

“Miss Grant?” Kara tilted her head, watching Cat with an intensity that made Cat’s hand almost falter as she handed the box over.

Not trusting herself to speak just yet, Cat tore her eyes away before the deliberate movements of Kara’s fingers could pull her in deeper. Her gaze fell across her phone just as a text message from Lois came in, and she read it with the sound of the box opening in the background.

Lois Lane: Answer your damn phone, Cat!!!! I thought Kryptonian mushrooms were used to symbolize friendship, but Clark just corrected me and apparently they’re romantic! To anyone who actually grew up there, they would be…

The message preview ran out of space, but Cat didn’t need to open it up to read the full thing as the pieces fell into place. Because this had started with Lois. With Lois and her insufferable hint, and ever since it hadn’t been Supergirl who had become closer to Cat, but Kara who had been bringing her food, and sharing her meals, and treating Cat almost like a partner rather than a boss.

It was also Lois who had given the world most of the known information on Kryptonians, and Cat had read every single thing Lois had ever written. Like the interview where Superman explained that in Kryptonian culture, once an acceptable mate had been identified, it was customary to enter into a courtship period that lasted approximately three months. How that ritual often involved showing each other ways in which you could provide for one another, such as through the giving of food or knowledge, and how eventually the goal was to share in those things equally. And how when a successful courtship period ended and the two houses joined, they exchanged bracelets instead of rings.

Bracelets, exactly like the one Cat had just given to Kara.

All Cat had to do was act like she didn’t understand what she had just done, was go on with her promotion speech and have that be the end of it. It would be simple, a misunderstanding, but when she lifted her eyes and took in the sight of Kara holding the bracelet in her hands, lips parted slightly and face flushed in wonder, everything else mentled away.

There were denials, and half-formed arguments, and all the other lies Cat had been telling herself for much longer than just these past three months. But looking at Kara now, with the weight of all of that pressing against her, Cat knew that underneath it all there was only one truth.

“Kara,” she said the name purposefully, hearing the sharp intake of breath as Kara looked up at her. Slowly, carefully, Cat picked up her fork and speared the largest mushroom she could find on her plate. “Thank you for this meal. In return, do you accept my offering, Kara, Last Daughter of Krypton?”

There was no pause, only a single, blinding smile that Cat returned with one of her own.

“I do.”

[yi-dashi-a]

-- Eternal Sword Yi

“|Will you ever be satisfied, young man?|”

“|Probably not.|”

“|But you have near twenty swords in front of you now. Last time it didn’t seem like that many.|”

Meticulously, almost with obsessive detail, did the masked man lay his collection out in front of him. All swords were ordered by their length, creating a circular wave about his seated posture. He regarded the merchant before him with a flourish of his hand, lazily brushing his styled forelock away from his face.

“Actually, it is twenty-seven.” He replied, smirking, “Why do you think a man would sit here, every day, seasons in and out, if he was satisfied with the size of his sword collection?”

“It just astounds me,” The man inclined his head with a hand upon his chin, “firstly that you’d want so many blades. Secondly, it’s how you must carry them all around. I never see you do it. I’m intrigued.”

“I have my ways.” The swordsman laughed, “And always more room for more swords. Especially named ones. Always named ones.” But even if he kept his outward jocularity, inwardly his mind trended towards one single thing. One single fascination, “… You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the Sacred Sword, would you?”

“The Sacred Sword.” He puzzled a moment, “It’s a myth, isn’t it? Something from mythology?”

“You would think that, but it is quite real. Very real. It is the keystone to this world. The thing that keeps it from tearing asunder. Without it, the gale would blow unchecked, and the mountains would crumble into the lakes. It is metal, forged from stone hard and ancient -- A thirsty blade quenched in a river of stars.” He spoke the verses with great bravado, using his hands to liberally explain his points. Yet the merchant, one of a few faces who had gathered about him, seemed to frown at his story,

“And you speak of it like it’s a fairy tale.” Crossing his arms, he huffed, “What evidence do you have that it’s real at all?”

“Once again, I’d offer that no sane man would spend his life chasing fantasies.”

“Then that just means you’re insane.” The growing crowd gave a chuckle, “Insane enough to carry an armory around with you. Once again, I’ll ask you if you’ve ever seen it. Touched it.”

“I wish I had…” The masked man gave a hefty sigh, slumping his head into his hands, “I would love to hold it. Just once. Just to feel the power, and to examine the metal. To know that everything I’ve been able to gather about it is true, and that the techniques I develop in the wake of the Sword gain their power from the cut in reality it leaves behind. I would hate my techniques to be just my own strange martial art. If it were a woman, I would make it my wife -- a perfect match we are -- and I would love her for all of my days. She would be beautiful like no other, and powerful beyond measure. A beautiful weapon. How I’d like to hold her…”

“Insane, then.”

“...Maybe. But you feel the wind upon your face, don’t you? You see the clouds move in the sky? You feel the dead quiet before the storm. And even more so; you don’t see the wispy forms of ghosts walking this world freely, do you? Are your nights marred by the wailing of the dead? That is the Sword that makes these things. The Sword protects Heaven from Here, and Here from Heaven. That is it. Do you have another explanation for these things?”

The crowd was unamused in their entirety. Maybe some of them sat in awe of his statements, but many began to amble away. Like a street preacher amongst heathens, he was cast aside. The merchant man still remained though, bless his heart.

“… Were you dropped on your head as a babe, young man?”

“I don’t know.” Yi shrugged, “I of course can’t remember when I was a baby. But I know I speak truths, and I will trade blades for blades, or blades for information. That’s why I’m here. Secret seeking, you might say. Trying to find out how I can get to the edge of the world, so that I may gaze upon the Sacred Beginning and End. But the winds blow me betwixt here and there, and it is fate that decides whether or not I get to see the Revelation.”

“You’re… at least some sort of street poet.”

“I’ll take that as a…” Before he could finish the thought with a bow of his slouched back, upon the bare features of his face did he feel the winds shift somewhat. Out of nowhere the breeze snapped to the opposite direction. No one else reacted, but he was alert, casting his mauve eyes from place to place. It may have been nothing, but he’d grown so attuned to the presence of unusual winds during his years long search for the Sword. Even if it pained him to leave just after he had settled himself, his quest wouldn’t complete itself. The merchant cocked a brow, but he wasn’t to keep his bemused expression for long, “Do you feel that? I have to go. It was nice to talk to you, though!”

“What?”

“Buh-bye!”

He kicked his legs out and upwards, his levitation taking him up in front of wide, amazed eyes. The swords that circled him rose along with his form, their metal features flashing into vibrant golds as they merged into six similar weapons, surrounding the centerpiece that was his own personal blade.

He whipped his mask away with a half smirk, fastening it to his belt with its yellow ribbons. With that, and he did it only for show of course, he did a mighty jump that hurled him into a back flip beyond anything a normal man could accomplish. All of his swords melded into one, and on a single foot did he land upon his blade as it floated a good meter off the ground. With a brisk wave of his hand he was off, smiling with child-like glee as he followed the currents of air atop his flying weapon.

“I-Is he for real..?” He heard someone comment as he took to the sky, the yards of silk to his costume billowing out behind him, but he wasn’t of any mind to hear a response.