#long lost relative

[egsoon]

Lion

طفل هندي يبلغ من العمر خمس سنوات يضيع في شوارع كلكتا ، على بعد آلاف الكيلومترات من المنزل. لقد نجا من العديد من التحديات قبل أن يتم تبنيه من قبل زوجين في أستراليا ؛ بعد 25 عامًا ، شرع في العثور على أسرته المفقودة.

[girlkisserr]

heres my piece from the Hallowhome Zine! thank you to the mods for giving me this opportunity

Bonus drafts below

first piece + laid out idea: i wasnt satisfied with it seeing as it felt. empty

second draft: idea was there but i couldnt make the 3d aspect look nice at all

final is whats posted, and i actually took the palette from here! milk candy specifically, so thank you to OP for that

[pestercide]

I dunno if anyone here gaf about Skylanders but one of my longest held headcanons is that Stealth Elf and Flameslinger are siblings or cousins

Idk I just like to think they're related pff

[silverwhittlingknife]

How do you feel about Jack Drake?? What are your thoughts on him and Tim’s relationship?

Anon, I hope you were interested in a novel, because look, I am fascinated by Jack Drake.  He’s key to a whole lot of what I find compelling about Tim as a character, and if I were in charge of DC, I’d bring him back to life.  This would make Tim unhappy but would IMO make for good plotlines.

Jack and Tim’s relationship is Complicated (TM)...

Jack and Tim hug in Nightwing 20 / Jack impulsively yanks a TV out of the wall in Robin 45 / Tim grieves in Identity Crisis

“I could tell the truth.  But I don’t.” - Robin 66

...and it involves a whole lot of Tim lying, and feeling guilty about lying, and thinking about telling the truth, and choosing again and again to keep lying.

And I think that’s great.

Below the cut:

Shorter version - key points about Jack

Really long version - my gentler take (vigilantism is choir and Jack loves sports) vs. my harsher take (Jack has some major flaws)

Final thoughts

Shorter version - key points about Jack:

He’s a bad parent.  He’s self-centered, he consistently prioritizes his own comfort and interests over his son’s, and when upset, he does things like order Tim off to boarding school.

But he’s never a bad parent in an actionable way.  He’s not like David Cain or Arthur Brown, who are abusive monsters.  Jack’s not a monster!  He just...kinda sucks.

He genuinely loves Tim. If Jack’s aware that Tim’s disappeared or is in trouble, he’s always worried and upset.  He periodically resolves to be a better dad, and IMO he’s always sincere.

And Tim loves him, a lot.  Tim’s protective of him and worries about him when he’s kidnapped or in danger, and when they’re reunited, Tim’s really relieved and usually hugs him (and Jack hugs back!). 

...But they have very little in common, and that’s a problem. Jack doesn’t value the things that Tim values, or respect the people that Tim admires, or care about the things that Tim’s interested in.  Tim lies to him a lot, but that’s partly because he correctly guesses Jack wouldn’t respond well if he knew the truth of what Tim’s up to.

The Batfamily is a surrogate family that Tim’s drawn to because of the ways his real family doesn’t meet his emotional needs…but also he feels guilty about that and disloyal. (And to the extent that his dad recognizes what’s going on, he's jealous and resentful!)

Very long version:

(LISTEN I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS)

Okay!  So first: Jack’s a character who IMO is pretty up for interpretation.  You can interpret him very charitably, and make excuses for the bad behavior, and fill in the blanks sympathetically when situations are ambiguous; or you can interpret him uncharitably, and emphasize the bad behavior. I don’t think either approach is invalid - it depends on what kind of story you’re interested in!  I have enjoyed Bad Dad stories and also stories that redeem Jack.

My personal take on canon is that Jack and Tim’s relationship is in a gray area.  Jack's definitely neglectful, and he does prioritize other things over Tim, but he’s never so bad that Tim can easily reject him, and he's never so bad that Bruce could justify taking Tim away.  He's just...not great.  Tim loves him, and feels loyal to him, but it’s a very mixed-up complicated love.

I have a gentler take and a harsher one which I switch between as the spirit moves me. xD

My Gentler Take (tl;dr: vigilantism is choir and Jack loves sports)

Here’s the core conflict: Jack and Tim are very different people with different values.  Tim idolizes Bruce and Dick and vigilantism, and secretly gets involved, knowing his dad will hate it. He gets increasingly wrapped up in his secret world and lies to his dad...because if his dad finds out, he’ll make Tim quit.

This is a great setup for an ongoing comic.  It’s practical, because it provides endless potential for plotlines, and it’s nicely thematic, because it maps closely onto relatable real-life situations with extracurricular activities:

Tim the drama nerd whose dad thinks he’s playing football and not in the school play; 

Tim the closeted-queer kid secretly getting involved in his school’s politically-active Gay-Straight Alliance; 

Tim the choir kid whose dad only values making money and wants him to go into the family business (and Tim keeps promising himself he'll give up choir soon, definitely soon, but maybe he'll stay in just a liiiittle longer, because they need him, you see, the last tenor left town, so...); 

Tim the computer geek with the sports-obsessed dad (this one’s just canon);

etc. etc.  

The extracurricular metaphor works pretty well for Tim’s relationship to vigilantism.  Tim's involved in his "extracurricular" because he genuinely thinks it's important and fulfilling, and he values it and wants to be good at it. He idolizes Bruce and Dick because they're good at it. He's been collecting information about it since he was a little kid, and hiding it from his parents because he knows they wouldn't approve. And mayyyybe there's also an element of low-key rebellion against his dad, and maybe that's secretly part of the appeal. And yet also as Tim gets more and more invested, he starts to daydream: maybe I could tell my dad and he'd be proud of me and supportive. But he doesn't, because actually he knows his dad would be upset and angry and make him quit.

And - again, just like with lonely kids and extracurricular hobbies - one of the things that happens is that Tim starts getting his unfilled emotional needs met ... by people he knows through this secret hobby. And people like Bruce and Dick start turning into a surrogate family. Which Tim feels guilty about. And also as Tim gets more and more wrapped up in their world, he has to lie to his dad even more, which means the distance between Tim and his dad gets bigger and bigger and more and more unfixable.

I love this dilemma. It's simple, it's recognizable, it provides endless sources for conflict, and there's no obvious solution! Tim can't tell Jack: he'll make Tim quit! And Tim doesn't want to quit, because he loves choir / art / theater / whatever.  Yeah, it’s difficult, and there are challenges, and sometimes he has doubts...but at the end of the day, he cares about it a lot.  And everything he values is there, and all the people he admires and cares about are there, and all he wants in the world is to feel like he's one of them and belongs there. So he has to lie, even though he doesn't want to lie, and he feels guilty about it...

...but also he ends up lying more and more.

(Sidenote: I think it's important that Tim chooses to keep lying - Tim's narration often glosses this as "I have to lie to my dad," and that's certainly how it feels to Tim, but this... isn't quite true. He has to lie to his dad, because if he doesn't, his dad will get mad at him and try to stop him, not because he literally has no choice about it.)

Other Reasons Why I Like The "Secret Extracurricular" Interpretation

(tl;dr it complicates not just Tim's relationship with his dad, but also all his other relationships)

Tim's problems have some obvious parallels to Steph and Cass, who both become vigilantes while rejecting their evil supervillain dads. But Jack isn't evil. And that means the Tim-and-Jack relationship is ambiguous and complicated in ways that I like. Steph and Cass can just leave their Bad Dads in prison, and say good riddance, and feel very righteous and triumphant about it! Tim’s more complicated. Tim gets into vigilantism ostensibly out of duty and altruism, but secretly, he's also involved for straight-up selfish self-fulfillment reasons. He's lonely, and bored, and his life feels pointless, but he thinks that Bruce and Dick are cool and amazing and he wants to be a part of the things that they do.  When his dad gets jealous of Tim’s relationship to Bruce, and feels like Tim’s looking for a surrogate family, he’s... not wrong.

And the ways in which Jack is not Actionably Bad complicate things from Bruce's POV.  If Jack was a straight-up villain, it’d be an easy call to keep in touch when Jack finds out and makes Tim quit...but he’s not a villain, not really.  So what do you do?  Do you try to surreptitiously stay in touch with Tim even though you’re ignoring his dad’s express wishes and thus forcing Tim to sneak around?  Do you respect his dad’s wishes and stay away from Tim even though you have a years-long relationship at this point?  

Again: a bit similar to the extracurricular analogy.  Say you’re the choir director and you’ve built this whole relationship with a kid in the choir, and you’re an important mentor to him and you care about him etc. etc. etc.... and then right before a big performance, his dad finds out he’s been secretly involved, and yanks him out.  How would you react?  Well, maybe kind of in some of the ways Bruce reacts.  You replace him. You’re annoyed with him. You miss him. You want him to come back. You’re also worried about him.  You’re upset with his dad.  But also... what should you do, exactly?

Bruce and Alfred and Dick care about Tim as if he were part of their family, but he’s not part of their family, and there’s a lot of interesting tension there.

My Harsher Take

Jack never hits his son.  But his temper is a big deal.

In his worst moments, he takes out his anger on Tim’s stuff - wrecking his room, or ripping his TV out of the wall and confiscating it.  When he’s worried about Tim, he usually expresses that fear by yelling at him / punishing him / sending him away - threatening to send him to boarding school in Metropolis in Robin III, or threatening to send him to military school abroad in Robin 92, or actually forcing him to go to an all-boys' boarding school post-NML.  

This is bad behavior!  It is Not Good!  

And you can easily connect the dots to a bunch of Tim’s terrible coping mechanisms, like the constant lying and or the fact that Tim’s go-to methods for dealing with interpersonal conflict are 1) repress it and pretend it never happened (most of his fights with Bruce), 2) withdraw from the relationship until he can pretend the conflict doesn’t exist (when his friends get mad at him in YJ, he quits the team for a while), or 3) literally run away from home.

Also, Jack is a Manly Man with firm opinions about how men behave vs. how women behave, and he thinks boys shouldn’t be scared and thinks Tim should date hot girls and pushes Tim to work out and wants him to play football and expresses period-typical sexism, etc. etc. etc. ... and though obviously this wasn’t what the writers had in mind at the time, all of that is certainly interesting to read backwards in the light of Tim as a queer character.

More Disorganized Thoughts on Jack Drake

Tim’s our hero, so we’re naturally more sympathetic to him, but it’s also true that relationships are a two-way street, and Tim doesn’t value any of the things his dad values, either.  Jack at various points is shown to care about grades, business, money, boarding schools, archeology, football, a kind of macho bragging-about-dating-hot-women ethos, and a very public and performative kind of caring. Tim tends to respond with discomfort or disinterest or even disgust.  When Jack gets on TV to try to rally the government to save his son from No Man’s Land, Tim isn’t touched—he’s mortified.  When Jack makes some bad investments and loses money, Jack’s deeply upset and his self-image is majorly impacted, and far from being sympathetic, Tim’s annoyed and kind of contemptuous of the idea that this is a problem.  Jack thinks fishing in the early morning and going to tennis matches is a fun father-son activity; Tim finds it exhausting and tedious.  And so on.

This means that Tim often longs to be closer to his dad in theory, but this longing is more tied to fantasy than to reality. He rarely seems to enjoy spending time with His-Dad-The-Actual-Person.  So for example, when Tim’s deadly ill with the Clench, he has an extremely poignant fever dream about telling his dad the truth and getting hugged…even as he insists in real-life to Alfred and Dick that he does not want them to tell his dad what’s going on.

The same is true of Jack, who IMO genuinely wants to be closer to his son and is continually declaring that he’s going to turn over a new leaf and get closer to his son…and just as continually backs out of activities or loses his temper when faced with spending time with his actual son.

Tim and his dad sadly get along best—by far—in Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder situations.  When Jack gets kidnapped or is in danger, Tim worries for him (and Tim grieves him deeply when he dies).  When Tim disappears or runs away, Jack’s genuinely worried about him.  So e.g. they have a really moving emotional reunion and hug when the earthquake hits Gotham, and Tim panics about his dad’s safety and comes running home (and meanwhile Jack’s been panicked about Tim’s safety!).  It’s the day-to-day, regular life stuff where they don’t connect.

Jack's written quite differently by different writers. Mostly, Tim's parents are at their least likable in his early appearances and early miniseries (this is where you get, for example, Jack and Janet being nasty at each other while a pained employee looks on, and Tim disappointed to once again get news of where his parents are via postcard - "I guess that sums them up! Never know where they’re going to be–or when–or even how long!” - and Tim alone on school break, and Bruce and Alfred thinking there's something weird going on with Tim's parents, etc. etc.). Jack's more sympathetic but still often unlikable in most of Tim's Robin solo, and he's almost invisible (but positively treated if he does show up) in Tim's team books.

For obvious reasons, Jack's remembered way more sympathetically after his death. Tim's completely devastated by Jack's murder, which he arrives moments too late to prevent, and he basically never gets over it. We see him grieving Jack again and again in Robin, and also in Teen Titans, and also in Resurrection, and again in the Halloween Special, and again in Batman: Blackest Night, and all the way up to the end of Red Robin. Tim also grieves for an extended time over Janet - he hallucinates a happy reunion with her when he's feverish in Contagion, and hallucinates her in the final issue of Robin, and the reveal-your-buried-emotions song in Robin 102 brings up his grief for her too (meanwhile, other characters dance or laugh or otherwise get giddy).  Tim’s grief over his parents’ deaths is intense and long-lasting.

I'm not going to clip comic panels because this is long enough, but if you're curious, here's a nice and fairly lengthy compilation of comic panels with Tim and Jack.

If you're interested in a Jack-centric story with a softer-but-still-recognizably-canon take on Jack, I really like the way Jack’s narration is written in the one-shots Heart Humble (set shortly before Jack dies) and Never a Hero (Ra's resurrects him during Brucequest, and Jack's archeology skills turn out to be unexpectedly useful).

[mumblesplash]

the fact that doctors can just Recommend Weight Loss with no instructions beyond ‘eat healthier/less’ is actually insane to me, i lost weight on purpose ONCE and it took me like 6 years to recover a semi-normal relationship with food and hunger

[the-indie-owl]

I will never legit get over on how Bolok's Pet Fish looks like Slappy Laszlo.

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

You know the drill. Some unstructured thoughts about All Hallow's Eve in the literal grim reaper Akai!AU

Halloween, the night of the living dead. Rei would call it Westerner nonsense, dismiss it in favour of Obon, if he couldn't feel the veil growing thinner.

He is sensitive to death on a good day, and that night is simply the worst. It's easy now, to hear their calls - they haunt and taunt him, those he lost, beckoning for him to join them. Akemi and Date. Matsuda. Hagiwara. Elena. Mother.

In a way, it is worse that he can't hear the one voice he's missing the most: Hiro's.

Each year, Rei holes himself up in his room and stares at the fading photographs; each year, it gets harder to recall the joy that once filled them during his vigil. Maybe he shouldn't have asked for Death to come back into his life; Akai is quiet, and the dead only seem louder by comparison. It's only a matter of time until they catch up with him.

And if he's bridging the gap, one bottle of scotch at a time, who could blame him? Just Death himself, and really, who is He to talk.

(Rei tries not to think about the young woman in his contact list who left him on read.)

A knock at the door interrupts his musings.

At this hour of night, it's probably Kazami; no one else would dare bother him. And on his day off, too - it must be important. Rei grabs his gun and coat, ready to head out.

He's greeted instead by an unexpected sight.

For all the time he's known him, Akai has always appeared in inconspicuous, everyday clothes. If one doesn't look too hard, he blends in, whatever the scenario. Tonight, though, he wears an all-black suit, a red rose pinned over his heart. A candle burns in a small glass lantern, radiating warmth.

The porcelain mask can't obscure his identity, not to Rei.

"Why are you here?" The eerie chill of death that usually accompanies Akai is missing. Rei checks himself - no burning, stinging, numbness, not any of the usual signs of being close to death. The hallway is empty, quiet, too - no shrieks of bloody murder, gunshots, crying.

Just the same cool quiet that follows Akai, in the moments after.

"Let's just say that tonight is a special occasion."

Rei crosses his arms. There's no need to invite Akai in; if he wanted to be, he would've stepped inside between two blinks. "Oh? Have you finally changed your mind and come to claim me?"

He knows better than to get his hopes up, but just for a moment, his breathing stills, the pull to Akai intensified. Then, his traitorous heart continues to beat the countdown to the inevitable.

He can't see behind the mask, but he can hear the same old wistfulness in Akai's voice. "Of course not. Please stop asking for what I cannot give you."

Rei has half a mind to slam the door in his face. This is a waste of time.

"I was simply close-by, and wanted to try out a custom I heard about." Akai straightens, coughs, and then, with a certain innocence, asks: "Trick or treat?"

He extends a gloved hand, expectantly.

Rei blinks. He feels just a little bad for having to squash Akai's enthusiasm immediately; it's not like he has many others he could ask that question. "I have no treats to give you, and you can't play tricks on me." At least that's what he hopes. Maybe all of this is a trick, already. He doesn't think he drank that much, but usually, Akai doesn't show up until he has.

"Ah, but you could treat me." Akai takes his silence as a cue to continue. "Would you care to accompany me, for a night?"

A shiver runs down Rei's spine. Follow Akai even deeper into blood-stained misery? One day, he'll surely be numb to the suffering of humanity; unfortunately, or perhaps thankfully, today is not that day.

And hopefully, it won't be any time soon.

"I would rather not. I think I've seen enough of your" - our - "work."

Akai's shoulders slump. The candle flickers, fought by unseen winds.

"My goal for the night is something different. I promise that no harm would come to you - body, mind and soul. Cross my heart and hope to die."

Against his better judgement, Rei is forced to smile - a useless promise, from Death himself. Admittedly, he is curious about how that would work out. But if Akai were to disappear from his life again, Rei would really rather die. Death is a poor excuse for a friend, but at least he's reliable.

"Is this a ploy to get rid of me?"

Akai does him the favour of flinching - whatever his true emotions are, if he can even have them at all, they remain looked behind the mask. "No. I simply thought your skills would be most useful. There's a lot of struggling lost souls around, tonight. Not all of them know that they are, but they still require guidance."

Now that piques Rei's interest. "I could be meeting the dead, with you?"

Akai merely shrugs. "The living. The dead. The ones lost in-between. There's very little difference, tonight."

Hm. If there's any chance at all he might get to see the ones he loves again, this might be it. Besides, if it's to help others, he can't very well decline, either - it feels like forever ago that he swore an oath to his country, but it glimmers within him, still. What difference is there between going out to fight crime with Kazami, or picking up the pieces with Akai?

"Fine. I'm coming with you."

Not in the way he really wants, but it's a start. He'll need to be patient.

It's insanity to trust the words of Death; but Akai has proven himself time and time again, through some of the worst times in Rei's life. For better as well as for worse, Rei knows he means him no harm. And if he did, well, that would only suit Rei just fine.

He takes Akai's hand. Even through the thick leather glove, the familiar cool spreads through his arm, into his core. It nestles in his chest, slows his heartbeat to a crawl, but Rei is not afraid. He's hated Death, screamed at him, fought him. But never once has he feared the reaper.

At the corners of the mask, he thinks he sees Akai smile.

.

They walk like ghosts among the bustling city streets. People get out of Akai's way - if he had to guess, Rei would suspect they can instinctively sense something inhuman moving about, and try to avert their eyes, hoping to escape without the beast noticing. He's never walked the city as unimpeded as he does now, trailing in Akai's wake. The feverish enthusiasm pulsing through the city at night fails to excite his heart.

It quickly becomes apparent why Akai asked for his help. There's a certain difficulty involved in trying to guide lost souls when they can't see him, or actively avoid him. Granted, there's some that are susceptible, but he's not nearly as solid to them as he is to Rei. It's just easier for him to do the talking.

Some of the souls are simple enough to deal with; give a young man some change so he can take a train home and see his family. Let a foreigner know where to find their hotel. Others, not so much.

The little girl might look up at Akai in wide-eyed innocence, too young to have learnt to fear Death, but her smile doesn't tell them where she's from. It's simple enough for Rei to look up the local missing persons cases and figure out her address. His badge provides them with cover for bringing her back to her family. Akai squeezes her little hand, once, and then she's off, suddenly unable to hold back her tears, as she huddles into her father's legs.

The parents thank Rei profusely. It feels improper, to take all the credit when he wouldn't even have known where to look if it wasn't for Akai. But there's simply no way he can tell them that Death was the one who found her and brought her home. It would just scare them needlessly.

The smile painted onto the porcelain mask will have to be enough, for Rei.

.

Akai makes sure to accommodate Rei; he takes doors and stairs where he normally wouldn't, walks with him instead of just appearing as he pleases.

They lock doors so people don't get lost in the first place, and guide those lost in the dark by the light of Akai's lantern, so they may find their way back home safely. Despite for how long they walk, the candle never seems to get smaller.

Through every interaction, Akai walks quietly by his side. He's clearly driven from target to target, but rather hands-off when it comes to actually handling them.

"I don't recall you being this lazy", Rei grumbles after making sure an old lady has reached her nephew's home safely. Nobody should be alone, tonight, if they can help it. Especially not the vulnerable demographics, the young and the elderly.

"I could help them", Death says quietly, sombrely. "But your solutions are preferable."

The cheeky retort dies on Rei's lips, and he hurries to stay in the light of Akai's lantern.

.

None of the souls they meet seem particularly dead, to Rei. It's possible Akai lied to him - though he has never done so, before - or that, for the sake of his promise, he's keeping them away from the ones that would be too dangerous. Or maybe Rei simply can't tell the dead apart from the living, anymore. It wouldn't surprise him.

.

There's mercifully few brushes with death, though they seem unavoidable in Akai's company.

Rei keeps telling himself that it's not Akai's fault people want to die - he knows this, both rationally and from first-hand experience.

But it still hits too close to home, when a middle-aged businessman tries to jump off a building. Before he really registers it, Rei sprints up the stairs; it's not Hiro, he's many years too late to help his friend, but he can't help himself. He's projecting; his frantic pleading isn't for this man he doesn't know, but for the ghost he can't hear, anymore.

Rei's still shaking, long after the man has climbed back over the fence and started to make his way home. The direct way down seems so much simpler than bothering with the stairs. His knees give with relief. He did it.

Oblivion calls, and Rei...Rei...

"Rei." Cool hands pull him back against something sturdier than the fence. "Please don't run off on your own. You're making it rather difficult to keep my word."

That's funny. If he didn't know any better, Rei would think Akai is struggling to breathe - but that's not possible, death can't be out of breath. It must simply be Rei's own ragged breathing that he's projecting onto Akai. The overflow of sensations is difficult to sort out; Akai's chill only creeps in slowly.

One by one his thoughts wink out, lights and sounds muted until there's nothing left but Akai's soothing presence. Of course, that's when he's let go. Akai helps him back over the fence, one hand held up galantly.

Even after he's back from the edge, Rei continues to hold on to his hand.

.

Akai makes sure he grabs something to eat - when did Rei last have dinner? Who knows.

Akai steers them clear of people, into more abandoned places. They switch to visiting graveyards - what leads Akai to the particular graves he visits, he doesn't say. Rei still makes it a point to memorize them; maybe they will grant him further insight into the reaper.

Rei wonders if Akai can even pray - is there anyone who would listen, to something like him? Then again, it's also not clear whether the dead would listen to Rei, so all they can do is try and hope for the best.

He wasn't planning to do so, but Rei ends up visiting his friends' graves. Somehow, they're always close-by to the ones Akai seems drawn to. He can't spend as much time with each of them as he would like to, as they deserve. It's painful to really reminisce about them, even as Akai is by his side and all pain is dulled. Maybe it's because death is the source of his pain, that Akai can't help him.

Still, with each grave visited, Rei's head gets clearer, the voices that taunt him quieter. The air smells of cigarettes and autumn leaves. He's not forgotten them, but maybe they needed a sign that he still remembers them. Maybe he needed it, instead.

Of course he does. He could never stop loving them.

The porcelain mask smiles at him.

.

Compared to the icy fog that cloaks their way on the way back, Akai's hand seems almost warm in his. It's probably only an illusion of warmth, though, reflected off the lantern.

His legs should hurt, he thinks, judging by the distance they have covered. Instead, they're merely pleasantly numb. Will feeling return to them tomorrow? Would it matter if it didn't, if he gets to spend as much time as he can, with Akai?

.

"I have a treat for you as well."

Somehow, Akai leads him back home, safe and sound. He sets down the lantern in the entryway, as if that's the end of his night, too.

Rei is glad he went with him; it may have only been small things, but they clearly made a difference to those they talked to. He'll do whatever he needs to, save the world over and over again. But there's a joy in the mundane, and the little things add up to.

Maybe he should start working in café Poirot again.

Rei has the distinct impression they're doing this whole thing wrong when Akai hands him the blood-red rose that was pinned to his suit. Then again, he's never bothered to pay much attention to these sorts of Western customs.

"I apologize. It was supposed to be white, to better suit you. But..."

He puts two fingers to his chest - they come away glistening wetly. Though the colour is indiscernible on the black leather gloves, it doesn't take a genius to guess what it is.

"Don't look at me like that, it barely hurts. And it was well worth the prize."

A wave of nausea sweeps over Rei. "That's not still-"

Akai shrugs. "It merely festers, tonight. Don't worry about it; by dawn, it will close again." For someone slowly bleeding out from a bullet wound, Akai is being way too nonchalant. Sure, he's already dead - but who knows what could still happen to him. Can he feel pain? It sure seems that way, sometimes. Akai seems way too mortal tonight. Maybe if the damage got too bad, he could die again?

Then there truly would be no one left at all that cares for Rei.

Rei drags Akai inside his flat roughly, shoves him onto a chair, and fetches his med kit. He takes off Akai's suit jacket and dress shirt, both sticky with blood. As he slides away the tie, Rei pretends he doesn't see the ligature marks around his neck; there's nothing he can do about those.

Blood seeps out of the bullet hole Rei left in anger; if it didn't hurt him just to look at it, he'd be impressed by his accuracy, even while drunk. A shot straight through the heart. He can't bear to see it any longer than necessary.

Akai lets him work as he pleases, merely watches him. Brilliant green from behind the mask.

It's somewhat strange to bandage the grim reaper, but Rei can't seem to think of a better idea to stop the bleeding. He hopes it will hold, and that Akai spoke the truth - there's very little time left until morning.

Rei needs to see that he'll be alright, won't let him go before that time.

Thankfully, Akai isn't leaving, either.

They sit side by side on Rei's bed, wordlessly watching the sun rise. Akai starts growing colder, his shallow breathing stills. The heartbeat that made him bleed stops, while his usual frostbite returns in full force. Rei is forced to let go of Akai's hand, lest he wants to lose his own.

Akai gets up. He takes off the bandage to reveal a scar over his heart. Not pretty, but not bleeding at least.

"It seems this is as much time as we are going to get." He takes off his mask. The same usual, melancholic smile greets Rei. Though there's a quirk of amusement to his lips as he adds: "And here I thought you didn't want to treat me."

Agitation still burns through Rei. "How could I not?" It was his fault, after all.

"As of tonight, we're even, Rei." A brush of cold against his temple, numbing all thought. "Rest well. I'll see you again."

The rose stains his bedside table red, as Rei succumbs to sleep.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober (Shadow) 2023

Spirit

Welp turns out my exam season throughly steam rolled through my general Linktober plans, so you get this VERY late thing for now folks who find this, at least until I decide whether to continue this until I finish it even though it's no longer Linktober or if I'll make whatever other stories come later their own thing after exam season is over (mostly because the original for this one is my preferred draft, and that I feel the one for the Link/Dark Link prompt would be kind of wasted if it just sat there collecting dust cause I worked hard on the tension and horror there lord darn it, along with a few others mainly involving Fae Hyrule, Twilight, Time, First, among other Links like Legend, Sky, Warriors, just all of the boys, I wanted to give them all proper spotlight and still want to do that in any way I can). Welp. *Downs coffee like a shot* Also really need to find out how to make a Masterlist on mobile, figure out how AO3 works and answer asks.

Anyway, not really any warnings this time besides Reader Not Being Okay (par the course really) and angst.

As always can be read as either romantic or platonic, Reader is gender neutral on purpose, technically is meant to be read as either Hero's Shade Time x Reader or First x Reader mainly, but you can interpret it as any Link really lol

Good reading!

This corner of Faron Woods was quiet this time of year.

The woods were solemn in this Hyrule, the sliver of moonlight barely enough of a guide through the mist, it was silent but for the soft padding of animals through the underbrush and the howl of a wolf in the distance (not Wolfie's, not musical enough). The stars were your only company as you were separated from the group, the air was cold agaisnt your skin as you attempted to find your way.

Being alone in the forests of Hyrule never spelled anything good for anyone, but as you felt the brush of a hand tenderly twined in yours, the ghost of leather and the faint clinking of steel, and a faint glow of pale gold and ivory cutting through the veil of the night, mindful of roots you may trip onto and never flickering too far out of sight you couldn't feel safer, even  if instead something like melancholy threatened to lock your throat with the chains of silence, you felt as warm as the soft twilight glow and as frigid as ice, frostburned with the bitter cold of your own warring emotions.

You can't help but chuckle a bit whille holding a old scabbard close to your heart, it's a wry sound, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

There is no answer, of course there isn't, but you don't mind, you know he'll listen, thorns wrap around your heart and crawl up your throat, the smell of lilies and steel coats and sticks in your throat like honey, or maybe blood, "... I didn't think you'd show up, you know? I always considered the possibility but..." You trail off, you feel something brush your side, you can only see him in the corner of your eyes or with a passing glance, there but not, existing but gone, so you keep your eyes on the road and in the flicker of light, so you carefully don't look to your side, you don't think you could contain the shaking in your heart otherwise, to stare at inevitability and prophecy, "... I know, I know you're fine. At least for now, I apologize for all the trouble I gave you."

'It's alright. It could never be a hardship aiding you.', the voice echoes in your ears, and you swallow thickly, breath hitching, the warmth of the sun in the fields of Hyrule, the wind caressing your hair, the song of the animals in Faron Woods, someone holding you carefully, fondly. The warmth of your hand in his. Not really here, but not gone either, more feeling than true echo.

You chuckle, and try to pretend it's not a bit breathless, something like a wounded keen, "... You're too kind. Too, too kind, thank you."

Spirits in Hyrule never spell anything good, in this wild land of light and shadow in a gestalt of divinity. There are some exceptions though, even if it hurts to witness then. So you follow him through the dark, certain that as you've guided his way once, he'll lead you now to where you need to go.

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

... The clearing he leads you to is open, but by no means truly quiet among the trees, there is no peace to be found for the armored skeleton here. You choke on sorrow, on unfinished business, on the cruelty of being brought to ruin and being denied peace, and you stumble towards the familiar figure, almost in a trance as your vision blurs, roots and thorny vines wrap over rusted armor and a thorn cape, the skeleton's void sockets piercing through your soul, illuminated by the solemn gaze of the wretched moon and it's uncaring maids of honor in the stars.

You fall to your knees near the decaying skeleton, biting back against the wounded sound that attempts to leave your throat with enough strenght to bleed, you lay the scabbard by his side with a bouquet of lilies and shiver at the gentle, phantom touch, so soft, so loving it almost leads you to ruin all over again.

'... It's foolish to grieve for someone who isn't gone yet.' the thought comes to you, yet you can't help it. You still hurt for him, you still hold onto the fury at the heavens themselves for denying them quietus. For denying them rest over and over and over again. To watch this cycle and be helpless to stop it all due to the will of uncaring gods.

Alive. Dead. Alive. Dead. Denied full rest over and over again, to watch the chance at rest to the kindest of souls found in this world you found yourself in.

You barely register the touch to your cheek, ephemeral as it is, as you can't help but shed tears, can't help but grieve. Because if you don't, who will?

You know by now that some wounds can never heal, some rifts can never be mended. Even with the guarantee of cyclic, eternal rebirth, some things never return to how they were. And reminding yourself of this inevitability to them will never not hurt, even if you know it's futile to blame anyone but the one god who started this, and maybe the goddess who stood complacent to it. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth that it'll one day come to this, that the frost of death and the sharpness of pain will leave a mark the sands of time can't scar over.

You reach a trembling hand towards the one in your cheek, try to find catharsis in the remains of decayed, dead yet ever eternal, ever growing love. And you breathe.

'We'll meet again. So do not mourn for me, please.'

You don't think you could deny him if you tried. Not when you know he's trying to soothe you, to thaw your sorrow. To allow your heart's healing to fallow.

"We will, I know. I'm sorry for making you worry." You chuckle, leaning into the cold, trying to brand the memory of the shadowed, but not gone love given to you so you can return it in kind. Just until you meet again, just until you can give all you can to his not yet decomposing self, grasping onto what remains of him, "I love you."

'I love you too. Until we meet again.'

The cold is gone, the echo of love leaves. And you breathe, and pretend you don't feel empty.

(When you see Link again, reuniting with the Chain on the next day's twilight. You hug him as tight as you can, and hope you he doesn't notice the tears in your eyes. And that you don't feel the lingering traces of a frigid embrace.

When no one is looking, you wave goodbye to the shade. And pray he dreams of warmer days until he finds quietus.)

[burningapples]

random hunches for s2 (or possibly beyond) from someone that has watched way too many cartoons:

1) Lilith is either going to be the big bad OR the Lilith we saw at the end of s1 is actually Eve/an imposter that’s gonna head down to hell and fuck shit up

2) Alastor might lean even more towards the antagonist role in an attempt to seem more powerful in hell. Charlie will have to work to pull him back towards his previous more neutral state.

3) Maybe more insight into heaven now that Sir Pentious has been redeemed. We’ll probably see pushes for change and get insight into who is REALLY in charge

4) More sinners will try to head to the hotel after word about Sir Pentious getting redeemed gets out. Charlie will probably have to deal with really shitty people and question her own ideas about redemption.

5) This might be more end of series-ish, but I think we’ll get a definitive answer as to what happens to souls that die in the afterlife. Maybe reincarnation, maybe they simply stop existing. We might get an actual answer tho

[wingsofescape]

Me: okay time to focus on itcol

My brain: but... have you considered... 03 Trisha character study... one shot series set in the timeskip between 03 and CoS... 03 edwin off-screen moments you headcanon... 03 AU where Ed doesn't try to bring back Al in ep 51

Me: not now

Brain: ...best I can do is writer's block then

[catsafarithewriter]

Day 3: Long Lost Relative

A/N: A shorter fic for today! This is very loosely based off the first case of Steel and Sapphire (a sci-fi show from the 80s) and is more like the start of a possible Bureau case, rather than a full narrative. Basically, this was just a fun excuse for Bureau banter.

(Also, if you haven't, please check out yesterday's prompt, which was created into an interactive cyoa narrative!)

Enjoy!

x

The strangers who arrived at Rob's door didn't step through it so much as fall.

And they were strange, in every sense of the word. For starters, the first person wasn't even human.

"Hello, we have come about finding a long lost relative," announced the six-foot tall cat man. He was well dressed, even if he hadn't been a six-foot tall cat man, attired in a grey morning suit and a top hat, and all Rob could think to say under the circumstances was, "What long lost relative?"

The next stranger to step through didn't even have the courtesy to be even mildly humanoid. He was just a six (maybe seven??) foot tall white cat, dressed like any other (not-seven-foot tall) cat, which was to say: not at all. The thick fur maintained a sense of decency, but that didn't change the fact that two individuals in various states of felinity were now occupying the hallway.

Three, and this would become a definite pattern.

"The hell if we know," said the white cat. "That's all the SOS said– oh geez it's just a kid."

Rob squared his shoulders. "I'm fifteen."

"Then oh bloody hell, it's just a kid."

The third person to step through was blessedly human, and she stumbled a little upon entry, as if the step from outside to in had been wider than expected. "Okay, the portal definitely needs a look at; some of us don't have feline grace–" She halted, and looked up at the white cat. "What the heck are you doing, Muta?"

"He's fifteen, Chicky. That means we're allowed to swear."

"Why are you this tall?" the woman persisted.

The white cat – Muta – shrugged. "Yer know how it is with different worlds. Anyway, how come yer never have an issue with Baron being tall?"

"Yes, but Baron's... Baron."

"And?"

"He has hands. And clothes," the woman added, after a dubious moment. "As far as the anthropomorphic scale goes, he's an 8 and you're a 3."

Muta snickered. "Hear that, Baron? Yer only an 8 in Haru's books."

"If there's a joke here, I don't get the reference."

The fourth and – as Rob would be relieved to discover – final member of the bizarre group forsook walking in entirely, and instead flew. A crow – thankfully normal-sized – swept into the hallway and landed on the well-dressed cat's (Baron's?) shoulder. It then undid any pretence at normality by asking, "Is everyone accounted for and present?"

"I believe so," said Baron.

"See?" the woman said, pointedly to Muta. "He's a sensible size."

"I shrank as I came through," the crow said. "Unlike some, I keep a tight rein on my stature."

"Some of us ain't Creations."

The door slammed shut behind them. Both Muta and the woman jumped.

Rob took this as a chance to get a word in edgeways. "What are you doing here?"

"We're here to help," Baron said. "We are the Cat Bureau and–"

"But only two of you are cats."

Baron halted. Evidently this little spat of logic wasn't meant to be remarked upon in his opening spiel. "Yes, but in its early days, it was entirely manned by cats, so–"

"Is 'manned' the right word?" Rob asked. "If you're not human? And why would you keep the name if only half of you are cats?"

The woman raised a hand. "If it helps, I was briefly a cat."

"Briefly?"

"I got better."

"And the crow?"

"I'm here as the intellectual support."

"Moving the subject back to the matter at hand," Baron said, "we are here to help. I'm Baron, this is Muta, Haru, and Toto. Now, we received a message about a long lost relative?"

Again, "What long lost relative?"

"We don't know, kid; we just got a letter saying we were needed here."

"Not a kid."

"Is there an adult we can talk to?" Haru asked. She frowned. "Come to think of it, where are your parents? It can't just be you."

Rob scowled. "They vanished."

"What?"

"But I've called the police!" he warned. "And they'll be here any minute, so you should go before they start asking questions!"

Haru did indeed step away, but instead of making a beeline for the door, she detoured to the side table where the phone sat. The crow – Toto – flew onto her shoulder.

"Do you know how to use it?"

"Please, I'm not that young," Haru scoffed. "My grandmother had one of these." She started to spin the dial. "Okay, and I may have seen a few movies with these in. It can't be that complicated."

"When you said your parents vanished," Baron said, reclaiming Rob's attention, "what did you mean?"

Rob glanced at Haru and Toto, and then back to Baron. He didn't drop the scowl. "Just that. They were in the kitchen, and then they weren't."

"You saw them disappear?"

"No – I was in the lounge."

"So yer don't know if they actually vanished," Muta said. "Great, we've been dragged all this way because some kid's parents took an unexpected walk."

"The Sanctuary wouldn't have brought us out here if we weren't needed," Baron said.

"Right. Just like how it told us there was an issue with long lost relatives. It can't have possibly made a mistake there."

"Not a kid," Rob snapped. "And I know they didn't just leave, 'cause I could hear them talking, and then suddenly they stopped!"

"What were they talking about?" Baron asked.

"I don't know, I wasn't listening. Just normal stuff. But I heard when they stopped. It was sudden, mid-word like a radio being turned off."

"Baron, come take a look at this," Haru called.

Baron gave Rob one last thoughtful look, and then joined his companions. Haru passed the reciever to him.

"It sounds like it's dead," she said.

He gave it a listen. He glanced back to Rob, and then to Haru. "It might have gone down between his call and now," he said. His voice was soft and low, in that way Rob knew to be adults trying to hide their growing panic.

"If it went down, it surely would have happened at the same time his parents vanished?" Haru murmured.

"Perhaps our arrival–" Toto offered.

"Our portals have never disconnected phones before."

"All worlds are different," Toto said.

"We can't assume this is the outlier." Haru gave Baron a meaningful look. "You know the Sanctuary does weird things with SOS's. If his call wasn't getting through to the police, is it possible the Sanctuary picked it up instead?"

"And brought it to us as a letter?"

"It's possible," Toto said. "If the SOS was coming from a distant world, any audio messages might have been too fragmented to understand. A letter, however, is much simpler. As for the long lost relative..."

"A translation glitch?" Haru asked. "After all, parents are relatives. And his are lost, possibly a long way away..."

Rob looked to Muta, the one Bureau member still on his side of the room. Muta shrugged. "I know it looks bad right now, kid, but we're actually pretty good at our job."

"Not a kid," Rob said on impulse. But, strangely enough, he did feel like maybe, perhaps, this little group of oddities might be able to help.

[egsoon]

Central do Brasil

[notonlymice]

the best girls (my opinion) (movies only)

[fallloverfic]

So... on the subject of relative age in Delicious in Dungeon and Mithrun and fandom "jokes" I've seen folks complaining about. General manga and anime spoilers for character ages and names in the manga and anime below the read more:

On the one hand, I do get that people are (or at least were, I see it less these days) mad at the "Mithrun grandpa/old man" jokes/comments because "it's just cause he's disabled" and "relatively speaking, he's the same age as Chilchuck, and no one treats Chilchuck like he's an old man/something about how Chilchuck dislikes being treated differently, mentally, for his presumed age/state of mind".

Okay, yes. Relatively speaking, sure. There's a conversation to be had about the intersection of ableism and ageism and how we often baby (in a patronizing way) disabled people and the elderly, and how we prioritize youth and treat middle-aged people like their lives are over. (And maybe something about how he has silver hair, I don't know). On a more positive note, I love that, relatively speaking, possibly by Elvish standards, Mithrun is at/near middle-age (elvish age of maturity is 80 years, their average lifespan is 400 years), because that's a fascinating bit of world-building.

...On the other hand (please rest your pitchforks momentarily), Mithrun is literally 185 years old, he is the fifth oldest cast member for characters whose age we know as of the English release of the Delicious in Dungeon World Guide: The Adventurer's Bible (after the Elf Queen, who's 372, the elder Flokes, who are in their 200s, and Milsiril, who's four years older than Mithrun), and he is the oldest member of his group of the Canaries (he's literally 103 years older than his subordinate, Pattadol, and still 39 years older than Cithis, the next oldest Canary after Mithrun). And speaking of Chilchuck, who is, yes, a married father of multiple adult children... and also 29. Mithrun has lived over six times as long as Chilchuck has. (All ages come from Delicious in Dungeon World Guide: The Adventurer's Bible; Sissel + the other Golden Country residents don't have listed ages there, though they're at least 1000 years old, and the other elves don't show up). Mithrun was in recovery after the central watchtower dungeon for longer than at least five characters have been alive.

Age chart:

Elf Queen: 372

Tansu Floke: 210

Yarn Floke: 204

Milsiril: 189

Mithrun: 185

Cithis: 149

Otta: 137

Fleki: 130

Lycion: 126

Senshi: 112

Noor: 98

Totan: 95

Pattadol: 82

Gillin: 79

Brigan: 78

Holm: 76

Fionil: 62

Namari: 61

Daya, Invar: 58

Marcille: 50

Maizuru: 41

Chilchuk: 29

Laios, Toshiro, Hien: 26

Rin: 24

Falin, Benichidori: 23

Kabru, Mikbell: 22

Zon: 21

Kaka, Kiki: 20

Kuro, Doni: 18

Izutsumi, Inutade: 17

Leed: 14

Mithrun is older than Senshi, older than Marcille, older than Kabru's entire party, including Holm and Daya, and older than the oldest human we have an established age for, Maizuru (again, the first Adventurer's Bible doesn't list the Golden Country resident ages, and Mithrun is definitely younger than them, but also they're generally minor characters except for Yaad and Delgal). He's older than Senshi's former dwarf comrades were when they died. He's also apparently older than Flamela, the vice commander of the Canaries (she's 170, at least according to the fanwiki, which is possibly going off the Complete Adventurer's Bible).

He is of course younger than Obrin, his older brother, whose age we don't know, but we do know that Mithrun is the younger brother. He is also obviously much younger than the demon.

I also find it interesting that people are jumping to the big assumption that he's middle-aged (relatively) due to... I guess just chopping the average lifespan of elves in half and assuming that's what they think middle-aged is? We know the average lifespan of elves and when they come to maturity. We do not know what elves think of Mithrun's age or what their concept of being middle-aged is, if they have one. He could be considered young by elf standards. He could be considered old. We have no idea.

Thinking about the conversation in Volume 8, Chapter 51: Dumplings 2, it's just about total/average lifespan and how near the characters are to dying by average race age, not middle age.

Chilchuck on p.37: "What's the difference between our actual ages and how old we look?"

Laios: "Well, dwarfs do live two and a half times as long as tall-men."

Chilchuck: "If our actual ages affect our looks, then... ...I'm curious about remaining life. Will we age at the same rate we did before? Or will it match our bodies now?"

They never get an answer for this. We do get rough estimates for what one race's age means to another by comparing Laios' actual age (26) to what Senshi thinks dwarf!Laios is, age-wise (his 60s), and both ages put him near but not at assumed middle-age for the respective race (for tall-men it would be 30, for dwarfs, 100), but otherwise they don't come to many conclusions about anything. They just guess and try to change back before something worse happens. Marcille doesn't even say anything in this conversation about elf culture. She just panics because half-foots live shorter lives.

I would not personally call Mithrun a grandpa and I don't particularly connect with jokes about it. By Elvish standards, and relatively speaking, he is perhaps not, arguably, old. ...But he's no spring chicken, either, despite how strong and fast he is. By the standards of most characters he is interacting with in the story, he is the oldest person in the room, by a substantial margin (heck, the age gap between Mithrun and Cithis is more years than Chilchuck has lived). That doesn't make him a grandpa, either. But I do find people getting mad about folks pointing out this literally 185-year-old being is you know... 185 years old... odd...? Especially when he's around all these by and large substantially younger people (younger people who are adults by and large!!!) for most of the story. Again, there's definitely a conversation to be had about the intersection of ageism and ableism, and how we treat people who are middle-aged as if they're elderly even when they're able-bodied, and about the way other characters in-universe treat him (though the one time I think his age is pointed out, it's about the stuff he knows, not to mock him for it; mostly people treat him badly due to his disabilities (e.g., Fleki with his aiming in chapter 55, Cithis in the Adventurer's Bible), not because of his age)... but it does feel very much like people are ignoring that he is honestly one of the oldest characters in the story, and not by dint of being the oldest youth, but because he's a character who has lived to be nearly 200 years old.

[senatortedcruz]

Thinking how getting myself to any night of the last Eras tour leg would be minimum ten grand without a FV ticket

[superbellsubways]

do u guys ever get a couple of ur mutuals confused/mixed up with eachother like they just give off the same vibe to you or have similar looking users