#like it's it healthy? no. but considering the people involved it's leagues better than any other options

[magpiedraws]

I just realised I did not post these here whoops

Happy belated valentine's day I guess

[trashcankitty12]

Winifred “Winnie” Scofield

Youngest Child of Helia and Morgan Scofield

Magical Chimera

-Winne is the youngest child and only daughter of Helia and Morgan Scofield. 

-Like her brother, she inherited her mother’s ears. Or rather, she has a slight point to her ears. She also tries hard to be in touch with her elven heritage.

-She’s got dark hair like her father that she keeps in a short bob and has gray eyes like he does.

-Winne’s 12 and goes to the Callistan Preparatory Academy. (Which is just a fancy middle school. One where she’s constantly rolling her eyes because of how many of her classmates want to believe they’re better than other people because it's mostly rich kids and she’s only going there because her Great Uncle Saladin and General Grandma went there.)

-(Yes, she and her brother call their Dad’s mom General Grandma. It’s a loving term of endearment and it makes the old woman roll her eyes and laugh. So it’s perfect.)

-Her birthday is December 1st. She’s a Dragon by the Magical Dimension’s standards and a Sagittarius by Earth standards.

-Winnie’s into art, but not to the degree that her brother and father are. It’s a fun hobby and a great way for her to vent some of her frustrations, but it’s not a passion for her like it is for them.

-She really loves making little doodles and often creates mini-comics that she sends to friends to cheer them up.

-Her real passion, currently, is in nature, specifically the animals. 

-Endangered animals tend to be the heart of many of her projects; essays, protests (that her brother helps her set up), videos, photos, and drawings. Basically, anything she turns in at school that doesn’t have a specific topic, it’s probably going to be about a rare or endangered animal.

-Elliot is so proud of his little sister, and is always the first to jump into her campaigns.

-Morgan and Helia are too, often using their own expertise and their influence to assist. (Though they try to stay in the background as much as possible because they don’t want their kids to think they’re taking over their own projects.)

-Winnie has a menagerie of pets that come in and out of the home. (Usually until they are healthy enough to go, but they tend to come back for love.) 

-Helia’s not as okay with the pets as Morgan is, mostly because they tend to just ‘show up’ without warning and oftentimes he ends up getting jumpscared by various animals and insects.

-Morgan finds this all hilarious. Elliot is fairly chill about the animals, so long as leave his cameras alone. 

-Winnie’s like her cousin Etta, physical and ready to fight if she has too. (Though unlike Etta, she doesn’t look for fights, she tries to hold off unless she’s pushed or someone else is in danger.)

-She loves to sword-fight like Etta and has even joined her in the Junior Sword Fighting League. General Grandma is so proud and has even gifted her her own specialty sword. (And Grandpa Palladium is considering getting her her own armor from his family.)

-Winnie has magic, natural-based magic, but she’s not sure if she’s going to become a fairy. Her wings haven’t come in and she’s already 12… So… What’s up? Is she going to be a late winger like her Aunt Flora and Cousin Etta? Or is she just… Not a fairy?

-Her magic isn’t quite that strong yet, but she is getting there. (Typically she works best with runic magic than core magic. But it is what it is.)

-Like any good little sister, Winnie torments her older brother every time he has a romantic interest over, usually by embarrassing him. (Sometimes Elliot just plays along, sometimes he gets her back.)

-(There’s an ongoing prank war within their house; one that sometimes even involves the parents.)

-Winnie’s into comfort when it comes to her clothing options and loves oversized hoodies, soft shirts, and pajama pants. (Though will quickly swap to jeans when going for a hike. After all, safety first.)

-She and her brother can’t play board games or card games together unless they’re on the same side/playing co-op. (Fights break out.)

-(Poppa Salvador thinks it's funny, making him think of his dynamic with Griffin when they were younger. Morgan’s not impressed.)

-Winifred isn’t fond of her school, it’s been said before. But she does have her core group of friends and her clubs. (Outside the Junior Sword Fighting League of course.)

-She’s in the Environmental Club, part of a comic book club, and helps out with a volunteer project with their school. (And has plans to revamp it once she’s met with the principal.)

-Winnie is also the one who organizes minor rebellions in her school. (Dress coding issues, the sit-in to stop the destruction of the hiking trail behind the school, the refusal to do school work when it came out about the athletes getting free passes, etc.)

-(Her parents are just glad she hasn’t followed Valkyrie’s advice to burn down the science lab like she’d done once.)

-Winnie’s favorite classes are her Natural Science classes (biology, anatomy, geology, botany).

-Least favorite? Her Writing classes. And History classes.

-Don’t get her wrong, she loves history, she just doesn’t like the way they’re taught, especially since she has family directly involved with some of the major historical incidents that have happened the last few decades and knows the classes taught are full of bullshit and speculation.

-In fact she often gets into arguments with her history teachers because she corrects them. Yes, she’s that child.

-Morgan is so proud of her daughter. Helia is too, but couldn’t she find a nicer way to call out her teachers instead of flat-out calling them idiots?

-If her wings come in, she’ll be going (hopefully) to Alfea and focusing her studies on Environmentalism. However if they don’t, she’s unsure.

-Part of her thinks she could go to Cloud Tower, but she doesn’t feel like she’s a witch. After all, they use core magic more than runic magic, same as fairies. And unlike Elementals, she doesn’t draw directly from an elemental center.

-She doesn’t want to go to the same school as her brother because she’s not as into art. 

-Truthfully she’s thinking of studying more deeply into her elven roots, but that would require some research and some lengthy discussions with her Grandpa Palladium’s family.

-Fingers crossed.

-She’s not sure really what she wants to do when she’s grown, but she’s certain of one thing; animals are going to be at the forefront and she’s definitely going to be an activist of some kind.

[arvandus]

Touch (pt 4)

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ only please!  Drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, fluff, pining, slow burn, eventual emotional SMUT. *please pay attention to the chapter tags as these warnings will apply at different times*

Synopsis: When you first joined the LOV to lend your healing quirk, Dabi  terrified you.  Not interested in attachments, he wanted to keep it  that way.  That is, until he needs your help. (Slow burn, soft Dabi).

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters.

Recommended Chapter Song:

Bloodstream by Stateless

Part 1  Part 3

Artwork credit to @hellowon31​ on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)

Part 4 - Wounded

Later that day, while Dabi sat in his room nursing his migraine and checking his phone for a response from Giran, he heard a quiet knock at his door and the sound of footsteps fading away. He opened the door and found a white takeout bag.

Curiously, he picked up the item and looked inside to see tonkatsu ramen and a pair of chopsticks with some napkins, along with another bottle of water for good measure.  He scoffed.

You brought him ramen.

Not one to turn away free food, Dabi brought the item into the solitude of his room and removed the lid. The smell hit his nose and he inhaled deeply.  He hadn’t eaten anything all day, locking himself in his room to avoid the others while his persistent nausea made all foods sound unappealing.  He drank water from the tap when he felt like he needed it, ironically hearing your scolding in his head each time he did so.  His head and body aches were definitely reduced, but his mind felt off, different.  He was grateful Shigaraki hadn’t given him any assignments today.  He’d probably just incinerate anyone he came across, starting with Crusty Hands himself.

As Dabi ate, he mulled over his situation.  Having to request your help for his burn was bad enough.  But letting you see him like this?  Broken by the weight of his addiction?  It left a sour taste in his mouth, hampering his enjoyment of his noodles.

He didn’t have much choice – he knew he needed your medical care, so turning you away wasn’t really an option.  Risking infection would only make a bad situation worse, and it was impeding his ability to get back to work.  He hated being stuck in here, alone with his thoughts.  So, when he let you in earlier, he had hoped you’d patch him up and leave, his hostile mood and harsh words a muzzle for any questions you may have felt tempted to ask. 

Dabi should have known better.  Now you were involved in supplying and managing his medication – something he would have never asked for. Against his better judgment, you managed to entwine yourself deeper into his life, even if it was for just a short time.  How was it that he kept losing control of the situation?

It was your fault.  It had to be.  You had managed to navigate him like charted waters even though he never gave you a map.  In hindsight, Dabi was honestly impressed; he knew he wasn’t an easy person to get along with, especially when he was in such a dark place. 

Then again, maybe he did withhold some of his cruelty, despite how horrible he was feeling earlier. He knew he could get downright nasty when he really wanted to, his words honed to kill.  If he truly hadn’t wanted you here, then things would have gone very differently.  That thought was even more disconcerting – that for some reason, he felt the need to behave himself around you in some unspoken desire to keep you around.

It must have been the desperation.  That was it. Maybe he was hoping that if he stayed in your good graces, that you’d use your quirk on him and free him from his misery.  Even now Dabi wanted to feel your hands on him again, to feel your power seep like a mist into all of the dark parts of him.  The more you touched him, the harder it was for him to get the sensation of you off his skin and out of his head.  Maybe he really was becoming addicted to you.  Why else would he have even let you in? Why else would he have let you stay?

He recalled you reaching out your hand at one point as if to touch him and it had made his pulse race with anticipation as he pretended not to notice.  But you had changed your mind and Dabi was left with heavy disappointment, as he tried to understand why.  Did you have fears of your own? Of getting too close to him?  If you were smart, you would trust those instincts.

Maybe he should reach out to his villain connections to find someone with a healing quirk.  It’d expedite his recovery and reduce his exposure to you.  It wasn’t cheap, though… healing quirks cost a pretty penny in the underground.  They were rare enough to come by in hero society and even more so in the villain network.  Not many healers followed a life of crime – they naturally lacked a propensity for violence that the lifestyle required.  Even if a healer could be found, could he afford it? Probably not. 

Plus, there was the fact that he wasn’t much loved, even by the dredges of society. He had built a reputation for himself, long before he crossed paths with Shigaraki.  He had no patience for stupid people with nothing but shortsightedness and lustful violence to offer, which turned out to be nearly everyone.  His list of those willing to work with him was unsurprisingly short.

Dabi downed the warm, salty broth and set the container down to stare at the last bits of seasoning stuck to the inside, trying to read his future like tea leaves.  They provided no answers, of course.

“Fuck.” He muttered.

Dabi’s troubled thoughts were interrupted by a ‘ding’ on his phone.  His hand betrayed his composure, snatching the technology up swiftly.

It was a text message from Giran.  Fucking finally.  Maybe the universe wasn’t so fucked up after all.

Dabi’s eyes glossed over the words quickly, his mouth setting into a thin line.  Giran had a seller he could hook him up with, but it would cost him, of course.  And the worst part was that Dabi would have to wait.  Giran was out of town and wouldn’t be back for at least a week.

Until then, Dabi was at your mercy.  Luckily for him, mercy was something you had in ample supply.  If only it wasn’t wrapped nicely in a pretty face and an addictive touch.

It looked like the universe wasn’t done fucking with him.

By the time evening rolled around, the pills you had given him were already beginning to wear off. Dabi expected as much.  So, when you knocked on his door to change his bandages and check on him, he couldn’t help but breathe a small, secret sigh of relief.  If he was stuck with you for the next couple of weeks, then he might as well take whatever help he could to make himself a functioning human being.  He could hold out until then.

When he opened the door for you, you greeted him with a smile that immediately made him question his resolve. Were you happy to see him? Fucking why?

You watched him closely, trying to look for a healthy color on his cheeks, and happily noted the empty food container still sitting on his desk.  It was an impromptu decision on your part – you were out getting food for yourself, and his words had echoed back in your head.  It had sounded good at the time and buying for two was just as easy as buying for one.  Plus, you had a feeling he hadn’t left his room all day, and you didn’t recall seeing a mini fridge in it.

Dabi noticed your happy glow and followed your gaze to see what you were looking at.  He rolled his eyes when he realized.  He probably should have said thank you once he noticed. That was what normal people did, at least.  But he didn’t want to draw attention to it.

You began your typical round of questions.  “How are you feeling?” you asked.

“I’m gonna need more of those pills.” Dabi replied as he removed his shirt for you.  The one light in his room was already too bright for him. Behind him, he could hear the drip drip of his bathroom faucet, each ping on the porcelain like a hammer behind his eyes.  At least it was evening now, which meant he could open his window to the cold night air to counter his elevated body heat.

You had begun unpacking the supplies you needed to treat him but paused to turn and look at him with wide eyes. “Really??” you asked in disbelief. “I just gave you some this morning.”

“What can I say, doll. They took the edge off for a bit, but that’s about it.” He replied with a shrug.

You pursed your lips in thought as you eyed the man in front of you.  He didn’t seem as bad as this morning, thankfully.  But you could tell he still wasn’t his usual self.  You doubted that any amount of pills you gave him would fix him entirely, though.  No doubt his body was feeling the effects of switching to something different after what was probably years of use.  Most importantly, the pills you had on hand simply weren’t as strong as what he normally took. 

You had considered this, of course.  In fact, much of your day was spent trying to figure out your next course of action for Dabi. He was a League member after all, so if he couldn’t function for some reason or another then he technically fell under your responsibility.  He needed to get back onto what he was taking before.  Fortunately for him, your own connection was incredibly reliable and had better access to medical supplies than most.  It just so happened they would be able to get the same medications he was taking.  The downside was that it would take a little bit of time – there was a lot of fake paperwork to create in order to get access, since it was a high-class opioid. Until then, you had to keep him above water.

“Fine,” you said begrudgingly.  “I’ll give you a few more.” You took the bottle out of your bag and handed him three pills, hoping they would get him through the night at least.  He took them from your hand, the heat of his fingers against your palm lingering like the kiss of sunlight on a leaf.  You froze for a moment at the sensation, before realizing that you were standing there with your empty hand out.  You took your hand away, embarrassed.  You probably looked like an idiot…

You pushed on, ignoring your overly critical brain.  “Please try to wait it out as much as you can before you take-”

Your words were cut short as you watched Dabi down the pills dry, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.  He caught your eyes in his own with a challenging, mischievous glow swimming in their cerulean depths.

You frowned at him. “You’re ridiculous.” You huffed.  “You might want to try stretching those out a bit more.  If I run out, you’ll be up shit creek.”

Dabi grinned.  “Don’t worry, doll.  I got a hold of my middleman earlier.  He’ll be hooking me up in a week, then I can pay you back.”

You were stunned by his offer to reimburse you.  You felt strangely… appreciated?

But damn it – he was too efficient for his own good. You hadn’t expected him to find a replacement so fast.  Suddenly, you began to second guess your actions.  Maybe you should have checked with him first…

Anxiety crept in like a fog. Would he be mad that you took matters into your own hands?  Half-truths fell from your mouth while your mind struggled to reach a decision.

“Oh, um… it’s okay.   I already put a request in for more of these since I figured I’d be treating you for a bit.  I know they’re not as good as yours, but they’re better than nothing.  They’ll be available for pick-up in a few days.”

Now it was Dabi’s turn to be surprised.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said as he looked away from you.  It was the first time he’d ever broken his gaze with you first.

“Well, I didn’t know how long you’d need my help with this, and I didn’t want you to suffer.” You said. You noticed his sudden avoidance and guilt filled you.  Did he feel ashamed?  Humiliated? Did you wound his pride somehow?  You didn’t even tell him all the facts, yet…

You bit your lip nervously, and an awkward silence begin to make its way through the room.  Dabi picked up on it immediately, of course.

He looked back at you, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.  “What?”

“Um, well… I didn’t just get more of these pills.” You explained.  “I talked to my supplier and was able to put in a request for the ones you were taking too.  But they’re harder to get, so it might take longer before they’re available.”

“What?” Dabi repeated, his surprise deepening.  His blue eyes widened slightly.  This was so much more than he had ever expected from you and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.  Annoyed? Flattered?  Embarrassed?  Dabi never felt embarrassed.  Then again, he’d never had someone look out for him the way you did these past couple of days.  There had to be a catch.  Did you want something from him?  What could he possibly offer you?

“Why would you do that?” he asked, his words laced with mistrust.

You fidgeted with your fingers, drawing your thumb nail along underneath your index finger.   His presence seemed to fill the room.  Something about the tension in his body and the wariness of his tone reminded you of a wounded animal, ready to bite.  You wanted to choose your words carefully, to put the man in front of you at ease. 

Instead, the words fell out of your mouth in a rambling mess.

“Well, I knew these weren’t really going to be sufficient for you.”  You looked up at him.  “And I told you I wanted to make sure you were getting your medication from somewhere reliable.  Besides, this way it’s covered by the League instead of you paying out of your own pocket.”

You shifted your weight slightly, unsure if you should say anything else while he continued to pierce your soul with his sharp gaze, trapping you like a spider in a web.  Oh shit, was he mad?  He seemed mad.  Maybe? Why the hell was he staring at you like that?  Why wasn’t he saying anything??

Maybe you made a mistake.

Finally, you couldn’t handle the tension anymore and worked out an apology through your clumsy lips. “I-I’m sorry, I should have checked with you first.  It’s just, I had to get in my medical order today, and I didn’t want to bother you earlier.”

Dabi broke his hold on you with a blink.  “Wait. So Crusty Hands is paying for my drugs?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You replied with a shrug.  “He has Kurogiri give me an allowance and I decide how I want to spend it.”

A chuckle escaped Dabi’s lips. “That’s fucking great.  I bet he’d lose his shit if he found out.”

You secretly released the breath you were holding as your tension left your shoulders.  “Well, he shouldn’t find out. Your pills are expensive.”

“Oh, he’s definitely gonna find out.” Dabi grinned.  “I can’t not rub it in his face.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms.  “Are you trying to get me dusted?”

Dabi’s grin froze for a moment as he stared at you, mirth in his eyes.  “He won’t dust you, doll.  You’re too valuable.”

You stared back at him, skepticism written all over your face.  “Yeah, well that nice budget he gives me helps me stay valuable. So, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your smart mouth shut.”

“It’s cute that you think you can boss me around.  If you’re gonna make me keep secrets, then you better make it worth my while.” Dabi leered.

“Worth your while?” you echoed, confusion in your eyes.  All your mind could conjure in that moment were impure ways to silence that attractive mouth of his and you were pretty sure that wasn’t what he meant.  Your mind got increasingly distracted as you wondered what kissing him would feel like, with his different textured lips and the rings on the corners of his mouth.

Goddamn it.

Dabi’s deep voice pulled you back to the present.

“Don’t act coy with me, doll.” Dabi replied casually.  “You think you know me so well, you’re making all my choices for me now. What do you think I want?”

A moment ago, he seemed low energy due to his withdrawal, barely holding onto his sanity out of courtesy of your presence.  Now, all of a sudden, he was dripping with what you could only describe as sex appeal. He’d completely pulled the rug out from under you with his sinuous words wrapped nicely in a heavy drawl.  His body leaned into your personal space just enough to make you lean away slightly, even though your body wanted you to go in the opposite direction, to meet him move for move, like a puppet on strings. If only his hands could caress you the way his voice did, then maybe you wouldn’t feel so tense...  Rational thought abandoned you as you struggled to pick up the broken pieces of your façade while your imagination ran with the freedom of a wild horse.

Dabi watched your blank expression in amusement, enjoying having the upper hand.  You looked downright terrified.  What was going on in that pretty little head of yours?  If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were going down a naughty rabbit hole.  But Dabi scratched that theory – he wasn’t the type of guy girls fantasized about… right?

He watched as you faltered between your secret thoughts and your defensive words.  “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” He teased.  “I thought you were the expert? You’re always so smart with all the answers.”

“Wha-” you stammered. “Shut up, Dabi.”

“Just give me a few more of those pills for later and I’ll be silent as the grave.”

“Is that what this is about?” You pushed your hands against his bare chest, and he let you, backing out of your personal space just enough to let you breathe. “You’re ridiculous.”

“What did you think I meant?” Dabi grinned.

“Nothing.” You huffed. “Stop trying to get under my skin.”

“Stop letting me.” he countered.  “I thought you were a professional?  Do you get this flustered with everyone? Or maybe we got somethin’ special, doll.” Dabi knew he was pushing it, but the moment was too fun not to, your flustered reactions spurring him on.  The more you gave, the more he wanted to take. Normally, gals didn’t let him get this far…

“Why are you like this.” You grumbled in annoyance.

“‘cause you seem to like it.”  Dabi stared down at you.  Were you gradually getting closer to him or was it his imagination?

“You wish,” you replied, denial thickening your tone into barbs. You tilted your chin up defiantly. “Maybe you’re the one who likes it.”

Dabi laughed.  If you wanted to play with fangs out, then he’d play along.

“Don’t think too highly of yourself, doll.  You’re not my type.” He mocked.

You stared at him, dumbfounded, his words cutting you before you could even understand why.  Perhaps it was the attack on your self-esteem, or his blatant declaration that he had no interest in you.  Just like that, the heat of the moment turned to ice, your eyes betraying your hurt before you could mask it behind detached anger. 

Dabi faltered in his assault; he hadn’t expected the words to have such an effect on you.  If anything, he expected you to provide a sarcastic agreement about him not being your type either, or you not wanting to be his type, or something along those lines.  He expected you to be annoyed, yes.  Mildly insulted, sure.

He did not expect you to see you so wounded.

Your lips pressed firm together as you took a steady breath through your nose to keep your eyes from suddenly watering by the slap of emotion that threatened to drown you. 

“Yeah, well you’re not exactly a catch yourself.” You replied coldly.  Whether or not your words mattered to him, you had no idea.  His face was an emotionless mask as he straightened his back and retreated from what was left of your personal space.

If he was going to say anything in response, you didn’t give him a chance.  You lowered your eyes to the level of his bare chest which now seemed impossibly far from you even though you had touched its warmth only moments before.

“Turn around so I can finish.  I have to go check on Magne after this.” You said emotionlessly.  It was the first time he’d ever truly heard you speak like that, and he quickly decided that he didn’t like it.

You finished hastily without any further conversation and left with a curt “goodnight,” before Dabi could finish putting his shirt back on over his head.

After you had gone, Dabi stared at the door for a moment, before he sat on the edge of his bed and ran his long fingers through his black hair.  He wanted to ignore it and forget it; it wasn’t supposed to matter.  But, alone in his solitude, his mind replayed the moment over and over for him, unrelentingly, until understanding slowly came.  The stubborn seed of realization forced its way through his deeply rooted denial, his conviction not enough to refute what he plainly saw.  Your small gestures of kindness, your excessive commitment to care for him, the way you smiled at him when you saw him… your wounded expression at his callous words.

Did you like him?

“Fuck.” He muttered. ___________________________________________________________

 Part 5

___________________________________________________________

Taglist: @lemonfvck​ @vs-redemption​ @inanabsentia​  @sheedaabee​  @toshiuwuu​ @marydragneell​ @chillinwithmybakubros​​ @genuinelytodorokisbitch​ @sam-i-am-1025 @redflannel​ @axerrri​​ @necccomancy​​ @miadraws0​​ @hot-pocket01​ @hopelessdisasterr @dummythiccwitch​ @villainsdeku​ @aquzairus @officialtrashbusiness​ @hemdem018​ @purplesweethart​

[pi-cat000]

FMA:B/BNHA Crossover (1)

Summary: Ed gets stuck in the BNHA world after the end of brotherhood. He starts trying to find a way home and ends up inadvertently working for the league of villains.  

(fic I started writing a while back. I just like the image of Ed getting increasingly frustrated with how illogical quirks are)

Part 2: here

.

Edward notices tall, dark and suspicious the moment he enters through the rickety front door into his poor excuse of an office. It wasn’t just the way his entire head was covered in a low hood, though that was mighty suspicious, no, this dude gave off some of those dangerous vibes that he would usually associate with a homunculus. The stranger's movements were slightly off, as if not quite human. Only, there was no such thing as a homunculus in this weird word. Well, not that he knew of.

  “Brat! Are you listening to me!”

   Ed begrudgingly turns his attention back to his irate landlord. The older man is leaning over Ed’s desk, close enough that Ed can see the numerous wrinkles pulling down his face. “You better not be skimping on our arrangement.”

  “Hey,” Ed taps a finger against the wood, leaning forward so the old man is forced back at the risk of butting heads, “This whole building needs new wires …do I look like an electrician?”

  That enlists an expression of acute irritation and more annoyed huffing, “Don’t get smart with me. I’ll evict your freeloading ass so fast that…”

  “Oi! Our deal was that I fix the roof, get rid of that mould up on the third floor, and you set me up for the next month.”

  “The deal was that you handle the building’s upkeep and I put a roof over your ungrateful head.”

  “Just because I can fix up some rotting floorboards doesn’t mean I’m an expert electrician… how about you go hire a person with qualifications while I get on with my day job.” He smacks his hand on the table for emphasis, motioning at tall, dark, and mysterious waiting a few steps behind the older man. Technically, he could probably figure out how to fix the building’s faulty wiring with alchemy but there was no way he was getting suckered into helping his grumpy scam artists of a landlord any more than was promised.

  To his credit, the old coot takes one look at the shadowy figure and decides to put any further complaints on hold.  

  “I’ll be back. This ain't over,” is grumbled at Ed as the man makes his exit, skirting around the larger stranger with a healthy amount of apprehension.

  “Don’t do me any favours!” Ed snaps after him, rubbing his forehead before eyeing his potential customer. The location where he has set up shop isn’t the most affluent or safe so, for all he knew, this weirdo was about to rob him. Not that he had much to steal. He had arrived in this world with nothing and, four months later, he still has barely enough to feed himself on the regular.  Not when he is pumping any money he earns into his search to get home.

  “Ah…sorry about that,” He squints, trying to see under the stranger’s hood and is met with only darkness. It almost looks like the other man is made of purple smoke. It’s unsettling. No doubt the by-product of some more weird quirk bullshit. Ed tries to keep his tone as polite as possible. “You came to get something fixed right?”

  “It has been reported that you can repair anything?” The question is asked with little inflection. Almost toneless. Hopefully, this is a customer and not a cop trying to bust him for illegal quirk usage…great.

  “Sure,” He puts on his fakest of smiles, channels his inner Ling, and launches into his best sales pitch, “I have a reconstruction quirk…as long as most of the pieces are present, I can put it back together.”

  “…and does that extend to construction and building work?”

   “Ah,” The stranger didn’t appear to be carrying anything substantial on him so the object in need of fixing was probably located elsewhere, “what the hell do you need fixed?”

  There’s no response to his question and Ed crosses his arms, “I can’t do anything high-tech, too many intricate moving parts, but building construction is fine as long as the materials are all there and I have time to plan. Might take me a few goes depending on the scale. It will cost you extra as well. I’ll have to see it to be sure of the exact price.” He rattles off his fake quirk limitations with practised ease. In a world filled with nonsensical abilities, his alchemy fit right in. 

  The tall man thinks for a moment, leaving Ed to ponder the strange nature of the request. This is the first time he has been asked to do building work, usually, people wanted more mundane repairs like fixing furniture or jewellery.

   “Acceptable,” comes the abrupt response, “My employer requires some discrete building installation and repair, basic reconstruction, shelving, wall-fittings, construction. All onsite work.”

  “That’ll be pretty expensive….” Ed answers slowly, “and time-consuming.”

  “All materials will be provided. The price will not be an issue.”

  “Okay…” Ed narrows his eyes, examining the figure, but the shadows give nothing away. “Where exactly is this job?”

  “Transport to the site will be arranged.”

  As if to emphasis the statement, Tall-Dark-And-Smokey raises a hand and an inky black circle appears on the wall. The sudden action has Ed half rising from his seat, preparing to attack or defend. A beat passes and nothing happens.

  “The mode of transport,” Tall-Dark-And-Smokey explains, motioning to the black circle. It is a quirk effect, obviously something to do with travel. Ed relaxes but remains standing.  Is it just him or does the guy sound partly amused as his obvious unease? He carefully extracts himself from behind his crowded desk to step around and take a closer look.

  “So I just step in that and hope you’re not about to screw me over.” He folds his arms, more irritated now.

  “Your caution is understandable,” The purple circle fluctuates, undulating, and Tall-Dark-And-Smokey puts a hand inside his jacket pocket. Ed tenses again, ready to clap his hands together, relaxing only when he sees the stranger produce a white envelope. In a deliberately slow movement, the envelope is placed atop the uneven stack of books Ed has piled near the door. Ed once again gets the sense that the other man is amused.

  “Consider this a sign of goodwill and proof of our willingness to pay whatever needed,” The man tugs his hood, so it further hides his non-existent face. “Think it over. I will come by later for a response.”

  Tall-Dark-And-Smokey steps into the swirling circle which shrinks, disappearing completely.

  “Later? When the hell is later supposed to be?” Ed snaps at the empty room.

  “Tch,” He glares at the wall and its peeling white paint. What a weird unsettling guy. Suspicious as all hell.

  So far Ed’s stay in this universe hadn’t exactly been smooth. He had arrived in a building collapsing around him, later revealed to be a fight between one of this world's 'heroes’ and ‘villains,’ mentally and physically exhausted from his sudden trip through the Truth’s Gate. From there it had been touch and go as he tried to find his footing, not get accidentally killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and avoid getting himself arrested for not having identification or a quirk licence which was apparently a pretty big deal in this word. With his poor track record, he is tempted to just pack up and not get involved with Tall-Dark-And-Smokey.  

  Only…

  “A teleportation quirk…” He mutters, examining the wall more thoroughly and finding nothing out of place. It is the first time he has come across an ability like this. Against his better judgment, curiosity takes root. How far could it teleport? What were the conditions? Did it consume energy? What sort of energy and how much? What were the limitations? A lot of these weird abilities, quirks, had just as weird limitations.

  Maybe this was the breakthrough he needed.

  Ed’s alchemical research into escaping this world had long been stalled upon the realisation that the only way back to Amestris would be the same way he had left. Through the Gate of Truth. It would require an alchemy array the size of a small city and a sacrifice akin to a thousand human souls…possibly more…He hadn’t had the heart to make the exact calculations. There was no point in calculating the exact number of deaths required for him see his brother again. It wasn’t an option so he wasn't entertaining it. However, if he could somehow bypass the Gate, maybe by using some sort of quirk, then perhaps there was still hope for him. Teleportation had been one of the ones he had been on the lookout for.

  Ed clenches his metal fist, reaching for the envelope with the other, hoping for a distraction. He almost expects it to be some sort of scam. Instead, he is meant with a stack of the place’s currency, neatly bound together.

  It is a lot of money.

  He stares in disbelief, slowly pulling out the bills and running his finger over them. It is more money than all his repair jobs and his periodic pawning of ‘family heirlooms’ have made him since coming here. With this, he would be able to pay actual rent and any other bills for the next month and then the month after. Heck, he’d be able to buy himself some decent meals, a new computer and a better phone on top of that.

  Ed shoves the money back in the envelope and lets out a long, frustrated breath. There had to be a catch. No one just gave away this sort of money without reason. Not in the shithole of an area he’d set himself up in. Who the hell was willing to just throw money at someone to build goodwill? It sounded like the sort of suspicious behaviour that, had he encountered it on one of his missions, he would have reported it back to Mustang for further investigation. Not like he can just report stuff here, not without bringing unwanted scrutiny.

  Ordinarily, Ed would have scoffed and refused the obviously illegal work. However, a quirk was one of his best chances of getting home. Maybe, if he accepted this work, he could bargain for information on the guy's teleportation ability. Not like he hadn’t done other illegal things since arriving here.

  What would Alphonse say? Al was always better at reading people. Maybe he would tell him not to get involved with shady types? Or maybe he would say that Ed was too paranoid and he should give them a chance. Then again, his brother might caution him against it and tell him it was his duty to send in an anonymous tip to the nearest police station. Probably the last one. God damnit he misses Al. Ed stuffs the envelope into his shoulder bag, the one containing a portable automail maintenance kit and encoded alchemy notebooks.

  Next, he is pulling on his signature coat, coloured grey instead of bright red because red stood out and as much as he hated it, he needed to keep a low profile. Ed shuffles out of his makeshift shop, turning to lock the door. He needed more information and his four months in this world hadn’t left him entirely without contacts.

Part 2: here

[stillness-in-green]

Changeling: The League (2/3)

Being the next installment of my deeply nerdy spur-of-the-moment decision to do up a bunch of My Hero Academia villains as Changeling: The Lost characters.  For some introductory info and the League of Villains, check this post.  Or hit the jump for the Meta Liberation Army!  

THE METAHUMAN LIBERATION ARMY

Considerably reduced from what they are in canon (I don’t think there are 116,000 changelings in Japan, much less that many changeling dissidents!), the leaders of the MLA are instead a band of secret loyalists for the Keeper called Destro, who have spent a great many years preparing for a chance to bring him to the real world in full glory, unhindered by time limits or reduced powers.  The requirements are many and arcane, with a huge number of ways things could fall to disarray.  Thus they find to their great alarm that their prophecies are suddenly skewing when the truth of Shigaraki’s durance/Keeper comes out--there are two “heirs,” it seems, and fate is swirling, and it will only settle over one of them in the end.  

The group has its fingers in some of the more obscure fluff-book magic--fate-crafting, oracular dreams and the like--and collectively share a massively decked-out Hollow.

Re-Destro

Quote: “Everyone has a purpose to serve.”

Type: Gargantuan Ogre/Treasured Fairest dual kith.  The incarnation of Destro’s will.  Born in Faerie, he spent his early years being instructed (and molded) always--stand up straight, speak more clearly, be stronger, be better, you are the one who will herald me.  Re-Destro was delivered out of the Hedge at seven years old clutching a squall knife as long as his arm, his mind filled with the knowledge that he was the one who would see Destro ushered into the real world.  He was welcomed, open-armed, by those changelings who had been sent before.  He has spent over thirty years in the real world since then, scrupulously maintaining a startlingly high Clarity, but Destro whispers in his dreams more nights than not, and Rikiya (as he was named, though he has a true name his mother whispered against his head as an infant, now long forgotten) has always had the nagging feeling that the mundane Earth is not his true home.  

A tall, stiff-shouldered man in his Mask, Rikiya looks much as he does in canon, though without the stress spots on his forehead and with a nose that’s merely prominent, rather than a cartoonishly huge beak.  He’s quite tall and can go from mildly unassuming to toweringly imposing on a dime.  In mien, his hair goes more coppery and his skin becomes unblemished marble, the palest shade of jade in color, tinging ever so slightly darker around his joints.  His nose returns to its canonically proper glory, and the places where his hairline recedes in his mask are revealed to be making room for a pair of broad, curving horns, emerald green at the tips.  He’s unusually clean-hewn for an Ogre, not handsome, per se, but undeniably striking.  When he uses his kith blessing, he grows to profound sizes (shredding even the most cleverly crafted Hedgespun), easily as tall as a two storey building.  Naturally, he tries not to do that kind of thing around mortal witnesses.

Rikiya’s Wyrd is getting quite high (it was high even as a child, as might reasonably be predicted), so particularly sensitive or addled humans will sometimes see or experience fragments of his true form--his unyielding skin, a brief glimpse of the shadow of his horns, the echoing weight of his footsteps on stone floors.  His potent Wyrd and his affinity with the home of the Gentry means that his magic sometimes leaks into objects he keeps on his person for too long--it’s an issue he’s aware of, and practically speaking, it mostly means that he never wears anything more than a day in a row.  He has a staggering variety of suits and ties.  

Court/Mantle: Courtless.  With high-ranking friends in a sprawling freehold overseen by Directional Courts, Rikiya makes rounds in all of them.  He’s a deft hand with Hedgespun and his works are in high demand at even the most discerning changeling markets.  His home is in the center--close to the epicenter, in fact.

Contracts: Barbarically focused, though he uses both of his contracts sparingly.  His experience has gone more into his, shall we say, inherent magic.  

        Vainglory I-V.  Even when playing the role of a popular but unranked freehold member, or a canny designer of mundane accessories, Re-Destro has never forgotten who and what he is, and when he’s using these Contracts, that comes out with psyche-bruising force.  His higher-tier invocations tend to cause his colors to mottle somewhat, infusing to darker shades of green around his face--the hollows of his eyes particularly--and extremities.  

        Stone I-V.  Unbelievably strong whenever he needs to be.  He tries to avoid combat or let his underlings handle it when he can--he has very few problems maintaining his Clarity, but causing harm to others is a surefire way to disturb it--but when he does break these out, he’s as difficult to put down as a berserker.  Tends to take relaxing vacations after any occasion where he’s had to really work this. 

Curious 

Quote: ”You’ve got the look of someone with a story to tell.  I want to hear all about it.”

Type: Cleareyes Beast.  Once upon a time, she was a journalist with a nose for a story--well, she’s a journalist still, with a nose like you wouldn’t believe.  Talented and quick-witted, both traits won her attention from Destro’s “recruiters,” but it was her tenaciousness that finally saw her brought in from the snow and the hunts, a semblance of a human form returned to her, and the bright ambrosia of purpose poured down her throat.  Delivered to Re-Destro when he was in his 20s, Chitose is a hunter and a dream-spinner, a trickster with a deft and ruthless touch for talecrafting.  She remembers the headiness of blood on her tongue, and she can always smell a bleeding heart.  

A fox changeling, though given her bent of viciousness and her unusual coloring, you could be forgiven for thinking her a kumiho or a particularly wicked kitsune.  In mien, she has long, thick white hair and a pair of white tails (three in the dreamscape), tipped in black like stained ink brushes, that match her long, tufted ears.  Her whole body’s covered in a fine layer of silken fur; she’s got a lupine lengthiness to her features and sharp teeth in her smile.  In her mask, her hair’s rich and dark and she seems to have a perpetual healthy glow to her skin, tipping into a noticeably high, intemperate flush when her passions are aroused.  A beauty in either form, she has thin, seemingly delicate wrists and ankles, but moves with a quick, decisive grace.  Her eyes are blue with just a hint of the green they used to be, the color standing out sharply from the ring of her black eyelashes.  

Court/Mantle: The South, seat of ecstasy.  Chitose remembers the purity of her emotions in Faerie, remembers heights of euphoria and shocks of terror that stole her breath away, but out in the real world, she feels muted and muffled, never quite fulfilled, as if she’s always groping for an outstretched hand that’s just out of reach.  The Court of Song gets her closest to that reckless, all-pervading sensation, and so she throws herself headlong into its giddy pursuit of obsession.  Her mantle wraps her in a sensual warmth and, when she’s particularly worked up, wisps of thin white smoke scented like heady incense or burning sugar.  Every so often, when her eyes catch the light in a dark room, they reflect red instead of green.

Contracts: 

        Den I-III.  She considers herself to have every right to be wherever she finds herself and is not about to let a home security system stop her when she’s chasing any sort of rabbit.

        Dream I-IV.  Whether she’s digging for a story or pushing a narrative, dreams are fruitful ground with a multiplicity of uses, none of which she’s squeamish about implementing.  Curious is a terror, asleep or awake.  

        Omen I-III.  While she’s not much interested in fortune-telling as a method for long-term strategic planning (you want Skeptic for that), she does absolutely have a use for powers that give her visions of someone’s worst memory or upcoming major life events.  

Skeptic

Quote: “Do you have any idea what kind of shitstorm we have coming down on us?  What?  You can’t see the future?  I guess that means you should shut the hell up and stop distracting those of us who have something useful to contribute then, doesn’t it?!”

Type: Oracle Wizened.  Destro knew that his followers would need someone who could properly interpret signs and portents, so set his recruiters to finding someone with an eye for secret signs, a knack for the languages of symbolism and metaphor.  Most of them brought back psychics or sensitive children, but one particularly old recruiter, for whom “computers” were a new and strange novelty, brought back Tomoyasu.  An electronics whiz-kid from a young age, Tomoyasu was in high school at the time, but already doing college prep.  He was driven and competitive but, crucially, willing to explain things to people who didn’t understand them.  In Faerie, his eyes were opened (forcibly, sometimes with clamps) to a great many more languages and codes, and his competitive personality honed to a vicious edge because you did not want to be a failure, not at any cost.  

Now that he’s been sent back to the real world, Skeptic has a presence in many realms.  He’s still quite good with computers, of course, but there’s the much more important work of Destro that needs to be done, and that involves both tasks for now and plans laid for later.  As such, he maintains dream pledges with a number of psychics (mostly fresh ones, though there are a few shattered survivors from amongst his rivals for his current position).  Unlike Curious, he isn’t interested in digging in their dreams or using them as staging grounds for larger projects; he only needs them to help him fill in his understanding of the future.  He and Re-Destro do a great measure of the work in maintaining the group Hollow.  

Rail-thin and gangly, Skeptic stalks about his environment with a constant sense of bloody-minded productivity.  He’s rarely without a laptop or tablet tucked in one arm and wears exclusively black, which just adds to the impression of being The World’s Gothiest Scarecrow.  His eyes are always hidden, behind his long bangs, razor-thin sunglasses, or--on more formal Court occasions--a broad silk blindfold, but glimpses of them are always alarmingly bloodshot.  In mien, his hands and arms are dotted with tattoos and scarification, faerie glyphs and sigils, and his eyes are filmed with blood.  He may not actually have eyelids--certainly no one has ever seen him blink.  Usually has a sword or the emblem of one on his person somewhere--a custom of his Court, because the heavens know he’s no swordfighter.

Court/Mantle: The West, seat of honor.  Very much a means to an end.  Skeptic has little interest in martialtry, but the needs of Destro demand that someone do it, and his obsessive perfectionism and rigidly high standards for himself make him the best fit--and anyway, the Court of War does need strategists.  He’s learned how to handle weapons in a perfunctory sort of way, but he’s a much better shot with a rifle than one would expect from the state of his eyes, especially if he’s got some time to spend fidgeting with one for a little bit before he has to fire it.  His mantle is relatively low, compared to most of his motley-mates, and manifests as a penetrating chill to the air and a slightly sharper tang of blood-smell than just his red-rimmed eyes can explain.  

Contracts: 

        Animation I-V.  You don’t have to waste time learning how to operate anything if the object itself will tell you how to use it, and you don’t have to stand around waving a sword at people when you can have the sword wield itself.  “Inanimate” nothing; as a rule, he likes objects better than people.  

        Artifice I.  Object touchy because it’s busted?  Nothing a bit of magic can’t fix (at least for long enough to get the job done.

        Hours I-IV.  The result of Skeptic’s understanding of objects crashing together with his oracular abilities.  The time magic he can work on inanimate objects is very useful (and yes, the way Shigaraki warps the first clause of this drives him absolutely mad), but the real miracle is what the ability to control time dilation in the Hedge does for his and his motley’s productivity.

Trumpet

Quote:  “I’m sure we’ll succeed.  After all, we’re the ones he chose.” 

Type: Fairest Muse.  The only member of the MLA motley proper that has any ambivalent feelings about The Destro Revival Festival.  He’s about Re-Destro’s age, but was kidnapped at a much less tender age than the rest, well into his adulthood.  He was an up-and-coming civil servant at the time, then spent longer than he can remember in Faerie, rallying crowds and practicing speeches until his throat bled and cracked into silence, learning to channel some portion of Destro’s white-hot conviction and magnetic presence, for all that being vessel to those traits felt like it burned the soul out of him.  Hanabata was charismatic and persuasive while he went in and his time in Faerie amplified those traits beyond belief, but he isn’t so broken as to believe that Destro did him some kind of favor.  

He is, however, quite broken enough to believe that Destro is undefeatable and that he has no real choices in the matter.  He was returned barely a week after he was taken in real-Earth time, dropped on Re-Destro’s lap when the latter was just getting started in establishing himself.  He’s spent the twenty years since then doing whatever needs to be done in order to smooth Re-Destro’s path (he’s unusually prominent in human politics for a changeling; indeed, he’s amassed some fairly significant temporal authority) and watching the rest of his ordained motley grow up.  They’re really the only people keeping him going; Hanabata thinks they’re far more damaged than he, and in many ways he’s right--he has a much clearer grasp on what they’ve all lost, even if some of them never had it to begin with--but he’s also very badly hurt in his own way, lacking even the devoted fervor of the cause to fill up the empty spaces left in what used to be his optimism.  

His mask looks like the Trumpet of the canon, minus the ever-present sense of pomade and the facial hair that can’t decide if it wants to be a mustache or not; he’s just clean-shaven.  He has a wry, expressive mouth and a nearly hypnotic voice, a baritone by turns soothing or rolling.  There’s an indefinable sense of presence to him; just looking at him makes brave people want to strike up a conversation and timid people lurk about in vague hopes of leeching up some of his confident vibes. His mien just amplifies it; he’s impossibly magnetic, with strong features and eyes the kind of green you could get lost in.  His voice is even more of a marvel here, resonant and penetrating in ways humans couldn’t typically manage without augmentation.  When out in public, he wears a camera-ready smile as faithfully as a wedding band; in private, he’s markedly more subdued.   

Court/Mantle: The East, seat of envy.  Trumpet’s talents make him marvelously well-suited for this Court, but it isn’t just a matter of practicality, as the Court of the West is for Skeptic.  No, Trumpet is intimately familiar with the thumbscrew feeling of envy--no free changeling can even begin to grasp how bitterly he covets their ignorance.  His mantle can be difficult to pick apart from the gripping presence of his seeming, but when he’s working magic, it’s frequently accompanied by the bizarre sense to onlookers that he’s taller than he really is.  Even if someone is standing right next to him and knows perfectly well that they’re taller than him, sometimes they’ll blink and their eyes will lie, vision inverting such that Trumpet seems to be looking down at them.  Every so often, when he’s on a roll, his eyes will gleam the perfect yellow-white of the sun reflecting on newly-minted coins.   

Contracts: 

        Vainglory I-III.  Not as advanced in his understanding of this Contract as Re-Destro, but the effect is considerably more potent when he’s using it.  

        Hearth I-V.  As engrossing as it is to listen to him talk, Trumpet’s real talent is in inspiring others, and the Contracts of fair and foul fortune just amplify that.   

        Fleeting Spring I and Fleeting Autumn I.  First levels of the seasonal contracts don’t require Seasonal Court goodwill, but he’d probably get it from any Spring Court in the country anyway.  Envy is close cousins with Desire, after all.  Whichever the case, manipulating people is easier when you know both what they want and what they fear.

Geten

Quote: “Ice is never far away.  Prepare yourself.”  

Type: Snowskin Elemental.  Geten remembers little of their time before Faerie--in fact, they have very little recollection of the passage of any of the time that must have brought them to their current age.  Their memory is like one huge block of ice, solid from wall to wall with cold and scarcity.  If some of that scarcity, back at the very beginning, is colored in a different palette than Destro’s winter, well, it’s still of a piece with the rest, so what does it matter?  All of their life was the winter--until Re-Destro appeared and chose them.  Out in the real world, Geten knows, intellectually, about the whole “herald of Destro” thing and devotes themself to the cause with admirable fervor, but in truth, that fervor is far more dedicated to Re-Destro than it is their True Fae Keeper, of whom Geten recalls next to nothing.  Generally serious and driven, Geten enjoys feeling that their actions have meaning beyond just keeping them alive, so they’re never happier than when they’re fighting for Re-Destro in concrete, measurable ways.  Generally poorly socialized in ways that would make their life much more difficult if they didn’t have Rikiya looking out for them.  

In mask, Geten is a slight youth with shoulder-length, white-blonde hair and unusual pale gray eyes.  They have a delicate-looking face that’s incongruous with their rather feral personality.  In mein, their hair is fully white, as are the glowing pupils of their eyes.  Their already fair skin goes bloodlessly pale, and even on the hottest day, their features are kissed with a rime of frost.  They wear long sleeved, full-length clothes at all times of the year, though curiously, they dress more heavily in summer than in winter.  

Court/Mantle: The North, seat of suffering.  Something of an unusual case in their freehold, where the power of the Directional Courts holds sway, Geten emerged from the Hedge with a strong Winter mantle.  No matter that they’re sworn to the Armor Court, that raw affinity to the Court of Sorrow remains.  This odd duality, seen by some as untrustworthy, has largely kept them from advancing very far despite their apparent dedication to the Stupa’s focused, ascetic lifestyle.  They’re frequently mistaken for being courtless, particularly in a freehold that’s less familiar with the look of the Silent Arrow than those who move in Seasonal Court circles would be.  The lack of any obvious sign of a mantle is itself the tell--Winter always makes its changelings look more stark, as if somehow etched more clearly into the fabric of the world, unobscured by other connections.  Likewise, their magic is all ice-themed anyway, so many don’t realize that the brief gusts of snow around them are a sign of their mantle--but every so often, there will be a brush of pale ash on those winds, a sign that, for all that Winter lives in their bones, Geten has still embraced the North.  

Contracts: These speak for themselves.  Geten’s power set, more than anyone in these posts, hews closely to canon!Geten’s quirk meta-ability.  

        Elements (Ice) I-IV.  Exacts control over ice.  They’re protected from it, they’re protected by it, they control it, and it answers their call (though their range is not anywhere close to canon!Geten’s).   

        Communion (Ice) I-III.  Very unlike canon!Geten, the changeling version is ice-born enough that they speak with it like kin.  Ice isn’t much of a gossiper, as elements go, but it reflects things, sometimes, and knows the shape of everything it touches.  They can extend this awareness as far out as a mile in most weather, though the range is much shorter in e.g. a blizzard, when trying to take in that much information would be overwhelming.  

        Eternal Winter I-III.  Don’t have ice?  Make your own!  Again, not as wide-ranging as canon!Geten’s, but serves much the same purpose.  Geten can also, like Spinner, perform emergency thermostat duties, though Spinner’s control over heat allows him to turn it up or expel it, while Geten’s is only ever going to make things colder.

BONUS TIDBITS: 

Changeling!Re-Destro needs to be able to get around in the human world without being prone to fits of hallucination and delirium, and his magic isn't dependent on his stress levels, so unlike his canon self, he gets to have actual vacation time, do soothing yoga, etc.

Geten and Curious had some durance overlap, but neither of them remember it clearly.  Curious’s memories of that time are too patchy, while Geten’s are too hard to pare down into individual moments.  Geten does feel a sense of familiarity towards Curious, but they don’t talk about it much after the one time they described it as being, “Like she was...inside me, for a while,” and everyone looked really weirded out.  

Changeling!Geten is nonbinary because It’s My AU And I’ll Do What I Want.  They are made of ice and do not really understand what the deal is with gender.

Magne doesn’t die in this AU because It’s My AU And I’ll Do What I Want.  She and Curious have to team up to brainstorm a strategy for an epic oneiromachy duel with Destro that will decisively eject him from Rikiya’s dreams without reducing Rikiya to a drooling husk.    

Trumpet is the true wild card in this AU.  The other Destro-ites have never really even considered the prospect of breaking free from Destro; Trumpet has, but rather than that making him the person who’s the easiest to sway, it makes him the person most resolutely convinced that betraying Destro will lead only to suffering.  The lengths that conviction will drive him to make him a severe danger to his motley the moment they begin considering abandoning their mission.

[thanagariansnarebeast]

Top ten (11) Bi/Pan characters Part 1

Happy Pride Month! I was talking to someone about representation in media and it got me thinking about my favorite bisexual characters, so I thought I’d make this list. I’m only including canonically bisexual/pan characters that have been shown to be romantically interested in or sexually interested in both genders or non-binary people, so no characters that are shipped as bi; I’m mostly having this rule because having actual representation really matters. I’ll also do my best to not include problematic characters/media, I don’t want to include villains  or shows that are fond of killing off under represented groups. I know some characters its hard to tell what sexuality they are, as it isn’t always explicitly stated; but I went with characters that clearly are shown as not being completely straight or completely homosexual, sexuality is a spectrum and being mostly into one or the other still counts. I actually realized after making this that I had 11 characters, so oops.

11. Quentin Coldwater (The Magicians)

(Spoilers for seasons 1-4 of the Magicians) Quentin was a character that I wasn’t all that fond of at the beginning of the series because he had a lot of that blank slate main character stuff going on, but as the show went on he really grew on me and showed who he was. I’m guessing in the book he’s more fleshed out at the beginning because you know more about what’s going on in his head, so I’m guessing translating that to a t.v. series made him seem less interesting at first. My favorite moments with him are when he uses his intelligence and creativity to solve problems, and when he gets sick of someone’s shit and tells them they are being an ass. He’s clearly shown as having romantic and sexual interest in both genders, and while he did hurt some feelings by doing it; he was clearly very remorseful and very much regretted it. He also much later asks Eliot to be in a relationship with him after they live a whole life time together, which is about as romantic as you can get.

10. Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn 99)

I know we are all on a cop bashing spree lately (A very justified one, don’t get me wrong), but this is a fictional character in an alternate reality where most cops are actually trying to help people, and I wouldn’t consider the show to be cop propaganda because they show cops being racist, negligent, and incompetent as well, so I don’t think its fair to hate a show because of what is going on in real life when the show isn’t preaching anything harmful. Rosa is smart, funny, caring, and a total badass; I’ve always loved badass female characters in leather jackets. She has her anger issues, and issues socializing with people, but she still cares deeply for her friends and does her best to always do the right thing. Her struggle to deal with her sexuality and coming out to her friends and family, and the show does it in a very grounded and mature way. Her parents struggling to accept her was very sad to see, but also a sad reality for many people; and I loved that they acknowledge that even now we struggle to be accepted. Her friends are all very understanding and do everything to help her understand that they love and accept her and her having an openly gay captain to look up to is a cool bonus.

9. Harley Quinn (D.C. Comics)

Now I said I wouldn’t include any villains so this is kind of cheating, but she is an anti-hero in some versions, and the picture I used was specifically from the video game Injustice 2 where she is a member of the Justice League and a reformed villain so I don’t think its completely fair to just say she’s a villain. Her first relationship was horrible and incredibly toxic, but she learned and grew from that experience and moved on to other romantic interests like Poison Ivy and a few others. She’s had a few partners in different versions of the comics/ t.v. shows/ films/ video games,  some more healthy than others; but she is constantly learning and growing as a person. I love her fun and playful personality, most of her outfits, her crazy weapons, and her hyenas Bud and Lou. The version of her from the Injustice games and comics is my favorite because of her outfit, her character growth, and how well they write her character.

8. Iron Bull (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

Iron Bull is one of my favorite companions in any Dragon Age game, he’s such a fun character. He’s charming, honest, caring, and both literally and metaphorically a giant badass. His upbringing and culture are very different than the other races, and sexuality to him isn’t really about the gender of his partner and that kind of thing just isn’t a big deal to him. You have the option to just have sex with him or become romantically involved with him in the game, but even if you don’t he still brings up how he feels about that kind of thing; so his sexually is still cannon even if you don’t do anything with him. I didn’t put Liara from the Mass Effect games on here because while I’ve only played the first two, I haven’t seen any evidence that outside of the player character she is interested in people romantically or sexually; and also her species seems to be gender fluid and the whole thing is just too complicated for me to try and figure out at 1:30 in the morning. Iron Bull is a very interesting character in the game, and early on you make a choice that changes his personality and it is interesting to see the differences that decision has on him. He’s also voiced by Freddie Prinze Jr. which blew me away, because I could not tell based on how he sounds in game.

7. Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer)

While I am familiar withe the D.C./ Vertigo comics that he is in I have not read all of them, so I am going with the very not blonde t.v. version of the character. Lucifer is a charming and charismatic man-child in the show, and loves having fun; which makes the character a lot of fun to watch. He also isn’t breaking my no villains rule because he is the main protagonist of the show, and while he has done some bad things; he and the show make a explicit point about how much he hates that people assume he is evil because his dad forced him to rule over hell. He flirts with and defiantly has many sexual partners of male and female, and even makes jokes like “What? Its called a devil’s threesome for a reason.” Another reason that I picked the t.v. show version is because Tom Ellis’s portrayal of Lucifer just oozes sexuality and charm. Lucifer has a lot of issues that make him into the character that he is, but he tries his best to do the right thing; and does genuinely care about his friends and family; and feels remorse when he does things that hurt them. For a character that is assumed to be evil by most people, he has a very vocal sense of justice, and has no qualms about delivering what he considers to be justice.

6. Sara Lance (Arrow/ Legends of Tomorrow)

Sara is strong, beautiful, and has a strong sense of justice. I love her white costumes, and how she just bounces around time seducing people; she’s a female Jack Harkness in that aspect. She is another character deeply devoted to her friends and family, and while she has made mistakes, she definitely learned from them. I also love how she’s a female character that they actually show as muscular. (Spoilers to follow for both shows) She struggles to not give in to her assassin training at times, but she has gotten much better at it. I try not to include characters from fiction where they kill LGBTQ+ characters, but she doesn’t stay dead so I really don’t think that it counts. She is shown as having both male and female sexual and romantic partners, and I love her current relationship in the show. Caity Lotz says she has had conversations with the writers about the character’s sexuality, and if she’s still bisexual if they mostly show her with women, and Caity had to explain that Sara is always bi, no matter who she is with; which I definitely think is an issue that comes up when dealing with writing a bisexual character, because some people just don’t seem to understand.

[aurification]

you're the sun, you're the day. the light that guides me.

WORD COUNT: 4115 WHO: @txdkxrd, rani carter, skeets, mentions of darkseid WHEN: two weeks ago WHAT: time travel gone wrong leaves the carter family stranded in an alternate universe NOTES: speech in bold is rani and italics is skeets TRIGGERS: mentions of war, death, depression

MICHAEL CARTER: Nothing has felt right since his best friend died. Michael has experienced tragedy before and saw it with his own eyes as cities burned and innocence is lost. Nothing could have prepared him for the day Ted would die. Maybe his way of coping with the grief wasn’t healthy, his sister tried to make him understand why his actions were inappropriate.  He would travel into the past for only a few hours at a time to spend time with Ted. Who was too smart to be fooled by seeing a version of Booster with more experience than they remember. 

Four years ago Darkseid invaded the planet Daxam in the 31ST CENTURY and Michael tried to stop the war but there wasn’t much that could be done except help the Daxamites try and evacuate or get to shelter. He ended up bringing a young child back to Earth with him. Rip wasn’t much thrilled by having a nine-year-old Daxamite living with them now but informed Booster that he was a father now. It took some time to wrap his head around this but quickly became thrilled about having a daughter. Rani seemed to really look up to him and that never changed over the years. 

Now, Michael may keep up on being in shape but doesn’t shave as often anymore. He puts too much thought into taking care of his daughter who just turned thirteen a few months ago. Michelle gifted her niece an old Goldstar uniform for emergencies only. Jaime and Skeets didn’t think it was a good idea but far as birthdays go it couldn’t have been better. The ache of Ted being gone for so long still lives within him but it doesn’t seem like a loss that you can ever get over. He tells Rani all about their adventures and what kind of man Blue Beetle is like. He talks about how they would have gotten along well because Rani is a little genius and likes helping out around the lab when Rip is home. He thinks that Ted and Rani could have had a special relationship by bonding over coming up with new inventions. Which always never made sense to Michael, only wanting to know how something works not how you build it. He was the only one who regularly took care of his headstone too. 

Something goes wrong though and Skeets informs Booster that Rani followed them dressed in her newly acquired Goldstar uniform. 

“I can help you, dad! You can’t keep doing this on your own!” She would tell him, always trying to get Michael to let her be his sidekick but he never budges. He doesn’t want Rani being put in danger but that’s what happens. The creature finally found them and crashes through part of the building in it’s path. He doesn’t have time to try patching into his comms to see where Batman is. He does what any parent would do and focuses on getting Rani out of the situation. He uses his time-travel circuitry to get the three of them out of there and to be somewhere safer. The safest place he could think of and hasn’t been in years. His best friend’s lab. Both Michael and his daughter pull off their goggles which are dangling around their necks as Skeets hovers over their head. 

<Sir, you might want to turn around.>

“Not now, Skeets.”

<It’s most urgent.>

Booster signs, turning to see what the big deal is. Rani hides behind her father’s tall stature unsure what to expect. Apparently in his moment of panic they were resorted to an entirely different timeline. The year is the same but something leaves the blonde speechless. Ted walking into the lab and Michael feels his eyes water but tries to pull himself together before they’re noticed. “Teddy...” He says finally when their gazes meet. 

Rani steps out from behind Booster, in just as much shock. The teenager tugs on his arm knowing how this must feel for him. “Dad?” She asks while looking between the two adults.

TED KORD: Teddy had a lot to be getting on with these days but his mind occasionally drifted back to Booster. He’d been his best friend back in the days of the JLI; they’d bonded over being the jokers of the team, both seeing the value in each other that was rarely seen by other people. Of course, even the best team ups couldn’t last forever and Teddy was one of the few who understood the amount of work Booster did keeping timelines in check and there was a reason he couldn’t tell anyone about it. In fact, the only reason Teddy had put it together in a combination of tiny clues from talking with Booster and his own smarts. So when Booster left he didn’t question it, no matter how much he missed his best friend he knew life needed to go on. So, for years, it had. The ban came into effect and Booster wasn’t there. So, Teddy poured all his knowledge and time into Kord Inc. and pulled his somewhat mediocre company out of a rut and made it a real world competitor on par with several branches of Wayne Enterprises and Stark Industries. He’d also found Jaime and taken the boy under his wing in El Paso; he was a good kid and damn if Teddy didn’t think he’d be so much better than he ever was and probably save the damn world many times over.

It was hella busy and of course he’d poured that same obsessiveness into his own health as well. Sure doctors told him that his heart couldn’t be fixed and didn’t warrant a translate, yet, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make himself as healthy as possible. So he dieted, constantly, and worked out (too much) to try and help himself out. Truth be told he was in better shape than he’d ever been in his life (BMI readouts and body measurements didn’t lie). But he still looked in the mirror and saw many imperfections, too many of them. Ones that made him pale in comparison to folks like Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. He couldn’t help but wonder why they’d even invited him into the Avenging League. Not that he was complaining! Getting involved with them reminded him of why he’d loved getting into the hero game. So he’d pulled the worst Blue Beetle out of the closet and back into the field. He couldn’t wear the spandex again though. Seven years away from it had clued him into how, well… unappealing it could look. The spandex hood certainly did him no favours. The description ’human condom’ had been used by some particularly uncharitable news reporters.

His new costume was much simpler, it consisted of some fitted cargo pants with several pockets, his own utility belt, a skin-tight t-shirt with the beetle emblem, fingerless gloves and his trademark orange goggles, he’d not been able to give them up. And that was how he was currently dressed in The Bug monitoring the city, with NOVA now pushed out it was much easier to do. He was shocked when an alert triggered that had been programmed to detect one missing best friend: it had been years since it went off. Booster. And he wasn’t far!

He synched the tracker to the tech in his gloves and jogged out of the Bug to the outskirts of the city, only about ten minutes so he wasn’t out of breath when he arrived (take that crappy heart) and when he arrived Skeets was already trying to tell Booster he was here. Teddy smirked and waved at the little robot who bobbed up and down in response. Then Booster was finally turning to see him and wow that’s a beard. He grinned, why was Booster looking so dumbstruck, “Were you expecting Guy instead?” He asked with a chuckle, but then the teenager spoke and what did she say!? DAD!? “Boos… Who’s the teenage girl?” He asked with a raised brow.

MICHAEL CARTER: It was no secret that Michael changed after Ted died. He continued exercising regularly but allowed his facial hair to grow out to a very visible blonde beard and mustache. Which isn’t something that he ever decided to do before but the traumatic loss of his best friend made him stop caring about being clean shaven. Booster let himself go in at least one regard — but over time began trimming it to at least pretend that he has it together. His daughter doesn’t know anything different. There are pictures of him without it but has never seen it with her own eyes before. Another thing that Michael stopped taking care of was his suit. It had always been Ted who did repairs and sewed the fabric back together. Rip started taking it upon himself to fix the Booster Gold suit and that’s something they never talked about it. Something unspoken because maybe Rip knew Ted wouldn’t want Booster to do that to himself.

Small reminders were all over the place and surrounded him after it was revealed that Kord Industries had been left to him. Some people didn’t understand why — Michael included since he doesn’t know anything about running a business. He didn’t want to let Ted down since he must have believed in him to make the decision and be confident in it. Booster worked hard on making sure the company would continue to thrive even if he left to travel through the time stream. Keeping his memory alive is important and maybe that’s why Jaime ended up being taken under his wing. The kid was important to Ted — considering that Jaime is his legacy after all. The blonde might not be the mentor the teenager wanted but was the only one left to teach him in a way that would make his best friend proud.

Despite having all this responsibility Michael never quite got over the loss. Michelle might argue that going into the past to observe a time when Ted is alive wasn’t healthy. She always told him that won’t help him move forward and maybe she was right. He stopped after Rani came into his life because he needed to set a good example. It was never in his plan to become a father but sometimes the universe gives you what it thinks you need.

After crash landing and destroying his time travel device in the process, Booster planned on sitting his daughter down to try making her understand why it wasn’t the time for being a hero. He wants her to have a normal life, after everything they’ve both been through one of them deserves it. Rani is young and no thirteen year old should be fighting monsters and crime. If anything happened to her too ... that might completely break him. The already shattered pieces scattering across the floor in a way that would be impossible to piece back together. This thought is forgotten after the Ted of this universe walked in. He just stares, not caring that this one is younger ... only that he’s still alive.

Everyone’s voices pulls him out of his thoughts, needing to explain himself. This Ted’s Booster must not have any children which is interesting. He doesn’t see another version of himself around but keeps it in mind for later. Michael doesn’t joke as often, maybe grown up a little and locked away part of his personality after his own Ted died. “When has anyone wanted to be alone in a room with Guy?” The tug on his arm from Rani reminds him, and looks between the two of them. He doesn’t know how long they’ll be here but it’s going to be a while. It wouldn’t be easy fixing technology from the future and maybe he wants to be selfish by spending time with his best friend. The blonde takes a step forward, an arm wrapping around Rani as they approach Ted. He never thought that this would happen and needs to try not getting choked up about it. “Teddy. This is my daughter, Rani.” She smiles and waves at him. ”It’s nice to meet you!” Although there’s more to that story that can be triggering for the teenager so he sends her off with Skeets to look around to give the adults some privacy. Michael watches her for a moment before turning back to Ted.

“She’s a Daxamite. Darkseid invaded her planet four years ago and killed her parents. She was only nine at the time and didn’t have anyone else. I wasn’t going to leave her alone ... I couldn’t save everyone but I saved her. I adopted her soon after bringing her to Earth. She’s a sweet kid and so smart. I know what you’re thinking ... I’m the last person who should be a father. I try to do right by her.” Michael sighs for a moment as he explains. Rani however is in the background hovering in the air next to Skeets with her legs crossed.

Booster scratches at his beard for a moment. “My sister gave her an old Goldstar suit as a birthday gift and ever since Rani keeps trying to convince me to let her be my sidekick. I just want her to focus on being a normal teenager ... normal as one can be with the powers similar to Superman anyway.” He pauses for a moment. “She showed up when I was helping deal with something in New York with a few members of the Justice League. I tried getting her out of there but ... my device brought us here instead. It got broken in the process so we’re stuck. I’m not sure what to do, Teddy.” He doesn’t have any money and nowhere to go. He can’t ask Ted to give him anything because it wouldn’t be fair, would it? He has his own Booster probably waiting for him somewhere.

TED KORD: Teddy was struck by Booster’s new look. It wasn’t that he looked bad (not that it was his place to comment unless he was trying to get a rise out of the other guy) but Booster had always been so fastidious about his appearance and that had included making sure he was clean shaven twenty four seven. Teddy was pretty sure he’d only even seen him with a fine five o’clock shadow like twice and both times it had been because they were on a mission that went over a day. So he couldn’t help but clock it and spend a few moments taking it in. It made him look… older. 

Maybe he was older? He couldn’t be sure how much time Booster spent away (a day for him could be years for the other and vice-versa after all). The retort, while on point seemed to take a little bit too long and lack a lot of Booster’s usual zeal, enough to have Teddy frowning and wondering what’d happened to his friend. “No one ever.” He responded with a small smile, though the concern was probably easy to read on his face. Both would’ve continued but the teenager with him caught Teddy’s attention again and seeing how she clung to Booster was yet another surprise.

D-DAUGHTER!? Teddy was pretty sure that short circuited his mind for a good five seconds, his eyes wide staring at the pair and trying to catalogue similarities in facial structure, mannerisms and other indicators. She was too old! Even if Booster was a little older he wasn’t THAT old! Eventually he manages to raise an arm weakly and offer a “Nice to meet you too Rani.” In return. Not the best of greetings but he was trying to deal with a pretty earth-shattering revelation here!

“Oh my god you pulled a Batman.” He said quietly, not wanting Rani to hear, his eyes still fixed on the girl floating in the air with Skeets who offered Teddy a little flicker of his lights before turning back to the girl and doing as Booster said to occupy her. “You’re a father.” He repeated, “You. A parent. Of a super powered teenager.” He took a deep breath, “Okay. Okay… Okay, this is a thing that’s happened.” And Booster clearly loves her, that much is easy for even him to see.

“Michelle? Boos… how long have you been away for?” She was nine, that girl had to be in her teens so at least four years. What the hell!? “Oh sure yea, wanting a powered kid to be normal, that works out well.” He deadpanned, finally getting a sense of himself back. Fortunately, Booster telling him the predicament he’s in flicks his ‘look after Booster Gold’ switch on and he can somewhat function again. “Well the solution to that’s simple.” He smiled, “You and Rani can stay with me. I’ve got an apartment in the city and The Bug too, we’ll fix up your tech and help get you and Rani back to wherever you gotta be in the time stream. I’m not about to let you both go when you’re in a bind. You my bud.” He clapped Booster on the shoulder, having to reach up to do it. “Plus, your suits a mess man, you gotta take better care of it. I’ll fix it up for you when we get to my place.”

“Rani!” He called to the kid, taking charge of the situation, “You and Booster… Your dad are gonna stay with me for a little while, okay? Skeets, the Bug’ll give you the details and I’ve got a changing bay for you in there too.” He’d made one in case Skeets ever needed a nap in the Bug, even machines gotta catch their Z’s. “C’mon I bet you’re both hungry. I’ll order some food, you can both have the good stuff and I’ll have a crappy salad. Rani and you need to shower too, you’re both looking a little… less than clean. She can borrow some of my clothes and I brought some of yours with me when I moved up here.” It had felt wrong not to bring his ‘Booster Draw’ to Star City with him.

“Don’t worry man. This’ll be fine.” He grinned up at Booster, “So long as no one’s died, it can be fixed.”

MICHAEL CARTER: The beard originally manifested from his depression roughly seven years ago after all the memorial services that they held for his best friend. He couldn’t bring himself to care about being clean-shaven anymore when the grief felt so suffocating. He usually took so much care of his appearance — styling his hair a certain way, skincare treatments, and the obvious task of shaving any facial hair that grew overnight. He continued to lift weights as any kind of distraction but that would end up being only temporary. The sorrow always came back twice as strong. Eventually over the months Michelle would sit him down and express her worries. He couldn’t continue going on sabotaging himself and traveling back in time to see Ted from a distance. He never interacted with him but instead treated it as a way to replay memories. It wasn’t healthy but Michael missed his best friend. Nobody seemed to understand how unfair it was to have the ability to change an outcome but be told, ’no this is the way it has to be.’ His sister stuck around so Michael wouldn’t be alone and maybe that makes all the difference. He might have spiraled more if it weren’t for that. There was quite a lot of drinking after it settled in that the universe won’t let him save the Ted Kord from his universe. When Rani came into his life it thrilled Michelle to have a niece. They were a little family and can’t imagine how worried she must be when they disappeared.

There was shock written all over both of their faces. He always dreamt of what this moment would feel like. Those first few years were spent leaving his door unlocked waiting for Ted to walk in with some grand excuse for his absence. Maybe they would laugh about it but that never happened. Instead Michael needed to learn how to exist in a world without him. It doesn’t ever get easier, he thought that was bullshit but figured out how to live with it. He became a mentor for the first time in his life which had been interesting, never trained anyone before. He would respect Ted’s last wishes and become the new GOLD AND BLUE with Jaime.

He could tell immediately that the other version of himself wasn’t a father since the reveal resulted in such a surprised reaction. Maybe nobody would expect him of all people to raise a child but ended up being a natural without even realizing it at first. Her planet had been invaded, parents murdered, and having nowhere else to go. Michael wasn’t going to leave her alone, not when she was holding his hand every second they tried to flee from Darkseid. “I know! I can’t believe I’m a knockoff Batman now.” He jokes softly, despite the fact it’s not completely true due to how different the two heroes are. “It was unexpected but the best thing to ever happen to me, Teddy. She’s thirteen now … and I’m just trying to be the kind of father Rani deserves.” Michael knows that he isn’t perfect but wouldn’t change anything about the situation.

The offer live with him makes him feel happy but the hand on his shoulder is all a confirmation that Ted is really here. He wasn’t disappearing before his eyes and it takes all of his willpower not to start tearing up. The blonde just wishes it were possible to express how much he missed him without making this weird.  “You really wouldn’t mind? It would help us out since we really need something stable right now. I have to warn you …” The safety of his daughter comes before anything else. “While the power sets of Daxamites and Kryptonians are identical … their weaknesses aren’t. She becomes severely weak when coming in contact with lead instead of kryptonite.” What he has come to understand is that this could be fatal in some instances. “There’s no cure created for it yet.” He mentions that so Ted has the information too if they’re living together but knows any version of his best friend might take it upon himself to try looking into it. Maybe it also makes him emotional knowing that after seven long years his suit will be repaired from the best one for the job once again. Nobody ever sewed it back together quite like Beetle does. “Thanks … you know me, can’t sew to save my life.” Which is followed by a light chuckle as well.

Rani comes back over to join the adults, smiling brightly as Skeets isn’t too far behind. “Sleepover! Can we order pizza?” Her feet landing on the ground at this point while looking up at the two adults in the room. “Only a salad? Eat pizza with us!” She insists, not quite understanding the reason behind Ted not wanting to eat something greasy.

<You are always good to me, Mr. Kord. I look forward to catching up with the Bug.> Skeets responds with as much enthusiasm as one can expect from a robot.

The blonde just stands back admiring what was happening, getting a little emotional at the sight. He spent many sleepless nights daydreaming about this and now it’s real. He takes a step forward, trying not to get choked up and ruin the moment. “We could use a shower. I’m still covered in some alien guck.” He makes a disgusted face for a moment, sticking his tongue out instead as an attempt at bringing out his humorous side. The banter that’s always exchanged with Blue Beetle is one of a kind. Although the words that come out of his mouth next leaves Booster’s smile fading again.

“Y-yeah. I’m sure this will be —” He turns around for a moment, pulling his visor off his face to wipe away some tears that can’t be held back. The reminder that his best friend died and thee was nothing that can be done to fix it. Thee’s a second chance standing in front of him but that can’t erase the trauma from that loss. He can’t do this here, not now. He puts visor back on and faces everyone again. “Sorry, something was in my eye.” You’re a good actor so this lie wouldn’t raise any red flags. 

“So … you know any good pizza places?”

[dreamisawishyourheartmakes]

10.18.2020 

Thursday was not a good day. Let me tell you. 

I have let go of what happened but I think this is the last step for me to let things go for good. It has been on my mind but I don’t want to talk about it with my husband no more. I respect how he feels and don’t want to let it show no more nor let it bother me anymore. 

What happened was I made a post on my FB account about a shopping trip my husband took me on to a Whole Foods to spend $115 to get food that I could eat. I was dying for bread options. I do have some from a place I use my insurance but I wanted to see if there was a place that actually had bread that had less than 2 grams of protein more than 1 slice of bread. I found it and it was 1gram of protein for 2 slices of bread. HELL YES! The only BAD thing is that Whole Foods is expensive! Healthiness comes with a hefty price tag, that’s for sure. I have a rare metabolic disorder known as PKU(which is the shorter name). It basically means my liver is missing the enzyme that breaks down large amounts of protein. I can only have 8 grams of protein daily. For a very long time I did not follow the 8 grams of protein daily I was supposed to be doing me entire life. Anyway back to that post I made on FB. My cousin’s friend commented on it saying that I am a strong person and she could not imagine having to follow such a strict diet. I commented saying it was a diet of never having meat, seafood, chicken, dairy, etc. I also said that my sister went through it 3 times. My sister then posted saying “Yes, 3 times I went through it! It was extremely difficult to say the least. Even going on vacation and going out to eat at say a buffet, it was difficult. There is no such thing as eating out when you are pregnant. You technically shouldn’t just because it is harder to portion everything, unless you would be one of those people and bring measuring cups with you(i never was). But for what it’s worth, why eat at a buffet when what you’ll end up being able to eat there you can just eat at home. You would waste money honestly, so even though I knew eating out at a buffet was bad, I ate veggies and french fries and rice sometimes, knowing it was going to raise my level. But I told Kerri she should avoid eating out at all costs, but with her husband and his parents wanting to eat out often(NOW KEEP IN MIND I INVITED MY IN-LAWS TO COME PUMPKIN PICKING WITH MY HUSBAND and MY FAMILY and then MY MOTHER-IN-LAW SAYS SHE and HER HUSBAND CAN”T MAKE IT BUT IF WE GO OUT TO DINNER LATER LET HER KNOW...THERE WERE NO PLANS TO EAT OUT THAT DAY BECAUSE I TOLD MY HUSBAND I DIDN’T WANT TO DUE MY PRE-CON DIET BUT THEN I THOUGHT OF WANTING TO SEE THE IN-LAWS AND SAID WE WOULD GO TO A BUFFET WHICH IS MY BETTER OPTION BUT WAS 45 MINUTES AWAY FROM IN-LAWS...DID REALIZE SHE FIGURED WE WOULD GO TO DINNER UP THERE PLUS MY DAD CAN’T EAT A WHOLE BUNCH OF THINGS SO IT WORKS BETTER FOR HIM). Okay so back to finishing my sister’s comment off: that is going to be a huge problem. So she’s going to have a responsibility on her hands, basically making him and his parents understand the importance of this diet before and during pregnancy. After the pregnancy, it’s your choice as to what you want to do as far as the diet goes. But the ONE key thing in the PKU diet is the formula intake. Without that, the levels will stay high, not matter how good you watch what you eat. And while my sister goes food shopping at Whole Foods, I never did. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda” There was more but this is the part needed to understand what happened. I commented and said “Yeah ^^^^^^ Without my pku formula pills my levels would most likely be higher than they are now. Like a diabetic needs insulin a pku patient needs their formula to survive. The only problem there is the cost of the formula and without really good coverage no one can afford the cost and still we need many people in congress to support the nutrition equity act. It’s a bad battle but these people think ‘oh with controlling your diet with foods you’ll be fine’ WRONG! I don’t need my muscles breaking down because I’m trying to maintain low phe levels but not taking my formula! (Muscle breakdown happens when you don’t have formula and are taking in less formula or no formula at all). I also was reading about anabolism and catabolism. It’s quite complex but basically we need calories to keep levels lower too but we also need to lose body fat which also helps too(losing weight in pregnancy is not what any woman aims for) but you don’t want to lose muscle. It’s a complex diet that a lot of people do not understand and some doctors are like “What’s PKU?(It happened to me last year seeing a covering PCP doctor that has never treated a PKU patient nor ever heard of PKU before). So Thursday I get text from my mother-in-law “When you are done working at X-time we need to talk.” Well, I kind of was thinking “what happened now?” I thought it might have had something to do with a post on FB because what else could be wrong and if it were serious she would have called. I said to her text “Sure. What’s going on? Everything ok???” She says “Physically I’m ok. We will talk at x-time” Mind you I got stuck with training so I clocked out a few minutes later than my off time. I get a call on my phone and a minute after that first call comes another. I was finally able to look at my phone see I had 2 missed calls a minute a part from one another. Now I am in pain with my left arm trying to hustle and make dinner for myself on top of rearrange pots and pans so I can have better access to them when needed. I called my mother-in-law back on a different number so I could record what is being said exactly. YES, I RECORDED IT SO SHE CAN HEAR HOW SHE JUST TALKS AND TALKS AND DOESN’T LET YOU TALK WHEN NEEDED AND IF SHE DOES LET YOU TALK SHE DOES NOT ACKNOWLEDGE WHAT IS BEING SAID TO HER AND NEVER FINISHES WHAT SHE SAYS AND JUST GOES ON AND ON IGNORING ANYTHING YOU NEED HER TO HEAR. 

Well I will try and break down a 23 minute conversation of all her talking and me getting to say some things 3 different times. She basically told me she knows I(meaning me) don’t care and was asking what my sister was talking about airing on FB about eating out at buffets MIND YOU MY SISTER WAS GENERALLY SPEAKING AND NOT SPEAKING ABOUT LAST WEEKEND BUT SEE ASSUMPTIONS ARE MADE BECAUSE HIS MOTHER SITS ON FB AND READS EVERY LITTLE COMMENT MADE ON MY POSTS. SHE ASSUMED MY SISTER WAS TALKING ABOUT LAST WEEKEND when we were not planning to have dinner out. The only reason we talked about having it is so we could see his mother because YES I DO KNOW WE DON’T SEE MY HUSBAND’S FAMILY OFTEN. MY HUSBAND’S PARENTS DON’T SEE THEIR SON OFTEN BECAUSE HE WORKS 6 days a week and has ONE DAY OFF from his 2nd job. He then works his full-time job 5 DAYS A WEEK. She brings that up at the end of the conversation saying that I see my family a lot more and yet my sister doesn’t say anything about that. WHY WOULD SHE? THAT IS IRRELIVANT ANYWAY. I go to my parent’s house I take care of myself and my parents understand when I can’t do something, I CAN NOT DO IT. My in-laws though will push it and say “OH, THERE HAS TO BE SOMEWHERE YOU CAN HAVE SOMETHING. THERE ARE OPTIONS.” Right, there are BUT I should not even consider eating out because there is more to it like knowing every little ingredient in foods, weighing foods out, etc. Yes my sister did right out say in her comment “But I told Kerri she should avoid eating out at all costs, but with her husband and his parents wanting to eat out often that is going to be a huge problem.” YES SHE IS RIGHT because THEY DO LIKE TO EAT OUT. I know his mom wants to get me out of the house but do we always have to involve food? We can’t see a movie? We can’t go bowling(She bowls in a league)? We can’t go have our nails done? You can’t come down here and have dinner with me and we can cook together which she loves doing? I don’t get it. There are so many other options that don’t involve eating out and an option of coming here as she does not work and is not tied down anymore. I said to her “You know could have just come down here since I work from home and am off of work too late to drive an hour and 10 minutes away and I should have said that but I didn’t because I KNOW YOU WON’T MAKE THAT COMMUTE SINCE IT’S TOO FAR FOR YOU/” She didn’t know what to say. She said “Yeah, well that is true, but yeah well you know maybe we can take turns going back and forth eating at each other’s place” YEAH OKAY BECAUSE THAT WON’T HAPPEN. HER SON KNOWS IT TOO BECAUSE THEY NEVER PICK UP THE PHONE TO ASK IF THEY CAN COME HERE BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS TELL ME THAT THEY NEVER SEE THEIR SON.....NOT MY FAULT. WE CAN’T AND WILL NOT BE TRAVELING UP THERE ALL THE TIME AND WE HAVE BEEN. GET OVER IT. 94 year old landlord drives more than my own mother-in-law who is 63! 

Anyway, I need to get done. I have to do some laundry! 

My sister was generally speaking and because the WORD BUFFET WAS IN IT FROM MY SISTER’S PAST EXPERIENCE EATING OUT BUFFETS KNOWS HOW HARD AND TOUGH IT IS TO DO SO and HOW BAD THAT IS AND CAN ABSOLUTELY RAISE PHE LEVELS. 

[meditativeyoga]

Make Everyday Noise a Mindfulness Practice

Everyday sounds could be irritating and disruptive -- or they could offer another automobile for mindfulness.

I began my media profession back in high institution, as DJ Captain Kilowatt on a little Leading 40 rock terminal. For more than 30 years, I have actually delighted in forming music, voices, as well as sound results into engaging broadcasts, but my work has had an unanticipated negative effects: I have actually come to be extra conscious noise than lots of people I know.

Thousands of hrs spent in soundproof studios with sophisticated audio devices believe contributed to my keen understanding of the sea of vibrations through which we swim. Consequently, I connect my ears when motorbikes holler by, I retreat from wailing youngsters, and also loud films make me cringe.

Our world is a noisy area, as well as it's obtaining noisier regularly. Statistics verify what my experience suggests: Individuals have actually ended up being so inured to noise that they are actually injured by it. A testing of concerning 64,000 Americans by the League for the Hard of Hearing discovered that between 1982 and 2000, the occurrence of measurable hearing loss enhanced by 15 to 60 percent, depending on the age team. While this suggests that staying clear of unnecessary noise is a healthy and balanced approach, that's not constantly feasible. In my very own adaptation to this truth, I've found a means to transform uninvited sound right into a welcome benefit.

Once a curse, my acoustic acuity has ended up being an useful gift in my reflection technique. I currently use nonjudgmental hearing as a centerpiece for alert, moment-to-moment perception. I let city noises -- from the snarl of mower to the honking of car horns -- play a function just like that of breath, emotion, believed, as well as bodily experience when I look for one-pointed attention.

In a 1999 dharma talk that was offered at the Barre Center for Buddhist Research studies in Barre, Massachusetts, vipassana meditation educator Christina Feldman explained what might occur when we focus on a solitary things of focus, such as sound. This method of purposeful emphasis, she noted, 'challenges our long-lasting routines of distractedness and grasping.' The obstacle comes from the reality that 'despite our intent to apply and also maintain one-pointedness, the mind proceeds to regurgitate its habitual patterns and come to be lost in its own busy-ness.'

Fortunately, as we enable sounds to flow unblocked with our awareness -- without obtaining attracted into evaluation, judgment, as well as choice -- we can come to be superior at resting steadly through all type of stimulations that might otherwise irritate, distract, or disrupt us.

Tuning In to Awareness

In my own technique, the very first step in operation sound masterfully is just to notice just what I am hearing. This involves taking a complete aural stock. In the exact same means that I bring concentrated recognition to the cycles of breathing in my daily meditation practice, I come to be conscientious to what is jumping off my ears, consisting of lots of sounds which I am typically subconscious. As I slow my mind to listen, each ear imitates a huge antenna, collecting perceptions from close to and also far. I undoubtedly observe that every place has its very own 'audio trademark,' as special as a fingerprint.

At house, I am welcomed by just what knows: a humming refrigerator, the fizz of cars and trucks on a close-by road, a ticking clock, a hissing water heating system, breeze-rustled fallen leaves, and also the skittering of birds or squirrels on my roof covering. In a nearby reflection hall I frequent, these audios are replaced by the drone of airplanes, the whine of alarms, the buzz of fluorescent lamps, smothered voices from an adjacent area, and also the clang of pots in the cooking area. Obviously, I always experience the mundane audios of the human body, from tummy gurgling as well as nose sniffling to throat clearing up and itch scraping. With interest, the ceaseless cavalcade of noises becomes a meditation.

To try this kind of attentiveness on your very own, select a time in the house when you are not likely to be interrupted for a minimum of 20 mins, after that think a comfortable seatsed position. Initially, direct awareness to your breath, adhering to the sensations in your body that accompany the process of breathing. After a couple of mins, deliberately and mindfully change the focus to your sense of hearing. Resisting need to call or get included with the different audios circulating around you, merely examine them. Notification just how some noises develop and also vanish rapidly, or are heard just as soon as, while others are consistent and also recurring. Observe the different qualities each sound displays and the level of your need to associate a noise with a mental image, label, or emotion.

As you listen, cultivate a top quality of separated, choiceless awareness that enables this acoustic mélange to pass easily with your awareness, like a cloud drifting silently with the sky. If you locate that your mind has actually been captured by a specific sound, probably expiring right into a reverie caused by it, note the fact that this has actually occurred and afterwards, without judgment, return to a nonclinging recognition of audio. Throughout your first resting, this noting and also letting go could take place lot of times. With practice, however, the events need to come to be much less constant. The essential point is to come to be mindful of your add-on and also create the capacity to launch it.

Once you have actually experienced 'sound reflection' in the house, experiment with it at other locations, such as your office, health club, or college, or while taking a trip. If you make use of public transportation, attempt this practice while commuting. Urban sounds could be sidetracking initially, however several meditators have actually told me that with time, their connections with sounds that when frustrated them moved significantly. I advise you to explore sound meditation on a routine basis for at the very least a month prior to attracting any type of conclusions concerning your own experience. Consider adding it to the repertoire of techniques that help you create a deeper understanding of your very own consciousness.

Simplicity, Peace, and Poise

This sort of attunement is a helpful discipline at any type of time, so to hone your sensory recognition of the here and now moment. It takes genuine initiative to bring the fresh, alert 'beginner's mind' to prevalent sensory stimulations. That's because the alienation from our bodies that a lot of us feel results, partly, from a well-intended as well as deeply set coping method. Confronted with an incessant parade of acoustic justifications, we often tend to lessen our understanding of daily noises unless something appears out of whack. We make use of numerous psychological tricks to complete this, disregarding the ordinary in order to minimize diversion and minimize irritability.

It's easy, obviously, to persuade ourselves that numerous sounds are obnoxious. I make sure each of us could call some pet peeves. Mine consist of trash vehicles at 5:30 a.m. as well as fallen leave blowers during breakfast. I've learned that the more difficult path is not to measure the worth of such audios, however to approve them in a true spirit of equanimity. This does not necessarily indicate we have neutral feelings about such invasions, instead, it means we are not so purchased our memorizing reactions that we could not separate ourselves from such responses.

The Buddha is stated to have actually educated that the crazy get in touch with the world mostly via their physical detects, whereas the sensible seek to understand the nature of those links. As we expand better, some Buddhist scholars suggest, we might progress able to preserve our inner tranquility as well as peacefulness in the midst of whatever experiences challenge us, including unwanted noise. Rather than being swept away by the raw power of a noise or by our identification with just what we think is wrong with the sound, we discover how to allow those vibrations clean over us without disruption. By doing this, we create a clear hearing of our hearts and also minds.

One of one of the most highly regarded contemporary teachers of yoga, B.K.S. Iyengar, resembled this sentiment when he wrote in his publication Yoga: The Path to All natural Health (DK Publishing, 2001), 'The key purpose of yoga is to restore the mind to simplicity, peace, as well as poise, and also cost-free it from complication as well as distress.' In silent sittinged reflection (dhyana) and observance (niyama), as in our asana technique, we are tested regularly by just what our hearing -- as well as other physical sense -- stirs within us. Bringing mindfulness as well as restriction (yama) to our ears resembles bringing mindful attention to our breath, equilibrium, and muscle mass as we move through asanas. Both methods could end up being cars for establishing the health-promoting qualities of clear recognition and also releasing. Yoga exercise utilizes the term parinamavada to refer to the approval of consistent change that parallels this frame of mind. Yet such equanimity is not conveniently available within any contemplative method if sound features as a display, irritant, or diversion.

The wise poet Rumi talked to the human tendency toward irritability and also interruption in his poem 'Just Breath': 'There is a method between voice as well as presence where details flows./ In disciplined silence it opens./ With wandering talk it closes.' Rumi could not have prepared for the modern-day Tower of Babel that generates consistent discord, yet I believe his injunction to listen attentively would be duplicated with much more emphasis if he still strolled -- as well as listened -- amongst us today.

Richard Mahler is an independent author and also instructor of mindfulness-based tension reduction that splits his time in between Santa Cruz, The golden state, and also Santa Fe, New Mexico. His most recent publication is Stillness: Daily Present of Solitude.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Jonah (ao3 link)

Fandom: Flash, Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Barry Allen/Mick Rory/Leonard Snart Series: Flashwave Week 2018 (Destiny Series)

Summary: In which Barry goes to sleep and wakes up to a very different universe.

And it's all because Leonard "Destiny of the Endless" Snart couldn't keep his big mouth shut while reading the literal Book of Destiny.

Oh, well.

A/N: @flashwaveweek - Flashwave Week: Accidental Marriage

——————————————————————————————

Barry, as he so often does, wakes up feeling tired.

Not physically, of course; his powers make sure that even minimal amounts of sleep are enough to fully revive him.

Wouldn't want the world to go without one its heroes, Barry thinks bitterly.

Most of his mornings are spent like this, now: awake, but trapped in bitterness and regret. He's not sure when exactly it started, this endless frozen atrophied bitterness - when Joe's new baby died, maybe, or when Wally was killed, or when Caitlin was mind-wiped until she didn't remember any of them, or when Cisco went temporarily evil and killed so many people that even the defense of mind control didn't swing the jury back in his favor.

He has new members of Team Flash to back him now, but it's not the same. He knows he can't let himself get close to them or they'll just be targets as well, more than they already are.

Everyone he's close to is a target.

Like Iris.

Oh, Iris...

Maybe that's when the bitterness started, when Iris sat him down - months ago, now - and held his hands and told him that while she still loved him, she thought it'd be better for both of them if they weren't married anymore.

Barry doesn't blame her. He wouldn't want to be friends with a Jonah like him, either: mysterious disappearances at every turn, weird twists and turns what feels like every week, never any normal life, and poisonous honey to draw in every maniacal villain in existence, it felt like.

Even the Justice League, in which he put so much hope, is fracturing: Batman's latest protégé brutally murdered and Batman lashing out against them all as a result, Superman's identity and Earth parents under threat, Diana offered an irresistible chance to go home again for a rest, Hal sent far away...no one has time or interest in their alliance beyond the moments of utter necessity, which seem to happen about once a year or so.

Nothing like the group of friends who can understand the pressures of heroism that Barry wanted it to be.

And that leads him back to where he is: bitter and tired and unable to get up.

"Bar!" Iris' voice rings through the door, causing Barry to violently start. Iris hasn't lived in what was once their mutual apartment since she'd moved back home to take care of Joe, who was near-catatonic with grief. Sure, she still had a key, but she never used it... "Barry Allen, I know you have super-speed, but if you don't get up now, you're going to be late. Or, more importantly, we're going to be late!"

Barry doesn't recall any plans he had with Iris. Honestly, Barry doesn't recall the last time he spoke with Iris, even though (even after everything) she's still his anchor.

Is this another trick? Another villain's scheme?

Only one way to find out.

He gets dressed and goes into the kitchen, where Iris is rifling through the fridge, though she looks up when he walks in.

"There you are, lazybones," she says, grinning at him, and Barry has to take a step back, because he hasn't seen Iris this healthy, this whole, this happy in - years. Even before she moved out. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet."

"Cold feet?" Barry echoes helplessly.

"More like hot feet, I'd say," another voice says with a laugh from his blind spot, and now Barry's really twitching because it's been forever since he heard that voice, it can't be, he's dead, but no, Barry turns and there he is.

Eddie Thawne is sitting at Barry's kitchen table with a newspaper and a wedding ring.

"You're letting the puns get to you, babe," Iris says, going over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You planning to go villain on us?"

"Hey, I don't necessarily get my puns from the villains," Eddie protests mildly, smiling up at her with that devoted, loving gaze he's always had for Iris, the one that won him Barry's affection even despite their competition. "Maybe I get it from my wonderful pun-using award-winning journalist wife. Have you considered that possibility, Mrs. West?"

"I have indeed, Mr. West," Iris says haughtily, but with a grin. "And I'll have you know that your wife just reports what's out there - Barry, you're pale. Did you forget your midnight snack again? You know your metabolism goes screwy when you don't eat enough."

Barry shakes his head and shrugs. He can't think of what to say. He can't think of - anything.

They look so happy.

"Sit and eat," Eddie says, looking at him with a frown. "Did we - did we actually wake you up? We didn't mean to."

"Like Barry would've slept through our kids getting ready to go school," Iris says, but she sounds doubtful. "They're total elephants and we do live right upstairs..."

Barry and Iris didn't have kids. They'd wanted to, of course, in the beginning, but then there was what happened to Nora and they'd never quite managed to get over that enough to start trying, not before the tragedies started - or worsened, really, it wasn't like their lives weren't full of tragedy before...

"Nora?" he croaks.

"No, Don and Dawn," Iris says, looking puzzled. "They're the maniacal little kindergarteners; little Nora's still cooking." She taps her belly, which now that Barry pays attention he notices is curved out slightly. "As you well know. Are you okay?"

Barry opens his mouth to tell them that there's been a timeline alteration, that someone's changed something - Eddie's alive, after all, and he shouldn't be - but then he stops.

If he tells them there's a timeline alteration, then they'll want to help him try to fix it.

They'll want to send him back.

Back to a world where he lives in his big apartment alone with the wreck of all his dreams, where Iris has quit her job to care for Joe, where...his friends...his friends...

"I think I have temporary amnesia," Barry says apologetically. "Can you catch me back up?"

"Uh, sure," Iris says, blinking at him. "Is this a Justice League thing?"

Barry shrugs apologetically.

"I'm going to text Diana very angrily about this," Iris says, who's never had Diana's phone number. No one had Diana's phone number, and once she went back to Thermiscyra it was a moot point anyway. "Or maybe Selina."

"Selina?"

"Batman's wife? Catwoman?"

"Oh," Barry says faintly. "Right. Her."

Batman got married?!

"Barry, please sit and eat something," Eddie says, coming over and putting a warm hand on his back. "Whatever's gone wrong, we'll help you fix it, you know that."

"I know," Barry says, his throat tight. "Uh. Can I ask you - about everyone else?"

"Sure," Iris says. "But then - as soon as we finish our appointments today - we're taking you to STAR Labs for Caitlin to check you."

"Caitlin's - at STAR Labs?"

"Well, no," Eddie says. "Only sometimes. She got that job in that hospital - Head of the Metahuman Wing, remember? Her and Killer Frost both?"

"Of course he doesn't remember, Eddie," Iris says. "He has amnesia."

"Well, I don't know how far back the amnesia goes -"

"Cisco?" Barry interrupts, a little desperately. "Joe?"

"Cisco's at STAR Labs," Iris agrees, clearly puzzled. "Probably setting up for his first class of the day -"

"Class?"

"Yeah, the Flash Engineering Corps," Eddie says, looking amused. "Best scholarship program in the Twin Cities - plus you get to work for a superhero while saving up for college. Iris' idea, of course."

"Shush, you. Joe's - well, Joe's probably dropping Jenna off at school after her dentist appointment, then dropping Cecile off at the DA's office, and then going into work at the CCPD as usual, I guess?"

Barry swallows hard. Caitlin herself, Cisco free, Joe aware...

There's got to be a catch.

"Oh, crap," Iris says abruptly. "Our appointment! Barry, we can deal with your amnesia later, but if we miss this, they won't let us have another, and then you won't have a suit for your wedding!"

...wait, what?

"Uh," Barry says.

"Listen, here, Barry Allen," Iris says. "I know you and Mick would probably get married in your underwear and a bathrobe if we let you, but damnit that is not going you happen, you get me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Barry says automatically, saluting her so that she laughs and punches his arm lightly.

His mind is still reeling. Mick? As in, Mick Rory? Formerly the supervillain Heatwave, most recently member of the Legends, kind of depressed almost all the time?

They're getting married?!

This can’t be right.

Barry checks his phone for confirmation. There’s a WhatsApp group chat titled “Justice League” that’s filled with jokes, that’s the first thing he notices – did Batman really just send around a bat emoji? really? will wonders never cease? – but Barry’s Facebook definitely seems to suggest that he’s marrying Mick Rory and that everyone is sending him congratulations on it.

“Barry,” Iris says. “Appointment. Time to get moving.”

There's a knock at the door.

"I've got it," Eddie says, and is at the door opening it before Barry can say anything - you don't open doors, you don't know who's waiting behind those doors with a gun and a grudge, that's how we lost Cecile, except here they didn't lose Cecile. "Oh, Snart, what are you doing here?"

Snart?

Wait, no, this is good - in Barry's universe, Snart had recently returned from the dead to assume some sort of mystical magical position or something, something Constantine called "Destiny of the Endless". Barry's not entirely sure what he does - it seems to involve a lot of reading - but it did mean that he spends most of his days in his garden house outside of time.

And if he's outside of time, he wouldn't be affected by the timeline changes!

"- just need to borrow Barry for a bit," Snart is saying apologetically. His hood is up over his head and his eyes are glowing that inhuman blue that Barry's still not used to, and he has his ridiculous Book in hand; he's definitely still Destiny here. "I'll get him to the fitting, don't worry; just meet us there."

"Fine, I'm trusting you," Iris says, shaking her head at him. "C'mon, Eddie; you can drop me off before you go to work - Barry will catch up later, apparently. But don't you dare be late, Bar!"

"Uh," Barry says.

"Later than usual," she amends.

"Okay," he says, because that seems slightly more plausible.

They leave and Barry turns onto Snart. "Do you know -" he starts, only for Snart to interrupt.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Barry stares at him. "Oh god," he says. "It's affected you, too."

Snart scowls at him. "It has not," he snaps. "But I promised Mick those'd be the first words out of my mouth."

That seemed pretty plausible. Mick could get Snart to do just about anything.

"And I am," Snart adds grudgingly. "Sorry. I guess."

That sounds more like it.

"You're behind the timeline change?"

Snart winces. "Bit more than a timeline change," he says. "I'm - listen, I'm new at this whole Destiny thing, okay?"

"...yeah..?"

"I was - multitasking."

Barry's never heard that word imbued with such gravitas portending doom.

(Does the ability to do that come with the Destiny job?)

"Okay, and?" he asks.

"Turns out that's a bad idea," Len says grimly.

"What did you do, Snart?"

"I was reading from the Book," Snart says. "You know, the one that describes how reality operates?"

He shakes it pointedly.

Barry just gives him a look.

"Anyway, Mick was on my case about - something - and he mentioned you a few times - as a good influence or something - and, uh, I may have lost my temper a bit -"

"Snart. What did you do."

"I said, 'if you like Barry Allen so much, maybe you should marry him'," Snart says, looking hideously embarrassed.

As he should.

"What are you, five?" Barry asks. "I haven't heard that used as a comeback since first grade."

Possibly third. Maybe even fifth.

Barry was never really good at comebacks.

That's not the point.

"The point is," Snart says, "is that by saying that while reading the Book, reality got a little...confused."

"Confused," Barry says flatly.

"It - may have reshuffled itself into a world in which you and Mick are getting married."

“No kidding,” Barry says. He’s already figured that out. “And I don’t remember the new backstory because…?”

“Speed Force,” Snart says with a shrug. “Protects you from timeline shifts for the most part, or at least your memories. You should start getting the memories from this timeline in a few months, though.”

“Just like it was with Flashpoint?” It’d taken all summer before Barry’s old memories started fading in favor of the new ones.

“Yeah, like that,” Snart says.

Barry considers this. “…can it be changed back?” he asks after a long moment.

“It can,” Snart says. “But Mick doesn’t really want to – there’s some friends of his on the Legends that died. Sometimes in pretty nasty ways. Anyway, they’re back now. But he says I have to check with you as to what you want.”

“My memories of this world will start coming in in a few months?”

“Yeah. You’ll still remember the old world, though; it’ll just be overlaid with, like, important event memories so that you're not always asking about backstory.”

“Okay, then,” Barry says.

“…what does that mean?” Snart asks suspiciously.

“It means ‘okay’,” Barry says. “Thus far, this world seems a lot better than the one I left behind so, you know, screw that.”

He wasn't able to stay in Flashpoint because what he had to give up was so great, but the world he's left behind now? The world of misery and death and the endless despair of being a Jonah?

Seriously.

Screw that.

“You have a whole brand new set of enemies,” Snart warns him.

“Not exactly a new experience,” Barry says with a shrug. “Cisco and Caitlin can catch me up until I get the memories.”

“My sister’s developed plant-related powers and lives in Gotham now.”

“…weird and not exactly on-theme for her, but that sounds like Batman’s problem, not mine.”

“You kind of have to marry Mick.”

“Have to?”

“The entire reality rewrite is based on it,” Snart says. “The whole thing won’t fix into place until you both say ‘I do.’”

“But we could theoretically get divorced afterwards?”

“Yeah, no problem. It’d take you a year, legally speaking, but you can do it.”

A year married to Mick Rory, in exchange for Iris happily married with kids (and living upstairs, no less), Joe still functional, Cisco free and teaching, Caitlin at a hospital, a proper Justice League friendship group, and even some of the Legends brought back?

Yeah, like that’s a tough choice.

“I’m in,” Barry says. “Can I talk with Mick about this? He remembers everything, right?”

“Yes, he does, and he’s coming back tomorrow,” Snart says. “Legends, you know, they’re not always great on timing.”

“I do know that,” Barry says. “Uh – how does Mick feel about it? The marriage thing? Does he just want to pretend our way through it, or…?”

It’s not like Barry would really object if Mick wanted to give the marriage thing an actual go. He’s touch-starved, he’s apparently single, and he’s always been aware that Mick is ridiculously hot.

No pun intended.

(Damnit, villains!)

Snart smirks.

“Like I said,” he drawls. “He likes you. In fact, he likes you so much that he oughta marry you – and look at that, so you are.”

Barry shakes his head. “Whatever,” he says. He’ll talk about it with Mick directly; that’ll make more sense. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a suit fitting to go to.”

Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’s arrived early enough to still help out with the cake-tasting selection…

(Mick ends up making all the cake samples. Barry would marry him just for that.)