#sentinel please I miss my kids

[blouisparadise]

Today we have the fourth part of our hurt/comfort rec list for you! There are tons of amazing fics on this list that we hope you'll show some love to. If you missed the previous parts, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Wanna Feel the Edges Start to Burn | Explicit | 6,111 words

Harry gives him a gentle smile. “Feeling a little bit better?” Louis nods tentatively. “I think so yeah. Thank you so much for being so kind, but you really didn’t need to do this.” He lifts his unfortunately still shaky hand and runs it haphazardly through his hair. “It was just a spilled tea, I totally overreacted. I’m a bit embarrassed to be honest.” Harry scoffs. “Are you kidding me? Don’t be. I saw the whole thing, that guy was way out of line. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Louis gives him what he’s sure is a watery smile. “Erm thank you. I wouldn’t normally admit this to a stranger, but you’ve already seen me cry today so what the hell?” He forces himself to let out a weak laugh. “The thing is, my period is due any day now and sometimes the birth control pills make my emotions go a little haywire. I think that’s what happened.”

2) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8,894 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind. Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic. “I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.” Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

3) Wanna Do Nothing With You | Explicit | 9,606 words

The accident happens in the stupidest way possible. One minute Louis is demonstrating a skateboard trick he’d just learned for Lottie, the next he’s waking up in a hospital. He’s told that he wasn’t unconscious the entire ride, but he has absolutely no recollection of it. One second he’s fucking around in his own garden and the next he’s being assaulted with the strong sterile scent of a hospital. So. There’s that.

4) Let Me Be Your Good Night | Explicit | 10,520 words

Louis goes on a shit Valentines date and Harry's the cute waiter who takes him home

5) For The Love Of Biscuits | Mature | 16,574 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

The thing about hybrids is that their animal instincts make them jumpy. And quite often lends them to being owned. Harry Styles wasn't looking to purchase a half-breed. But sometimes things just happen. And owning a fox/human hybrid was something that happened.

6) Works Like A Charm | Explicit | 18,088 words

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone. One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts. Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts. Three: They do not get along. So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

7) Soup Of The Day | Explicit | 19,958 words

It had been the single minded goal for them since college and seemed simple enough. 1. Study hard. 2. Open their dream restaurant. 3. Take the culinary world by storm. What could possibly go wrong?

8) Under The Rain Or Under The Snow | Explicit | 20,667 words

Christmas AU where they broke up a month ago but Harry shows up at Louis’ childhood home for the holidays. Louis didn’t tell his mum about their breakup so staying with them is not ideal. Harry stays.

9) Heart Eyes | Explicit | 21,467 words

Harry is a dedicated sentinel with a strong aversion to demons, and Louis is the lovesick incubus who will go to any lengths to win Harry's heart.

10) It Was All By Design (‘Cause I’m A Mastermind) | Explicit | 21,986 words

“You can’t be serious. You think I would be so awful to work for - you would rather quit?” “Don’t be all high and mighty about it,” Harry scoffs. “Surely you would do the same.” “I’m not being high and mighty. It’s called being professional.” “Really?” Harry pushes. “You’d work diligently under me with no complaints? You’d do whatever I asked of you?” “That would be my job, so yeah.” Harry shakes his head. “I’d work you so fucking hard,” he says slowly, “that you’d have to quit.”

11) Thrown To The Wolves | Explicit | 21,681 words

Louis is a human living in the Styles' wolf pack who can't stop getting into trouble, and Harry is the soon-to-be alpha who thinks keeping Louis at arm's length is the safest option.

12) Letters To June | Mature | 41,150 words

It's 1915, Europe is in the middle of the Great War. Omega Louis decides to join the Letter Home Project to become someone’s penfriend. Through this he meets a lovely soldier who hasn't got anyone else to send a letter to. Along with his letter, comes a picture of the most handsome alpha Louis has ever seen.

13) Catch Me If I Fall | Explicit | 47,099 words

Lovers when on the stage but bitter rivals as soon as they step off, Harry and Louis have butted heads from the moment they first met. Locked in a stalemate that they hope to ride out until graduation, things take a turn when Harry learns that Louis is hiding a secret.

14) As We Are | Explicit | 48,268 words

Louis doesn't think much when he's asked to meet up with the alpha of the pack two hours from his own - he figures it's business as usual. But Harry Styles is anything but usual.

15) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words

Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who’s never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves. Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?

16) Of Lost Things | Explicit | 57,890 words

Louis comes with a familiarity Harry has never felt with anyone else before. After their fateful meeting, their chemistry became undeniable, and soon after, Harry had felt like he hit the jackpot when it came to finding the person he would spend the rest of his life with. But all relationships come with their own unique problems, and Harry soon realizes that their relationship is no different. When their problems go from unordinary to nearly bizarre in nature, he takes it upon himself to find an answer to their troubles. What he stumbles upon are terrifying coincidences between his and Louis’ story, and the ill-fated mythological couple, Orpheus and Eury. But it’s all they are; just coincidences, ones that feel as frighteningly familiar as Louis. Except… what if none of this is a coincidence? What if everything Harry has always seen as fiction is true, and myth—or rather, history, is about to repeat itself?

17) Sink Into Your Sunlight | Explicit | 79,562 words

In the grand scheme of things Louis did believe in love, what he didn’t believe was that he would ever find it in his life time for himself. Low and behold he would find it with someone he didn’t anticipate, now it was just a matter of having it work out the way he dreamed of.

18) Invisible String | Explicit | 84,726 words

Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car. This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on. For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.

19) Wind Beneath My Wings | Explicit | 93,131 words

As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.

20) You Were My Because | Explicit | 109,089 words

Note: Please be sure to read the tags and any warnings.

Louis has battled the demons of his past for years now and has little hope of finding happiness for himself. Especially now that a school reunion is taking place and the memories of his school days are suddenly coming back with full force. But after rain always comes sunshine, in Louis’ case in the form of his old schoolmate Harry. A story about healing, friendship, finding trust and love.

21) Drops of Jupiter | Mature | 121,826 words

In a small, sleepy town ruled by prejudice, Louis Tomlinson runs his grandmothers shop for the occult. He finds comfort in his tarot cards, his friends, and a dog that he doesn't have room for. He thought the worst he'd have to deal with would be bigotry, until a new sheriff arrives with a headstrong little girl that's impossible not to fall in love with. But what happens when a string of break-ins leads to a brutal attack, and the towns' darling is murdered right under their Sunday hats? A murder that just so happens to bear the same modus operandi as similar homicides in neighbouring states. Has the killer been circling Virginia, or is he a local of Lavender Hills? And what will Louis do when the charming Sheriff Styles starts to suspect him of such a heinous crime?

22) Sewn Into You | Explicit | 167,485 words | Sequel

Harry Styles thinks soulmates are a fairytale, or in other words-a lie. He has no interest in entertaining anything that has anything to do with the very name that had been etched along his collarbone since his eighteenth birthday. Louis Tomlinson won't be answering to another alpha for the rest of his life if he can help it. Fuck happy endings, his soul mate can choke on it. Problem is, Harry needs a personal assistant to save his family's business, Louis needs the cash to officially move off of his childhood best-friend's couch. They can manage. Surely, nothing will go wrong.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[from-memphis-with-love]

Songbird - Chapter 1 - The International

Summary: The year is 1969. The place, The International Hotel. Aspiring young singer Valerie Pedretti has a chance encounter with Elvis Presley in an elevator that will changer life forever, for both good and bad. Author's Notes: You guys, I am incorrigible. I know. Constantly going back to old fics to reread and retool them. I think I finally got it right this time. If you will indulge, please read from chapter 1 again. I think you'll like it.

To me, 1967-1971 EP is kind of peak Elvis, and so I wanted to write a fic with him smack dab in that time period. In the 1969-1970 period, especially, Elvis was probably the most handsome and alluring man in the galaxy.

Lots of anachronisms and historical inaccuracies in this one, but just roll with it because it's fun! For example: Elvis in real life did not eat seafood but in a later chapter, we find out not only does he eat it but he has an allergy to it. It's for the narrative, I promise. :-)

I based Valerie, in a sense, off of a mixture of Kathy Westmoreland - who I find immensely dry and boring IRL but who had a cool meeting story with Elvis, as well as Joyce Bova and Linda Thompson. Kathy met the real Elvis for the first time in an elevator, and that really inspired this work. Priscilla exists in this universe but she and Elvis get a divorce far earlier than in real life. Theirs, in some ways like real life, is a marriage of convenience and an "arrangement." Lisa Marie does not exist in this universe.

Vegas hit me like a slap in the face with a rhinestone glove. The kind of place that promises you the moon and delivers green cheese, but damn if you don't want to believe in it anyway. My cab rolled down the strip toward the International Hotel, and I pressed my forehead against the window like a kid at a candy store, watching the greatest show on earth scroll by in technicolor.

It was July 1969, just days after Neil Armstrong had bounced around on the moon, and the whole world still felt drunk on the idea that anything was possible. We cruised down the Strip, past Caesar's Palace with its Roman statues standing sentinel in the desert heat, past the Flamingo where Bugsy Siegel’s ghost still lingered, straight toward the International Hotel where my own small shot at glory waited.

I didn't know it yet, but I was about to have what my mother would call A Significant Moment. The kind that divides your life into Before and After, like a vinyl record with its A and B sides. But right then, all I knew was that I was tired, my clothes were a disaster, and I was woefully unprepared for tomorrow's audition.

The audition. Good lord, let's not even go there yet.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, watching sequined showgirls and sailors on shore leave blur past in a kaleidoscope of color. The radio was playing "In the Year 2525," and somewhere in the city, Frank Sinatra was preparing for another show. The same Frank Sinatra I'd be auditioning for tomorrow, assuming I didn't die of nerves first.

The cabbie jerked to the curb in front of the International. "That'll be four-fifty, miss." I handed him a wrinkled five and stepped out into air so hot it felt like opening an oven door. The scene that greeted me stopped me dead in my tracks.

The place was absolute bedlam. Not your usual Vegas chaos either – this was something else entirely. The International Hotel lobby looked like Elvis Presley had exploded all over it. You know those old Bible pictures of saints with the beams of light shooting out of them? Picture that, but with pompadours and rhinestones. His face was everywhere - posters, cardboard cutouts, even pins that said "I ❤️ ELVIS" in letters that could probably be seen from space.

Crowds of women with hair teased higher than their hopes pressed against velvet ropes, many of them clutching signs that said things like "Elvis We Love You" and "Marry Me EP!" Some were crying. Actually crying, their mascara running in black rivers down their cheeks. Security guards with arms like Christmas hams tried to maintain order, while vendors worked the crowd selling everything from buttons to teddy bears to – I kid you not – little vials of water supposedly blessed by the man himself. 

That's when it hit me. This wasn't just any weekend at the International. This was the kickoff of Elvis Presley's big comeback residency. Ground zero for Elvis-mania.

"Well, shit," I muttered, suddenly feeling like the universe's favorite cosmic joke. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, I had to walk into the one where the King was holding court.

The lobby was even worse. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and Aqua Net, and somewhere a speaker was playing "Love Me Tender" like it was heavenly muzak. I'd never quite understood the hysteria around Elvis. Sure, he was handsome in his own way, but what was it about him that made grown women act like teenagers?

I caught my reflection in one of the many mirrors and winced. My dark curls had gone feral in the desert heat, my mascara was smudged, and the coffee stain on my blouse looked even worse under the chandelier lights. I looked exactly like what I was – a girl who'd spent six hours trapped on a delayed flight from Chicago, stress-eating Oreos and reading the same magazine until the pages wore thin.

The blonde behind the check-in desk was reading Variety when I approached. Her name tag said BRENDA but her expression said DON'T BOTHER ME.

"Checking in?" she asked without looking up. "Name?"

"Reservation should be under Deena Lovelace."

That got her attention. Her penciled eyebrows shot up as she gave me a head-to-toe assessment that left frost on her glasses. "You're Deena? The one auditioning for Sinatra tomorrow? We spoke on the phone, remember?"

I gritted my teeth into what I hoped passed for a smile. "No, actually. I'm Valerie. Deena's friend. She's sick, so I'm filling in."

Brenda's look could have frozen hell over, but she handed me a key. "Room 2806. If you need anything, ask for Hector."

A bellhop materialized – Hector himself, I assumed – reaching for my bags. I waved him off with what turned out to be misplaced confidence. "I can manage."

The thing about the International Hotel was that it had been designed by someone who believed strongly in giving guests the full maze experience. Every corridor looked identical, with the same gold-flecked mirrors and deep crimson carpet. The crowds thinned out as I wandered deeper into the building's heart, the sounds of Elvis-mania fading to a distant hum.

My feet were screaming bloody murder in my go-go boots. My arms ached from dragging my overpacked suitcases. And my chances of actually finding room 2806 seemed about as likely as Elvis himself appearing to give me directions.

I ended up in a quiet hallway that felt different from the others. The carpet was thicker here, the lighting softer, the wood paneling probably worth more than my car. Even the air felt expensive. I should have realized I'd wandered into restricted territory, but by then my dogs were barking so loud I couldn't think straight.

The elevator, when I found it, was elegant in an understated way – all dark wood and soft lighting. No bright brass or mirrors like the tourist elevators. I was too tired to question my good fortune. I kicked off my boots, letting my screaming feet sink into that plush carpet, and started humming without thinking. It was an old lullaby my mother used to sing, the kind that lives in your bones and comes out when your guard is down.

The elevator arrived with a soft ding. I dragged my bags inside and slumped against the wall, already dreaming of a hot bath and a soft bed. The doors started to close and I was finally alone. Or I thought I was. Then a hand shot out—a big hand with rings that could double as brass knuckles—and stopped the doors.

Remember what I said about Significant Moments? This was mine, walking into that elevator in a black suit that probably cost more than my yearly salary, with a pink silk scarf at his throat and eyes bluer than a Minnesota winter behind tinted glasses. They looked at me and saw everything.

Elvis Presley. The King himself.

Time seemed to slow down, the way it does in dreams or car crashes. The man who stepped into that elevator made the air change – made everything change. You know how people talk about electricity crackling between two people? I'd always thought that was just romance novel nonsense. I was wrong.

He wasn't alone—a redheaded man built like a brick wall stood beside him, hand resting on what I was pretty sure was a gun. But it was Elvis who filled that elevator like smoke from a Tennessee cigarette, making everything else fade into background noise.

You know how sometimes you think you understand something, but then you realize you didn't understand it at all? That's how it was with Elvis's fame. I'd never been one of those screaming fans, never understood what all the fuss was about. But standing there in that elevator, watching him smile at me like he had all the secrets to the universe tucked behind those perfect teeth, I got it. Boy, did I get it.

"You've had a long day, honey.” His voice was pure Memphis nightclub, smooth as whiskey and twice as intoxicating. It seemed to bypass my ears entirely and go straight to parts of my anatomy that had no business responding to a stranger's voice that way.

I said yes and no and then yes again. My heart was doing double time, and I could feel my pulse in my fingertips. Every nerve ending seemed suddenly, acutely aware of his presence.

He smiled then, and it was like watching the sun come up. My knees actually wobbled. I finally understood why they put velvet ropes between Elvis and his fans. That man was a lethal weapon.

"The beds here are good," he said. Even the way he leaned against the elevator wall was poetry, all controlled power and casual grace.

I looked at the ceiling because I could not look at him. My stomach moved in ways it should not move. The elevator felt smaller somehow, the air between us alive with possibility.

"Pardon my manners," he said, and even that slight motion sent another wave of his cologne my way. "I'm Elvis, and this here's my pal Red. Who might you be?"

"Valerie," I managed, my voice barely more than a whisper. I was achingly conscious of how close he was, how the silk of his suit caught the light when he moved.

"Val-e-rie." He drew out each syllable like he was tasting them, turning my plain-Jane name into something rich and strange. The way his mouth shaped the sounds made my stomach flip. "A pretty name for a pretty little songbird."

The pet name caught me off guard until I remembered – the humming. He'd heard me humming while I waited for the elevator. Heat crept up my neck. His eyes hadn't left my face, and I could feel that gaze like a physical touch.

"I got ears like a well-tuned radar dish," he said, as if reading my mind. Each word seemed to hover in the air between us. "In town for a show?"

"An audition," I admitted, trying to ignore how my skin tingled every time he shifted position. "For Sinatra's show. I'm... I'm filling in for a friend."

Something flickered in his expression. "That right?" His gaze swept over me again, slower this time, more deliberate. It felt like being touched by velvet. "And what will you be singing for Ol' Blue Eyes?"

I gave him my prepared answer about standards and medleys, trying not to let on that I barely knew the material. His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile but made my stomach drop like I'd missed a step going downstairs.

"A classic set list. You'll do great, honey."

The elevator slowed to a stop. Elvis moved past me toward the door, so close that the fabric of his suit jacket brushed my arm. That brief contact sent electricity skating across my skin. His cologne – something spicy and smoky – wrapped around me like an embrace. He paused in the doorway to look back at me and his eyes were dark and full of something I did not understand but wanted to.

"Knock ‘em dead, songbird."

Then he was gone, leaving nothing but that spicy scent and the memory of blue eyes that seemed to see right through me. I sagged against the elevator wall, my knees finally giving up the fight against gravity.

Now I understood. God help me, did I understand. All those screaming girls, all those tears and Elvis-induced hysteria – it made perfect sense. The real thing, in person, was like staring into the sun. No wonder women fainted.

I made it to my room on autopilot, barely registering the route. Inside, I face-planted onto the bed, my mind spinning like a 45 on a turntable. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him – the way he'd looked at me, the curve of his smile, the way he'd said my name like he was savoring it. The memory of his cologne lingered in my nose, and my arm still tingled where his jacket had brushed it.

I'd come to Vegas to audition for Sinatra. I'd come to maybe, finally, make something of myself. I hadn't come to get turned inside out by Elvis Presley in an elevator.

That night, I lay on the bed and thought about his eyes and his voice and the way he moved. I did not want to think about these things but they came anyway.

I knew then that Vegas would be different than I had planned. The elevator had changed everything. But that is how it is with elevators and beautiful men who wear rings and pink silk. They change things. And you can only ride up or down and see where they take you. Taglist: @whositmcwhatsit  @ellie-24  @arrolyn1114 @missmaywemeetagain  @be-my-ally  @vintageshanny  @prompted-wordsmith @precious-little-scoundrel @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @austinbutlersgirl67@lala1267 @thatbanditqueen @dontcrydaddy @lovingdilfs @elvispresleygf @plasticfantasticl0ver @ab4eva @presleysweetheart @chasingwildflowers @elvispresleywife @uh-all-shook-up @xxquinnxx @edgeofrealitys-blog@velvetprvsley @woundmetender @avengen @richardslady121 @presleyhearted @kendralavon7 @18lkpeters@lookingforrainbows @elvisalltheway101 @sissylittlefeather @eliseinmemphis@tacozebra051 @thetaoofzoe @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @crash-and-cure @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @devilsflowerr@dirtyelvisfant4sy @elvislittleone @foreverdolly @getyourpresleyfix@gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @p0lksaladannie @doll-elvis @tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997 @myradiaz@livelaughelvis @deke-rivers-1957 @jhoneybees @atleastpleasetelephone @eapep @elvispresleywife @that-hotdog @landlockedmermaid77 @sissylittlefeather @kawaiiwitchy

[akai-anna]

Now for my dear DCMK exchange gift giver. I come with some fic recs and a couple of headcanons for our favourite certified lil guy.

A selection of personal fic recs of the platonic/familial/friendship kind (sprinkled with a bit of romance too). Please note that all these fics come back to one thing: Shinichi/Conan is involved, as he tends to be my main focus (also I'm a huge Found Family trope lover, as you might be able to tell from some of these recs). I also decided to forgo my soulmate AU recs, since it seems you likely know those! (Though, if you'd ever like more fic recs... just let me know. And I hope you'll find one or two on this list that you haven't yet read and you'll like!)

warm soup on a frigid night: Detective Boys centric, my heart melted gosh.

Once and For All: another Detective Boys centric fic, I'M SCREAMING thEY ARE SO PRECIOUS.

A Friend In Need: Kaitou KID centric, really love how organic this fic is, both from KID's and Shinichi's POV.

You Have an Hour: Sonoko's POV and an extremely funny and relatable fic.

You're okay, you're safe: oh, my beloved Sakura Trio, also from Sonoko's POV which I adore, and Sonoko's feelings in this... I feel her.

Switched: KID centric, FREAKING BODY SWAP, and so well written too, very fun read.

Guide you home: I love the Guide/Sentinel universe so much, this has romantic KaiAo, Heizuha, ShinRan, and lots of other platonic combinations, this is also a case fic and emotional.

Identity: One of my favourite scenarios, OCCHAN AND RAN BEING AWARE FROM THE BEGINNING, MY HEART-

Code Red: KOGOROU CENTRIC, let him shine!

The Cloning Secret: do you want to read something absolutely heart-wrenching, disturbing, yet absolutely brilliant? Go no further. We warned: this is a work in progress.

Misconceptions, Illusions, and Lies (and Other Forms of Fair Play): I absolutely adore this fic, the idea of Ran and KID working together, also bonus points for different POVs, also a work in progress.

Shenanigans in Beika: one of my ultimate favourite fic series, off all time, the interactions in this are just way too charming and precious and dear. Also a work in progress.

until the flowers bloom again: same author (yes, one of my favourite authors, sue me) as Shenanigans in Beika, involves the Detective Boys and ShinRan, and my heart just... gosh, this fic is so precious.

Hidden Epidemic: I love the first part the most, but this as a whole has a lot of headcanons incorporated into it that I love to bits. Lots of POV changes, and so many characters (Detective Boys, Heiji, Kazuha, KID, Ran and so on)

pet: super short, but also SUPER CUTE, absolutely in love with the idea of Ai having a cat. (one of my favourite authors for the fandom)

(the space between) where you smile and hide: one of the very few and precious Kazuha POV fics, especially her thinking about Shinichi. (also one of my favourite authors, and if you like one Hattori Heiji, I highly rec holly's other fics too)

Observations: my ultimate favourite fic involving Takagi Wataru, part of it is from his POV too, and it has so many great things about it. (VERMOUTH!!! Also Heiji and Satou working together! And most importantly: Takagi finally getting an answer to his Question.)

All Night Gang: I ADORE THIS FIC SO SO SO MUCH, THE FACT THAT KAZUHA AND RAN GET TO FINALLY KNOW. Also the adorable chatting in the first part. All the different POVs later on. And all the FEELINGS AND HEADCANONS AND THE THING THIS FIXES ABOUT CANON FOR ME. I'M so grateful for the existence of this fic.

Nothing To Lose: Detective Boys, PRECIOUS CHILDREN, they just miss their friend, this fic made me so emotional, dammit. SHINICHI YOU FCKIN IDIOT-

Family of the heart: God. This fic. THIS FIC. I LOVE PARENTAL MOURI KOGOROU WITH A PASSION.

never were and not anymore: this series? Damn. The shapeshifter concept in it is MARVELOUS AND MASTERFUL. The way it got merged into the universe, and how it changed events. Also THE RELATIONSHIPS IN THIS KILL ME in the best way.

Scion: I absolutely adore this author, and this is one of my ultimate favourite fics involving Shinichi and KID. The supernatural element is so exquisitely fitting into the universe, and how Shinichi's feelings are so complex, and the teamwork... just. Everything about this fic pulls at my heartstrings.

As for personal headcanons for Shinichi/Conan, here is a few:

Shinichi/Conan is neurodivergent as fck. I personally like to think he is on the autism spectrum, but I'm very flexible on the exact nature. One thing for sure: he is not neurotypical. At. All.

HE'S A CERTIFIED PENCIL BITER YOUR HONOUR!!! (IT'S NOT EVEN A HEADCANON AT THIS POINT- *GETS HIT*)

No one can tell me, No One, that after all these traumatic experiences this child doesn't experience panic attacks or PTSD.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE STOPPED PLAYING SOCCER, HE LOVES SOCCER!! (The kids are totally the reason he got more involved in soccer again, YOU HEAR ME-)

Shinichi keeping gloves on his person for Crime Scene Examination Purposes, At All Times.

Shinichi having his own shorthand, you cannot tell me he doesn't TAKE NOTES, he so totally WOULD. (HE HAS A NOTEBOOK ON HIM!!! AND SOMETHING TO WRITE WITH!!! OFC HE WOULD HAVE AN EFFECTIVE WAY TO TAKE NOTES!!!)

Thank you for your attention, may you have a blessed day, darling!

[league-of-starlight]

Lux Voice Update concept:

First Move:

“The future can be bright, so long as we let hope live.”

“Come on, we’ve got a job to do.”

“In the name of magic, I shall punish the wicked!”

Long move:

“The people of Terbisia need me. Until I’m certain we can live without fear, I can’t return to Demacia with clear conscience.”

“The world might have darkness, but there’s still a lot of light if we go looking.”

First encounter:

“Have we met?”

“It’s not too late to leave.”

“I’d rather not blast you, so you can go.”

Joke response:

*Snort of laughter* “Okay, okay, that got me.”

Taunt response:

“I’ve been more afraid of my aunt than you.”

Killing:

(General):

“Go to the light. It can’t harm you…”

“I’m sorry, but it was the only way.”

“It had to be done…”

Recall:

“Be right back!”

“Starting to dim, got to brighten myself up!

Death:

“No…”

“Wait…”

“Sorry…”

Respawn:

(Stressed.) “If that happens to me one more time, I’m going to start blasting! Kidding, kidding…” *sigh*

“Woah! I’m… okay?”

“That was… dark.” *Nervous giggling.*

Character specific dialogue:

First encounter:

Annie: “A magic teddy bear? Now I’m getting jealous!”

Ezreal: *To herself* “Just ignore him, maybe he’ll leave.”

Fiora: *Imitating her accent* “En Guard, Miss Laurent!”

“Do you do anything besides fight?”

Galio: “Hey, sleepyhead! I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve grown up a lot since we last spoke. Three inches, to be precise.”

Garen: “…This is awkward.”

Jarvan: “You better keep an eye on those mageseekers.”

Jinx: “Have we met before? There’s something familiar.’

Katarina: “You might’ve helped me, but I’ve got my eye on you.”

Quinn: “Hi Quinn, hi Valor!”

Ryze: “If I win, could you teach me some rune spells? Please?”

Shyvana: “Has Jarvan ever ridden you into battle? What? I’m curious.”

Smoulder: “Aw, a little baby dragon!”

“I know someone who would love you!”

Sylas: “What do you want now?”

“Don’t you have enough magic?”

Mages:

“If you get tired of fighting, I know somewhere you can stay.”

Taunt:

Crystal Rose: “Oh, I remember going to royal balls. So many would-be suitors.” *shivering sound.*

Ezreal: “I’m flattered but you’re really, REALLY not my type.”

Garen: “I’m not just your kid sister anymore.”

Jinx: “I think I had a dream about you? Uh, that’s not weird to say, is it?”

Sentinel skins: “Sentinels of Light? Mind if I tryout?”

Katarina: “Have you and Garen made it past first base? Come oooon, tell me!”

Zoe: “You can have that Ezreal guy. Please, I’m begging you.”

Taunt Response:

Garen: (playfully) “Don’t be mean, Garen!”

Katarina: “Wait till I tell Garen about that!”

Nocturne: “Big talk for a shadow.”

Kill:

Ezreal: “Take a hint! Honestly…”

Garen: No, no, no, I’m sorry, I’m… *sigh*

Jinx: “…Why did you look so happy when I blasted you?”

Ryze: “Looks like I win.”

Sentinels: “Did I pass? …Oh. Hm. Too bright?”

Sylas: “The future will be bright. I just wish you could see it.”

——

Joke: “What’s a double rainbow? Ah, well… give me a minute, um…”

(Second time.)

“Well, a "double rainbow" is a phenomenon of optics that displays a spectrum of light due to the sun shining on droplets of moisture in the atmosphere. Does that explain it?”

(Third time in quick succession.)

“I’m not saying it again. Sorry.”

[dgknightblue]

So I have this thing. Optimus is in charge of the prison.

Where Optimus managed to get the Decepticons on probation without letting anyone knowing.

They are officially free to leave but just doesn’t tell them.

One day a decepticon team come to free their imprisoned leader and brethren. No one is stopping them.

Heck somebot hands them their stuff back.

“Next time just come through the door.”

Confused, they questioned what’s going on.

“It was about time to release you anyway.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask me, ask the warden. I’m going on break.”

———-

“What do you mean we are on probation?”

“I mean, somebot pleaded for your release with the compromise that your on probation.”

“Who?”

“You’re daughter.”

“Daughter?”

“And your son.”

“Sons?”

“My kids want you in their life for some reason.”

Thoroughly confused, and misunderstanding what’s happening Lugnut said, “Glorious Lord, when did you take an autobot as a consort?”

Optimus becomes a stuttering mess and denies it completely. Then a picture of Optimus floats out of Megatron’s belongings.

They all stare down at it.

“Where did you get that?”

“It’s not mine!”

There was a note written on the back. Megatron hands to him.

“I can explain.”

He forgot Sentinel send a picture of him to Megatron to “help”, because he thought Optimus had a crush on him. He was being genuine but he missed the mark by a mile.

He was crushing on Black Arachnia and when Optimus found out- he yelled at Sentinel. Optimus asked for BA to reject him in public. BA rejected him in private.

He explanation only confused them all further because he wasn’t speaking clearly and only caught the part where Sentinel thought Optimus had a crush on Megatron and was trying to “help”.

Optimus then attempted to jump out of a window.

“When’s the Conjunx ceremony?”

——-

I’ve been trying to be tight lipped about this particular joke with Sentinel and BA, but I can’t help it. It so funny.

“You what?! Why would you do that???”

“I was trying to help!”

“How is that helping???”

“Hahahahaha”

“BA stop laughing! It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny!”

“That’s it I’m off-lining myself!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“No you didn’t! I don’t even like Megatron! I was talking about BA!”

“You were so vague!”

“I thought he was pretty clear.”

“BA I need you to reject me! In public!”

“Why? I could right now.”

“If it’s in public, everyone will know it was meant for you!”

“But it wasn’t.”

“Sentinel, please tell me you didn’t say I wrote it.”

“Please tell me you didn’t say I wrote it.”

“Sentinel!”

“What did you write!?”

“If it makes you feel better, I could get you a warden job? That way you can get rid of the picture.”

———

That clearly didn’t happen as Optimus got distracted and forgot.

[ladyofthecastleproject]

The Knight and the Prince in the Castle

[AO3 version]

Summary:

Inside the castle, a battle occurs and V-mon worries for Lightnimon’s life. Then, Wallace has the visit of a familiar face… Could Wallace be rescued from Duskmon’s hands? Or…?

[Notes: It takes place in 2008; this was the first drabble I wrote actually...]

Something was moving quickly through the corridors of this new rendition of Vamdemon’s castle. It wasn’t exactly the same place Taichi and the Chosen Children had ventured in before, but some mysterious one was built during those times.

Maybe it was all an illusion, or it was created by magic. No one knows.

The mysterious shadow approaches from the door of a room in which a special person was inside. He was running out of time, and V-mon was next to him trying to keep him cool. The digimon next to the black armored shadow -- one armor with Lighdramon motif -- was denouncing his identity. But he didn’t care at this point, he couldn’t waste his chance.

But something happened.

Once the door opened, a digimon attacked them. It wasn’t the kid’s digimon, so it was supposed to be one of the soldiers from the real bad guy.

Wielding this glaive Lighdramon-based weapon, he and V-mon dodged from the enemies attack and prepared to battle.

“What’s this?”

“Undead digimon, MadLeomon” V-mon explained, “I can handle it by myself”

“You kidding!? I won’t let you fight alone!”

“We’re here to rescue Wallace, not to pick a fight with a sentinel!”

“Sigh…” he couldn’t evolve his partner-in-crime right now…

“Why are you here?”

Wallace appeared behind MadLeomon, not amused by those two’s presence.

“We came to rescue you!” V-mon said.

“I don’t need to be rescued, go away.”

“W-wait!” the armored ‘digimon’ shouted, “You want to stay here!?”

“I don’t need to talk with you.”

“They’re using you, Wallace!”

“Leave me alone, Chocomon is gone! Gummymon is missing! And this is all YOUR fault!”

MadLeomon dashed through the corridor, trying to hit the two prey with their arms. V-mon and the incognito warrior avoided it by dodging to the edges of the field.

“They brainwashed him!” V-mon warned his companion.

“Oh really? Darn it, Wallace!”

“Brainwashed…? How can I be brainwashed if I wanted to be here!? They explained my role in this world, while you and your friends lied to me.”

“What the heck are you talking about!?” the duo dodged another blow, “Daisuke-kun and his friends did not lie to you! Their group found Gummymon, and they weren’t aware of such power!!”

Wallace’s eyes showed a spark of light to the mention of Gummymon.

“T-they… Found him?”

However, MadLeomon kept attacking their opponents with no mercy. And they didn’t attack back with the fear of hitting their friend.

“Chocomon might be gone! But we can find him” V-mon yelled, “Please, come with us!”

“I… I can’t!”

“Why!?”

“Gummymon might hate me now, he might think I abandoned him but, but…!!”

“He does not hate yo--” The armored ‘digimon’ dodged another attack but got hit by a second blow, “Khh!!”

“L-Lightnimo--”  by V-mon despair, he also got caught off guard and hit by MadLeomon’s punches. He flew away, collapsing on the ground next to ‘Lightnimon’.

“He… Stop, please! L-Let them talk, you don’t need to protect me anymore!!”

“Master’s orders is to not let you alone and fight anyone who dares to stay on your way.”

“Bu-but they’re not doing anything wrong, please stop!”

“My orders are to eliminate whoever steps in.”

“No, leave them alone! MY order is to you stop right now!” Wallace stared at the undead digimon, and the digimon somehow stopped.

“Master won’t like this…”

“Well? I’m YOUR master now, and I order you to leave them alone.”

“Yes, master Wallace…” MadLeomon stepped back, and then the boy ran to the other two on the floor.

“Please don’t die here… I would go with you but I can’t, I’ve been watched and this might not be good for either of us…”

“Ghn…” V-mon got up, and then the other very slowly.

“W-we... Can’t leave you h-here…!” the masked ‘digimon’ said.

“... I’m sorry it’s all my fault. It’s my fault that you got hurt…! It’s my fault that I got separated from Gummymon, it’s my fault that Chocomon egg didn’t hatch--”

“It’s not your fault!” he grabbed Wallace by his collar, “You got fooled and kidnapped, we couldn’t do anything to stop it before! Gummymon does not hate you, neither Daisuke-kun nor his friends!”

“We need to leave this place right now, Lightni” V-mon alerted his partner, “I feel something is coming…!”

“W-why are you talking funny?!” Wallace frowned, “That’s not like you…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!I don’t speak funny, that’s my way to be!”

“No really, you’re talking very funny, also what’s with that get up…? You wanted to be cool and save me like your beloved prince?” Wallace smirked.

“You idiot I’m not who you think I am!! I’m--”

“Quit babbling and let’s get outta here Lightni!!”

“R-right…! We will come back for you…!” He freed Wallace and ran after V-mon.

They jumped from the corridor’s window, and mysteriously V-mon evolved to a Fladramon with flaming wings sprouting from his back. Wallace watched them vanish in the horizon, as the other guards reached the floor they were on.

Filled with doubts, the boy couldn’t tell what was said by that mysterious knight.

Somehow, he felt that ‘digimon’ was familiar…

“What are you doing, Daisuke?” was all he could think about.

[hitchell-mope]

(The Long Awaited Death Of The Most Hated Villain Lena Luthor)

Lillian (exasperatedly): for the final time Miss Lane. I did not kill my husband. He consumed port wine and porterhouse steaks religiously. Of course he died before he turned 50.

Lucy: and Lena’s ahem “parentage”?

Lillian: her mother was a maid from Dublin. In fact she was my maid from Dublin. But all it took was one week when Lex and I spent Mother’s Day in Paris and lo and behold. Lena.

Lucy: did you kill Lena’s mother?

Lillian: no. But I did call time of death. A blood clot is a terrible way to go. Even for a husband stealing slut.

Lucy: was Lionel abusive?

Lillian: only in Lex’s mind. I love my son. But the fact remains that he is a sociopath. And telling him that he can continue his chess game in the morning is essentially the equivalent of holding his head down on a heated fire poker. So no. My late husband was not abusive. And I’ll think you not to cast-Ruby’s passed out

Lucy: what?

Lillian: Ruby. Has passed. Out. And the twins are crying.

(It’s true. Ruby’s out cold on the floor and Alex and Kelly are trying to soothe a crying Eddie and Tony)

Alex: they’ve both been fed and been changed so why are they still crying?

Andrea: maybe they’re scared?

Kelly: they’re way too young to know what’s happening right now.

Cat: they’re in pain.

Alex: what?

Cat: Carter had a really bad bout of constipation when he was this age. Believe me. I know what a pain cry sounds like.

Alex: so what’s hurting them?

Lillian: oh no. Mr Schott. Mr Dey. Andrea. Get Ruby and the twins somewhere safe. Now!

Lucy: what? Why?

Lillian: I used the right dosage. I know I used the right dosage. She can’t have processed it this quickly.

Winn: Lillian! What. Is. Happening?

Lillian: I think Lena’s trying to break into the tower. And I think she has kryptonite.

Winn: okay here’s what we’re going to do! Alex, Lucy, Andrea and Kelly with me. William, Cat and Morgan you take the kids to the med room and out Ruby and the twins under the sun lamps.

Lillian: and what about me?

Winn: you stay here. Even with the truth seeker I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.

Lillian: understandable.

Winn (rushing over to Ruby): c’mon kiddo. Wake up. We need to get you somewhere safe.

Ruby: what’s wrong with my head?

Winn: kryptonite. We think Lena’s trying to break in to the tower.

Ruby: oh no. She’s going to kill me.

Winn: hey. I’m not gonna let that happen. She’s not gonna touch you.

Ruby: how can you know that?

Winn: you know when your mom tells you everything’s going to be fine and you think she’s probably lying to make you feel better?

Ruby: yes.

Winn: everything’s going to be fine.

Ruby: well colour mr reassAAAAH!!!!

Winn: GO, GO, GO!!!!

(William and the hightail it to the med room. Just in time too because Lena literally hacks her way into the control room with an axe the moment the med room door is closed)

Lena: you!

Lillian: yes lena. It is I. What’re you doing here. And awake.

Lena: I learned things from my experiment. Always have kryptonite handy in case the aliens try to trip you up.

Alex: say goodnight Gracie

(She aims her gun at Lena but is stopped by Winn)

Winn: no wait don’t!

Alex: it’s lena! She needs to die!

Winn: look at her skin.

Alex: oh my god....

Andrea: why is she green?

Lucy: she didn’t.

Winn, Alex and Kelly: she did.

Lena (gloatingly): yes I did. Now give me Ruby and the other two half breeds and I’ll be on my way

Winn: don’t you dare call them that.

Lena: well it’s what they are. Half Kryptonian. Half Daxamite. Half human. All monsters. But perfect for test subjects. I will complete non nocere. And nobody will ever stand in my way again.

Alex: you’ll have to kill us first.

Lena: that can be arranged Sentinel.

Andrea: could someone please tell me what’s happening right now?

Winn: she injected herself with kryptonite.

Alex: we shoot her, stab her or break her skin in any way, my nephews and Ruby could die.

Andrea: oh my god.

Kelly: we could taser her?

Winn: we can’t risk it.

Lena: oh you can’t win, Winn. You know you can’t. I’m a Luthor. We endure. We persevere. We survive.

Lillian: you are not a Luthor. All you are is the bastard I got saddled with when my poor husband’s heart gave out on him.

Lena: I know you killed him. Just like you killed my mother.

Lillian (inching closer towards the psychopath): no I didn’t. And you know I didn’t. He was a good man who made a terrible mistake and you are the result of that mistake. So why don’t you just calm down and come with me so I can flush the kryptonite out of your system and oof!

(Andrea’s pushed Lillian to the floor, teleported Lena out to the balcony and is holding the psychopath over the street below. Lena let’s out a deranged laugh like a hyena)

Lena: go on then. DO IT YOU COWARD!!!! DO IT!!!!

(Andrea falters)

Lena: I knew it. You’re weak Rojas. You’ve always been weak. And I’ve outgrown you.

Andrea (tears pouring down her face): you ruined my relationship with my father. You’re the reason Russ was killed. I have to do it. I have to kill you. I have to.

Lillian: no she doesn’t. Mr Schott. I would like it put on the record that I would have gladly subjected myself to a Martian mind wipe

Winn: noted. Wait what?

(Lillian stalks over to Andrea, pulls her away from Lena and restrains her stepdaughter)

Lena: let me go! Let me go mother! LET ME GO!

Lillian: Andrea. You and Samantha were the best daughters I could have hoped for. You are not us. Be better.

(Her final words said, Lillian pulls herself and Lena over the railing of the balcony and down to the street below. Dying immediately on impact, leaving Andrea a sobbing wreck)

Carter (coming out of the med room with Cat, Morgan and William in tow): what happened?

Lucy: Lillian and Lena dead

Morgan: it’s about damn time. Good riddance to godawful rubbish I say.

Cat: agreed.

(William rushes over to Andrea and hugs her)

Andrea (still crying): I tried. I really tried. But I couldn’t do it. I’m so sorry.

William: shhhh. It’s okay. It’s over. It’s over. It’s all over.

Winn (looking at the video feed): I really wish I could say the same William. But we’ve still got a really long way to go.

(To Be Continued)

[oatchi]

well. go on then sentinel boy talk about him

OH YEAH SINCE I FINALLY FIXED MY TUMBLR I CAN ACTUALLY ANSWER THIS..!!!! at 8 pm est. sure

favorite thing about them (spinning in an autistic way) im sorry literally what can i say that i havent said before. hes literally my best friend. genuinely my favourite tfa character. hes everything to me he is so complicated stop simplifying him down to his exterior personality. hes literally my everything. if you wanted me to explain in any meaningful way, i think if you look into things past his exterior, hes one of my favourite representations of ways people respond to trauma that isnt pretty, and he has some crazy symbolism. and i think him and optimus have the most relationship ever like its. auhhh. its soooo complicated for a kids show hes everything to me

least favorite thing about them i wont pretend he doesnt have faults but. you. (grips everyone who misinterprets him, including actual tf writers) fuck you. you are his biggest problem. the more you play him to be some asshole just to be an asshole the more you all miss the point. go watch predacons rising and decepticon air and then go read the allspark almanac specifically his entries on those things. and his entry on archa seven. and his entry on the return of the headmaster for extra credit. go read those and get your essay explaining how he is an asshole for no reason back on my desk if you still feel he is one

favorite line literally who doesnt love the maintenance prime bit. its so cute im sorry im insane. my man made a joke and then 4 hours later was still giggling over it. whats wrong with you. two more i like include the "primer prime" conversation in predacons rising, and this fucking insane line from the almanac (seriously go read the almanac its insanity in there)

brOTP platonic relationships with sentinel are basically all hypothetical because he has literally like half a friend at most. but i think this goes to bumblebee LISTEN TO ME FIRST LISTEN TO ME FIRST PLEASE LISTEN could you imagine sitting those two down in a room together and getting them to actually talk about their issues.... good god. like oooo were both egotistical and think were the best and any time this is even remotely disproven to us we respond in high emotion typically anger and deep down this is all rooted in a need for attention and a need to protect....... also if they got along they would be so fucking annoying i think its what they both need though. they both bring the idea to each other that rank doesnt define happiness as a realization and its like oh my god.... oh my god....? oh my god. and then bumblebee will definitely convince sentinel to pull petty pranks on optimus with him and optimus is going to regret making these two friends but deep down be heartwarmed about it.

OTP . well if you read my optimus one must i say more. im the senop guy im sorryyyy. heres a new block for this one auuuuuuuu the intricacies of it allllll.... since this is my sentinel post i just... good god the way him and optimus are. the complex feelings sentinel has entirely. imagine you experience the trauma of your friend (potentially girlfriend) dying in front of you and as a defense mechanism you cant allow yourself to be the blame because that would break you so you blame your only other friend (potentially boyfriend. my post my insanity) and you manage to shut him out out of fear of getting hurt again and because you associate him with hurt in general like the whole man is a walking flashback and then one day he dies. and you were one of the last people he talked to. ever. imagine what that does to a guy. even in a comic that i dont particularly like the sentinel depiction in hes put in chaaaarge of his fuuuneraaalllll good GOD what the fuck. and now imagine 50 years later you find out hes alive. and from your perspective, never told you he was. after everything. and now, imagine, your other friend who died hundreds, if not a thousand years ago, is also alive. and he definitely knew. and didnt tell you. and now imagine this man is also the closest thing you have to a friend because you never made friends his absence because "cant lose friends if you dont have them." yeah. yeah. him and optimus need to talk about this and i think kiss about it

nOTP i so rarely see sentinel ships. the only ones i really see are sentinel/jazz, which i think is cool cute even, sentinel/lockdown which is. ??????????? see my prowl post girl i think if that happened sentinel would just fully not be an autobot at that point. that cannot feasibly happen in the normal timeline. and i have very rarely seen some weird stuff with the jettwins. which is a definite no no from me. dont do that. but thats a general thing i think most jettwin ships are weird because they read as so young to me. so what im saying is because no one likes sentinel i have never really been presented with anything that makes me want to kill and maim really.

random headcanon autistic prowl this autistic bulkhead that. sentinel is robot autistic and no one wants to talk about it because hes not "cute" with it. youre telling me you have a guy who rarely understands emotional and social cues who fails to be empathetic in any way at all and is that bad at lying and often does not show the "correct" emotions for social situations and has a lot of rule following tendencies and gets so grossed out from the touch of organic stuff that he needs to clean the feel off of him (something i also just attribute to trauma but i will fight on this hill) and you dont think thats autistic of him? your bias is showing

unpopular opinion hes literally such a sympathetic character. he is not even close to a joke character. he is also not the worst bot in the show at all in terms of weird crimes and moral shit. you are all just so mean to him. you saw the project omega events and you think sentinel being a little mean to optimus is the big bad here. you think him hunting down wasp (albeit a fucked up act the way he did it) is the worst thing ever? read how the jettwins were made. you think the things he said to blackarachnia in predacons rising and felt like blackarachnia was more sympathetic somehow even if she was probably WORSE than him in terms of war crimes..? like i felt bad for them both but she literally had live test subjects multiple times. also another fucking point for ultra magnus war crimes he is just as harsh on optimus as sentinel just more eloquent with his words and more willing to admit when hes wrong. that doesnt take away the harshness you are just BIASED..!!

song i associate with them (uncomfortably long stare at my sentinel playlist) (looking back) um. ok. just one? ok. uh.. well. lets go with the first on that very playlist. Dear McCracken by Bug Hunter. This is the senop song ever to me. imagine it from jazz's perspective which is absolutely insane to say i know but. you see the plane is the steelhaven and sentinel is the middle aged woman and optimus is mccracken. you just have to understand.

favorite picture of them this from the return of the headmaster hes so cute to me. can you tell that return of the headmaster is one of my favourite episodes ever. i bet you can guess what my other ones are too.

[sproutsgcrden]

sentinel of naruhata | chapter three

koichi's very bad, no good day

warnings: descriptions of violence, manga spoilers for my hero academia: vigilantes

previous chapter | masterlist | read on ao3 | next chapter

want to be tagged? send in an ask and let me know!

“So… you’re Haimawari Koichi, age 19, freshman at Hitonami College… I’ll just call you Koichi, then. Unless you like the sound of Nice Guy better.”

Izuku laughed at Haimawari’s sputtering reaction, clutching his stomach as he leaned back against the cool floor of Koichi’s little one-room apartment. After the incident with the return of those thugs, Izuku and Knuckleduster followed Koichi back to his home. Knuckleduster was determined to recruit the both of them, and Izuku just… didn’t have anywhere else to be. He was sure that Eraserhead was already done with patrol by the time their skirmish ended.

Luckily, Koichi didn’t seem to mind too much when Izuku mentioned dying his hair. He felt the black suited him nicely, even if it was still a little damp. He didn’t need Tomura or Kurogiri making a surprise appearance and immediately picking out his green curls from the crowd.

“Don’t go through my stuff, crazy old man!” Koichi reached over to grab his student I.D. and his wallet from Knuckleduster’s grasp.

The veteran vigilante ignored him as he turned to face Izuku. “And what should we call you, kid?”

“Izuku.” The young boy had stopped laughing, but he was still laying on the floor.

“What, no last name? Running away from home?”

“What’s it to you?”

Koichi leaned over him, glancing down with concerned eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to live off of the streets… No wonder you bought a weird amount of junk at the store.”

Izuku grimaced, sitting up and pushing the older kid out of his space. “I’m fine. Can we change subjects?”

Knuckleduster nodded, sending a small smirk Izuku’s way. “Okay. Why are you looking for Eraserhead?”

Koichi blinked, ignoring Izuku’s frustrated groan. “Who’s Eraserhead?”

“He’s an underground hero. He can erase quirks, barring any mutations, and he practically fights quirkless. He’s a badass.” Izuku was talking animatedly, moving his hands around wildly.

“Oh. Wait. Is he your dad?”

“Why would he be my father?!”

“You have the exact same quirk don’t you?”

Izuku slumped, flitting his gaze towards the floor. “It’s similar. I want him to train me how to be a hero. Plus I need his help with something, not that I’m gonna tell you losers what that is.”

Koichi let out an offended grunt while Knuckleduster heartily chuckled.

“Anyways. The two of you will be calling me Master.” Knuckleduster moved from the table to the small mini fridge in the corner of the room, opening it up to find it full of beer.

“Didn’t we tell you that we weren’t going to be your apprentices?” Koichi glared as the man opened a can of beer and began to chug it. “And would you get out already? This is my house!”

The old man ignored Koichi’s protests in favor of grabbing another can of beer. “The drug is called Trigger. It’s a quirk-booster; it also weakens the user’s ability to reason. Basically, this drug turns regular folk into instant villains.”

Izuku glared at the table, clenching his hands into tight fists. He knew all too well what Trigger was capable of. He shuddered as he dared to think what could happen if his father forced Tomura to take the drug. Japan would be completely decimated.

“So, why not just let the heroes do something about it? Or call the police.” Koichi let his head drop to the table, bored and frustrated at the fact that Knuckleduster was refusing to leave him alone.

Knuckleduster barked out a short laugh. “Ain’t gonna happen, kid. These pop-up villains on trigger can emerge from any crowd, at any time. Cops and heroes are always forced to play catch-up.”

“Oh. So they blend in with everyone else?”

“Exactly. And that’s where we come in!” Shocking the two boys into backing up, Knuckleduster hopped to his feet, hand clenched into a fist.

Izuku shook out of the state first, glaring at the older man. “Did you just say ‘we’?”

“That’s right, kid! The three of us are gonna go out, stop suspicious looking characters, and check their tongues!”

“Okay, even if we wanted to go with you, why are you allowing a nine-year old to accompany you? That seems pretty crazy to me.”

“Oh please. He’s more advanced in quirk usage and hand to hand than you, just based on last night. Plus, if he’s hiding from his parents, he’s got nothing else to do. He’s already a deviant in the law’s eyes.”

Izuku could do nothing but reluctantly nod his head at that.

“Trigger turns the user’s tongue black, so we’re gonna give those losers a beat down and make them spill the details on their dealer. That’s the only way to put an end to this whole drug trade.”

Koichi sweat dropped, shaking his head. “So you just want us to go around punching people?”

“Exactly!”

“I thought you were just joking! What the hell, man!” Koichi screamed as he hung off of Knuckleduster’s left arm. Izuku laughed maniacally as he hung off of the vigilante’s neck. He was punching people with his right hand and checking their tongues.

Koichi could admit he was a great multitasker. But holy shit, this man was insane.

The three of them were causing quite the commotion; people were screaming and running away from a man carrying a college student and a little kid who was also throttling everyone he was in range of. It wouldn’t be too long before a hero showed up to stop whatever was happening.

In a desperate attempt to stop Knuckleduster’s shenanigans, Koichi called out to the group closest to them. “Please! Give us a peek at your tongues! Stick ‘em out a little and this will all be over!” The guy closest to them stuck out his, thankfully, normal looking tongue. Koichi tried not to be too offended when the man also flipped him off.

It was hard to hear over Izuku’s laughter, which only increased in volume after getting the finger, but Koichi’s ear perked up at the sound of boots hitting the metal above them. With a glance upwards, the hoodie-clad vigilante felt his eyes soften in relief. “Pop Step!”

“What the hell are you losers doing?” The pink haired idol-in-the-making jumped down to the ground as soon as Kunckleduster threw both Koichi and Izuku on a nearby bench. They landed harshly, Izuku’s laughter tapering off within an instant. Koichi immediately shook it off, and stalked over to a nearby vending machine, selecting a coffee for himself and a juice for Izuku.

“Why don’t you ask the old man? He was the one chasing after innocent bystanders like a lunatic.” Koichi mosied back over to the bench, tossing Izuku the juice as he plopped down beside him.

“I’m nine, not a toddler. What if I wanted a coffee?”

“If they cooperated, I wouldn’t have to look like a lunatic now would I?”

Koichi ignored the both of them as he opened his coffee, taking a well-deserved sip after lowering his mask. He leaned his head back in a rare moment of reprieve, trying to block out the weirdness he somehow chose to surround himself with. He only blinked back into the present when Pop Step aggressively leaned on his arm.

“So you’re looking for junkies and dealers, huh?” Her thoughtful expression drooped into a grimace as she looked away from Knuckleduster. “Thanks for showing up last night, pops. Provided me with a distraction so I could slip away from that idiot.”

“Whatever.”

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?!”

Pop Step shrugged, stepping back and throwing her hands on her hips. “Why’s the runt still following you around?”

Izuku, who was absentmindedly sipping on the juice that Koichi had gotten him, slowly looked up at Pop Step with narrowed eyes. “I’m not following them. I’ve just got nowhere else to be at the moment and it’s entertaining to see these two create chaos.”

“Right… and that Eraserdude you were looking for?”

“I won’t even be able to start searching for him until night falls. I’m just passing the time.”

Pop blinked a few times before turning back to Koichi. “So, Nice Guy!”

“You can just call me Koichi.”

“Koichi? Is that your real name?” Pop Step hopped in place, her large grin very apparent. “Why are you going along with this, Koichi?

The college student paused, the can of coffee held up to his lips as if he was ready to take another sip. He slowly moved it down, allowing it to rest against his thigh instead. “I just… if I don’t keep an eye on the guy, he’ll beat up every last person on the streets.”

“Nah. I start with the most suspicious ones… like youngsters who can’t stop messing around.”

Koichi ignored the statement, along with Izuku’s snort, as he continued. “And who knows what kind of trouble the kid’ll get up to without a responsible adult nearby!”

“Responsible? Says the dude who’s only item in his fridge is a case of beer!”

“You all are morons!” Pop stomped her foot against the ground. “Going at it so randomly is never going to work. Why don’t you use your heads!!”

Koichi looked up at the girl from his spot on the bench, eyes blank in confusion. “Our heads?”

Pop Step rolled her eyes, sitting on the edge of the bench and pulling out her phone. “Whenever a villain shows up, someone’s bound to snap a pic!”

“That’s right!” Izuku shot up, bringing his phone out as well. “The hero forums are always swimming with pictures of recent attacks.”

“All you need to do is refine the search to ‘unknown’ or ‘sudden’ villains. That’ll mean less legwork for you clowns!”

Koichi blinked, “That’s clever.”

“The photo search or calling you clowns?”

Izuku’s cackle rang out, echoing in Koichi’s ears as he glared at the girl sitting next to him. The three of them nearly missed it when Knuckleduster shot up from his seat in pursuit of a new target.

“Hey! Stick your tongue!”

“Oh, not this again!!” Koichi ran out in front of Knuckleduster, coming to the newcomer’s defense. “C’mon man, this guy is clearly just your average salaryman! He’s not even bothering anyone!”

In his rush to save the seemingly innocent man from getting punched in the face, Koichi barely came to a stop before nearly running into the newcomer. In shock, the man dropped his briefcase, crying out when hero themed action figures came tumbling out.

“See! I told you the guy was fishy! What kind of adult carries around dolls in a briefcase!”

Izuku and Pop Step had just caught up, exchanging concerned and bewildered looks. The young boy pulled his mask over his face and bent down to help the man pick up the toys.

“I- I’m sorry! I work at a toy company, these are just prototypes.”

“See! Nothing suspicious about that! He’s just a hardworking guy!” Koichi’s voice rang out as he tried to push Knuckleduster back.

The elder vigilante wasn’t having it, however, and pushed forward to grab onto the man’s lapel. “That’s what I’m trying to prove! So cooperate, or else.” His free hand cocked back, gloved fingers positioned into a tight fist.

Before Knuckleduster’s fist could land a hit on the poor businessman, a white cloth wrapped itself around his arm, effectively preventing his attack. Knuckleduster grunted as his arm was pulled back, and his eyes narrowed at the figure behind him. Izuku gasped, eyes widened as he took in the hero before them.

“Violent acts in full view of the public… you’re hardly a model citizen.” A gruff voice, harsh from sleep deprivation, sounded out from behind the group. Pop Step and Koichi backed up behind Izuku and Knuckleduster, shocked looks on their faces. “You must be one of those instant villains of late.”

Knuckleduster guffawed, “Hey kid! Looks like it’s your lucky day, huh?”

The newcomer’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, locking on to the young boy who seemed to be hyperventilating out of excitement.

Izuku’s green eyes sparkled in delight, holding his hands up in hopes of proving he wasn’t a threat. “You’re the Erasure Hero: Eraserhead! You lead the underground in both villain captures and civilian rescues, but you never stay long enough to actually gain any credit! Your fighting style is incredible! I always wondered if your capture weapon worked in tandem with your quirk- your hair floats when you use it, yeah? Does it negate small amounts of gravity near you? That would explain why your scarf seems to deny the laws of physics!” His voice carried on, causing those around him to stop and stare.

“Did you know the kid was so…”

“I’ve never heard him speak more than necessary. This is definitely new.”

Eraserhead was the first to snap out of the trance, tightening his grip on his capture weapon as he lowered himself into a battle stance. “I’m not sure how you got such vital information- I work very hard to make sure there isn’t much coverage on my exploits.”

Izuku nodded, standing in place. “There are only two clips I was able to find- but I’ve been looking for you for some time now! We’re not here to cause trouble, promise!”

“Either way, I’m off duty today. Just being a good samaritan.”

Knuckleduster grinned, turning to face the hero fully. “So we got that in common.”

Koichi backed away further, hands high in the air. “No way does he think we’re villains, right?”

“Hey, hey! Don’t lump me in with these guys!” Pop Step jumped, using her quirk to land a few yards backwards.

There was a tense moment of silence before disaster struck. Izuku, sensing trouble out of the corner of his eye, cursed as Knuckleduster rushed towards Eraserhead. The hero, now fully prepared for battle, dropped the sack he was holding. Cat food and jelly pouches flew out of the bag, bursting open against the hard pavement. Knuckleduster chose to go high, fist ready and aimed for Eraserhead’s face.

Izuku sighed, ignoring the shouts from Koichi and Pop Step as he jumped into the fray.

Yeah… this is the most idiotic thing he’s ever done.

[padme-parker]

Collide / Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Chapter 6)

[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]

Summary: You go to Onderon and meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Another call to home ensues and hearts get broken.

Warnings: angst, maybe cursing, I can’t think of anything else. oh and bad plot lmao

WC: 4.0k

A/N: this isn’t proof read so it might be scuffed. 

read chapter 5 here

C O R U S C A N T

After the nightmares began, Anakin was rarely around, only making you more susceptible to the dark side. You truly did want to tell him about what had been keeping you up at night, but how were you going to contact him when he was never around and the connection the two of you shared was seemingly cut off? You weren’t able to feel his emotions nor feel his presence. It was as if he had blocked you off, almost like he was dead, but he wasn’t. You knew that he went on more campaigns as he was barely spending time in the temple, wanting to stay as far away from you. And if the two of you ever were in the same room by sheer luck, he pretended that you didn’t exist.

On days where both Anakin and Obi Wan were gone, you trained with a girl named Xin. In a way, she reminded you of the mandalorian Sabine: intelligent, strong, and creative. She was skilled with her lightsaber, but also greatly skilled in hand to hand combat, making her an excellent training partner. When all three of them were gone, you spent time learning binary after shortly being gifted a droid. R2-KT, or Kaytee as you liked to call her, accompanied you on your walks around the Jedi temple, often telling you random facts about it or Coruscant.

As time passed, you noticed how the council became weary of your presence. After noticing the color of your saber, which wasn’t hard to miss, the Jedi Masters seemed to focus their attention on you whenever you were in the room with them. You would have liked to believe that you had begun to earn their trust, but you understood their cautiousness towards you. Hell, you would’ve probably reacted the same way if someone came to Earth using a big stone hidden in the middle of nowhere claiming that the fate of the universe rested in their hands.

The halls of the temple were empty- excluding the sentinels- as you roamed around with Kaytee at your side. It was still so surreal being in the Jedi temple. Six months ago you were on Earth, spending time with your family. It seemed so long ago since you were first introduced to Star Wars.

You were foreign to the concept of bonding, spending time with your peers. After spending almost 17 years in foster care, you learned to not attach yourself. To become cold, detached, and observant of your surroundings. With your arrival to the tower, it became a shock to you when you found out that the team spent time together willingly. Some nights they played games like Uno and Cards Against Humanity. You would always sit in the corner and watch them, not comfortable enough to be engaging with them in such a way like that. On the nights where they watched movies, you would always sit in the furthest seat away from the group. It stayed like that until Peter started coming to the bonding nights.

Due to the fact that he was still young, he stayed with his Aunt May. Only coming to the tower to help Tony with his projects. So it was a surprise to see him there, but you couldn’t help feel more comfortable knowing that someone else your age was there.

“So, what’re we watching tonight?” He asked. The team let out a couple of groans, unsure of what they were getting into. “How about we watch Star Wars? I bet you those two grandpas haven’t seen it yet.”

“Hey! Watch it, Peter.” Steve said, putting his hand over his heart to feign hurt. All it took for him to apologize was one glance at Bucky. “Sorry Mister Winter- uhh James- Bucky-- no. Sir Barnes. And Steve.”

He goes to sit down, but before he does, he takes a survey of the room. He notices you sitting alone on the couch, “Hey, why don’t you come sit closer?” He asked. You shake your head, telling him that you were alright where you were. “What about you? Have you seen Star Wars?” You quickly shake your head, you see Peter’s eyes widen and he takes off to sit in the empty spot next to you.

“OMG. WHAT? How have you never seen the movies?”

“Not everyone has the privilege to have a normal childhood. I just so happened to be one of those kids.” You informed him.

“Right, sorry.” He apologized, his hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sure you’ll love the movies though.”

Peter was right. After watching A New Hope, the team had retired to their respective rooms, but the two of you had stayed up all night finishing the movies. After watching all three trilogies, you had a new found obsession, especially for a certain Skywalker. Even though some people thought that Anakin was a bad character, and sure the script was really bad, you really did love him. So when he betrayed Obi Wan to save Padme, your heart couldn’t help but break. Poor man was so whipped for the pussy :( I guess you could call it to die for.

Although your time on Coruscant was limited, you did your best to enjoy it. The six months you had spent here so far had been a gift. The environment was truly mesmerizing, and you wanted to share it with Peter. You tried not to call him often, the time difference was just slightly confusing. While six months might’ve passed for you, it had only been a month for your family back home.

You were broken out of your reverie by the buzzing of your holocom, requesting your presence in the council room. Making your way into the room, you told Kaytee to wait by the doors. You stood in the middle of the room with your hands clasped behind your back, waiting for them to address you.

“Nice to see you it is.” Master yoda said. “A task for you, we have.”

A task? What could they possibly want you to do? There was no way they’d be sending you on a mission, they never did.

“We want you to travel to Onderon. They are celebrating their liberation from the separatists. I don’t know why but Anakin and Obi Wan would like for you to be present-” Before Mace can finish his sentence he is cut off.

“I believe what Master Windu is trying to say is that they would both like for you to experience what our galaxy has to offer.” Shaak Ti answered for him. “There will be other Jedi there too, but you will be traveling on your own.” She said. “Oh, and please keep in mind, this celebration is also being held in remembrance for Steela, their fallen leader.”

“Understood, may I leave now?” Master Yoda gave you a nod, allowing you to leave. You made your way to the hangar, Kaytee following close behind you. Well, it looks like it was time to see Anakin again.

-

O N D E R O N

Your journey to Onderon is short, but you take the time to fiddle with Kaytee. Cleaning her up to make her look presentable. Weeks after you were gifted the droid, you took the time to fix her up and reprogram her to your liking. With the touch of a button, you could make her record a hologram, send her your location, or gouge out someone's eye if needed. You truly did love your droid, and you thanked the stars that Stark taught you how to code, program, and build trinkets of your own.

Kaytee lands the ship with a heavy thud, “I know you're excited to see Artoo, but we need to be careful with this ship. It’s not ours.” You told her, and in return you get a series of apologetic beeps. The door opens with a hiss, you signal for Kaytee to follow you. Stepping off, you notice all of the other ships outside of Iziz. It was like all the entirety of the galactic senate was here, which you really didn’t doubt. You felt out of place in your Jedi robes. People were arriving in magnificent, mind blowing outfits. Gowns with tails that trailed far behind them and tuxes with flowy capes. This ball was going to have it all.

The bustle of the market only intensified with the oncomers. You had to make your way to the temple before you got distracted. By the time you reached the temple doors, the crowd lessened, or so you thought. Entering the temple, you were greeted at the sight of hundreds of people. You felt blood rush to your cheeks as people began to turn and stare at you. Screw the Jedi Council for not giving me a nice outfit to change into. Just as you were about to turn around and wander through the market, you heard your voice being called out. You tried to find where the sound was coming from, only to get confused and jolt your head around violently as if you were a loth cat.

“Alyra! Over here!.” Your feet began moving on their own accord. As if you were being drawn to a presence. You come to a screeching halt in front of.. Anakin, of course it's him. Why am I not surprised that the force has literally brought me to him? Along with Obi Wan, R2, and Padme. Oh my god, wait, it’s Padme. I could kiss her right now if I wanted to. But I won’t. That would be weird, won’t it. Kissing her in front of her husband, who is my-

“Alyra, are you alright?” Obi Wan asks, breaking you out of your internal ramble.

“Yeah, I was just...trying to take all of this in. I’ve never seen anything like this.” You responded, pretending to look around the temple.

“It seems like you space out a lot.” He jokes, a smile on his face before he realizes no one else is laughing. He rolls his eyes before continuing, “Anyways, welcome to Onderon. This is my good friend, Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo.” He turns to face her while he introduces you to her. You hold out a hand, expecting for her to shake it. Instead she walks up to you and takes you within her hold. She hugs you tightly, you can feel her protruding belly.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you! Anakin has talked a lot about you.” Both you and Obi Wan furrow your brows at the mention of Anakin speaking of you. Padme is quick to notice this and corrects herself, “I mean of what he’s mentioned to me about you today. Right, Ani?” She validates.

“Yeah, only good things though.” He testified, avoiding your gaze. It was weird that he was mentioning you to his pregnant wife, what was there to talk about? Not to mention the fact that he had been avoiding your presence for months now.

You squinted your eyes at him, “I could only hope so, seeing as though we haven’t spoken in awhile.” you accused. What in the world is he up to now?

You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to come up with a comeback, before he can utter a word, he’s interrupted by Padme.

“C’mon, let’s go to your room and get you changed.” Once again, you furrow your brows.

“Changed, what do you mean changed?” You ask her.

“What, did you think I’d just let you roam around the ball in those ugly Jedi robes? Come, I’ll let you borrow one of my dresses.” She drags you away by the arm, Anakin and Obi Wan shouting at her. Something about Jedi robes not being ugly, you couldn’t really hear with Padme’s giggles silencing them. Kaytee let’s out a giggle of her own as she follows you, Artoo’s personality rubbing off on her.

Padmé all but practically throws you onto your bed as she ushers one of her handmaidens, Teckla, to bring the dresses into your room. Teckla wheels in a rack filled with elegant looking dresses, along with a bunch of different heels. All looking like they could snap your ankle in half if you walked the wrong way. The first dress she hands you is body conforming up until it reaches your knees, from there it fans out creating a mermaid gown effect. While the dress itself was very beautiful, you thought of it to be too plain for an event like this. You and Padme both share a look before agreeing that this was in fact not the dress.

However, the next dress she hands you is a proper ball gown. You slip it on, taken aback by how heavy the dress was. She walks up behind you to tighten the corset of the gown. She does her best to tighten it up without hurting you, but you can’t help let out a wheeze as she gets closer to tying it off.

“Sorry, as much as I love this dress, I also hate it. I’m so glad I’m pregnant so I don’t have to feel it stabbing me at every given chance.” She said, breaking the silence.

“How many months are you?” You asked.

“I’m six months along now, almost seven.” She finishes tying up the corset before stepping aside. “What do you think?”

“Well, it certainly is fit for an event like this and I do think it’s beautiful. But it’s crushing me with every breath I take. I feel like if I sit down, I won’t be able to get back up.”

“Right, well I can fix that.” This time she takes her time picking out the next dress. She lets her fingers brush across the different fabrics, stopping at one that caught her eye. “Here, try this one!” She suggests. By the look on her face, you can already tell that this is the one. The dress is flowy and soft looking. You step into the dress, pleased to find yourself correct. It feels like you have nothing on. Padme helps you zip the dress up, along with clasping together the leather pieces. The light blue tulle layered over the dark blue, almost purple material complimented your skin tone. The dress had a deep v-neck, showing off your cleavage. Right below your collarbone laid a strap of leather, connecting to either side of your thick shoulder straps. From those straps, a thin piece of tulle was stitched on, giving you two separate mini capes for your arms. Aside from a strap of leather covering your spine, the dress is completely backless. It feels like you could go frolicking in this dress. Who am I kidding, Padme probably went frolicking in this dress with Anakin.

“So, what do you think?” Her tone is hushed, as if she was trying to figure out whether you hated or loved the dress.

“It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” You respond. “Kaytee, what do you reckon?” The droid let’s out a series of delights beeps, showing her contentment towards the dress.

“Great!” Padmé says before ushering you into a chair. “Now, we're going to do your hair and makeup. So sit still.” For once in your life, you shut up and sit still, allowing Padme to work her magic.

“Do you know the gender?” You asked, your question breaking the silence, and while the atmosphere wasn’t exactly awkward, it wasn’t comfortable either.

“Oh no, I’d rather not. It’s not like it matters to me anyways. As long as my child is happy and healthy, then so am I. But it’s ironic because I haven’t been to a check up yet.” Padme gently pulls your hair back, leaving two pieces in the front to frame your face. It was simple, not taking any attention away from the dress.

No check up? Maybe that’s why Padme didn’t know she was having twins. “So you haven’t seen a doctor or a medical droid yet?” Your eyes follow her as she pulls makeup out of her bag, her collection vast.

“No, not really. I don’t have very much time to myself due to the fact that I’m a part of the senate. But I do my best to make sure I stay healthy for my baby and me. I also just want it to be a surprise.” Padme finds a foundation shade similar to your skin tone and blends it in.

“What if you have twins? What will you do then?” You probably weren’t supposed to be asking her questions like these, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe you should’ve asked why she had so much makeup instead.

“Well..” She sighed while blotting powder all over your face. “..I suppose if it happens, then it happens. It’s the will of the force.” She finishes powdering your face before moving to your eyebrows. Padme takes an angled brow brush and begins to fill them in, giving it a naturally fuller look.

“So, you believe in the force?”

“How could I not? I work so closely with the Jedi, I’ve seen what you guys have done. The father is very close friends with the Jedi.” Padme said, implying that the father was in fact a Jedi. It felt like you were intruding, but then again, you weren’t necessarily forcing her to tell you this. You had only met her moments ago and she already trusted you enough with her secrets.

“Really? I thought the Jedi weren’t allowed to form attachments?”

“Oh… we weren’t really together. It was sort of a one night thing. But he’s going to be in the child’s life.” She covered up.

The conversation went on like that for a while before Padme announced that she was finished with you. After finishing your makeup and adding some finishing touches to your hair, she finally stepped aside, letting you see yourself in the mirror.

The second you saw yourself, your mouth fell open in shock. You looked absolutely ethereal. Padme kept your makeup very natural to bring out your features. She also added small, white flowers into your hair. You excitedly thanked her and got up to hug her as a way to show your gratitude.

“Shall we get going now?” She offered

“Oh, if it was alright with you, I was going to stay behind. I have to contact somebody.” You asked

“Of course, I’ll see you later then.” She said before gathering all of her belongings and leaving with Teckla. As Padme arrives, Anakin notices that you weren’t with her.

“Where’s Alyra?” He asked her, eager to see what she would look like out of her Jedi robes.

“She said she had to talk to someone.”

Meanwhile, in your room you were getting ready to call Peter. Honestly, you had no idea if you had connection on Onderon, but you were about to find out. Taking off your necklace, you were pleased to see the green light, indicating that you were indeed connected to the bridge. You scroll through your contacts before finding Peter’s name. You hit the dial button and wait for it to connect.

-

E A R T H

Peter is sleeping when he gets a call, the bracelet on his left hand vibrating. He thinks nothing of it and almost declines the call. That is until he realizes it’s you calling on the bracelet he had designated just for you. He jumps up from his sleeping position and quickly answers your call. Peter can’t help but let out a gasp of awe the very second your face pops onto the hologram.

“What? Is there something on my face?” You move closer towards the camera and inspect your face, only to find no flaws.

“Nothing...it’s just been so long since I’ve seen you like this.”

“Like what?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, the confusion clear on your face.

“All… dolled up.” Peter’s response makes your face blush a hot red. You let out a shy laugh as your hand comes to rest at the back of your neck. He was right, it had been so long since you’ve felt this pretty. It felt good, for once you had felt good.

“Thanks, Pete. It feels good to be in something other than Jedi robes.”

“Not that I’m saying you can’t be dressed up like this, but exactly why are you so dressed up?” He pondered, he knew it wasn’t like the Jedi to go about their duties in exquisite gowns.

“I’m actually on Onderon.” You pan the camera towards the view outside of your window. “The Jedi have invited me to a celebration of Onderon’s liberation. But also in memory of Steela I believe. I really wish you were here with me. I still don’t understand why they couldn’t have sent both of us.”

“I miss you too, but you know I have a duty here on Earth.”

“Duty? So did I Peter!”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. With me being Spiderman-”

“It’s not like they don’t have any other superheroes. I mean come on, admit it! You know more about Star Wars than I possibly could. You should be here with me.” You huff out before changing the subject, “Anyways, how are you? Did you end up fixing things with MJ?”

“I’m fine, but no, we didn’t. We both agreed that we’d be better off as friends. Besides I’ve already moved on.” He confessed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. It’s now or never Peter, you’ve gotta tell her.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your split. But hopefully you and this new person will work out-”

“It’s you.” He says, abruptly cutting you off. Peter watches you tilt your head as your brows scrunch together again.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s you,” He repeats, taking a deep breath before speaking again, “It’s always been you. I didn’t realize it until you had left… I didn’t think I could miss someone so much.”

“Peter…. I don’t know what to say.” You uttered out,

“Please, say something- anything.” He begged, hoping he hadn’t just ruined years of friendship. Peter watches as you open and close your mouth, searching for the right words.

“...I can’t.” You say as you shake your head. “I can’t be with you, Peter.”

“Why? Is it because of my age? Come on, Y/N, I’m only two years younger than you.” He pleads

“It’s not that. You’re just not the right person for me, Peter. I know it in my very soul.”

“Oh yeah? And who is, Anakin?” He taunts, he can feel his eyes water as he watches you look away from him. “No freakin’ way. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Peter lets out a scoff.

“You’ve got to understand Pete, I love him. I really do.”

“NO! You don’t love him. You’re just obsessed with him. You think you can save him but you can’t! No one can! You can’t change his destiny.”

“What do you even know about love? You can’t tell me who I can and can’t love. It doesn’t work like that. You know nothing about it-”

“I LOVE YOU!” He screams, breaking the silence in his Queen’s apartment, surely waking up May. “Why isn’t that enough?” Peter watches as tears slowly stream down your face as he lets out a few of his own.

“I’ve got to see this out until the end, you know that Peter...I could only wish that it was enough, but it’s not. You’re like a brother to me, don’t do this to me. To our friendship...I’ve got to go now.”

“No, you don’t get to leave again-”

“I’m sorry, goodbye, Peter.” You end the call and Peter is left staring at the wall, mouth hung open in shock. He couldn’t believe this just happened to him. He faintly makes out the sound of Aunt May knocking on his door.

Without waiting for a response, she cracks open his door. She takes notice of the tears falling off of his face and closes her mouth. Aunt May is silent as she makes her way across his room, holding her arms out for him. Peter gratuitously accepts her embrace, his sobs muffled by her clothes.

No words are spoken as Peter cries his heart out, never in a million years did he think you’d be the one to break him.

--

collide tags: @deepcollectionmagazine​ @amesstm​ @haileyybird​

[thebadgerclan]

The Dragon and The Fox: Chapter Two

Chapter Summary: The Dragon Queen’s wedding…

@autumnbabylon

A/N: I’m sorry if the formatting is weird on this chapter, my internet went down while I was writing this, so I’m posting from my phone

Nikolai’s breath caught in his throat as the oak doors to the ballroom opened. There she was: his Dragon Queen, his love, his girl, in all her stunning beauty. Her gown shimmered with every step she took, dragon scales rippling in the fabric. Her veil looked like a fine mist, no, like metal floating on air. Sapphires sparkled in Zoya’s hair, which was braided intricately. Nikolai had to resist the urge to run up the aisle to her and embrace her. Genya was beaming with pride, a tear rolling from her eye.

The bouquet Zoya carried was a hodgepodge of different flowers, but Nikolai knew the significance behind them: blue irises for Alina, orange blossoms for Liliyana, heartleaf for Marie, yew for Sergei, red sentinels for Fedor, dahlias for Nina. There were more, many that Nikolai didn’t know for whom they were, but he knew they came from Zoya’s garden. She glided up the aisle to him, smiling, her blue eyes shining. Finally, she was beside him, handing her flowers to Genya, who pressed a kiss to her cheek

“Zoya,” Nikolai whispered, already feeling tears forming. “Saints, you look beautiful. My Zoya, look at you.” Zoya smiled wider, taking her prince’s hands. “Thank you. You clean up rather nicely as well.” Nikolai laughed, wanting to say a million more things: wax poetry of his bride’s beauty, tell her how deeply and unconditionally he loved her, sink to his knees before her and pledge his undying loyalty to the Dragon Queen. But there would be time for that later, and Zoya’s Apparat raised his hands, beginning the ceremony.

“We gather today to bring together two souls,” he said, gesturing to Nikolai and Zoya in turn. “Her Royal Highness, Queen Zoya Nazyalensky, and Nikolai Lanstov. If there are any who object to this union, speak now.” Nikolai waited with baited breath, fearing someone would shout out, but the room remained silent. “Please exchange your vows to one another.” Zoya straightened up. “Nikolai,” she said, voice clear and confident, but also sweet and full of love. “We are soldiers. I will march with you in times of war. I will rest with you in times of peace. I will forever be the weapon in your hand, the fighter at your side, the friend who awaits your return.

“I have seen your face in the making at the heart of the world, sobachka, and there is no one more beloved, brave, and unbreakable.” She squeezed Nikolai’s hand, blinking back tears. He was not a Grisha, but their vows were most fitting for a soldier, a man who had fought alongside his men while still wearing the crown. “Zoya, my love, we are soldiers. I will march with you in times of war. I will rest with you in times of peace. I will forever be the weapon in your hand, the fighter at your side, the friend who awaits your return. I have seen your face in the making at the heart of the world, and there is no one more beloved, brave, and unbreakable.”

Tolya came to his side, and Genya came to Zoya’s, both with a thorn wood crown in their hands. Zoya stooped so Genya could place the crown on her head, but Tolya was tall enough to place Nikolai’s on his head without him bending. The Apparat held his hands out, one over the queen’s head, the other over Nikolai’s. “In the presence of Saints and men, these two have declared their love and trust for one another. May the Saints grant them nothing but joy, love, and prosperity in their lives together. I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Nikolai hardly heard the assembled guests cheering, all of his attention was on Zoya, on his wife. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them, pulling her into his arms. Nikolai dipped her as he kissed her deeply, her thorn wood crown falling to the floor. Zoya clung to her husband as if her life depended on it, returning the kiss with equal amounts of passion and love. When he righted her, Nikolai kept Zoya in his arms, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you,” he said, voice soft. “I love you so much, Zoya. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, sobachka,” she replied, grinning wider than Nikolai had ever seen. “So much.” After a moment, Nikolai released Zoya and offered her his arm. “I believe there are people who wish to congratulate their queen,” he said, and Zoya took his arm. “And their prince consort?” “I suppose.” They walked from the altar, waving and smiling to their guests. A refreshment table had been set up in the back of the ballroom for the guests while the reception was being readied, and several people were already there.

The first ones to offer their congratulations were the Fjerdan prince and his wife. The new princess had nearly flown into Zoya’s arms before remembering herself, dropping into a deep curtsey. “Your Majesty,” she said, voice demure, but face mischievous. “Oh come off it, Nina,” Zoya said, holding her arms out to her friend. Nina embraced Zoya, arms like a vice around her midsection. “Congratulations,” she said, taking Zoya’s hands. “You look stunning.” “She truly does,” said Nikolai, putting an arm around his wife’s shoulder. Zoya blushed, leaning into Nikolai’s side.

The Fjerdan prince came to his wife’s side, kissing her temple. “Your Majesty,” he said in greeting. “My congratulations. May Djel watch over you.” Zoya smirked, taking his offered hand. “Thank you, Your Highness. Are you taking care of our Nina?” His demeanor changed, becoming more relaxed. “I’d do nothing else,” he said, and Nina smiled. “We’ll have to do lunch once I’m queen. Is that something queens do?” Zoya laughed. “If I say they do, then yes.”

The queen spoke to the Fjerdans for a few moments more before moving on, greeting ambassadors and nobility of several nations. “Mister Brekker,” she said as she approached the Crows. “A pleasure.” She nodded to Jesper and Wylan as well, who smiled back at her. “We’re grateful for the invitation. And should the Ravkan crown ever require our services, we would be more than happy to assist.” Zoya smiled. “Thank you. I shall certainly keep that in mind.” Their conversation was short, and when Zoya caught a flash of white in the corner, she led her husband to the apparent peasants.

“Miss Starkov,” she said, catching the girl’s attention. “We’re so happy you both could be here today.” Alina smiled, embracing Zoya, then Nikolai. “It’s Mrs. Oretsev, and we’re happy to be here.” “Ahh, of course.” The banter came easy between the two women, their bond strengthened by their shared experiences. “So what should we call you now? Mrs. Lanstov?” Zoya smirked. “Your Majesty, My Queen, Queen Zoya, Most Exalted One will do just fine.” Alina laughed, leaning on Mal’s shoulder. “Of course, Most Exalted One.” She gave a dramatic bow, and Zoya laughed, as did Nikolai and Mal.

“How’s Sainthood?” Alina rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling. “Have you ever been strolling through town and saw your finger bones for sale?” Zoya shuddered at the thought. “I can’t say I have.” “It’s creepy, let’s just say that.” They chatted for a few minutes, and for a while, Zoya forgot that she was Queen of Ravka, that she had a country to run. For a while, she was just Zoya, and the girl before her was the Sun Summoner.

“You know you’re welcome here any time,” Nikolai said, and Zoya nodded. “If you ever want to come stay or need to get away from the kids, our doors are always open.” Mal nodded his thanks, and Alina smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “Truly, thank you.” “Of course. It’s the least we could do after you, you know, saved the world.” Alina smiled, and Nikolai pressed a kiss to Zoya’s cheek. “Ready to head into the reception?” he asked, and Zoya nodded. “A party that’s all about me? Of course I am.” “Hey,” Nikolai said, feigning offense. “It’s my party too!” Zoya pulled her husband down into a kiss, cupping his cheeks in both hands. “It is, darling, it is.”F

[shimmershae]

My thoughts on Episode 8--For Blood

As always, placed behind a cut for those of you that would rather escape my babbling, lol.  You’re welcome.  

Sadly, I don’t think this is anticipation I feel.  I’m pretty sure it’s dread but okay.  Here we go.  

This episode has to go up from the rock bottom boredom of last week, right?  

Let me preface what I’m about to say with the truth that I in no way hate Maggie.  She’s been with us since Season 2 and I have an emotional attachment to her, mostly due to my love of Glenn and the way he loved her.  She’s not my favorite by any means, but the fact of the matter is, I do like and appreciate her and don’t mind that she is back because it’s nice to have old familiar faces with us to take us into the final season.  That said?  Forcing Maggie front and center after her long absence ultimately, IMHO, has not worked in these first 8 episodes.  I can’t help but feel if ASZ had been the A story with Maggie/Negan and Daryl/Leah/the Reapers the B1 and B2 story?  These episodes would have been better received overall and not feel so much like they’re trying so hard.  Maybe lead me toward the water instead of shoving my head in it next time, Angela?  Hmm?  

Oh goodie.  They’re opening at Meridian.  Should I get my bathroom break out of the way now or give myself an out for later?  Call it Shae’s choice, lol.  

That flicker of a smirk Leah gave to Carver after their mini walk down memory lane had more spark to it than the entirety of her and Daryl’s toxic relationship.  In the future, maybe Angela will lean all in on them instead of Leah and Daryl.  Something tells me Leah knows this “brother” biblically.  

Daryl recognizes Whisperer moves when he sees ‘em.  Somehow, he realizes Maggie and Negan have banded together however reluctantly.  

Pope doing it “Dixon’s” way but not allowing Dixon to do the actual thing shows the level of distrust and paranoia the man still haves for outsiders. 

Look at Daryl chewing his lips with worry for his people.  If he and Leah know each other even a little bit, she has to recognize that as one of his tells.  

Ooohhhh.�� Who took the first stab at Wells?  Maggie?  Negan?  Father G?  I swear.  I took my eyes off the “ball” one second and the whole damn play is halfway down the field.  Sorry.  If you cannot tell, I watched football with the fam yesterday, lol.  

The Walking Dead logo didn’t crumble this time.  Interesting.  Parts of it looked like it had been rebuilt.  With brick.  Wood.  Other parts of it looked reclaimed by nature.  Call me crazy, but that almost looks like an eye/part of a face on the first D.  

Okay then.  Babbling nonsense about the logo over, lol.  Tell me.  Please.  Anybody.  How do the events at ASZ line up with the events at Meridian?  Because it’s night and full-blown storming in ASZ and still daylight at Meridian.  But hey.  Thank fuck we’re in ASZ.  

All the babies huddled together giving me feels.  Sorry.  I know some feel they have no place on the show, but I personally enjoy their inclusion from time to time.  It usually plucks hard at my heartstrings.  

Connie tenderly comforting an injured Virgil is sweet, not gonna lie.  

Aww.  Is that Hershel petting a scared RJ’s hair?  Unless it’s a case of me not being able to pick out and place all the little hands, which it most certainly could be, I’m thinking Judith’s got her hand on her knee and that’s Hershel’s hand in RJ’s hair.  Regardless of whose hand is where, it was a sweet little scene.  What can I say?  I’m easy because Baby Glenn and Baby Rick, ya’ll.  

Oh snap.  The windmill’s on fire and pieces of the wall are blowing down main street ASZ like steel tumbleweeds, lol.  

Anybody else having flashbacks to the barn from Season 5?  Good times.  We still had most of Team Family with us then.  They were in a bad place, hurting and lost and just trying to survive--when are they not just trying to survive?--but they were together.  I miss them.  

Carol and Lydia holding each other.  These two, lovelies, have my whole heart.  

Wells is Walker Jerky, Shaw.  Stop wasting your breath.  

“She did.  My enemy.”  I mean, are we supposed to get the impression Maggie’s been a formidable adversary to Pope?  Because she feels more like a roach that simply knows the best rocks to hide under.  Granted, roaches are hard to kill but still.  I’m gonna need them to give us something better than Maggie being Pope’s enemy simply because she didn’t want to give up her home without a fight because this is frankly unbelievable and bordering on stupid.  

Alright.  So they’ve obviously been sowing the seeds of distrust and defiance between Leah and Pope because she doesn’t like losing family but Daryl?  Man?  You and Leah have differing opinions about how family operates.  Trust me on this.  

So.  Three teams, huh?  Aaron fighting the windmill fire, Carol repairing the breach in the wall, Rosita protecting the babies that represent their future.  Choose your fighters, lol.  Seriously, though.  Why do I have the sinking feeling only one group is going to be shown actually doing their thing?  

Listen.  Am I pissed we haven’t gotten the scene we deserve yet between Carol and Connie after all that’s happened and we’re getting crumbs mainly because Angela wrongly feels the Reapers/Maggie & Negan/Daryl & Leah need more focus?  Absolutely.  You bet your sweet asses.  But Melissa fucking McBride just took the crumbs allotted her and made a magnificent, work of art cake out of it trying all on her lonesome to feed us starving Carol fans.  

Bless Connie wanting wanting to go with Carol.  What a show of trust and sister-like solidarity that must have some hate-rotted guts about to turn themselves out.  

I love Kelly and Connie’s sister bond.  No ill will intended, but It takes the good parts of Maggie and Beth and elevates it beyond anything those two ever showed us.  I really feel like that’s a testament to Angel and Lauren’s real life ease with each other.  

Magna choosing to go with Aaron makes me wonder if it’s possible she feels some kind of residual guilt over Connie.  Not guilt for anything she’s actually done, but simply guilt over making it out.  

Virgil volunteering to help.  Okay.  Damn.  I’m honestly starting to like the guy.  

Judith offering to go with her aunt Carol had me all up in my feels.  I mean, granted.  It was a blink and you miss it scene.  We really deserved a longer heart to heart between that little girl and the woman that’s sacrificed so much to keep her safe and loved her for so long, but you know I’ll gobble any and all Judith/Aunt Carol content up.  Seems to me, Little Ass Kicker is just as afraid of letting Aunt Carol out of her sight as Uncle Daryl.  My heart.  

Gracie and Aaron are sweet.  And honestly?  I find them more realistic and true to what normal parents and children would be like in a ZA than Judith and Michonne no matter how much I love that bond.  I mean no disrespect, but I really do.  

“Why am I keeping you around?”  Pope asking the question we’re all wondering.  

Not Apocalypse Popeye comparing Daryl to a stray dog.  Joe from the Claimers already declared Daryl an outside cat that thought he was an indoor cat.  I did have to internally cheer when Daryl was like “I’m ain’t gonna lick it” talking about the helping hand Pope had extended him.  

“Somehow she has turned the dead against the living.  Oh, that’s impressive.”  The thing about Pope respecting Maggie so much as an enemy is I just find it hard to buy, lol.  Like if this had been Carol, yeah.  But Maggie?  Nope.  They’ve mostly shown her (with Gage being the bewildering exception) to be all bark and no bite.  

Has the house in ASZ really become that dilapidated that they can see through its walls?  Because its original owners dodged a bullet if so.  

Look at Grace hero-worshipping Judith.  It’s sweet.  

Virgil telling Judith Michonne would be proud of her is nice but doesn’t feel as earned as if someone like Daryl or Carol that actually knew Michonne well said it.  But maybe that’s the whole point--Judith needs to hear it from someone she knows isn’t going to just say what she wants to hear.  

Call me jaded, it was a touching scene, but also?  It felt designed to allow Judith to move beyond her very normal and realistic feelings of being abandoned by Michonne, even though she gave her the “okay” herself.  Like she’s still a kid.  Wants don’t always line up with feelings.  Anyway.  Cailey continues to be a bright, shining little star and I love how she’s managed to make Judith a true amalgamation of all the people she’s loved who have loved her in return.  Not just Michonne.  I know people like to overlook and cheapen the fact, but it’s taken a village and entire family to raise her from infancy.  

Gracie really should have known better than play in front of the windows during a storm period, but oh well.  Plot point, lol.  

Seriously, though.  I feel like they’ve teased poor Gracie’s demise in a multitude of ways since the beginning of the season.  I hope nothing ultimately comes of it but I fear it will.  All I can say if the worst comes to happen is poor Aaron.  

Where are Negan and Elijah though?  Ouch.  There they are, taking on shrapnel for the cause.  

Ready the what now?  

There’s ASZ’s Baby Sitter Extraordinaire!  Barbara, is it?  That lady’s been putting in the work since Season 5 at least.  

I’ve honestly grown to love Rosita.  More of her and less of Maggie, please and thank you.  

“Let’s stay away from the windows.”  I’m sorry but I had to LMAO at that.  Still a badass moment though.  

Gabe hobbling toward his assigned sentinel.  At least they haven’t forgotten he’s injured like they seemed to forget Daryl was near death last season before the attack on Hilltop, lol.  

“It’s hard to watch something you care about change.”  Listen, Leah.  Chick.  You and Daryl obviously never really knew each other.  It’s always been obvious but I have a feeling “DIxon” is finally going to show you, spoilers or no spoilers.  

WTF are they calling that thing?  Sorry.  I have just as hard a time understanding Pope’s accent as I do Maggie’s sometimes.  

That’s not love that has Daryl telling Leah she can come with him.  That’s care for somebody he used to know.  There is a distinct difference that’s obviously lost on so many.  How can you really and truly love someone you cannot trust?  Especially in Daryl Dixon’s case?

Why does Angela hate us so much?  Giving us all these Reaper scenes and leaving us to simply imagine Carol and Connie and Kelly working side by side to save the wall?  

I think I honestly could have enjoyed this whole Reaper storyline more, at least a little bit anyway, had they not retrofitted a half-assed romance between Daryl and the story’s weakest link and if only they’d made it the B storyline and given earned deference to the goings-on in ASZ instead.  

I wonder if Glenn taught Maggie how to hot write a car?  I miss my baby Glenn.

Apocalypse Popeye is several fries short of a Happy Meal.  What else is new on this show, lol?  

I care for Maggie.  Mostly for nostalgia’s sake and Glenn and Baby Hershel but damn, man.  She’s not actually proven herself got be worth killing your entire “family” for.  But are too far gone, so.  We’ll make allowances.  

I will say at least this episode is not as abysmally biring as last week’s episode.  

Leah finally giving Pope the throat punch he’s been asking for but I’m not fooled she’s on Daryl’s side here.  She’s always been on her own side.  

Look at Father G returning the favor for Maggie saving him in the tower.  Taking Deaver down!  Poor Deaver barely saw the light of day.  

Here comes that woman scorned part.  I can feel it.  

“Pope is dead.  Dixon murdered him.  He’s with the enemy.”  

Please, Angela.  I’m begging you.  Bring Carol into this story and ramp it the fuck up.  You been idling too damn long and the car is fast running outta gas.  

Bitch really has to die to framing Carol’s Pookie.  

Rosita and Lydia and Carol and Connie and Kelly and Magna have literally been holding up this damn show while Angela farts around with the Reapers bullshit.  Honorable mention goes to Aaron but these lovely, badass ladies been putting in the real work and not getting any of the glory.  You just know they’re tired AF.  

Not my babies Lydia and Judith being the cliffhanger!  Oh and Gracie.  Angela?!  A word.  

Listen.  Carol���s already done that fireworks trick.  That Reaper dude owes her royalties.  Granted, it was on a smaller scale but much more impressive for it because she was left to be the sharpshooter.  

Angela has a point.  It is kind of cool how Team Family have learned from their enemies and assimilated their useful points into their own cache of knowledge.  

I truly feel like the Leah/Reaper storyline would have benefitted from a much stronger actress.  Just saying.  

I know Judith annoys some with her precociousness but Cailey just keeps teeing off on what they give her and personally?  I feel she’s so very talented and light years beyond her little acting counterparts so it still works.  

“They’re never gonna choose each other over the people that they’ve loved and fought for because they simply cannot really trust each other.  There’s sort of, like a toxicity at the base of that relationship.”  Straight from Angela’s mouth.  

“At the end of the day, Daryl chose his family.”  Yeah, he did.  That “I belong with you” shit only happened when he felt they were all gone, including the one he loved above all others--Carol.  Fight me.  

Overall impression of the episode?  

On its own, disregarding how much I can’t help resenting how much time I feel has been “wasted” setting this story up, it was much more entertaining than Episode 7 which was only epic in that it was an epic bore.  There was still too much focus on the Reapers when I just just kept wanting to see what was happening at ASZ.  I mean, they cheated us out of Carol and Connie and Kelly working together. Of Aaron and Magna.  Call it personal preference coloring my opinions if you want, but the characters I care about feel like they’ve been shown the backseat for this self-indulgent exploration of Angela’s OC and her version of self-insert FF with Daryl Dixon.  If we can return to Team Family?  The whole Team Family and not just Maggie and Co. against the world?  You’ve got me.  If not?  Well.  You’ll keep losing me by degrees and you don’t want to do that on the final season.  

Anyway.  The ASZ parts were my favorites per usual.  The episode could have used a lot more of those.  

[bookandcranny]

Entertainer in a Minor Key

Pale light filters in through tears in the canvas. Rows of bleachers and folding chairs stand sentinel over a ring of sawdust, where in the center sits a wooden box with a star painted on the side. A prop chest or maybe a crate of old costumes, forgotten like the rest of it. Whoever left this place in such a state must have been in some hurry, Tanis muses.

Curious, she steps into the ring to investigate. The look of that box brushes against another of those deep-down memories and brings to mind a child’s toy chest. The big padlock is a bit atypical though. Mindlessly she reaches for the multitool in her back pocket and kneels to fiddle with it. As she fits it into the lock, the lid props open an inch and a round, blue eye peers out at her from the shaded darkness.

summary: When you’re traveling across the country on foot in a world overrun with every kind of horror movie monster the mind can imagine on an ill-fated quest to go beat up your former boss, it’s important to maintain a sense of humor, as well as an open mind.

content warnings: descriptions of violence and gore

length: about 9k words

The fairgrounds have been long since abandoned by the time Tanis stumbles upon them. A big top tent sways gently in the wind, its candy-colored stripes looking faded and grim under the shadow of the oncoming storm. A loose bit of canvas flaps against the dark mouth of the entryway in a two-four rhythm. Pap-pap, pap-pap. 

Tanis’ inclination is to duck inside before the lazy drizzle of rain has the chance to start falling in earnest, but first, the test. Rolling up the sleeve of her flannel reveals a list written on her forearm in black marker.

NO:

Abandoned houses

Dark caves

Graveyards

Wax museums

The last bullet point is underlined. Never again.

“Well it doesn’t say anything about old circuses,” she says to herself. “But that’s probably because I’ve never been to one.”

It’s not what she’d call an inviting looking place, but neither does it seem especially dangerous, and the longer she spends deliberating outside the entrance the colder and wetter she’s getting. With no sign of any other half-decent shelter to be found, she steps inside.

There’s something oddly nostalgic about this place, she thinks. Odd because she doesn’t remember ever going to the circus as a kid. Maybe it’s the smell: wood chips and an unidentifiable sugary sweetness that reminds her of playing on the playground behind the school, the ice cream truck that parked there during the summers, popsicles melting onto careless sticky fingers. 

Pale light filters in through tears in the canvas. Rows of bleachers and folding chairs stand sentinel over a ring of sawdust, where in the center sits a wooden box with a star painted on the side. A prop chest or maybe a crate of old costumes, forgotten like the rest of it. Whoever left this place in such a state must have been in some hurry, Tanis muses.

Curious, she steps into the ring to investigate. The look of that box brushes against another of those deep-down memories and brings to mind a child’s toy chest. The big padlock is a bit atypical though. Mindlessly she reaches for the multitool in her back pocket and kneels to fiddle with it. As she fits it into the lock, the lid props open an inch and a round, blue eye peers out at her from the shaded darkness.

“Oh, um. Hello in there.”

“Please let me out,” a voice whispers from inside.

“Aw, ‘course I will. It can’t be too comfortable in there.” After a tense minute of probing with the head of a screwdriver, the lock springs open. “There we go! How’d you even manage to…”

A bone-white hand crams itself through the gap, fingers skittering spider-like over the clasp. The lid creaks open and from within rises a doll, a slender circus clown with long ball-jointed limbs tucked into its chest, unfolding like the petals of a flower. It’s taller than Tanis by a head at least and its painted face looms over her with an open-hinged smile.

“Ah. I see now.”

“Ooh, thank you thank you!” the doll trills in the voice of a bubbly young woman. She raises her legs out of the box with the wobbly grace of a drunken ballerina, head bobbing above a moth-eaten ruffle collar, causing her eyes to roll from side to side in their sockets like pale marbles.

“No need to thank me. I just popped in to catch a show but it looks like I missed my window so I’ll just be on my way.”

She makes to leave the way she came but the doll leaps in front of her with surprising speed. 

“Don’t go yet. Play with me,” she says. “Oh won’t you please play with me?”

Tanis thinks about it, weighing her options. She reaches for the guitar case slung over her back. “Yeah, alright.”

“Really?”

“Sure, it’s been a while since I had a good jam sesh. What do you play?”

The doll freezes, then with the crackling creak of stiff wooden joints it bends its body backwards and begins rifling through the crate. She fishes through frilly costumes, loose kernels of stale popcorn, packing peanuts, and emerges with a bright red toy piano. It makes a bouncy, tinny sound as she strikes the keys.

“Avant-garde. I like it.”

“If you could do me the kindness of turning my key.” She turns around and points at a brass windup key jutting out of a whole in her leotard. 

In for a penny, in for a pound I guess. Tanis gives it a few twists. It clicks, spins, and the doll jerks forward, striking a shrill note. 

“Oh that feels so much better!”

She lays her rosewood fingers across the piano keys and this time a full, rich sound echoes from the little toy. Suddenly a spotlight shines down from somewhere above them, piercing through the shadows. Tanis’ blinks against the glare. She squints up at the rafters but can’t for her life figure out where the light is coming from.

“Nice trick. You’re a performer of many talents, Ms Clown.”

“Silly! My name is Caroline!”

She nods, strumming a few experimental chords. “Tanis. What’re you doing in a gloomy place like this?”

In lieu of a response, Caroline begins to play faster, and as she plays the circus seems to be transported back in time. The ubiquitous signs of wear and age fade before Tanis’ eyes and the empty tent begins to fill up with cheers and laughter and the awed murmurs of a captivated audience. When she tries to look at them, however, like a half-remembered dream the faces of both the patrons and the other entertainers alike are replaced by churning mass of blurry gray features.

“I was the secret show-stopper, the dancing doll! The ringmaster had me made special. But one day, the show was stopped for good, and I was left alone.”

No intonation betrays her thoughts, yet as she speaks the ghosts of the past begin to fade, returning the tent to its dour state.

Not sure what to say, Tanis replies, “That’s a shame. Is that why you were all shut up in that box?”

She takes her hands off the keys, but the music keeps playing. A new vision appears; the hazy forms of strangers, travelers like Tanis whose curiosity or search for shelter drove them to this place before her. They murmur amongst themselves as they peer and point at the oddity in the ring. Caroline reaches for them and they recoil in horror before vanishing like smoke.

“No one wanted to play.”

Tanis shifts uneasily on her feet. This is awkward. “Aw jeez, I’m sorry about all that. But things’ll look up soon, I’m sure.”

No reply. Tanis’ hands still. She doesn’t really feel like playing anymore.

“Anyway, thanks for the song but it sounds like the rain’s letting up so I better be on my way.”

The music cuts out. Suddenly all is silent but for the quiet clicking of the spinning key.

“You don’t want to play anymore?” Caroline asks softly.

She put up her hands. “No offense. I just gotta keep moving. I’ve still got a long way to travel, you see.”

Once again she tries to leave and once again the doll bars her way. Standing up from the piano she twists her dexterous fingers into Tanis’ shirt collar and lifts her off the ground.

“You can’t go,” she implores. “You mustn’t go. It’s so very dangerous out there.”

Tanis struggles in her grip. “Seems pretty bad in here too.”

“Oh but I don’t want to harm you! I only wish to entertain!” 

The spectral spotlights return twice as bright, causing the woman to wince. She kicks at her captor’s wooden limbs. The thing doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Come on now, let’s be reasonable and put-” Thunk. “Me-” Thunk. “Down.”

“You’re quite spirited, Ms Tanis! I’ve so missed having a lively audience.”

She spins her around and pins her up against the bleachers. Sneaking a hand into her back pocket, Tanis pulls out the multitool and jams the knife edge into her side. This at last gets a reaction from her. She makes a small startled noise, closer to offense than pain, and throws the woman to the ground. 

The fall itself isn’t bad, but she doesn’t relish the feeling of her guitar slamming into her torso. Tanis groans and pushes herself up while Caroline continues to fret over the pocket knife lodged in her. She pulls and pulls but it's gotten all twisted up in her frilly costume and every seam she tears with her tugging makes her whimper like a distressed child. 

Taking advantage of the distraction, Tanis picks up her guitar, the closest thing to a weapon she has on hand, and swings it at her head. There’s a satisfying pop as one of her marble eyes shoots out of its socket and rolls under the stands. The doll bends double with a piercing wail. 

“Sorry about this, Caroline. You seemed alright.” 

With that, she reaches over and rips the brass key out of her back. The clown-creature slouches, then falls to her knees. The hole in her back oozes with a trickle of something-- not blood, thankfully. Something darker and more viscous, almost like molasses.

Tanis sighs and plops down on the sawdust floor. She’s relieved to find her guitar not much worse for wear in spite of her rough handling, although she’ll need to replace a snapped string. She lays it gently back into its case and fishes out a marker from her sparse bundle of belongings. 

NO:

Abandoned houses

Dark caves

Graveyards

Wax museums

Circuses

She rolls the dancing doll’s key around in her hand. After a moment’s deliberation, she lifts the oversized toy up over her shoulder and drops her back into her box. She plugs the smooth chunk of brass back into the weeping wound; Caroline shudders but otherwise remains dormant.

“There we go, no harm no foul,” she tells her limp form. “You rest up now.”

Tanis has come across her fair share of monsters already but rarely has one shown so much emotion. Most of the beasties she encounters don’t seem to know more than the bottomless hunger that drives them. She hasn’t had much reason up until now to consider what they might’ve been before, but now that the seed is sewn, she can’t help but feel a bit bad for the poor thing. 

Loneliness is a bitch and to be a performer without any audience is a plight she’s all too familiar with. She remembers the desperation, the despair, the things it could drive a person to do.

With the weight of the case back on her shoulders and the firm earth back beneath her feet, the traveler sets off again.

--

It feels like she’s been trudging through the mud for an age and a half before she reaches the next human township. Her burdens feel twice as heavy today and she’s eager to find someplace to lay them down if only for the night. 

The quaint settlement is surrounded on all sides by a high wooden wall and there’s an exposed duct trailing around the perimeter, the stagnant water turned pink from where the red soil flooded in with the rain. A tired looking soldier waves to her from his perch above the gate.

“Hello down there. What’s your business?”

“I’m just looking for a place to stay the night. If you can point me in the direction of a boarding house or a shelter I’ll be right out of your hair, sir.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I can’t let you in until I know you’re not a monster.”

She scoffs. “You guys get many monsters that look like me?”

“You never know these days. Last month we had some…  troubles.” His expression turns dark. “We’re still recouping from our losses, you understand. Can’t take the risk.”

Tanis shrugs. Fair enough. “My name’s Tanis Lahey and I’m a traveling musician.” She gestures to her guitar. “I ain’t got much in the way of money and even less to barter, but I’m not expecting luxury, just a place to rest my head and maybe a hot meal to keep me going.”

“Where do you come from, Ms Lahey? And where are you going?”

“I come from over west; Ohm Town, Oklahoma. Destination: Bigge City.”

The guard scratches his stubbly chin. “That’s a hell of a trip, especially to make on foot.”

“I had a car but it broke down as I was crossing the state line. A pack of ghouls spiked the highway. I dipped out before things could get messy.”

He nods, only half listening, she suspects. She isn’t expecting sympathy for her tale; it’s hardly one of a kind.

“Any weapons?”

“Nothing but my razor sharp wit, sir.”

He levels her an unimpressed look. “What’s your business in Bigge? Family?”

She shakes her head. “Work, sort of. I’m meeting with my manager to renegotiate a contract.”

“Good on you. Good work’s hard to come by these days.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“You said you’re a musician, right? We haven’t got much for music here. There’s an inn in the center of town that’d probably put you up in exchange for a good show.”

He turns and makes a motion behind him for whoever’s working the crank on the other side and the gate begins to rise. The wooden creaking stirs a feeling of discontent in Tanis, too reminiscent of recent events.

“Thanks for the tip, I’ll be sure to do that.”

Finding the inn isn’t hard, considering it’s one of maybe four buildings that’s more than a pop-up shanty. Settlements like this aren’t so unusual: a group of refugees from an infested district cobbles together some cheap homes, a couple municipal buildings, maybe even a business or two, and most importantly, a hefty monster-proof security system. In a few decades if the place is still standing it becomes a destination for those unlucky few like herself who are caught out traveling the wilds and secures a tidy profit in trade and touristry, if you can call it that.

It’s clear however that this particular patch of civilization has hit some hard times, even by the usual standards. It’s almost startlingly easy for Tanis to strike up a deal with the innkeeper: room and board in exchange for a few hours of music in the pub downstairs, or until the night’s patronage dries up, and she even gets to keep the tips. 

“It’s been a hard winter,” says the manager. “Folks walk around as if in a fog or else mad as hell at every little thing, just looking for a reason to start a fight. Some music might lift their spirits.”

“That’s what I’m here for, ma’am,” says Tanis. “Just give me a few minutes to tune up and get my things in order.”

She guides her to her room and then leaves her be, telling her she’ll try to get the local rumor mill turning, get the word out about her before she takes the floor. Alone now, Tanis sets her things down on the bed and opens the case, falling on her ass for the second time today when out climbs none other than Caroline the dancing doll.

“You-!” She sputters and looks around for something to put between the two of them.

“Surprise!” The one-eyed puppet throws her arms wide, wiggling her hands for emphasis. “Oh wait don’t-”

Tanis lobs her shoe at her. It hits her in the face, but she doesn’t seem bothered, or else it’s simply that she’s not capable of expressing a very wide range of emotion with her painted on expression and nutcracker-like jaw.

“No no no, don’t be afraid,” Caroline insists.

Tanis reaches down to untie her other shoe. “I’m not afraid, I’m pissed. Serves me right for taking pity on you.”

“It was fairly foolish from a strictly objective standpoint, but also very kind.”

Her narrow shoulders tuck in close, creating an almost sheepish effect.

 “Nobody’s ever done a thing like that before. Nobody’s ever taken the time to play a song with me and listen to my story.”

Slowly, Tanis lowers the shoe.

“I don’t mean to harm you or cause you any trouble,” Caroline continues. “It’s only, you’re a terribly strange human, and I wanted oh so much to keep playing with you. I thought to myself, ‘if I can’t keep Ms Tanis from leaving, I’ll simply have to go with her’. So when you weren’t looking I curled myself up all teensy tiny and climbed in with your lovely instrument and away we went! In addition to my myriad musical abilities I also happen to be a fabulous contortionist, you know.”

She demonstrates this by tipping forward and pulling her legs behind her head in a position that would’ve been truly disturbing on a flesh and blood body. 

“No wonder my case felt so heavy,” Tanis grumbles, standing up. “Look, sweetheart, you can’t be here. This is a strictly no-monster zone. We could both get in a huge amount of trouble. Not to mention I’m still not positive you won’t kill me in my sleep.”

“Please don’t leave me! We can play more music together! Or, turn my key and I’ll show you another magic trick! We can play cards or do each other’s makeup. I’ll make you look like a tiger.” She shuffles forward on ball-jointed knees, pleading. “You’re the only one who’s not afraid of me.”

Tanis can’t help but smirk at that. “Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that.”

“Oh I know, it’s because we’re best friends.”

She frowns. “No, no it’s… it’s a long story, hon.”

“I love stories!”

“Not a fun story, Caroline.” She shakes her head, rakes a hand through her short curls, growing longer and messier by the day it seems. “I’m not scared of you because I physically can’t fear any fear. Someone took it from me.”

She cocks her head. “Took… your fear?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that I guess. Sort of hard to explain.”

“Perhaps you should start with ‘once upon a time’. All the best stories start like that.”

Tanis sighs through her nose. “Agree to disagree but I’ll give it a shot. Once upon a time, in the far away land of Oklahoma…”

--

Once upon a time there was a young musician named Tanis. She worked in her parents’ bakery in a town where nothing ever changed, not in summer or winter, not in rain or blizzard or tornado. Even when the monsters came and the natural order of the world was turned on its head, for the most people still went on about their business as usual, just with an added tinge of constant dread, and even that wasn’t off-beat enough to endanger the status quo.

Tanis had big dreams of making it as a rock star and leaving her small world behind, but the people around her didn’t quite see things her way. Eventually she struck out on her own, intent on proving wrong all the naysayers wrong. Unfortunately, talent and raw gusto aren’t enough to make a star, and passion doesn’t pay the bills, as she soon discovered. 

After only just scraping by for more than a year, fameless and friendless, she was about to call it quits and head back home in shame when she was approached by a strange gentleman.

He called himself Mr Slyme, which maybe should have been a red flag on its own. But Tanis didn’t care. She was willing to do anything for success and he was promising her not only a paying gig but, if the show went well, an entire sponsored tour.

The very first time she stepped onto that stage she knew she’d gotten in over her head. In their dealings Mr Slyme had failed to mention that she’d be playing for an audience entirely of monsters. Still, if she shut her eyes while she sang the screeches and howling cries didn’t sound so different from the cheers of an adoring crowd. Skin warm from the limelight and stars in her eyes, she knew she couldn’t go back to the way things were, whatever the risk.

Mr Slyme was very pleased with her performance and had her sign a contract with his company right away. After that it was tours and autographs and show after show after show. Time seemed to blur together in a single crashing wave of euphoric adrenalin. She felt like she could go on like this forever.

Then, that last concert. The one where it all went wrong. A darkened auditorium and the metallic tang of blood in the air. She hadn’t thought to ask questions before stepping on stage, and by then it was too late. The ritual was already underway. 

It felt as though her hands were not her own. A chant bubbled up from her throat in a voice she could barely recognize. The lights were fiery hot yet her blood ran cold when she heard, above the hysterical clamour of the crowd, the word “sacrifice”.

Tanis was never entirely certain how she made it out alive. Maybe someone up there was still looking out for her, despite it all. All she knew was by the time she escaped she was in a bad state, her clothes in shreds, her hair coming out in chunks, her whole body shaking as the blood cooled on her skin, much of it her own. She got in her car and drove, no destination in mind except home. Facing her family might be the worst part of all, but there was nowhere else to go. 

She prayed that it was all over now.

The morning after her final concert Tanis woke up in a motel with a strange feeling of absence, like the tugging in your brain when you can’t remember what you’ve forgotten. She was jolted into awareness by the sound of her phone ringing, and when she answered she was greeted by the sneering, insidious voice of Mr Slyme dripping into her ear.

By refusing to see the performance through, he told her, she’d breached the terms of her contract. As recompense, he had taken something of hers. Something precious. 

Tanis wasn’t one to put her faith in the intangible, the mystical. Or, she hadn’t been back then. Even if she had paid proper attention to what she was signing she probably wouldn’t have given the clause very much thought, perhaps written it off as a joke. As it was, the sudden loss of her mortal soul wasn’t quite what she might’ve expected. No demons appeared in her motel room to drag her down into a fiery pit. To tell the truth, she didn’t feel very different at all. Still, something had changed.

As days went by Tanis began to notice herself becoming more careless. She burned herself cooking simply because it didn’t occur to her to not touch the hot pan with her bare fingers. Where pain used to be a teacher now it only made her indignant. The daily dangers of reckless drivers and unfriendly dogs and strangers coming too close to her as she walked down a darkened street no longer gave her any sense of unease. Several times she had to consciously stop herself from walking into a busy crosswalk simply because she couldn’t remember why the outcome might be undesirable. 

It may have been more tolerable, she thought, if she simply wanted to die. That’s what people tended to assume of her anyway in the wake of this new affliction. But there was no sadness or suffering in her, not even when she remembered the events of the ritual that she’d thought would scar her forever, only a slow creeping apathy which grew stronger every passing moment.

Against the odds, she did come to relearn fear, the basic mechanics of it if not the actual feeling, and stopped regularly endangering herself in such ridiculous ways. Fearlessness, she realized, didn’t have to equal reckless stupidity as long as she remained mindful of it. 

Still, this couldn’t go on forever. Mr Slyme wasn’t taking her calls, naturally, and so she set off for the one place she knew she could find him: the main offices of Slyme House Incorporated. 

--

“So, that’s me,” Tanis finished with a lackluster shrug. “I’ve managed to keep myself in one piece so far but it’s kind of difficult when you have zero sense of self preservation and there are monsters literally everywhere. I’m not sure what’ll happen to me if I die or if I even really care, only I figure if I do kick it I won’t be able to play music anymore.”

She gives her guitar an idle strum as she finishes tuning.

“Music is pretty much the only thing that ever made me really happy. If I couldn’t do that, I don’t know. I can’t feel fear but I can still feel happiness and sadness and all the rest.” She clenches her fist. “Anger too, definitely. I’m angry that I was duped like that, the kind of angry that I don’t think’s gonna let up until I put my fist all the way through Slyme’s ugly face.”

“I’m sure you’ll be quite good at it! You’re very strong.”

Tanis snaps out of her stewing, sparing a guilty glance towards Caroline’s empty left socket and the cracks still faintly visible through the tear in her leotard. 

“Listen, I’m sorry about what happened back there. I’m not really used to meeting monsters that don’t wanna, you know, kill and eat me, and my fight or flight response is pretty much just fight at the moment.”

Caroline laughs, or rather, she vocalizes a robotic sounding “ahaha!” that must be her version of laughter. “I would never eat you. I don’t even have a digestive system!”

Tanis presses her lips together. “Right.”

There’s a knock on the door. 

“Oh shit, right, I’m supposed to play.”

Caroline jumps up. “I want to come too! Please please pretty please!”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” She pauses, considers. “Unless… do you think you can pretend to be, you know, a normal doll for a while?”

“Pretend? I love to play pretend!” She claps her wooden hands together. “Lead the way, Ms Tanis!”

There’s an itching at the back of her brain that tells her this may be a mistake, the ghost of her good sense hanging on by a thread. But without concern for her own wellbeing her sympathy for the dopey doll takes the reins, and together they take the stage. 

It’s a sad crowd, both in terms of size and demeanor. Hopefully, she thinks, they’re deep enough in their cups to not question the windup automaton that stands before them.

“Good evening, folks, my name’s Tanis and this is Caroline the fantastic dancing doll.”

Caroline gives a robotic jerk and bows at the waist. It’s a surprisingly convincing performance, but then, it probably comes naturally to her. A few patrons give an amused chuckle at Caroline’s antics. Tanis takes it as a good sign and begins the first song.

Despite not having the time to rehearse, Caroline manages to play her part well, improvising along to the music the other provides with sweeping, exaggerated movements that hold the crowd’s attention. It’s actually sort of nice, the guitarist thinks, to share the stage with someone else for a change. Even if the “stage” is just the corner of a dingy inn stinking of bathtub booze. 

The atmosphere is infectious and after a few songs the crowd has doubled in number, everyone bobbing their heads or tapping their feet along with the music. It feels good. It feels better than most things have felt in a long time.

Halfway through the night Tanis breathlessly declares that they’ll be taking a break. In her excitement, she’d put some more pepper on those last few numbers than usual. The place is packed now, the staff happily passing around refills and lining their pockets. 

Caroline pretends to wind down to stop while Tanis takes a seat at one of the tables to recover. A server brings her a glass of water and she downs it in seconds. She makes a point of staying in practice while on the road but she’d forgotten how intoxicating it could be to play for a crowd, and one where no one wanted your head on a platter to boot.

While she flexes her fingers and rolls her neck in preparation for the next set, Tanis happens to overhear a conversation taking place amongst a group at the next table over.

“All I’m saying is, we know what it's after. Why are we sitting around when we could set a trap and finish the thing off once in for all?”

“If you’re looking for someone to be the bait, I call not it.”

“I don’t think something like that can be killed. My grandpa always says--”

“Nobody cares what the old man says, Jonah. I’m telling you, if it bleeds, you can kill it. That’s just common sense.”

“Excuse me,” Tanis pipes up. “Am I hearing you right? You folks are monster hunters?”

If she were looking, she would see Caroline’s head roll to the side, her good eye following her warily.

“Something like that,” says the woman at the table with a rumbling laugh in her throat. “I’m Luanne and this is Phil, and the kid is Jonah.”

Jonah, a young man with rusty red hair, grumbles under his breath. Phil gives her the barest nod of acknowledgment before launching back into his argument.

“I can’t get to sleep at night knowing those things are still out there, lurking around, feeding off our scraps all fat and happy.”

“If it keeps them from breaking down the wall and carrying us off instead…”

“What’s the point of the wall if monsters are just gonna get in anyway!”

“Ignore the boys. What’s your interest in monster hunting?” asks Luanne. “You thinking about quitting the music business? Trust me, this job doesn’t have as many perks as you’d think.”

“Nah, that’s not for me,” she says. “I’ve run into monsters aplenty on the road, but never on purpose. I just have a knack for getting into trouble, and I was hoping you could point me in the direction of someplace I could get myself a weapon. After tonight I might actually be able to afford it.”

“Don’t waste your money,” Jonah insists sharply. “Monsters can’t be killed, I’m telling you. You can hurt ‘em, sometimes real bad, but they just come back in a new shape.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means. I’m just saying.”

“What are you saying? You think it’s pointless?”

“No, man, you know I’m not. Just that we need to be looking for long-term solutions instead of just shooting or building walls that’ll fall down in another few years. We’re not cavemen. We ought to be studying monsters, finding out what makes ‘em tick.”

“And where are you gonna find a monster to study?”

The younger stammers at that, coming up empty. Tanis smirks against the lip of her glass. Have you ever tried playing music for them until they follow you home?

Soon her time is up and she takes the stage again. By the end of the night she’s collected a hefty bit of coin and she’s more than ready to retire. A couple of the lingering townsfolk meander over to try and make conversation as she finishes collecting her dues, the trio of ameteur hunters among them.

“Don’t quit this music thing,” Luanne tells her. “If you get yourself killed tracking some beasty the world’s gonna be down a damn good singer. You write those songs yourself?”

“Some of them. Most of them are covers. People don’t usually seem to care one way or the other, and writing’s not really my forte.”

“Don’t say that, kid. You put on a hell of a show. Especially with that whole dancing doll shtick.” She gestures at Caroline who’s playing dead on the floor. “Where’d you find this crazy looking thing?”

“Oh, well, she- it used to be a circus prop. I just kind of found her.” Sticking with half-truths feels like the safest bet. She has no idea how she’d explain her away otherwise.

Phil nudges Caroline with the heel of his boot. “Kind of creepy if you ask me.”

“No one asked you, Phil.”

He grunts and turns away. Caroline pops her head up and makes a face behind his back.

Biting back a laugh, Tanis says, “Sorry to cut this short but I am beat.” 

She hefts the doll up over her shoulder-- she’s not exactly lightweight, but no heavier than the big bags of flour she would drag out of the storeroom for her mom in the mornings.

“Can we count on catching another show tomorrow night?”

“Sorry, I’ve got to be on my way first thing in the morning. I’ve still got a long road ahead of me.”

“That early? You’re sure in a hurry to get out of dodge.”

There’s something strange about the way he says it. Tanis frowns. 

“I just like to get an early start. With that said, goodnight folks.”

She hustles Caroline upstairs and shuts the door tight behind them. The moment she does, the doll springs up, fully animated once more.

“That was great fun!”

Tanis huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

--

Under the golden lamplight Tanis sorts her bounty of bronze and silver coins into neat piles. Tonight was a better night than most; the folks here aren’t exactly wealthy but with so little trade coming and going what coin they have hasn’t been going anywhere except perhaps into the hands of the bartender, who’s probably faring even better than she. 

After a moment’s deliberation she pushes a stack towards Caroline. It’s not quite an equal share but then, she reasons, what’s the doll going to spend it on anyway? Even so, the thought of keeping all the spoils to herself doesn’t sit well when Caroline’s certainly put in as much work.

“For me?” she asks.

“Yup. You did good tonight and no one suspected a thing. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Caroline, if possible, looks even more joyed than is her default state. “I won’t!” 

She then tips back her head and pours her earnings down her throat. Tanis can’t claim to understand the creature, but whatever makes her happy.

“I’m ready to turn in. What do you wanna do about this… whole arrangement here?” she asks, yawning as she nods towards the bed.

“Not to worry! I don’t require sleep, nor desire it. If you need me I shall be in your instrument case.”

Her brow wrinkles with a frown. “You sure? It looks like kind of a squeeze.”

“I’m used to resting in boxes. Frankly I prefer it. I suppose you could say it’s in my nature.”

“Whatever floats your boat.” She sheds her outerwear, stripping down to tank top and boxers. The weather’s due to turn before she makes it to Bigge, she thinks; might be worth it to invest in a real coat, maybe some nice thick socks. “‘Night, Caroline.”

“Goodnight, Ms Tanis!”

She puts out the light and closes her eyes. Sleep comes easy, tired as she is, and as dreamlessly as it has been ever since that fateful final show. Nothing short of a new apocalyptic event could get her up once she begins to drift, which is why she’s unpleasantly surprised to find herself awake not a few hours later. That, and the gun barrel tucked underneath her chin.

“God, this better be good,” she groans as the bliss of well-earned rest leaves her.

In the dark she can’t make out the figures standing around her bed. She reaches for the lamp and the shotgun at her throat cocks a warning.

“If you’re here to rob me, couldn’t it at least wait until morning.”

“We don’t want your money, hellspawn,” a voice rasps.

“Well,” says a second. “I wouldn’t say no to--”

“Shut it!”

Tanis recognizes the voices now. The monster hunters, Phil and Jonah, and she’d bargain that’s Luanne hanging back blocking the door.

“What’d I do to you guys? You didn’t like the music or something?”

“Quiet!” Phil shouts. “I knew there was something off about you the moment I saw you, so I decided to do a little investigating. Why don’t you say it again, how ‘no one suspected a thing’.” He gives her another jab with the cold metal of the barrel. “Who were you talking to, all alone in your room? Ain’t nobody here. What devils do you answer to, you traitoring rat?”

Tanis puts up her hands. “Whoa whoa whoa, I think you’ve got the wrong impression of me.”

“I said quiet!”

“You asked me a question.”

Phil continues, “You’re not a monster, not all the way through anyhow, I can tell. But you’re not all the way human neither. I can see it in your eyes. Empty eyes. And that doll of yours, that’s your familiar, isn’t it?”

“Are you gonna let me answer this time or--”

He smacks her hard across the face. She hisses in pain-- that sensation certainly hasn’t run empty.

“You’re a traitor to your own kind, bringing that darkness in past our walls. But now at least we got that live bait we’ve been missing.”

There’s a sudden sound of movement, a scraping against the bare floor from across the room that makes Tanis’ aggressors freeze. It’s Luanne who breaks the tense silence.

“Uh, fellas? What was that?”

On cue, Caroline rises from her makeshift bed with the gravitas of a movie vampire awakening from its crypt. Tanis should’ve expected she’d be the type to relish in dramatics. She cocks her head, surveying the scene around her, and then without further preamble grabs the closest person-- poor unlucky Jonah-- and thrusts him out of her way as casually as if she were rearranging the furniture, crashing him into Luanne and sending them both into the wall.

“No more songs tonight,” she says cheerfully. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Luanne staggers and pushes the young man off of her, thrusting a large hunting knife in the monster’s direction. “Get back, creep!”

“Silly billy, knives are dangerous. Not to me, of course, but to you.” 

She knocks the blade out of her hand. Jonah drops his own weapon before she has the chance, his hands trembling too hard to keep his grip.

“Hey!” Phil barks. Caroline’s head swivels towards him. “Maybe I can’t hurt you, but I can sure hurt your master here.”

He grabs her chin and presses his thumb to her swollen lip, swiping up a drop of blood. 

“If it bleeds, you can kill it,” he murmurs under his breath like a mantra. 

“Silly,” Caroline repeats, taking a step closer. “That’s not my master, that’s Ms Tanis!”

The hunter’s eyes move frantically back and forth, from the doll to the woman. He affects a false bravado and demands, “Then who- who do you answer to, monster?”

“Oh he’s quite dead,” she replies. “I killed him!”

Before he can react, a hand shoots out and grips the man’s neck. His companions, recovering some nerve, shout and grab at her from either side. Their combined weight unbalances the dainty doll but, with her grip unrelenting, she takes their leader with her. His finger locks on the trigger but the panicked shot goes wide. A chorus of frightened screams sounds from outside-- the manager and another couple guests that had gone to fetch her when they heard the sounds of a fight.

Tanis leaps from her bed to wrestle the larger man off of Caroline. The other two have her arms pinned down and for a moment she goes very still, but as Jonah leans in to investigate, a bizarre whining noise sounds from deep in the doll’s throat and a stream of coins begin to shoot out of her mouth. Jonah screams and falls backward clutching his face, Luanne soon to follow.

“What demon do you serve!” Phil howls. 

Tanis grimaces as spittle flies into her face. “You are really stuck on that, huh?”

She grunts and puts all her strength into shoving the man over, cracking his head against the nightstand. 

“I don’t fucking serve anybody.” She spits. “Asshole.”

When the manager finally gets the door open, the scene is not a charitable one. There’s a man unconscious on the floor with a probable broken nose, his friends scrambling for the door in terror, a bullethole in the ceiling, while the traveler and her seven foot living wind-up toy stand amidst the chaos.

“Okay, I can explain.”

“Is that blood,” the manager deadpans, going pale.

Indeed a sizable puddle has formed around Phil’s head where he lies. Tanis sucks in a breath through her teeth.

“I didn’t mean to hit him that hard,” she mutters under her breath. “I mean, he deserved it, but still.”

She nudges him with her foot and hears a faint, gurgling groan.

“No worries, he’s still alive.”

“I don’t care about that!” hisses the manager. “Shut the window, fool! Monsters can smell fresh blood from miles away!”

Tanis looks to Caroline as if to say, Did you know about this? Caroline shrugs.

“I think that’s just a myth.”

There’s a loud, guttural shriek from somewhere outside the inn, followed by the shuck shuck shuck of claws piercing the walls, coming rapidly closer. A toothsome muzzle crams its way through the window and starts snapping blindly at the air. The onlookers scatter, and even Tanis has the wherewithal to leap back and out of the way of those grasping jaws. It sniffs wolfishly and a long barbed tongue protracts from its maw, flopping onto the floor.

“Geez louise,” Tanis remarks. “Just can’t catch a break tonight. Caroline, can you, I dunno, talk that thing down?”

“I shall try!” 

She walks over to where the creature’s head remains stuck in the window. 

“Pardon me, but you are being very disruptive and I--”

The monster’s tongue lashes out and smacks her in the face. It probes into her exposed socket and, apparently deciding that whatever the doll has in place of blood is good enough, begins straining to pull her into its mouth. Tanis yanks her away just in time.

“Oh dear, that was not very polite.”

“Why’s it wanna hurt you? You’re a monster too!”

“You’re a human, and those other humans were hurting you.”

“Huh. Fair enough.”

The wooden panels around the window begin to strain dangerously as the bloodsucker starts to push through.

“Okay, we gotta go.” She rushes to collect her things and then, with a sigh, grabs onto Phil’s unconscious body to drag him out of the room. “Help me pull.”

Caroline does so, but not before asking, “Are we rescuing this man? Even though he wanted to hurt you and called you nasty names?”

“Yeah,” she huffs. “It kind of sucks, but that’s just what people do.”

Together they drag Phil into the hallway and slam the door behind them, though it’s anyone’s guess how long it’ll hold. Hopefully the pool of blood will keep the creature occupied for a short time while the other guests evacuate. Luckily there are few of them, so a short time is just enough.

Drawn out by the commotion, townspeople begin to pour out of their homes and into the street. In the chaos and confusion, nobody seems to notice the traveler and her doll fleeing the scene. 

Tanis makes a beeline for the gate. “I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I’m ready to get the hell out of dodge.”

“Will they be safe?” asks Caroline.

Tanis stops and stares at her. “What?”

“With that large bitey fellow on the loose? Will the audience be alright?”

It’s hard to divine much emotion from Caroline’s wooden features, but in this moment Tanis can tell she’s being sincere. 

“Why do you care about something like that?”

“It’s a good entertainer’s responsibility to make sure the audience is happy.” 

She points at the crowd that’s forming in the town square: a handful of soldiers-- if they can even be called as much-- with their meager armory of shotguns and spears and some assorted farm tools, and the huddled mass of paralyzed civilians trying to think of where to run to. Many are still recovering from the last attack of this kind. They don’t have the means to defend themselves the way they need, nor to flee the way they should, and the resident monster hunters are either unconscious or god-knows-where.

“They don’t look very happy.”

“What am I supposed to do about that? No, really, Caroline. If you’ve got an idea, I’m all ears. Just because I’m fearless doesn’t mean I’m suicidal.”

The doll seems to think on this for a moment before she simply says, “Turn my key.”

Tanis gives her a dubious look. “The key that makes you act like even more of an evil Looney Toon? The last time I did that you kinda tried to kill me.”

“I did not! I wanted to keep you from the danger.” She actually sounds offended at the accusation. “I wanted to keep you safe in my circus forever. I couldn’t understand why you would want to go out into the big scary world, where people are unkind and ever so unhappy.”

She doesn’t frown necessarily, but she hangs her head, one lonesome blue eye staring into her own. 

“But when you sing, you make people happy. When you make them happy, you are happy too. I do not think you want to run away.”

Tanis watches Caroline. She listens to her speak. She groans, frustrated to realize that, against all odds, the big goofy clown doll is right. “Turn around.”

Caroline claps her hands with glee as Tanis grips her key, still faintly tacky to the touch. She turns it once, twice, thrice, until she can’t turn it anymore. The doll spins around with a revitalized sort of glow and begins bounding towards the beast as it bursts through the wall of the building. 

What else is there for Tanis to do? She follows after her. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, this is the greatest show on what’s left of earth!”

A spotlight shines from nowhere, brilliantly illuminating the daring dancer. As the soldiers’ weapons glance ineffectually off the bloodsucker’s hide, Caroline overtakes them and kicks it square across the face, causing the beast to stagger a few steps backwards. 

At her command, a swarm of chattering windup dolls appear out of the night. Spectral and red-eyed, they pile their porcelain bodies on top of the ravenous creature. When crushing one knee-high nuisance doesn’t yield any blood or ichor, it hisses its displeasure and tosses the rest off. It stomps and snaps them until they return to nothingness, but the attack disorients it, enough for Caroline to gain the definitive upperhand. 

She seizes it by the scruff, wrenches its mouth open, and rips out its long propping tongue. The beast howls in ear-splitting pain, more of that syrupy dark substance dripping from its fanged mouth. Caroline pulls the tongue taught in her hands and cracks it against the creature’s forepaw like a whip. She faces the townsfolk.

“And now, a spectacle unlike you’ve ever seen! The dancing doll tames the ferocious beast!”

She evades another snap of its jaws and climbs atop its back, straddling it and wrapping its own tongue around its meaty neck. The monster begins to rear back, swiping at the doll with its claws. Those grasping paws, clever enough to scale walls, find purchase on her leg.

“Uh oh!” the doll remarks.

It flings her to the ground.

“Caroline!” Tanis yells. “Just kill it already!”

“Oh but where’s the fun in that?” 

Nevertheless, she pulls back her free leg and jabs her heel into one beady black eye with a gruesome squelching noise.

“Now, for my final trick, I’ll make this rude fellow disappear!”

The mystical spotlight goes out, in fact every light in town goes out, and from somewhere Tanis can hear the sound of a drumroll. When the lights return, the monster has indeed vanished, replaced by a pile of ichorous innards which have been strewn about the town square. A few members of the “audience” begin to retch.

“Ta-da!”

It’s probably not the reception she was hoping for, but there’s one person in the crowd clapping. The fantastic dancing doll takes a sweeping bow, more gore sloughing off and onto the cobblestone below.

--

“So that’s a town we can never go back to.”

Caroline pouts, as much as she can. “I thought it was a lovely show.”

Tanis shrugs. “You can’t please everybody.”

She’s back on the road, strumming a few notes on her guitar as she walks along. She’d offered to hold onto it so Caroline could have some more wiggle room as she rode along on her back. The extra baggage wasn’t exactly ideal, but despite single-handedly taking down a monster twice her size, traversing wide open spaces still made the doll nervous after so long spent confined to one place. It was the least she could do for her, she figured.

Besides being a real powerhouse when it comes to fighting humans and other monsters alike, Caroline had become an invaluable addition to Tanis’ little traveling act. She made more than twice the tips as she usually did when Caroline was dancing along to her songs. Everyone was always so perplexed: how did she make that doll move like that? It was almost like she was alive!

Yeah, almost. She snickers to herself. 

“Are you thinking of a joke? May I hear it?”

“Nah, just getting lost in my own head again,” she says. 

Privately, there’s another reason she’s glad to have kept Caroline by her side. It’s strange, she thinks, to have found a companion in a creature like her. A friend, even.

“Where will we be touring next, Ms Tanis?”

“For now we just keep heading east.” She glances back at the doll. Her head is poking out of the case, watching her again. It’s probably a good thing she’s physically incapable of finding that as creepy as it undoubtedly is. Instead, she just shoots her a sideways grin and says, “You know, you don’t have to keep calling me ‘miss’. Just Tanis is fine.”

“Okay, Ms Just Tanis!”

“Oh so she’s got jokes.”

“I know lots of jokes. What’s big and grey with lots of great big horns?”

“I don’t know but I hope it’s not following us.”

“An elephant marching band!”

God, that was terrible. “Ha. Good one, Caroline.”

“I know more!”

“Why don’t you hold onto those for now. Wouldn’t want to waste ‘em all on me before you’ve got a proper audience.”

“I will, but not because it would be a waste. Even if I was to never have another show, I should enjoy telling them to you very much.”

It’s quiet for a while after that, and Tanis, more than used to the solitude, has almost forgotten about her passenger until she pipes up once more.

“Ms- Pardon me, Tanis. What’s that tune you’re playing?”

Without hardly noticing Tanis’ hands have been feeling out the shape of a familiar melody, a slow and sentimental thing.

“Ah, it’s just this old country song I used to practice with a lot when I was still just learning. It’s funny, I can’t actually remember the last time I played it. I wanted to be a rockstar for so long, you know. But then once I was on my own again, after everything, it’s these sort of songs I ended up coming back to.”

She expects Caroline to request something more cheery, but she merely settles her head against her shoulder and lapses back into silence. For the first time since that night Tanis finds herself thinking of what the peculiar doll had told her. She had said that her singing made people happy. What did that mean for someone like her who was always happy anyway? Or seemed to be, that is.

Does my singing make you happy, Caroline? Is that the real reason you started following me? 

Softly, uncertain as the kid at her first audition she could barely remember being, Tanis lets her voice rise.

“This world is not my home

I'm just passing through

My treasures are laid up

Somewhere beyond the blue…”

[heleizition]

I am just now finding out about your chosen one au and must know more

ok so i decided to copy paste everything i wrote to my friends when talking about it so its gonna be long Oups ... but it's the most complete ill ever be about it !

so this is set in a universe where gods, old and new are very present and usually they have humans serving them, regularly called chosen ones, every century or so. it's considered an honor and every sanctuary and gods have different missions for their chosen ones and it can go from taking care of the temple every week while being allowed to have their own life to go on a mission to erradicate evil. humans usually know that they are destined to be taken in by gods because of marks on their body, specific to the god(s) they'll serve. the mark starts to glow and guide them to where their god is waiting for them once the god decides they want them.

the story is set on an island stuck between two different temples. on the island stands gotham which is a strangely sunny city,  and then you have the deep sea in the bay, and the deep forest north of gotham. if gotham is mysteriously devoid of bad things, its because it's been giving every century a child to the old gods temple in the deep forest. and time is coming, soon, another one will go.

so here you have the wayne family, they mostly have the same backgrounds ? kind of ? cass's parents were mercenaries that went into the deep forest, where no one (haha) in gotham dares going due to fear of breaking the old gods protections, never came back, and left cass on her own in town. bruce adopted her. dick's parents were travelers on a ship that sailed not far from the island and while they did not survive, the gods in the deep see allowed dick to stay alive until he reached the coast. immm not quite sure of what happened to jason's parents yet but uh he's here and alive woo

damian is a bit of a mystery to most people. he was delivered to bruce's doorstep when he was only a few days old. what they dont know is that nine months earlier bruce went into the deep forest himself. 

so added to that is timothy drake. young boy of the drake family, the two parents who dont seem to care for him much. the boy is quiet but full of smiles and affection to give and when jason and cass drag him to the wayne estate after a day out, bruce opens his arms to him. he's a regular at the wayne house and a few days after he turns 11, he stops showing up. bruce's kids cant find him. the drakes dont seem disturbed by their missing son. and bruce knows the drakes by now, know they wouldnt give their affection to someone they knew would disappear, and bruce realises tim is gone, to the old gods in the deep forest. 

so tim, 11, wakes up sweating and his room lit up with a green light that he's never seen before but in dreams and he knows that it's time. he knows that this strange mark spreading across his back, shaped like a dragon, is glowing green. he's being called.

he moves by himself, not thinking, opens the door to his room and the one that leads outside and it's so fitting when he notices that his parents arent even home, that he'd leave without them caring. soon he's reaching the deep forest and for the first time in his life, when looking at the dark depth, he's not scared, and he walks on. 

tim walks and walks and there are eyes looking at him bu the soft green glow reassures him, and he knows where he should walk, and soon he's reaching a temple, strong stone and green plants and a setting sun carved on its floor, and there is a man - a god ? - walking out. and his eyes are glowing green like the mark he knows is glowing in his back, but it feels wrong, and when tim looks around again everything looks so much hostile, 

tim made researches on the deep forest temple, since he knew it was gonna be his future, and he knew that temple was supposed to host old gods who were dying, so why does it feel so wrong ?

tim approaches, despite himself, and waits for the man - god??? - to say anything. there is a hand, wrinkly and uncomfortable and cold, on his cheek, and tim looks up, and he's shivering when the god - he knows hes a god. he knows he is now. - speaks up.

"i am ra's al ghul. you were given to me to serve me. you will obey me in any way i see fit, and you are to never return to your human town." 

tim did make researches before he was taken. he knew that usually the child taken by the deep forest gods could travel to town without punishment. he knew that, with pattern, they were taken early, before they turned fifteen. he knew that he would most likely be lucky, have a mostly free life. he didnt know that a new god in quest of power had taken over, chained some of the old gods inhabiting the temple, killed others, simply for power and magic. he didnt know that he would be chained to a scary and cold temple, with a terrifying and powerful god that could turn him to dust on a whim. 

so thats basically,,, the intro ? the first part ?

so a few months after tim disappeared, it was jasons turn. 

jason, much like tim, had marks on his wrists and arms, long lines following his limbs. they're signs of being of the all caste temple, chosen one for those gods. for the ones in the deep sea. now these humans linked to temple in the sea are a bit different than the kind that tim was supposed to be. the all castes purpose is protection, and while there always is a human chosen for them, they're not always called for their purpose, in fact, no all caste chosen one had been guided to the temple in the deep see in generations.

however, one day, jason woke up, glowing white lines on his arms, told dick that he had to go to the sea, and disappeared for months.

jason doesn't remember going into the sea when he wakes up in the temple, doesnt know how he survived the journey there, but he's there, by the will of the gods, and he's informed of his purpose.

something hover over the island. something bad. it's already there, its root in the islands ground, and it must be killed. that will be jason's purpose. he doesnt know where. he doesnt know when. he knows it will happen.

so they train him. they give him the weapons and magic he will need to defeat the enemy. they want to protect the island and its inhabitant.

several months later, jason leaves again, with new knowledge and strength, and washes up on the beach, and dick finds him, unconscious. he brings him back to the wayne estate, where he tells his tale of sea gods and protection and prophecy where he is the hero.

years pass. its been about nine years since tim disappeared, since jason went to the sea temple for the first time. damian is 16 and damian wants answers from his father. he knows he's from the deep forest. he knows his mother is there. he wants to meet her, he wants to know her. but bruce never talks about her, never says anything about their meeting, like he was commanded not to, and damian decides to go against all beliefs he has grown with and he prepares. he will get in the forest. he will find his mother.

except jason know his little brother and he knows and sees him planning and on the night he leaves, jason is here, not stopping him, but ready to follow him into the forest. he has a feeling. something is there for him too .

so they travel in the forest, they're not really sure how to find damian's mother with how little bruce ever said about her, and they find creatures along the way, some of them recognize damian as one of their kin, which is how they realise damian's mother is either part god or part spirit, and jason as a god's messenger. they do not guide them, but they do not attack them. 

until they walk into a territory they feel they shouldnt have walked into

a small being with wings and claws attacks, telling them to not trespass, it's smaller than jason had been at 14, but it's furious and cold and it strikes right. and when jason finally looks up he's terrified to see that he recognizes the child in front of him. and its wrong, because tim should have been nineteen by now, but he doesnt look older than 15. 

finally the fight draws to a close when jason calls out for tim, a name he musnt have heard a lot, or not recently, not with care and not without an order behind it. tim stops. tim looks. he recognizes the boys in front of them, even if its been nearly ten years. after all they were two of the last humans he ever saw.

"you cant be here. you cant be here if he knows he will kill you and i cant let you die. please you need to go"

im not quite sur how they get tim to follow, or if they get in ra's territory, but they camp in a safe zone with tim, and tim tells them his story

[torture mention, non consensual body modification]

after ra's took him, he tortured him, he experimented on him. after all he was his first ever human tribute, to obey and be controlled at will, a toy for an immortal, and after many games of the new god, he settled on making tim a sentinel for his property, one that will age slowly and wont feel pain, a puppet with no strings but one that is scared of ra's power, enough that it will obey. jason and damian are Angry. something at the back of jason's head tells him that this ra's might have something to do with his own prophecy. 

so after that its more blurry but tim reacts strangely to damian, he's a bit scared of him and he figures out it's bc of his heritage, that he has links to ra's, and he leads them to talia who's half god half spirit and hidden deeper and deeper in the forest, away from her father, and it makes tim leave the territory he's supposed to guard, disobey ras, which makes ra's angy bc tim never disobey, not since the first few times when he was 12/13 and thought he would still get out,,,

so there is a bit of a final showdown w tim talia jason and damian facing ra's, ra's using his hold on tim to hurt him, and talia torn between her father and her son + tim who she's seen grow up from far away and who she feels she should have protected from ra's,, jason eventually has a one on one with ra's and the prophecy does happen and he kills ra's and angry old gods who were chained in the temple wake up and banish ra's soul from this realm.

they heal tim from whatever ra's did to him, with the promise that he will travel to care for the god's temple again, as his duty was supposed to be 

they all get back to gotham, tim still looks 15 but will grow to his real age within a few months, he has many scars and the mark on his back changed for a setting sun like what was carved on the temple's entrance, damian has his Mom, and jason is free from his all caste duty.

the end woooo this is over 2k long rip !! feel free to ask if u got more questions :0 !!

[hippychick006]

Misha Panel 

I’ve done this summary as it helps to have what Misha actually says to hand as more often than not, his stans misquote him. It’s also useful as Misha often changes things - as he appears to have done between his last virtual panel and this one. Note, I’m only focusing on the key parts where he talks about the show/Jared/Jensen.  It is not free of anti castiel/misha comments where I disagree, though those are few and far between for a change. It’s long so putting under a cut... 

- Misha confirms his filming finished in March prior to Covid [this comes up later in more detail].  Watching the last epiosode was an emotional experience for him.  For him, it represents the end of a chapter of his life. 

- Misha says fandoms not going anywhere [*hisses]

- Misha’s future work/projects?: working on senate race in georgia, publishing a book of poetry, couple of film projects he’s trying to get off the ground, one he’s not acting/directing in, the other he may act and/or direct 

- Jack brought Cass back but we didn’t get to see it, what happened?: different ending originally that Covid restrictions made impossible to produce. Cool ending involved bringing back lots of cast members over the years.  In the original ending, Castiel hadn’t gone to rebuild heaven, there was a different conclusion for him.  Misha purposely did not read the last two episodes before they aired as he wanted to be an audience member. He knew a little about Castiel/Jack’s fate in the abstract, but because he wasn’t in it, he doesn’t know what the answer was. He thinks them rebuilding heaven was less boots on the ground and more at a spiritual level [so he’s talking at the metaphysical/spiritual plane level and not corporeal) so they are everywhere (e.g. in drops of rain as per Jack’s speech to Sam in 19). That’s what I’m understanding at least.  He says that’s pure speculation though.]

- what qualities does castiel have similar to Misha?: there are a lot of similar qualities [backstabber comes immediately to my mind tbh]. Over time he and the character melded. Over time he evolved into something that didn’t quite fit in with either angels or humanity, he felt like an outsider which Misha has felt for much of his life. He became softer, more sensitive, he tried to do the right thing and be a good person. Oh wow, he says that in order to write to play to Misha’s strengths, the character had to “morph a bit”.  I loved bad!ass Castiel, he’s my favourite Castiel!

- What one thing will he take with him from playing Castiel?: on a professional level, it was fascinating to play a character for so many years. He discussed with J2 recently that the characters really became part of them. He doesn’t think that will happen again, just due to length of time the played them. On watching Jensen’s death scene, he cried but it was more “That’s Cass’ friend Dean dying”  It was weird to have a blurring of lines between yourself and your character but he thinks that’s what happened with all of them. He’ll take the character away, which will be a part of him forever. 

- Misha made fortune cookes and put inside lewd and inappropriate fortunes

[I don’t get this next bit as earlier in the panel he says he didn’t read the last two episodes so didn’t know what was going to happen and gave the answer I documented above and now we have this next question where his answer seems to contradict that]:

- Is there anything more he can say about the originally planned finale?:  He doesn’t want to be the one to reveal these state secrets, but what are they going to do, fire him?  He feels someone might have said to him, please don’t reveal what was going to happen, but can’t remember for sure if it’s true. He says there was a version of Sam and Dean’s heaven that was populated with all of the people that were from their past that they have come to love.  They could not do that because of Covid restrictions. 

- Favourite behind the scenes memory of “The boys”: He doesn’t have a favourite memory, they were close friends for 12 years. They had laughing fits and fights and got pissed off at each other. Some of his fondest memories of being at work anywhere were working on Supernatural.  He’s never going to be on a set again where there is so much mirth so he’s going to miss that for sure.

- he’s talking about Castiel’s wardrobe which is actually funny - e.g. original suit 3 sizes to big, sometimes showing blood and holes, sometimes being magically fixed, not wearing a tie, going back to wearing a tie... “Nobody complained about that too much...” [uh because some of us were watching other things and your own stans were looking at the background.]  He stole some trenchcoats and has them in his closet.

- How do you prepare for emotional scenes?: it’s hard for him to get into that emotional state. To prepare for the Castiel’s declaration of love scene and taken by the empty, Misha needs to be off by himself and not chatting with people, so for that scene he sat on his own in a dark corner of the stage and ruminated on his own.  Rob Hayter, stunt coordinator, noticed and stood sentinel and made sure no one disturbed him which Misha said was really sweet.  Everyone stopped fucking around for that scene to allow them to do what they needed to do.

-  How did you feel when you read the script when Castiel dies?: Misha knew for a long time that ending was coming, he’d been speaking to Rob Berens about it, he was really happy with it.  It was the ending he’d wanted for Cass so when he read the script, he was really happy it had made it to the page [i bet it was Misha, how are those destiel sales going through your Stands company?]. It felt it was a little “risky and a little brave” for the show to do [on a fucking network that is number one in Glaad reviews?  Are you being fucking serious right now?] He was happy to be a part of that [again sales] and have that character express love like that so he was happy with it. 

[Okay, so notice in his last virtual panel 2 weeks ago, he was very happy, he’s now starting to do exactly what he did with Karla movie as he goes on to say...]

He’s seen “some people” [you mean lgbtq+ people?!]  “complaining” about this is playing into the “bury the gays” trope which is an insidious and real trope in film and television storytelling in h/w over the years. Misha doesn’t think that’s what was happening with Castiel’s [he died second after the confession MIsha!] First of all Castiel isn’t dead, he’s in heaven working to rebuild it... [you didn’t know this 2 weeks ago, as far as you knew Castiel died and went to the empty].  So much good came from that declaration, because Cass was able to save Dean, which was essential to saving the world, so this declaration wasn’t so then fate strikes you down and you’re done forever. The declaration literally ended up saving the world. It was of Cass’ own volition, he wasn’t forced to do it, it was his choice, and he thinks that’s important, so maybe he’s naieve and doesn’t feel they are playing into that trope. 

[You were absolutely playing into that trope Misha and you didn’t give a shit as you did no research on playing an lgbtq+ character so sincerely fuck off]

He’s glad that Castiel got to express that and have that ending. He thinks thats kind of important and he’s proud the show did that. [again fuck off, this was done for you and it showed]  He thinks its a conversation they will continue to have as they continue to dissect it going forward [nope, consigned to the dumpster fire I’ve put the majority of the rest of Drabbernatural in]

- Do you think you will ever get an SPN tattoo?:  He doesn’t have any but he’s thinking about getting tattoos relating to his children.  Is that a sign of desperation that a true hasbeen will do? Should he get a tattoo of Jared and Jensen’s face.  He could get a tattoo of Castiel’s face on his abdomen.  He’s saying probably not. If they want to get one, totally supportive of that

-  what is his favourite moment of the finale?: Dean’s death scene, masterfully executed, excellent performances from both Jared and Jensen in that scene and made him cry

- best memory of your last day on the supernatural set?: everyone being really sweet, lot of tears from cast and crew. The last scene he shot as Castiel was the last scene of the day on a Friday. Him, Alex, Richard S and Jensen all had to get to Las Vegas for a fan convention the next morning. They shot late and finished at 1.30, it was Cass goodbye and Misha’s goodbye to the show.  He said they had to get a chartered flight because of the early flight [not sure why he’s saying this as I thought it was Jared’s plane they all travelled in?] He’s talking about going back - because of the issue with the plane - and they are all texting family, saying they love them, so it was such a strange night, he’d said goodbye to Supernatural, he said goodbye to Castiel and later on said goodbye to his kids because they thought they were going to die that night. :(

[Going to add that this puts to rest that Misha was due back for 19 and 20 even before covid, it confirms he was not going to be in either episode, though I maintain, they may have shot an extra scene while they had him to slot into 19 or 20]

- do you think Cass and the other angels got their wings back?: Yes, probably, they have Jack who is the new god. What a long and miserable experience that was of not having wings. Cass was so powerful when he started, he could snap his fingers and teleport and time travel and lost that with his broken wings and they didn’t come back. He doesn’t know why they didn’t fix him as Castiel would have been a much more powerful ally if he didn’t have to drive around in the pimp mobile [uh, for the same reason Sam lost his powers, deus ex machina]. He tells the story of Jared pressing buttons in the car causing the hydraulics to fail costing $10000 of repair.

- in your opinion, what colour are Castiels wings?: shit, I don’t know, I always thought they were black, but now that you’ve said that, they are rainbow coloured, how about that?

- What is the worst joke Jared and Jensen did to you?: [*cough fans looking for things to complain about or hate Jared on]: Jared and Jensen, as you know, they are not good people.  He talks about directing an episode and they got excited in the week before, they were going to break into his apartment and steal his furniture, they had all kinds of nefarious plans, the crew tipped him off and told him to watch his home and car keys. They put a fish under the seat in his car and one of the crew told him.  Jared removed the canvas on the director’s chair and laid it across so it looked like it was still the chair. Misha fell for that at least 5 times. That was pretty frustrating. Jared kept messing up his lines (which Misha said Jared never does) and Misha was directing in another room, Misha eventually went to see what the problem was and that’s when Jared pied him in the face. Everyone in the crew was complicit in the “assault”. Jensen brought him another shirt, said, “I’m sorry man, that’s sucks, that was too much.”  Jensen then pied him in the face.

- What is the real story behind the handprint in the finale?: Um I don't know, but I think it was a nice touch, that was a really lovely callback that worked well. I can’t remember how we came up with that, or was it in the script, I can’t remember. Wasn’t it a good callback to the very beginning. [Again, this appears to differ from what was being reported two weeks ago so might need to go back to that panel if I can get access to it]

-What’s your favourite memory from offline/online panels?: It’s much more fun to be live and in person. I don’t know, I have had some really fun... [PANDERING ALERT COMING UP] Jensen and I have some really fun panels together in Rome.  I don’t know why but we always just seem to have a real hoot there, talks about the resume off, they really enjoyed that. He had pizza delivered to a creation panel once.  He talks about the Saturday night special and he can’t wait till they can get back to that. 

[NOTE CYNICAL PART OF THIS IS FOR HIS FANBASE TO ONCE AGAIN CLAMOUR FOR MORE JENMISH PANELS. I DO NOT TRUST THIS MAN AT ALL]

- What was your favourite version of Castiel to play?: he had the most fun playing Lucifer because Mark P had left a great template to play Lucifer [you took the worst parts imo but Mark fucked his character up too]. He enjoyed playing the human parts of Castiel because it was fun to explore how to be human for the first time. Overall, just regular Cass. He wouldn’t have wanted to trade regular Castiel for other iterations. [A great question would be badass Castiel v late season wooby castiel preference]

[infinite-xerath]

Runeterra Retcons: Ruination Episode (Prologue)

Prologue Part I

You stand before the remnants of the Sentinel base, taking in the sight before you. Looking past the crumbling architecture and growing moss, you can see the echoes of dignity that this place once possessed. Now, however, it stands empty and silent, devoid of life save for the insects, birds and slugs. You call out, but no one responds. Finally, it becomes obvious that any chance of joining the Sentinels of Light here is long gone.

You stare at the ruins for a little while longer before turning to walk away. As you approach your boat on the beach, however, you notice another vessel drawing closer. Two figures step out from the craft and begin making their way up the beach.

“Those outfits… Are you two Sentinels?”

“Halt! This is the headquarters for the Sentinels of light!”

“Um, hello? Mind if I catch a ride?”

Lucian: “Well I’ll be. Looks like we were right to come here.”

Senna: “We need to speak to the one in charge here. Where’s your commanding officer?”

“Gone, along with all the other Sentinels.”

“I’m not sure. This place was abandoned when I got here.”

Senna: “What? Then you’re the only one here?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Not for much longer. This place is a dump.”

Lucian: “Great, just great! We come all this way and all we can find is one damn Sentinel?”

Senna: “What’s your rank, Sentinel?”

“Rank? I don’t exactly… Have one.”

“I’m kind of new here, so…”

Lucian: “Oh, great! The kid’s a rookie, too!”

Senna: “Enough, Lucian. Listen close, Rookie: right now, there’s a Harrowing on the way bigger than any we’ve ever seen before. Like it or not, no one’s leaving this island until we drive them back.”

“Woah, hang on! A real Harrowing? I did not sign up for this!”

“Oh, finally! Here I was, worried that I wouldn’t ever get to see some action.”

Lucian response 1: “Suck it up, Rookie! You’re a Sentinel, so this is EXACTLY what you signed up for. Wait, where’s your weapon?”

Lucian response 2: “You’ve got spirit, Rookie, now let’s see if you can back it up. You know how to use that weapon, right?”

“Um…”

“I don’t have one. I thought I’d receive one here, but…”

Lucian: “Oh, for the love of-”

Senna: “No time for talk, here it comes!”

Prologue Part II

The Black Mist rolls up onto the shoreline. From the haze, countless malformed creatures emerge, moving toward you with murderous intent. The sight sends a chill down your spine, but Lucian and Senna respond calmly with a torrent of light from their weapons. Their movements tell of years of experience, each shot carefully aimed to tear through the onslaught.

“Wow…”

“I almost feel sorry for the monsters.”

As you watch, transfixed, a shadow looms over you. You turn and see that hulking undead figure with several faces has raised its claw, preparing to strike you down then and there.

Senna: “Look out!”

Senna fires a blast from her Sentinel gun that seems to go right through you, blasting a hole in the monster’s chest. Rather than harm you, however, the light seems to invigorate you.

“What just happened?”

“I didn’t know Sentinel weapons could do that!”

Senna response 1: “No time, Rookie. If you can’t fight, then get inside the base and take cover!”

Senna response 2: “Most can’t, but there’s no time to explain. Get inside the base and take cover, Rookie!”

You start to do as told, but you quickly see that your path is blocked by howling wraiths. The undead have you completely surrounded.

Lucian: “Senna, a little help over here!”

Senna: “Lucian, hang on!”

Dread begins to wash over you as you realize how hopeless the situation is. Outnumbered and with no way to fight back, the wraiths start to close in on you. Just as they’re about to reach you, though, something cuts through the Black Mist and strikes down the undead before they can reach you.

???: “Are you quite alright? That must have been quite the fright!”

“Thanks! You really saved me there.”

“Uh, not to sound ungrateful, but who are you?”

“Uh, is that… A giant pair of scissors?”

Gwen: “Oh, pardon my manners! My name is Gwen, but we haven’t the time to talk now! Quickly, we must get you inside!”

Before you can think to respond, Gwen grabs your arm and pulls you along, leading you into the remnants of the old Sentinel base.

Prologue Part III

Gwen: “Ah, so this is a Sentinel base? I must say it’s rather drab in here.”

“Uh, thanks again for saving me, Miss Gwen.”

“Wait, we have to go back! The others are still out there!”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a dump.”

Gwen response 1: “Oh, you’re very welcome! Now then, if you’ll excuse me, I believe your friends require some help as well, no?”

Gwen response 2: “Yes, quite right! You just wait here where it’s safe, and I’ll see to them.”

Gwen response 3: “Well, regardless, it seems that the undead do not wish to enter. I should go and find your comrades to bring them in as well.”

With that, Gwen rushes off, charging back into the fray. You watch from the entrance as she slashes apart the undead with her giant scissors and pierces them with floating needles. Around her, a peculiar mist seems to form that repels the Black Mist around her. Eventually, Gwen vanishes from sight, though you can still hear the sounds of battle from the shoreline.

“…Whelp, time to sit back and relax until they sort this out.”

“Damn it… There has to be something I can do to help.”

You looked around the Sentinel base and notice a peculiar table in the center. Inspecting it closer, it looks to be a map of Runeterra, carved out of Relicstone. A peculiar object rests on top of the table, shaped like a key with a small orb at the end. Curiously, the objects begins to glow, almost as though calling out you.

You reach out and clutch the object in your hand, lifting it from the table. You then notice that a portion of the map seems to be glowing in response: the small island where your base is located. Cautiously, you bring your weapon closer to the table. The two seem to thrum in unison together, before both going dim. Then, the building starts to shudder…

Prologue Part IV

The shaking stops abruptly. All around you, ancient markings in the walls start to light up one-by-one. Then, in a flash, you see the entire island outside consumed by golden light. In a massive pulse of magic, the Black Mist is dispelled and the markings return to normal.

“…”

“What… Just happened?”

“Woah… That was awesome!”

You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Lucian, Senna and Gwen walking into the base.

Lucian: “Rookie, you mind explainin’ what in the many hells you just did?”

“Honestly? Your guess is as good as mine.”

“What makes you think I did anything?”

“Just how many hells do you think there are?”

Senna: “Hang on, Lucian. He’s not the only one we should be questioning”

Senna turns her attention to Gwen.

Senna: “Thanks for helping out back there, but just who are you? You’re not a Sentinel, and those scissors aren’t Relics, but they cut through the undead just the same.”

Gwen: “Ah, I suppose I should reintroduce myself properly this time. I am Gwen, the Hallowed Seamstress, at your service! A pleasure to make your acquaintances!”

“A pleasure to meet you, too!”

“What’s with that weird mist you can summon?”

Gwen response 1: *Giggle* “I’ve heard a great deal about the Sentinels, and how you devote yourself to fighting the Black Mist! I’ve come to offer you all my aid.”

Gwen response 2: “Ah, you mean the Hallowed Mist? Truthfully, I’m not entirely sure myself. I suppose you can say I was born with it.”

Lucian: “Hmph… Well, right now I’d say we could use all the Sentinels we can get. It ain’t exactly standard procedure, but you weren’t half-bad out there, Scissors.”

Gwen seems delight to receive the praise, but before anything else can be said, the map in the middle of the room starts glowing again.

???: “Hello, is anyone there? This is Sentinel Fetu of Buhru! Please, respond!”

Prologue Part V

You and the other Sentinels gather around the table as the image of a strange man flickers above it.

Fetu: “Ah, good, it seems we weren’t mistaken. That’s odd, though… I thought the old headquarters had been abandoned.”

“What’s going on?”

“Is that another ghost? How did it get in?”

Fetu: “Not the brightest relic in the vault, are you? Hard to believe that you would be chosen to use the Wayfinder.”

Lucian: “Wayfinder? You mean the Relic Rookie’s got there?”

Fetu: “Bah, don’t they teach anything at the other outposts these days? Alright, listen closely: that Relic you have there? It is the Wayfinder, a very special and ancient Sentinel tool. It has the power to link itself directly with the Nexus crystal in the heart of Sentinel bases. Nexus crystals, as I’m sure you are aware, are conduits for magical power.”

Senna: “So that explosion of light earlier, that was from Rookie using the Wayfinder to link with the base?”

Fetu: “Aye, but that’s not all it can do. The Wayfinder also has the power to connect to the Nexus crystals of other bases, allowing instant transport between them and communication across vast distances. That is how we are speaking now.”

Gwen: “My, what a versatile little took you have there!”

Lucian: “I’ll say. Definitely not something that should be in the hands of a greenhorn.”

Fetu: “Unfortunately, that is not your call to make. It is said that the Wayfinder chooses its wielder, and can only be used by the one to whom it is bound.”

“So… I’m its chosen wielder?”

“The Wayfinder chose me… What an honor!”

“So it’s less of a weapon, and more of a multitool?”

Lucian: “Ah hells… You mean to tell me that no one but this kid can make use of it?”

Fetu: “Hmph. The Wayfinder is strange with its choices, but perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. No one has been able to wield that Relic in ages; that it awakens now may be our one hope of overturning this nightmare.”

On the map before you, you see much of the land being overtaken by darkness.

Senna: “Damn it… He’s growing stronger.”

“Who’s growing stronger?”

“I… Assume that’s bad?”

Lucian response 1: “The Ruined King. The guy responsible for the Black Mist and the Harrowings. Right now, he’s spreading his damn mist all across Runeterra, and if we don’t stop him, it’ll be the end of life as we know it.”

Lucian response 2: “You don’t know the half of it, Rookie. A Harrowing this big can only be the work of the Ruined King. If he’s not stopped, that darkness is gonna take over the entire world.”

Fetu: “Then it’s as we feared… Listen closely: the Black Mist is at our doorstep, and we cannot hold out for much longer. Soon, this Sentinel outpost will be abandoned, meaning that it is up to you all to stop this calamity. Use the Wayfinder, travel to the other Sentinel outposts and recruit as many of our comrades as you can. If Runeterra is to survive this Harrowing, we must stand united! We must-”

The image vanishes and Fetu’s voice goes silent. You and the others all stand around and stare at the map for a moment before Gwen speaks up.

Gwen: “Oh dear. I hope he’s alright.”

Senna: “If he is, maybe we’ll meet him again one day. Right now, we know what we have to do.”

Senna turns and stares at you.

Senna: “Looks like we have a job to do, Rookie. Fire up that Wayfinder.”

“Yes, ma’am! Where to first?”

“Geez, I wasn’t expecting all of this so suddenly, but I guess I can’t back down now. Where do you guys wanna go?”

Lucian: “Demacia. Looks like the Mist is all going there, which means there’s a good chance the Ruined Creep’s there too. If we take him out, this whole nightmare’ll be over.”

Senna: “It won’t be easy, but with more Sentinels on our side, we might just stand a chance. You ready, Rookie?”

You nod solemnly, clutching the Wayfinder closely. Though not what you expected, it seems the time has come for you to partake in your first proper mission as a Sentinel of Light.