#service of the Brain Worms. ok

[youssefguedira]

behold, the product of yesterday's lotr au discussion (for @spacegirlsgang)

Nicolò has not spoken to him in days.

He hasn't spoken to anyone. He walks silently at Yusuf's side, hand always on his sword, eyes always on the horizon. When there are people who need it, he helps, tends wounds and lifts the younger ones onto horses and hands out food. He still does not speak, and Yusuf worries for him.

They have already lost Quynh, and Sebastien. Dizzy and Jay may well be dead by now for all they know, and Nile and Lykon… he does not really want to think about it for long. He only hopes they are alive. And now Andromache, too, is gone, and Nicolò will not speak, and Yusuf cannot help feeling very, very alone without him. It is strange: Yusuf would have thought, just a week or two ago, that he would have been glad never to see Nicolò again. Now, the thought terrifies him.

When they make camp that night, Yusuf takes his place by the fire with his sword across his lap and prepares to keep watch. Nicolò joins him, after a while, but instead of taking a seat and silently watching the horizon as Yusuf has come to expect him to, he speaks.

"You should rest," he says, voice hoarse as if – well, as if he hasn't used it in days. He carries two bowls of stew, one of which he passes to Yusuf.

"So should you," Yusuf responds. He's exhausted, but neither of them have slept much – he's not sure Nicolò has slept at all since they lost Andromache.

"I do not need to sleep like you do," Nicolò says, which almost makes Yusuf laugh.

"Bullshit," he says. "Even you can't go this long without needing to rest."

Nicolò doesn't say anything to that. Doesn't even meet Yusuf's eyes, but Yusuf can tell how tired Nicolò truly is, and suddenly he cannot bear it anymore.

"We cannot keep on like this," Yusuf says. "This is not – if we're all that's left, I cannot do this without you, Nicolò."

Nicolò is quiet, for a while. When he finally speaks, he says, "Try to rest, Yusuf. I will keep watch tonight."

Yusuf waits. Nicolò does not move, nor show any sign of conceding. Just as stubborn as Andromache – well. He doesn't let himself finish that thought.

He waits a little longer, but Nicolò remains silent.

"Wake me for the second watch, then," Yusuf says, finally. Nicolò does not nod, but Yusuf no longer has the strength in him to push. He falls asleep quickly.

When he wakes, it is morning, and Nicolò is nowhere to be seen. Yusuf can only hope he found someone else for the second watch, and that he did not stay awake all night, but he would not be surprised if the latter were true.

During the day, they keep to their regular routine – Nicolò's silence and Yusuf's attempts to find anything to do that isn't think too much – but that night, when Nicolò finds him, he sets his sword down by his side and asks, "Will you wake me for the second shift?"

Yusuf nods quickly, too quickly, and Nicolò smiles, though it is small. It's the first time Yusuf's seen him smile in days.

He wakes Nicolò for the second shift and sleeps after that, and the next night, Yusuf takes the first and Nicolò the second.

It's a start, at the very least.

–

The day after they reach Helm's Deep, Nicolò is the first to see the rider.

He does not realise who it is at first: the figure is too distant. They wear a cloak with the hood pulled low over their face, and lean heavily over their horse, as if injured.

Nicolò's first thought is that it is a scout. His second thought, which he discounts quickly, is that it is Andromache, which. It cannot be. He does not dare imagine it.

When the figure keeps approaching, he shouts a warning to the guards on the walls. Yusuf, who had fallen asleep beside him, his back against the stone, startles awake. "What is it?" he asks, still half-asleep.

"I do not know, yet," Nicolò responds. He gets to his feet. Yusuf follows a moment later.

"I see it, now," Yusuf says, furrowing his brow. Nicolò's hand goes to his bow, just in case. If it is a scout, he will deal with them quickly.

Then, suddenly, Yusuf's eyes go wide, and he curses. Taps Nicolò twice on the shoulder, and runs along the wall, down the stairs, towards the gate, shouting at the guards to open it.

Nicolò looks again, then, and realises what Yusuf has seen. The rider's weapon is just visible over their right shoulder, and Nicolò knows the carvings on its handle, knows them because they are the twin of the carvings on the hilt of his hunting dagger, because both weapons were forged by the same person.

He is moving before he truly has time to process the thought. The gates are opened far too slowly, creaking with the movement, and by the time he can see the rider again she is sitting straighter in the saddle, a wide grin on her face, urging her horse forward. It is only Yusuf's hand on his arm that keeps him from running through the gates to greet her; when Nicolò looks back at him, his smile is bright enough to rival the midday sun.

Andromache.

Finally, she is there, riding through the gates like a king returning to her kingdom, like she had planned this all along, like Nicolò hadn't seen her fall from a cliff only a few days ago. She dismounts easily, before the horse has even fully stopped, and then he is running, and she is meeting him halfway and gathering him into her arms and laughing, even as he thinks he starts crying.

Then Yusuf is there too, and Nicolò has to step back but cannot bring himself to go far, and Andromache hugs him too, while Yusuf laughs, bright and loud.

"Where have you been," he is saying, and "I thought you were dead, Andromache, I thought we had lost you," and she laughs again and cups the back of his neck with one hand and says, "I'm okay, Nico, I'm okay."

"So," Andromache says once Yusuf steps back, too, her grin sharp despite how exhausted she must be. "Tell me what I've missed."

[awkward-tension-art]

Bacta and Bandages Chp.7 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 6. Chapter 8.

Grief

CW: Slow burn, Two fools trying to ignore their crushes, Grief, Loss, talk of dead friend, death, crying, emotional break down, talk of unfair treatment of clones, Rex is a SWEETHEART, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

Tag List (Thank you for liking my writing <3): @arctrooper69 @heavenseed76 @ghostlyembassy

Announcement: Field Surgeon Ferrum of the 107th legion has fallen in battle.

Service to be held in 3 standard rotations on Coruscant, Republic military base

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. All medical personnel in the GAR were connected via networks and communications. It was to keep tabs on the overall health of the army and swap medical advice. You didn’t know every single doctor and medic, but you knew this one. 

Doctor Ferria Ferrum. A fierce, hard working togruta with a bit of a sarcastic streak. You worked with them at your former hospital on Coruscant, before the war. They left to join the army before you. You hadn’t seen them since they left that day, but you’ve exchanged messages if the holo allowed. 

“Doctor?” Kix’s hand was on your shoulder, “Are you alright?”

Oh. right. You opened the holo on your desk in the medical bay. With a nod, you closed the message, “...Yes, I am.” You stood, meeting Kix’s eye, “I’m alright.”

He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but nodded anyway, “If you need a minute to…grieve…”

You took a deep breath to steady your emotions, “No, I’m good to work. If I need to step away, I will.”

The two of you returned to work. There were still many injured from the second battle of Geonosis. Many to the point where The Resolute had to dock at a medical space station. Not to mention Ahsoka’s run-in with a brain-invading worm.

The poor girl has a fever and chills from freezing an entire ship to slow the parasites down. 

It was clear, you couldn’t go to the memorial service. There was too much to do. You’d have to grieve alone this time. 

As you made your rounds, you tried not to think about it. You were at war, losses were expected. You needed to steel your heart and keep going. 

So you did. 

That was, until Ahsoka mentioned something, “Doctor..?” She mumbled, “Are you ok?” The padawan was buried under blankets, and the fever medicine made her drowsy. Her eyes were half closed from sleepiness, “You seem…sad.”

“How do you know I'm sad?” you asked, keeping your voice as calm as you could. Right now, you were replenishing the fluid IV that you gave the togruta.

“The Force.” was her blunt response. 

Damnit.

You frowned as you checked her temperature, “I was just informed a colleague of mine had died in battle,” Your eyes were focused as you prepared medicine to ease her fever, “And there’s too much to do here for me to go to Coruscant for the memorial.”

Ahsoka matched your frown, “You should go.” 

“I have a responsibility here,” You gave her a small, hollow smile, “Besides, I prefer being here. With you, Rex, Anakin and the other soldiers.”

The padawan nodded slowly, shifting to lay on her side, “Everyone is glad you're here…with the 501st.”

For some reason, her words twisted your heart and made tears blur your vision. Maybe the shock finally wore off and the grief hit you. Maybe it was just the fact that the teen was honest and pure in her words. Maybe it was a reassurance that you unknowingly needed about your place among the troopers. 

Either way, you had to turn and wipe away your tears, “Thank you, Ahsoka…” your voice cracked before you cleared your throat, “Get some rest. I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you.”

She nodded groggily before you hurried from the medical bay. You needed to get away from anything medicine related. It reminded you too much of the places where you and Ferria spent time together.

You managed to find an empty storage area. Armor and helmets were stacked neatly on shelves, but you paid it all no mind.

The door was closed and a hand was over your mouth to cry in less than a minute. You leaned against the door, sinking to the floor to weep as quietly as you could. The tears felt hot against your skin as your sadness overwhelmed you, clouding your mind. 

You gave yourself 10 minutes. 10 minutes to cry. 10 minutes to let yourself feel. 

Then you had to get back-

“-Half of the doctors on this station are leaving for this damn service.” 

Through the metal door, you could hear the passing words of several troopers. Despite your state, you listened. 

“The 212th medic is leaving too, it's ridiculous. All because they’re a nat-born.” 

“If that doctor was a clone, no one would bat an eye-”

Their words faded off into nothing as they passed the door and continued down the hall. It hurt, knowing how they left. 

But they were right.

How many clones died on the field only to be forgotten? How many good troopers had perished to be left to rot in the dirt? 

They were right. If Ferria wasn’t a torgruta, if they were a clone, this service wouldn’t be happening on Coruscant. Their body would have been left behind, to remain on some unknown planet. 

 If you fell in battle, you’d be given a memorial. Your body would be collected if possible and you’d be given a proper burial. All because you were nat-born. An outsider among clones. Your status gave you special treatment and power you didn’t mean to have.

It wasn’t fair. You knew that.

But it still hurt to hear. 

At some point you moved away from the door, leaning against the wall. The cold metal felt icy on your skin as you let your tears fall. You stopped weeping, just staring ahead to cry silently. 

You had to return to work. After all, there were probably some troopers who needed bandages changed, or painkillers to sleep as they healed. Kix could handle it, but it was your job. You couldn’t shut down because of Ferria’s death. The clones weren’t allowed to break, so why should you?

Maker, it was hard to move.

Your motivation was shot. All you needed was just…a few minutes to recharge. Process. That's all…

You could hear the steps and mumbles of the soldiers as they passed through the hall. The galaxy was moving on as if nothing happened. In the grand scheme of the war and life, it was true. That was the reality of it all. 

Ferria was a small piece in this war. And for the first time in a while, you asked yourself a single question.

What’s the point of all of this?

“What should we do? A holo-card maybe?” You opened your eyes, hearing the discussion between two more troopers. Seemed everyone on the ship and medical station were talking about the funeral service. 

Ferria was well liked at the hospital. Perhaps they made a lot more friends in the army than you thought. 

The other one didn’t sound entirely interested in the conversation, “Nothing. I’m sure the doc is fine. They probably didn’t even know that field surgeon.”

“But we don’t know that! Why not-”

“Whatever it is you two are doing, move on.” Rex’s voice cut between the troopers like a knife, “Get to your duties.” 

“Yes sir.” 

After a few moments, the door to the storage closet opened. You looked up, coming face-to-face with the captain of the 501st. He had sympathy written all over his face. 

“Hi.” you croaked, “I’m sorry, I know I should get back to the medical bay, I just needed a minute.”

He closed the door and locked it behind him before stepping towards you to sit down, “It's alright. Kix is handling it. Are you ok?”

You nodded, feeling a deep pain in your chest.

“I want the truth.” he deadpanned. 

Slowly, you shook your head, “Not really, no. Ferria was a friend of mine.” The Captain wanted honesty and you didn’t feel the need to lie to him. 

“I’m sorry,” Rex put a hand on your shoulder. He didn’t say more. He didn’t need to. 

“No, I’m sorry. Half the doctors on the medical station are leaving,” you murmured, “So for the next few rotations the troopers need to wait longer for medical care. And I know that’s upsetting them.”

Rex gave you a confused and concerned look. 

“I overheard some of them talking.” You informed the Captain, “So it’s a good thing I’m staying, I suppose.”

The Captain sighed, “If you feel the need to go-.”

“It’s not fair.” You snapped, vision blurring, “No, it's not fair.” Tears streamed down your cheeks again, “Ferria gets a memorial. A whole funeral, but what about the soldiers they died with? What about the clones!?” You figured out the agony that's settled in your chest.

It was guilt.

Guilt for mourning so deeply. Guilt for Ferria’s special treatment. Guilt for knowing when you died, you’d have the same respectful ceremony while the clones would be forgotten. 

“I mean, here I am, crying like a child after losing one person” You hissed, anger and frustration burning you as much as the grief did, “Meanwhile, how many brothers did you lose on Geonosis!? How many of those good men will get the same respect? A funeral? A memorial service?” 

The 501st captain remained silent, worry clear in his brown eyes as you ranted.

“It's not fair to you or anyone else for me to fall apart. I can’t-!” Your emotional rambling was stopped abruptly by Rex pulling you into a tight hug. You were taken off guard for a second before wrapping your arms around him to return the embrace. 

“Don’t use your energy crying over the memorials and funerals we won't get,” Rex murmured, “Use your energy to remember those of us who fall in battle. Remember their names. Who they were.” 

Your crying started up again, and you buried your face into the plastoid of his shoulder. He was warm. Warm and protective. You felt safe enough to break apart in his arms.

“It’s alright to grieve for your comrade, just as I grieve for my brothers.” His tone was patient and kind as he whispered to you, “Don’t shove away your feelings for our benefit. It’s alright to feel this way, just like you always tell us when we’re overwhelmed, hurt or upset.” 

Of course he’d use your own words on you. On several occasions he’d witness you calm a trooper down from a panic attack. Or wipe their tears as they cried from a nightmare or loss. You’d always say the same thing as you comforted them.

It’s alright to feel this way.

Rex let you cry out your grief. You shook and sobbed as he ran his hands up and down your back. 

The sting of loss was a painful one. He knew that all too well. But he kept his head held high, in order to be strong for the rest of his brothers.

You tried to do the same.

He held you tightly, keeping you close for all long as you needed. Luckily, he locked the door so no one could intrude on such a vulnerable moment. 

Minutes later you took a calming breath, pulling away to wipe away your tears. After a second you used your sleeve to dry the wet spot on his armor, “Sorry, I cried on your armor.”

Rex snorted, “It’s fine. There's been worse on this plastoid.”

You let out a soft laugh, looking at him. Perhaps it was how tired your brain was, but you broke into exhausted giggles. He did as well, though, most likely faking it to make you feel better. His arms were still loosely around you, not quite realizing how nice it made you feel. 

“Thank you,” you croaked, regretfully pulling away. Rex stood, offering you a hand, which you took.

He gave you a soft and understanding look, “Are you going to be alright?” He had a hand on your upper arm, giving a comforting squeeze. 

With a nod, you rubbed the back of your neck, “I will be. I just…needed a few minutes.” You took a deep breath, “I’m good now. Again, thank you Rex.”

His eyes were on you, but after a second he nodded, “Alright…But if you need anything, find me.” 

Your smile was small and hollow, “You as well, for anything, ok?” You walked to the door and opened it. The hallway was bright compared to the dark storage room you had found shelter in, giving you pause to let your eyes adjust. With another sigh, you stepped out and made your way back to the medical bay. 

As soon as you returned, you were met with quiet. Injured, recovering clones were asleep. Ahsoka was out cold from both the fever and the medicine. Kix was stocking up one of the cabinets, and he gave you a nod in greeting when you arrived.

Once you returned to your desk, you were greeted with a folded piece of flimsi. On it were the written words of ‘Sorry for Your Loss.’

You took the card in your hands and opened in. inside were the signed names of so many soldiers. Among them were the names of General Skywalker and Admiral Yularen.

Jesse, Kix, Oddball, Fisher, Jamie, Reign, Redeye, Hardcase, Echo, Fives, and countless more…

Your fingers traced over the written letters, a smile on your lips. You read them all, feeling your heart become lighter with each name. 

“Thank you, Kix.” You looked up at him, “Thank you.”

He smirked, not looking away from the bottles in his hands before putting them away, “You can thank the Captain. It was his idea, he got the announcement too and remembered you knew Dr.Ferrum.”

You looked back at the card, thumb ghosting over one more name, written neatly near the center. 

Rex.

[tomatoluvr69]

Helene floods diary/blog entry 10/11/2024.

Mentions of severe disaster, death/child death, burials/funerals, and of course a splash of deep illness and ed. TLDR it’s very very hard here but I’m more or less ok.

Hi everyone :-)

Greetings from [Appalachian town absolutely shattered by Hurricane Helene floods]. Slowly crawling my way out of the indescribable wreckage. No idea when I’ll be back to work, but received word that every one of my students survived the storm, which is a huge, profound relief. I’ve changed my post-storm efforts from direct mutual aid stuff to burial. Lowered a stranger into her grave and then filled it in manually. No family could be present. There are more next week. Every single day is so hard. Drove with a friend who lives in [one of the hardest hit towns— this place is GONE.] to mourn and get some supplies— he was stranded in his home without information or ability to cook hot meals for over a week. I used to live on the outskirts of that town— I really cannot sum into words how disturbing it is to the core of a person to see places you know so well in utter, severe destruction, soldiers crawling throughout. It’s like trying to describe the color purple to a worm or something. These floods have changed me. Yesterday I went to drop off a load of hazard protection gear in Marshall, NC, where signs read, “WARNING: MUD IS TOXIC. May cause: Disease, Fatigue, Dysentery, Headaches, Lung Infections, Staph Infections. Please Decontaminate Before Going To Kitchen Or Eating.” And on our way back home through downtown (google the downtown, seriously. These are places I went in the before times, visiting with friends, buying groceries, going to friends’ gigs at a now-obliterated bar called Mal’s) we forgot to roll the windows up, until a cloud of dust hit our eyes and lungs. Feeling okay so far, but god only knows.

But my work at the ecoburial sanctuary feels like a respite. There are just a couple people at each burial, proxies for the decedent’s loved ones who can’t come in because of the severely damaged infrastructure and lack of places to stay. The entire city has been without water for over two weeks now. Power is an unreliable commodity, as is internet and phone service. I feel honored to have this opportunity, and grateful for a way to be useful— I was struggling with the executive functioning necessary to carry out my supply runs, to budget the donations and read the lists, then sort and organize drop offs. My brain is genuinely impaired from what I’ve seen. But I see the community at work and trust the people in my network to continue that work. To lower caskets and shovel earth feels better. On Wednesday, the day of my first burial, I went the entire day without the gaping, gnawing dread, sorrow, fear, and stress that’s been my constant companion.

There are learning centers cropping up around the city, schools still being out indefinitely, and the school I work for will likely establish one over the next few weeks in an outlying town that gains water service— likely a few makeshift classrooms in a disused church or fire hall, something like that. And I’ll rejoin as soon as I can, many of the staff having young children they’ve had to evacuate. I work at the elementary level, and I miss my students, I want to provide the stability of a familiar face, but I also sort of can’t fathom returning to work. To bury people is wordless, your body knows what to do. There is no thought required. I can let the boundless grief and sorrow pool within me, and ease it with every thrust of the shovel. It’s getting cool here in the mountains, but the days are still warm enough— crisp October skies, autumn foliage, all that stuff. A gorgeous time to be buried. I would do it every day for a year if I could. But life here is making awkward, creaking lurches towards normalcy, and schools are vital. So I’m soaking in this strange, sacred interlude while I can, laying a stranger’s flood-bloated remains to rest, lowering my head to the mourner’s Kaddish or Nicene creed, grieving tremendously.

Furthermore, the outpouring of support is drying up. You see disaster relief convoys leaving, meal distros shuttering, October rent coming due in full. You get screamed at in traffic, your roommate’s car gets rear-ended by an internet cable repair truck, in the midst of his mourning a family of four. Now comes phase two: the community is still shattered, but you’re expected to function as normal. And you cannot even shower or defecate at home. No one cares anymore what’s happening to Western NC/Eastern TN, and I understand, as I understood when a mass shooting killed 11 at a synagogue three blocks from my childhood home while I was away in NC, as I understand with guilt each time a distant tragedy lands and is forgotten— no one has the bandwidth for everything. It’s simply not possible. But it is surreal to stumble around a shattered world and know that you’re in an island. I already have given up trying to relay what things are like to people outside Helene. Maybe one day. But there aren’t really words for such a visceral trauma. The things I’ve seen will be with me, cluttering my dreams and thoughts, until I die myself. I’m uninterested in making myself heard. I’m alright and I’m not. What I can do for right now is try to feed myself and my community, try to make sure I visit a toilet at least every other day, and show up to the graveyard. I really will be okay. But it’s so surreal, and terrible. Please, for the love of god, if you can help it, never ever live next to a river, and don’t cross floodwaters. The homes, the family members, and the friends people here have lost. It’s unfathomable. I’m gonna try to track down a shower today. All you can really do is move forward. I feel like I’ve finally passed the stage where I was catatonic for hours at a time, which feels nice. I’ve been there before even pre-flood, but it’s so much harder to crawl back from when the things you need, like hygiene, sleep, routine, hydration, and healthy foods are all intermittently accessible and tremendously hard to acquire. But I’m trying now, which is something; I have the goal of two meals a day, two jugs potable water, two showers a week. I’m doing okay again. I’m in financial ruin, it’s really fucking hard. And my ED troubles are back with a vengeance— again, all the measures I have to combat this stuff are prohibitively difficult. I may have to finally cave and go to a grocery distro myself, just to get some healthy foods. Even though grocery stores are open, I am genuinely too traumatized to handle them right now. When im not proactive, which is often, im freezing cold and faint, hyperconvinced all foods are poison. There are times when I could get a hot meal at one of the distribution sites but I cannot eat it because of how triggering and uncertain it feels.

So it’s hard to take care of myself. But I don’t know that layering my trauma of my involuntary hospitalization from my teenage years over my flood trauma and food trauma is possible. And even then there’s no real way to get help right now. All the health centers are either closed or booked out indefinitely. So what, I’m gonna drive to Charlotte for care? Or get telehealth when there’s no place to even do a video call? It is what it is but hey, it’s not great. But I’m ok. Got some fruit and bread, made some rice. I have to remind myself I’m very sick, of course I can struggle with this flood more than, say, my well roommate out chainsawing roads in Swannanoa every day. But every meal really is such a struggle. I got a banana outside a church earlier while I was trying to find a water truck and now my next task is get some dinner. A normal person in my circumstances would be fully equipped to eat healthily by this point, we can refrigerate and cook now. But I’m unwell and it’s hard. But maybe I will let my friend pick up some stuff soon, some bananas and tofu and milk. It’s also hard because we have to use our extremely hard-gotten potable water to wash cooking dishes, so it’s hard to like batch cook a huge batch of dal which is what I usually do when I’m struggling to feed myself, because it means having to do another big water run a lot sooner. But this is a chronic condition and I know its contours, I’ll be ok, even though it’s severely challenging. I have got to work on invalidating myself less, and telling myself my chronic condition isn’t worthy of aid. But the guilt is too overpowering to take advantage of it. So many people lost their entire homes. And even though I’m in dire straits financially and have invisible disabilities and illnesses, I still can’t let myself receive help. But I have hard days and easier ones and if I’m proactive I know how to turn them into easier days. It’s just hard. It’s so much easier to lie in my bed and watch the light on the wall shift for hours. So I fall into that trap sometimes. Especially now that temperatures are falling into the forties and fifties at times, and my window got shattered, and I can’t eat so I’m cold all the time, it’s just so much more comfortable to lie in bed and then I get trapped lol.

All that sounds very grim but really, I’m okay. Part of me still really acutely yearns to get out of WNC for awhile but I don’t think I could be cut off from my community right now, and the closest person in my life is enduring tremendous grief (four people, drowned! Two boys under ten! Bodies found all the way in Tennessee!) and I cannot conscionably leave him, even if I’m struggling to manage my illness here, even if he’d urge me to go, I wouldn’t want that. We tried for a couple days in Durham and it was profoundly terrible in its own way.

So I’ll go back to the cemetery, and then I’ll go back to work at school, whenever that may be. And one day the shower and the toilet will be back, and the grocery stores will have safe foods I can eat. And I’m very acutely aware of all the people, especially in Gaza and Sudan and displaced by imperial interests from which I benefit, who will not regain that stability— my disaster is, at least, the whim of nature, theirs is manmade. I’ve been carrying the trauma of destruction & feeling grief for Gaza in an even deeper way. WNC will pull through, if deeply scarred— i at least have that consolation. It almost feels as if I’ve endured nothing at all. I’m incredibly aware that the water truck I can go to is provided by the same government bankrolling unfathomable death and despair of people in an even more brutally shattered world. The scale of trauma is just beyond imagination. My fury has only increased.

I hope everyone on here is well— I’ve really loved having this space over the past few years, it is such a tremendous mental respite even in antediluvian times, and I am anxiously awaiting having power and internet restored so I can regain that sense of normalcy as well. I fucking miss scrolling, yall. I’m at a Buddhist monk’s house to download some forms I have to fill out and wanted to blog a bit. Please everyone have a really nice hot shower for me and watch a good movie, have a glass of wine with a hot dinner. And give a few bucks to relief efforts in Gaza. WNC will rebuild, Gaza cannot. Much love, your favorite natural disaster survivor ❤️

[bun-lapin]

Deleted scene from Idia's Confession

A/N: Here is some cut dialogue I had planned to use in my recent one shot where Idia confesses his love to you (link here). I got a little carried away with the initial joke so it was cut to make my desired work length and I realized today I probably wouldn't be able to make it work in a future fic lol

~~

You: (picking up a manga and reading the title) "I was a salaryman but then I got reincarnated as a worm and now I live in my former company president's back garden?" What the-? Why is this title so long?! Idia: (turns to look at you, waggling a tiny screwdriver disapprovingly) Hey! That title's a classic so don't knock it 'till you try it! You: Uh ok then. What's it about? Idia: (looking at you dumbfounded) What are you even saying? The premise is literally right there in the title. You: Well, what genre is it? Idia: Slice-of-life. You: Slice-of life?! What?? How?? Idia: Most of the plot is just the worm guy watching the company president and his adorable family get into day-to-day hijinks. Like the president has a fierce personality at work but is surpisngly doting when he gets home. The wife is cute but ditzy. The 5-year-old daughter is super serious and talks like a medieval knight. The little baby acts like a chaos goblin. There's also a sub plot where birds try to eat the worm guy but he usually just tricks them in really dumb ways. Basically standard stuff for the genre? You: (brain almost melting from the explanation) Huh… well alright then. But this guy got reincarnated as a worm? What'd he do to deserve that? Idia: Uhhh I think if I remember right it was because he was always a jerk to customer service workers. You: (nodding) Ah yeah, that checks out.

[tomboyyyaoi]

things in episode 4 im gnna think about for a while (as usual spoilers for new fans and those who havent read the manga!)

the way vash looks at wolfwood/"i can see it in his eyes" wow that was so good

vash being so eepy. his snoring is so cute i want to wrap him up

wolfwood being a shitty priest n charging vash and meryl $$20,000 for a shitty makeshift service

wolfwood and meryl bickering, she hates his ass and he finds it so fucking funny

the fact its setting up for a really painful betrayal... its gnna sting so bad.. i can feel it. what if vash kills wolfwood instead of legato in this one holy fuck i would kill myself that would hurt so much

meryl being proud of vash for eating in the end, him repeating wolfwoods words then looking at him all smug my mashwood agenda is so real

roberto using a derringer...... the death flags are at full mast today theyr totally gnna fridge him for meryl development i can smell it

roberto being just really good. im liking him more n more every ep

everyone besides vash is joining the bully meryl club (but she can hold her own its ok, go off u angry lil chihuahua woman)

zazies voice and design are so fucking cool i love their bug mask. epic.

lots of fantastic Vash Noises this ep (snoring, screaming, sneezing, yelping, the lil grunt while he eats, his voice getting really deep for the "$$20,000?????" line was funny)

meryl fucking HATING the worms

the punisher. just in general. shit made me horny

the setup for wolfwood. zazie teasing him about what vash said. oh my god. i love this angle, he felt more dubious/mysterious but in stampede theyr SO clear hes working w the gung ho guns. i really like it actually, a lot of potential for them tearing out my heart n feeding it 2 me, looking forward 2 it

what the FUCK is going on w the "gate" and what conrad was saying? "hes more human than anyone" ???? HELLO "then we'll just have to rip it out" HHHGG what the fuck is going on w the plant abilities n powers in this i need to know more

sorry my mash brain really liked vash saying meryls name. the manga has conditioned me into seeing that as a big deal even if its clearly not in stampede. idc.

meryl and vash just continuing to be. So fucking Cute. not even many vashmeryl moments this ep just vash being cute and meryl being cute. im putting them in my i love you blender

VASH HADNT EATEN FOR 3 DAYS FROM GUILT. oh my god. hes so sad.

im gnna stop here b4 i go insane but yea come back next week for the same shit (me going fucking mental)

[fitzs-space]

Watched Labyrinth last night with @galacticjay1, and my brain worms took over.

So woe, hermitcraft Labyrinth au be upon ye

Gem as Sarah, main character energy unfortunately but someone's gotta do it. she's the type to just end up in situations. that way the baby Toby can be her puppy Winnie. [alt option would have been Scott, cause Scott's got the vibe to just be in places, but he could not be bothered to actually go through the labyrinth]

Bdubs as Hoggle, just look at him. the tolken short guy whos forced to help and will complain every step of the way about it, and will completely kissass up to their boss. Also both having a prized possession always kept at their side [the Clock, and the bundle of jewelry]

Scar as Jareth the Goblin King, Yea. Who else.

Etho as Ludo, just vibes really. Quiet dude willing to help and can just do wild shit for no good reason. [alt option was Doc, cause he's got the tall brute force energy to him as well, by they said it didn't fit. Docs got more of a higher energy to him then what would fit]

Rens Sir Didymus, Dog Knight. eccentric mf who screams out soliloquys going on about saving the fair madden they have devoted their time and service to, is that Sir Didymus or Ren? yes. Ok those are the main ones, now onto the other characters met in the labyrinth in approximate order of appearance

Xisuma is the worm. look at that mf and tell me I am wrong, one of the lines is this dude asking Sarah to come in for a cup of tea. Id apologize to the Xisuma enjoyers, but this is tumbler and people know he's a bit of a wet paper bag kinda guy.

Impulse and Skizz are the door Guards, The guards have no idea what's going on and neither do those two. I know its Technically the "Four Guards" and It could be team Zits, but the vibe isn't there fully. the type of mfs to mislead someone by pure accident[Skizz], and also cause its a lil funny[Impulse]

Martin as the False Alarms, their entire roll is to dramatically shout false warnings at the people who pass. If I didn't make the man who abuses the voice effects on his GoXLR as the rocks who wait to shout at people, I'd be making a mistake. [listener ass bitch] Also there is straight up a line where one of them goes "oh please, we don't get to shout these very often, its only our job" in some posh voice, then go back to the deep dramatic shouting. and that's just Martin man.

Grian and Mumbo as the Door Knockers, vibes [its also funny to make everyone's favorite guys as characters only seen for five minuets at most] If any two guys are going to be subjected to living their life forever constantly shouting at each other barely being able to understand what the other is saying, it'd be those two. Grian would be the Left, would also scream if he couldn't hear someone [Watcher allegations also] Mumbo as right because the ring in his mouth could be drawn as his mustache

Tango's a Firey, look at him. Cartoon ass bitch, the entire scuffed greenscreen dance sequence is on par with his thumbnails. I know there are supposed to be five of the dudes, but shhhh Zedaph would also fit with these fuckers. the type of guy who could probably detach his head, but still knows that there are manners and its rude to throw someone else's head

Pearl as the Junk Lady, she's the cleaning lady and collects trash, was it ever a question? And Pearls gremlin voice is the exact same as the Junk lady's voice

Doc's the lil fairies at the beginning of the labyrinth, everyone say thank you to Doccy for butterfly truthing Doc.

Jellie as just all the goblins, Scar the Jellie king instead of the Goblin king. The threat of Winnie getting turned into a cat is kinda funny, also there's the Humongous? that's a Jellie panda

the only main characters Im missing is the Wise Man and the Hat, I just do not know who to put them as, maybe Xb and Keralis cause of vibe? or Xb and Hypno cause of the horsehead farms bit. I do not know.

All that will come from this is me maybe drawing Ren and Scar as the characters, feel free to do what you want with this, my brain just needed to scream about this really

[blackjackkent]

OK, back to camp, post-Karlach-acquisition. (Karlachquisition?)

We'll get to Wyll's terrible horrible no good very bad night shortly, but first we have to tell Karlach that we crave murder. This is part of the onboarding process now. Standard operating procedure. Here's your key fob, here's your email address, here's your boss whose brain is completely empty except for a little voice that says kill at all times.

Karlach, of course, is a complete sweetheart about it to a degree that Rakha does not deserve in the slightest.

"I have no memories of where I came from, of who I really am. Is this part of ceremorphosis?"

Rakha always phrases the question this way. It's as if she's desperately hoping that finally, finally one of them will say - yes, this is because of the worm, there is an explanation, there is a reason. But she is less and less hopeful, each time, that it will lead to anything.

Karlach shrugs. "Hm. I don't *think* so," she says slowly, her jaw jutting out in a pensive expression. "At least, *I* still remember everything - in more detail than I'd wish." She grins suddenly, with that indomitable good humor that she already displayed back at the river as soon as she was sure Wyll wasn't going to run her through. "But as for what's going on in your mind, and maybe in mine - I'm certain there are answers out there. We'll find them together."

Is it deliberate, Rakha wonders. Does Karlach know how strongly the search for answers drives her, the only thing that can overwhelm the need for blood? Or is it simply a lucky guess, that strange open-heartedness that has no place in their terrible struggle?

Either way, she feels comforted - which is the most unsettling thing she could possibly feel.

"I am drawn to violence," she says bluntly. "To blood. Obsessions that could become compulsions."

Karlach blinks, startled, but to Rakha's surprise - at least based on her past similar conversations - she grins again. "Well, look," she says, reaching out and putting a hand on Rakha's shoulder. "You've said it - right out loud. That takes guts. The guts you'll need to change."

Rakha looks at her in puzzlement. Change? This is who she is, or at least the only being she has any knowledge of. It is confusing and difficult to control, sometimes frightening. But it is her.

Karlach hesitates, seeming to register something of what is going on in Rakha's mind, because she shrugs and laughs softly. "Or at least make sure you're channeled in the right direction. We've got enough enemies who could do with a good blood-letting, you know."

Rakha remembers the images in Karlach's head, and in Wyll's - devils with their heads severed, demons with their bellies cut out, the tiefling's wild rampage in Zariel's service and then, eventually, in escape. Yes, Karlach knows all about the necessity of blood.

Another lesson, though - not so far from the one she received from Lae'zel. Channel it. Focus your strength, your 'guts'. Find your enemies. Spill them first.

And more subtle, buried deep under Karlach's words, so subtle that Rakha doesn't even articulate it yet to herself - creature of blood you may be, but you have the strength to change, and one day, perhaps, you will decide you want to.

[tickfleato]

btw in grey world (setting with the greys) there are now 5 major sophont species so far and ive come up with some interesting relationships hehehe. most recent are the worms (working name) which are like... ok imagine. That the government puts a worm in your brain to control you. HOWEVER: the worm is oppressed too

this is how the myzo do things

(also, sometimes you ask for the worm, and it’s required to do like, community service)

the other species are the galligoths which are essentially just skeksis and the void-stars which are [REDACTED]

[schrodingers-hoarding-problem]

Jae's Asian Drama Masterlist

a list of all the asian shows I've ever watched (competed, we don't talk about the ones I've been meaning to finish for the past two years), not including any animation

all of them have some form of romance because at my heart I am a slut for a good romance, colored ones are those that changed my brain chemistry

Korean:

Romance is a Bonus Book (my first ever Kdrama and the first one I saw on this list, will always hold a special place in my heart)

Hotel Del Luna (iu my beloved, it did make me very sad at some points, but the dynamic between the main characters so so so good, jealous jang manwol is the best thing)

Light On Me

The Tasty Florida

To My Star

You Make Me Dance

Mr. Heart

Color Rush

Doom at Your Service (I say this is my favorite Kdrama, but honestly it has some really heavy competition. I am not above saying im a little bit attracted to whenever doom fucks someone up ok)

Wish You: Your Melody From My Heart

Kiss Goblin

Where Your Eyes Linger

Run On (its just so sweet y'all, one of the most refreshing shows I've ever seen in my life, the characters feel so real and the relationships are amazing)

Semantic Error (this is where the heavy competition is, both the movie and series versions are insanely good, I just can't recommend it enough)

Tinted With You

A-Teen (currently rewatching it with my best friend, is the essential hs Kdrama, explores so many of the problems that teens face without minimizing them, really embraces that lonely/scary feeling of being in such a turbulent time in your life)

Roommates of Poongduck 304

Business Proposal (the romcom of all time, if you are someone who enjoys a good trope or a well done cliche this is the place for you, it will make you laugh so hard and feel so much)

Our Dating Sim (aljslkasjfkd so so cute, very much Semantic Error vibes and I love that, loved the dynamic and characters so much)

The Eighth Sense (yes give me the good mental health representation, women friends, and cute relationships)

Dream (movie, watched it just for IU tbh)

Thai:

Love in the Air

Kinnporsche (this gave me indescribable brainworms but I could never explain it)

The Eclipse (the series really benefited from how comfortable first&khaotung are with each other, honestly they are friendship goals, but the show itself really tackles some great issues in the schooling system and how they relate to oppression overall)

Until We Meet Again

Between Us (yeah Tumblr really won with this one, I saw one too many winteam posts and had no choice, I do love a relationship driven show and the way the show pulled in discussions about trauma and family struggles was wonderful, I have never seen more of a middle child than win)

Bad Buddy (what can I say, once again the actors have insane chemistry and their comfort with each other really shows on screen, also nanon really is just a powerhouse actor, its sort of a modern Romeo and Juliet but has the most open & honest communication in any media I've ever seen)

Cutie Pie

Cutie Pie 2 You

My School President (may have changed me as a person? I don't even know how to describe how important this show has become to me)

Bed Friend (loved the characters, idk if it gave me worms yet tho)

Only Friends (at my heart i am a sucker for anything First & Khao are in)

Japanese:

Takara-kun & Amagi-kun

My Love Mix-up! (Keita Hatsukoi)

My Beautiful Man (Utsukushii Kare)

My Beautiful Man 2

Taiwanese:

Be Loved in House: I Do

HIStory 3: Trapped

Because of You 2020

Chinese:

The Untamed (I don't even know how to explain the brainworms this show and the novel it's based on has given me, but we do love a fun period piece)

[wandixx]

Ok, so.

Yeah, it escalated. 40 pages. 20 000+ words...

Hope you'll like it

*****

Ok. So, Tim was in no shape to deal with what he saw. Really, he was just wrapping up a case on a Batcomputer after workaholic binge that got him a breakthrough and his sleep deprived brain got curious how his newest brother was handling his things. They all got separate spaces in database to work in, but everyone had access to them in case their cases were connected. They just all knew to not mess with each other files like they knew to not touch Alfred’s porcelain service or to not discuss cape matters during meals. So Tim just wanted to see if Danny, still getting used to looking for troubles and not just fighting them when they got too hard to ignore, needed any help. However he was doing quite well for newbie. He was working on some chain of suspicious bank robberies with the Signal as those two were patrolling together until Danny got all necessary skills on Bat approved level. Tim had to admit, two metas were doing wonders at keeping this hell of a city at bay during the day. He was about to click out and head up to the Manor to get some well deserved sleep when his eyes landed on folder called contingencies.

So, they all got folder like this, Bruce was really serious about them and learning how to make good contingency plans was one of the first thing Batman’s protégée had to do, so he wasn’t really surprised. Tim himself had at least three folders like this, hidden and encrypted so much that only him and maybe Oracle could get inside, with hundreds of contingencies for every known hero in case anything went wrong. Babs didn’t know about all of them, obviously, he needed some ways to stop her and she couldn’t know about it.

Danny didn’t encrypt his folder any more than simple password, which was literally Ph4n70m. He changed his moniker once he joined their merry company but really, Tim needed to make one heck of a PowerPoint about cyber safety and he needed to make it soon. Red Robin smiled when he saw sea of non-lethal plans for everyone they knew and some ghosts. Most of them weren’t even supposed to hurt, just hold them in place long enough to mind-control to stop working or to talk them down if they were going rogue. He even had some contact info to multiple counselors and psychologists with note that they had been all checked by his sister and deemed fit to handle superhero type of problems and instructions on how to break mind control. Note under this said that all instructions were tested before being put in the file, which was mildly concerning but Tim’s brain was a little too fried to really understand what it implied.

Every plan he saw so far was as safe as possible to person of concern. Danny was cute like that. He even refused to beat down rogues often saying he just didn’t know how to fight humans and refused to kill anyone on accident (which was its own can of bizarre worms that somehow made sense). They were getting him some actual combat training and in the meantime he stuck on evacuation duty and such which he honestly loved. Yeah, Danny was adorable like that. His whole files were regularly interrupted by mentions on how boy wished they never come in hand and how he wished there was more peaceful way of doing it if plan actually required punching someone. It was just wholesome to look at (also, bait plans were just funny to think about even if so naïve, that Bruce would probably repeat his lecture about contingencies being realistic if he knew about it).

Then Tim saw The Thing.

Alright, so, it’s not like he didn’t know their newest brother had issues. All of them had, it was easiest way of becoming Bruce’s kid other than running around streets of Gotham and beating up villains (honestly, isn’t it a sign of issues itself?). Well known joke of “blue eye, black hair, Brucie got you there” was funny but not really true. You had to have issues.

They even knew roots of his issues, after all kid’s whole support system died in explosion and he run away to Gotham, the crime capital of the world, to avoid his abusive godfather. Plus, he was doing this whole vigilante shtick back in his hometown as an underappreciated ghost hero Phantom but they learned better than to pry about it after first time he tried to run away when confronted with the fact that they knew about his hero persona. Though they weren’t called best detectives for nothing, they didn’t need him to tell them things to know what was up.

Not when he had days when he just couldn’t find it in him to even get out of the bed.

Not when they knew all his smiles were faked for their sake.

Not when they had to get him through panic attacks.

Not when he was so terrified whenever they got injured or were in life threatening situation.

Not when he would seem to do better only to shut down when something reminded him of his past life.

Not when after day shift he would try to tail Tim, Steph or Cass on their patrols so he wouldn’t have to go sleep.

Not when they saw him brighten up at smallest praise.

Not when he was almost moaning when he was eating Alfred’s food and was surprised by things like fruits on pancakes.

Not when he run straight at villain with no regards of his own safety only to protect.

Not when he ignored his injuries or told them he probably deserved them.

Not when he didn’t even try to defend himself when attacked be it by mean people at BatBurger or tugs in the allay.

Not when he screamed when he was finally forced to go to bed. Apologized for killing his loved ones. Not for being the only one to stay or not being able to safe them. For killing. Bats knew he had nothing to do with the explosion.

They all knew, their newest brother was depressed at best and had survivors guilt whispering in the back of his mind, infecting his thoughts, hopes, dreams and nightmares. However despite some of his behaviors, Tim wanted to believe Danny wasn’t intentionally suicidal. He knew boy probably wouldn’t be mad if something or someone killed him all the way but he wanted to believe his brother wouldn’t get out of his way to make it happen.

Looking at the contingencies Danny collected on himself, Red Robin had to admit, he was wrong.

He was looking at terabaits after terabaits of ways to hurt or kill his younger brother with blueprints of weapons, information Poison Ivy would need to brought back extinct flower that literally burnt ghost if near them and ways it could be implemented into food so he couldn’t run away before it burnt him out of existence. All Danny’s powers he refused to tell them about unless they became handy in field. All his weaknesses. Geotags of all bases and contact information of organization that hunted ghosts and all known competent ghost hunters. Plans of Gotham and Manor itself with marked places where he hid actual anti-ghost weapons with description of how to use them. Personalized weapons for each of their family to use what they were most comfortable with. Some tidbits about halfas’ biology to let them know where to hit to hurt him the most.

All described in cold, detached words, like scientific document.

First thing every Bat adjusted person learned about contingencies was the fact that they had to be physically realistic. For example they could just use normal rope to stop Superman. Second thing they learned about contingencies was the fact that they had to be mentally capable of using it. That was the reason Bruce had little to no plans against his kids. He knew he wouldn’t be able to use it.

Danny seemed to think that someone in their family would use any of the crazy shit he prepared.

Yeah, hell no, Tim was in no shape to deal with this alone.

You: Guys I need you all in cave now

Discowing: wassup Baby Bird

Discowing: im commin fir thw resq

Well, despite how horrendous was his texting culture Tim was just glad that Dick wasn’t in Bludhaven right then.

Demon child: Tt, Drake, I hope you are aware that if it turns out being something not truly urgent I will not hesitate to stab you.

Resident Zombie: I’ll cough in your face next time I got cold if it’s a prank Timbers

PurpleTurtle: It’s like translation from Demon’s to petty English

Jumpscare but human: Fact

Now, normally Tim would at least smile looking at his siblings shenanigans but it was not a normal situation. He just wished they would get there faster.

You: Just get your asses here

Bat Signal the kid: Tim, what’s wrong

Bat Signal the kid: Is Danny alright?

It wasn’t weird thing to ask since Tim did use no-Danny batkids group chat (in their defense, there always has been at least one chat without each one of them, though mostly used as place to plan pranks and share gossip). However it also wasn’t thing to share over a group chat.

Demon child: Obviously not, Daniel hadn’t been in good shape of mind and body since we met him. The question should be if he got worse.

Demon child: What did you do, Drake?

Discowing: u gpt Baby Bat worried

PurpleTurtle: Yeah he’ll break his phone if he squeeze it any harder

Jumpscare but human: Me Steph Duke Dick Damian in lift

EyeInTheSky: Tim, am I seeing what I’m seeing on Batcomputer screen?

EyeInTheSky: I really fucking wish I’m not

When they all finally got to the Batcave and to the computer (Jason probably broke every traffic law in existence on his way, he cared about his fellow undead brother), Tim just finished putting each of their contingencies in Danny’s files up on the screen. Someone would call him dramatic. That’s simply not true. He just needed them to get context before he showed them The Thing.

Babs, please stop screaming at him trough comm., his head was already killing him.

“Read it” he simply said when they were all there. For once, they listened, each getting through their part of the file with growing smiles on their faces. Except Damian, he looked offended when he had read part about bribing him to the good side with ghost animals.

“Baby Ghost is adorable.” Dick cooed, getting enthusiastic nods from everyone.

“And naïve.” Damian added, scowling “I still don’t understand why Daniel’s lack of ability to create realistic contingencies is such urgent matter.” Wait, from when did Damian started calling Danny by his first name? “We did deal with Zabini three days ago.”

Zabini was Danny’s absolutely horrible teacher from whom ghost refused to protect himself, giving them half hearted excuses like ‘I’m used to it’ or ‘Who will expect Fenton looser to be Gotham’s newest cape crusader, I protect our identities’ etc. Demon kid finally had enough and used his League training to get this nuisance from his brother’s back. Everyone else may or may not helped with it (blinking lights weren’t Duke’s doing, not at all). Dick could be scary if he really wanted to.

Yes, they could just use Bruce’s influence and money and get Danny different teacher for his online classes but it was way funnier and way better way of dealing with it.

“It’s not all. All his files look like these with sole exception of three people. One of them is his godfather, second Plasimus. Now close your files” Tim just sighed, getting up from the chair to let them see screen better.”Read this. These are contingencies Danny collected for third person, the most lethal ones”

They read in silence, dread and determination growing with every word. Whoever pissed ghost child enough to deserve such files was on instant on shoot without hesitation list.

Jason was grabbing his gun. Damian’s knife was already in his hands. Lights went a little funky, reacting to Duke’s distress. Steph’s fingers were twitching as if she was restraining herself from choking someone. Cass went inhumanly still, like predator ready to attack. Dick tried to get his escrima sticks but was out of suit so obviously he didn’t got them.

Batman’s no kill rule didn’t work outside Gotham, did it?

“These are the files Danny created for himself.”

It took them a moment to comprehend.

Then the hell broke loose with everyone speaking over each other which wasn’t nice to Tim’s very much sleep deprived brain and migraine.

“Well fuck.”

“Shit just got serious.”

“Tim you dramatic little bitch!”

“Drake I know you are not always in your right mind however I believed fathers training made you understand phrase ‘bury the lede’ and you learned why it is a bad thing. Clearly I overestimated your capabilities again.”

“Baby Bird please tell me it’s a joke.”

“It sure as hell isn’t Dick. I just checked logs.” Babs answered, hijacking Batcomputer’s speakers. “Danny was creating these files since he got access to database, before he did anything else. Though he named it some random keyboard smash before B got him through contingencies files and then he created plans for Vlad and Plasimus almost instantly after classes and then created other files.”

“Told you” Cass announced, speaking up first time since she got to the Cave, which actually wasn’t weird to her and maybe Tim shouldn’t focus on it so much.” Scared of powers.”

“Yeah, I get it, getting powers can be horrifying but also-“ Duke didn’t finish, probably not sure how to do it but tried again” Becoming meta is quite an experience and he just lost very important people to him but- how- I- he-“ he had taken a deep breath before he finally forced out whispered “ How can he hate part of himself so much? He is at peace when he is flying. Almost happy. How can he do that while being so scared of himself? How could he use it at all if he is so scared?”

Duke’s face was grayer than usual as he run hand trough his hair. Dick squeezed his shoulder in reassuring gesture.

Right, Signal and Lar had been bonding over being only super powered individuals in the family. Hate towards ones abilities was probably straight up disturbing especially if Danny managed to hide it for so long. They were probably playing with their powers during patrols. Did Duke feel bad for it now, knowing that his brother hated them so much?

Did he feel bad for not realizing earlier?

“You have to remember Thomas that all of his opponents had similar if not same power set as he does. Daniel could create some senseless connections between his abilities and moral code especially if we consider lower than normal percentage of metas in his hometown.”

Nobody knew how to react to that.

“Alright, so” Steph took deep breath before continuing “what do we do now? I’m afraid that Alfred’s chocolate, Damian’s pets and fluffy blanket may not be enough this time.”

Nobody as much as smirked but Tim was kind of grateful that she tried to ease the tension. It was weak joke but they weren’t in shape to do better.

What do they do? Great part of being a hero was going along the lines of ‘why is nobody dealing with it, well I can do it if nobody better does’ which meant that they often faced this question with nobody willing to answer.

“Let’s start with deleting this fucking files. I don’t give a shit if he’ll recreate them or something, I will smash computer if it’s not gone right fucking know."

For once Tim could agree with Jason. Maybe not on a ‘destroying batcomputer’ part but they shared rest of the sentiment.

“Cannot be alone for long” Cass stated and really, nobody could argue with that either.

“Maybe we should get him to talk with Black Canary?” Dick proposed hopefully. “I know, he doesn’t want to talk with counselors but she is a hero, maybe he’ll agree.”

Tim sighed at naivety of his oldest brother. It was understandable since he spent more time in Bludhaven than with them and hadn’t seen battles they had over therapy but still, it was so naïve.

“He’ll just call us out on our issues and ask why we didn’t talk to her if she is so great. We tried like seven dozen times already.”

“You don’t want to hear him calling us out on our issues Dickhead. He made Cass cry.”

“He cornered and scared and angry. Fast apologized.”

“Yeah, but my point still stands. You can’t get him to see therapist. Everyone was a mess after trying.”

“Well, we have to do something but also we can’t exactly confront him. He’ll run away again and we can’t let him. Not after we learned this.” Steph stressed.”We need to reassure him that we love him, that we care about him and that we won’t use any of this on him.”

“We can empty all his hiding spots from weaponry one by one and destroy it in front of him in some not obvious way. Daniel may not be the brightest when lacking sleep but he is not stupid, we need to make it look like he walked on us getting rid of means to harm him and not like we started breaking it down the moment he entered the room.”

“Demon brat I can’t believe I’m saying it but that’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Thank you Todd.”

Tim quirked his lips in almost invisible smile. He knew getting his siblings on case was a great move.

“Love languages!” Dick yelled as if he just discovered new element or something. He raised hands like cartoon character almost hitting still-not-well Duke in the process “You heard about them, right? Let’s use them. All of them.” Sounded like a threat.

“Dibs on gifts! I gotta use Alfie’s cookies and books about stars” Steph grinned, slamming her open palm on the table.

“Well if we want to actually give him food, I am the only one still allowed in the kitchen-”

“Shut up Jason.”

“Don’t get your feathers ruffled, you can share.”

“Touch.” Cass announced and nobody was willing to fight her on that. She was the best at hugs.

“I shall use quality time technique and get him to share his exceptional knowledge about space. He seems to be at peace when doing it.”

“Oh fuck, Demon child cares like, really hard.” Steph muttered probably to herself (or to Cass who knew it all along) but it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Tt, of course Brown. He painted all of Mother’s blades with neon pink paint first time he met her and said he will do it again until she leaves me alone unless I invite her to Gotham by myself. It was paint that would cause metal to rust faster so Mother spend next day and a half cleaning all her weapons. He kept his promise, next time he painted them in Richard’s blue and recently he asked me what color I would like to see on her next. This is service I shall repay for.”

They were all stunned after that, not quite sure what shocked them the most. Damian having someone other than Bruce and League in such high regards, Talia being victim of petty pranks or Danny repeatedly pulling such prank on literal trained assassin.

Well that explained first name basis with their resident devil incarnate.

“Kid is fucking incredible”

“I’m so gonna drown him in compliments.” Tim shrugged, partially as answer to Damian’s story and partially continuing on previous games of dibs.

“Right here with you Baby Bird.”

“Acts of service” Babs chimed. Nobody was going to fight her on it either. She could crush them without even being in the same room. Not risking that.

“Ok, great, so-” Dick clapped but didn’t get to finish.

“Hey guys-” Duke interrupted quietly, hand still halfway raised as he was waiting for someone to let him speak and just lose patience. He was so quiet that Tim kind of forgot he was still there. Don’t blame him, he was roughly on fiftieth hour without sleep, his brain wasn’t working on his whole capabilities.

“Speak up Narrows it ain’t school to raise your hand”

Duke ignored Jason’s bullshit as everyone should.

“I get that planning it all is fun or something but, like, if we’re all here, who makes sure Danny is safe like right now.”

Well shit.

Rest probably shared similar thoughts if their rapid paling was anything to go off.

Tim nearly jumped back to computer to check where was Danny’s phone, comm and panic button. Of fucking course they were in three different places with panic button localized somewhere in the severs under Crime Alley. How that even happened?!

Lift pinged, announcing someone’s arrival to the cave. Tim out of habit closed all files with contingencies which turned out to be right call.

“Oh, and here they are, whole colony working together!” Danny yelled not stepping out of elevator.

“It’s not whole colony work without resident ghost” Steph answered without losing a bit which sometimes wasn’t a good think. Boy tensed before ignoring her comment like he always did when they tried to include him.

“Hey Jason, I didn’t know you’re here today! By the way Alfred says lunch is ready!”

There were very few ways to make them stop what they’re doing and go somewhere else. Alfred was one of them. Food was also important part of his power.

Danny eyed Tim with concern when everyone tried to squeezed themselves inside the lift.

“After lunch you’re going to sleep Tim and don’t wake up before the patrol. Breakthrough in your case isn’t worth your well being.”

“Rich coming from you dude.”

“Can’t kill what’s already dead.”

“You’re still halfway alive, try not to lose it on something stupid.”

Danny didn’t answer for a moment.

“Will do.”

Tim really wished he could still believe that.

*~*~*

Danny was seriously considering running away again. Living and working with Waynes known also as Bats and Birds was getting harder. He was getting attached and he couldn’t afford that. Last time he did and he lost them, it was tragedy for the whole world and he was actively trying to avoid it happening again. And not think about it too much if possible. Waynes were at so much higher death risk than his family and friends had been. So not getting attached it is.

All they did, was as if they tried to actively laugh his resolution in the face.

They always were overly friendly and unnecessarily concerned towards him but recently they got even worse.

He wasn’t the brightest, he knew that, but even he could see that something happened and now they were showering him in positive attention whenever they saw him. And they refused to leave him alone for more than one god damn hour unless they thought sure he was sleeping. Like, he was nearly sure they bugged his room but he just couldn’t get himself to care enough to do anything about it.

He also couldn’t get himself to care enough to ask them to stop or something. He probably should since they refused to see non verbal signals but he really couldn’t muster enough emotional energy to have talk like this. They would ask too many questions and he always didn’t like to have The Talks anyway. There was a reason why he erased his parents memories after Freakshow incident.

Also it was nice to have people caring about him like this.

Though he was running away if he got too attached. Not yet but probably soon. After he ghostproofs Manor, Batcave, Babs’ Clocktower and other safe places. Maybe he should create some bunkers for the civilians? Yeah that was probably good idea. After that? They would be as safe as he could make them. Then he needed to leave. It was kind of the bummer, it was nice to have enough food, someone who cared about him and he cared about and safe-ish bed to rest again. Even if he didn’t use last one too often.

Danny stretched, joints popping, muscles singing in relief after Ancients know how many hours in position of the shrimp. He finally finished working on schematics, three prototypes and one finished product of anti-ghost shield because of course he, like an idiot he is, hadn’t retrieved them when he was running away from home so he needed to recreate them from memory, which was bitch and a half. On a bright side, he managed to make them better! Now there was no floor phasing tricks and even in human form he couldn’t get through it and got zapped instead. Future evil him didn’t have human form so some would call this precaution paranoid but it wasn’t. Really, it wasn’t exactly the same scenario, however since Danny knew he was becoming monster like this, it was better be prepared for villain halfa with all his powers and tricks.

He checked the time. 5:17 AM. Huh, he missed lunch and dinner again. No point in going back to sleep though. What could he do until it was late enough to go get some food?

Wait, Dick was visiting Gotham and nobody knew when will be next time he does. Danny should get him at least one shield in case they didn’t meet again before everything goes wrong. Yeah, that was good idea.

It was so much easier to make it second time around. He already knew what worked and how to connect everything. It was almost nice.

Next time he could focus on anything other than metal parts infused with ectoplasm from his cut forearm (thank Ancients it was fall and he could wear long sleeves without looking suspicious) was when he finished second shield. His eyes were a little watery so he rubbed them. He checked the time again. 9:34 AM. Yeah, it was good time for breakfast. His whole body ached from sitting in this horrible position for what was nearly twenty hours so he stretched again. Twenty? No, it wasn’t twenty, he got something wrong. Eighteen? Maybe it was eighteen, maybe twenty two, he was a little too tired to care and actually count.

He stood up and immediately had to seat down with how hard world started spinning around him. His vision was almost absolutely obscured by colorful dots blinking and moving like terrified ants. He closed his eyes and took few careful breaths before slowly getting up again. Yeah, he definitely needed to eat.

He didn’t actually remember his way to the kitchen.

“Hey Baby Ghost you look like a zombie.” Danny didn’t almost jump from his own skin, thank you very much.

“Morning Dick, you got wrong type of undead. For zombie go to Jason.”

Wait, he had a shield for Dick. He made it this morning. Where… Right, he left it in his room. Wait, no, he had something in his ha- right, for some reason he took it with him, clutching on it like a lifebelt. Well, at least he doesn’t have to go back to his room. He marched inside kitchen, swaying so hard he needed to lean on a wall to not fall face first on a ground.

Next thing he knew, Dick was carefully maneuvering him to sit on a chair and franticly asking if he was okay or something.

“ ’M fine” he muttered, not actually caring what was the question. He put ghost shield generator on the table for man to see better. “Remember when Mr. Wayne said-”

“You can call him Bruce or just B., he likes that.”

Danny choose to ignore this interruption and bit a sandwich Mr. Pennyworth gave him with disappointed look on his old face full of wisdom. It was weird to call good adults from outside of the family by their names.

“- that fact that every potentially hostile ghost can get inside Batcave without a trouble is serious security risk and that he will contact Constantine with this tone his uses when he really is mad at someone and hates asking them for anything but he has to anyway? The one he used when he agreed for me to join your night part-time business? You know what I’m talking about?” if look on Dick’s face was anything to go by, he knew and didn’t like that tone too. It was a little reassuring “He haven’t answered yet and Mr. Wayne was getting anxious, so I tried to get my last three brain cells to work properly and recreate ghost shields they used back in Amity. This one is for you ‘cause I don’t know when we’ll see each other again. If you stay for the dinner I’ll make you two or three more to ghostproof some spaces for civilians in Bludhaven.” He took another bite of his breakfast, Dick still next to him and not touching his bowl of cereals.

“Congrats Danny, I knew there is a genius under these messy tufts of yours.”

“ ‘M not a genius”

Man just ruffled his hair with blinding smile and Danny tried not to get too happy at the praise and affectionate gesture. Something in his chest, in place mirroring his heart, sung with delight. But he knew better. Don’t get used to it. Don’t get attached. Don’t-

“But maybe it will be better if you get some sleep before going back to work? I’ll stay up to tomorrow dinner if you do so.”

Boy blinked slowly few times.

Why did he use his longer stay like a price? It wasn’t good thing for him to be out of his city for so long. So many things could go wrong and Danny wasn’t the one to take others away from their responsibilities unless he took their place to ensure nothing happens. Only Ancients and probably Babs know, how many times he got one of the Waynes to sleep and took their patrol route instead. Danny couldn’t really go Bludhaven to ensure it was alright though. He didn’t want Nightwing to be away for too long.

Wait, did Dick misinterpreted Danny’s promise as some twisted not straightforward ask to spend more time together?

Man returned to his place at the table and ate his cereal, still keeping an eye on the teen.

“I’ll make ten if you stay so long and sleep only if I pass out in the meantime.” Boy admitted honestly. He finished his sandwich and drank his orange juice. Mr. Pennyworth refused to let him even nearby coffeemaker. It was okay. He was more of a energy drink enjoyer and had coffee alliance with Tim. Also nothing stopped him from phasing drinks inside walls and retrieving them later. He could make due. He checked time on his too damn bright phone. “I have an forty minutes before patrol so I’ll give you quick tutorial on how to use this shield, okay?”

“Maybe take a nap instead?”

“So, this button turns it on and here you can input radius and height.” Danny started, ignoring Dick’s concern “It’s like a dome. For presentation sake I’ll make it small” he input some random digits and dome in size of the big school back pack appeared on a table. Mr. Pennyworth coughed trying to remind boy about ‘No cape talks at the table’ but Danny ignored him too, way too excited talking about product of his hard work. “but it should be able to cover whole Manor. Anything larger I wouldn’t risk ‘cause it would weaken it but you can try. Now, whole purpose of ghost shield is to keep ghost out or in but I wouldn’t risk in scenario because they could just turn it off and I didn’t work out how to prevent it and don’t die while building it. Maybe I could think of something later if someone else is building it. Never mind ” Dick looked like he very much minded “This shield is better than ones back in Amity because I had to learn how hijack these to get home and such but I have no idea how to go inside this one other than brute force. But fear not, since I added things to make it electrocute every ghost that touches it, it would more likely break me before I break it.” He announced with proud smile.

He did it! He made it better! It was horrifying, his heart was beating way faster than it should, knowing that even slightest touch would send familiar shock through him. The thing, in place where heart would be if his organs were mirrored, was painfully twisted because he used his own blood, his own ectoplasm to create this.

It was wonderful. It made people safe from him.

He was his parents child after all, he was ecstatic that his creation was working more than he was scared of what it could do.

“Baby Ghost, no-”

“I also made sure that I couldn’t cross it in human form which was also lacking in previous ones and that it don’t stop on the floor. In Amity ghosts sometimes just phased through floor and flew up inside. But not with this one! Try to phase? Get zapped and maybe for few seconds powerless underground, see how you like slowly suffocating on earth and little stones, crushed by tones of material above yo-” he sounded like maniac, he was maniac, replaying out loud one of his worst nightmares from the time his powers where developing. He stopped himself with awkward cough “Sorry, got carried away, anyway I didn’t have a way to test how it reacts to overshadowed people.” He continued to ramble, a little stressed over unknown factor about his creation. Mr. Wayne made it clear that he didn’t like unknowns and his protégées all shared this sentiment.“Ghosts still get zapped because I know in human form it’s hard to say if I’m halfa or just overshadowed by something and I get zapped anyway but I don’t know if host wouldn’t get harmed in the process. I don’t think it’s likely but until I can test it I suggest checking people you suspect of having spectral co-pilot and freeing them from it before you make them walk under shield. For normal humans it won’t do a thing, maybe cause a shiver but nothing more. It’s absolutely safe for you and other people to walk through it after it’s turned on, so in case of emergency you can turn it on immediately and-”

“That’s all great Danny but you shouldn’t work on this instead of sleeping.” Dick was cautious and pleading at the same time.

“And eating.” Mr. Pennyworth added in most deadpan tone boy heard since Sam. “I truly hope that you had some snacks in your room and this isn’t your first meal since yesterday breakfast Master Danny.”

Teen just grinned, rubbing back of his neck. Elderly man just gave him more sandwiches with disappointed look on his face. Dick paled.

“Probably? I’m sorry I kinda hyperfocused and lost track of the time. Finally nobody was bothering me so I just kept working and before I realized it was next morning.”

“That’s it!” Dick shouted almost offended, clapping his hands and standing up again “We weren’t bothering you because it was your day off and we thought you were finally resting but since you didn’t you’re doing it today.”

“But-” Danny started, although he was standing up as prompted by firm hand on his back.

“No buts, let’s go,” They started slowly walking to the door “you’re worse than me and I have, like, three Nightwing cases and seven officer Grayson cases to keep me up at night. We’re going to make you sleep.”

Boy straighten up, freezing like deer in the headlights.

“Do you need help? I mean, I’m half dead I probably need only half amount of sleep I can handle going to Bludhaven few nights in week if you-”

“No, Baby Ghost, stop right now. Just stop. I don’t need your help and even if I do, I don’t want it to be given by sleep deprived disaster. Your wellbeing is priority right now.”

Dick made him walk further.

“Ghosts see a lot of things living don’t.” Boy tried to tempt “I could ask around and get you a lead in at least half of your cases if not all of them. Just give me a few nights and you’re clear. Just ask and I’ll do it.”

“Alright Danny, I get it. I don’t need your help now but I’ll remember to ask you if I do.”

Teen didn’t quite believed it but he let it slide for now.

“If you need any help, you can tell us too, you know? We will be more than happy to help.”

Boy froze again.

“You know right?”

He wished he didn’t. If they were so eager to help him, it meant that despite his greatest attempts they grew attached to him. It meant that when he becomes evil, they won’t stop him or they’ll hesitate until it’ll be too late.

It was his role to protect them not the other way around.

He messed up so bad!

He could feel when all blood left his face.

“Please tell me you understand, you aren’t a burden to any of us. We can and will fight a god for you if you need us to. Do you understand?”

Oh, Ancients, Dick just wouldn’t stop until Danny didn’t agree, would he?

“Yeah, right.” He managed to whisper.

“No matter what type of problem it is.” Shit, Danny didn’t muster enough enthusiasm to stop it? “You feel sad? You can tell us. You sprained your ankle and it hurts? You can tell us. Relationship troubles? Tell us. Homework is too hard? Tell us. Anything you want, anything that’s troubling you, you can tell us and we’ll help. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do. I’ll tell you if anything happens.” He said, nodding enthusiastically to make Dick quit talking.

Danny didn’t need to hear it. He didn’t want to hear it. Something in his chest was almost singing at the affection and promises but he couldn’t let them close. It was better both for him, to not hurt so badly if something happened to them and for them to not hurt so badly when he inevitably goes evil.

“I sure hope you do. From experience I can tell you, too many things can go wrong if you go alone. Now go to sleep. Well rested brain works better. And with all due respect, I don’t want anything you created so exhausted. It’ll more likely explode than work properly.”

Whatever Dick tried to achieve by this comment, failed miserably.

Danny’s blood boiled. He could take insults about his height, his idiocy, his lack of multiple skills, you name it. He could be beaten, laughed up, spit at and he couldn’t care less.

He would not ignore someone suggesting something he made wasn’t working.

“More likely to explode?!” He yelled, rage flowing out of every pour in his skin, ringing in his voice and posture.“FUCKING WATCH ME!”

And before his survival instinct kicked in, Danny punched his shield with full furious ghostly strength. Dick needed to know that it worked. He, Danny, needed to make sure he knew. He-

There was electricity dancing and burning across his nerves. His body couldn’t move, overflowing with pain. There was ectoplasm filling out his veins and lungs like liquid fire and evaporated ice, burning and freezing at the same time, drowning him with every attempted breath. Scream that came out as pathetic bubble. His chest was crushed by unimaginable weight, exploding from inside at the same time. Billions of millions cries of pain as if every inhabitant of Ghost Zone wanted to be heard all at once, all both inside and outside his head. His body was getting destroyed, very atoms of his existence were changed, rearranged, his cells killed and built again while his mind was still lucid enough to try and comprehend it. He was waiting for Death, dark and brutal, mother of all ghost he was taught to hate and he wished she wouldn’t wait for so long. He knew her since young age, was taught all there is to know about her murderous children and he couldn’t help but see her as a familiar face in this painful, horrifying, wrong, wrong, wrong situation. However it felt like hours before her cold fingers finally ripped out his last breath away, stopped his racing heart, let him finally get rest.

And then for a moment everything was as it’s supposed to be. There was calm, soothing darkness, silence and coldness. It’s what should have happened to him after he died. He should just stay in this nothingness and then slowly form somewhere in the depths of the Ghost Zone and latch on some older ghost for help and advice until he was ready to survive on his own. He should be mourned and get a grave and feel happy thrill whenever someone laid flowers there.

“-ny”

Instead there were voices but different than last time. Last time there were two high pitched voices of panicking children barely out of middle school. This time there was a lot of older, male voices, calm but with concerned and scared undertones. One was really angry.

“-sponsive, call doctor Thompkins and take him to the cave.”

“THE FUCK YOU DID DICK?!”

He opened his eyes and blinked few times to make world clear again. He laid on a floor, head on someone’s lap. There were warm hands on sides of his face, keeping it secure.

“On it B.”

“Nothing Jay, I promise I just tried to force him to go to sleep.”

Danny tried to seat with a groan but hands held him in place. All conversations stopped at the same moment. Where was he? Who were they? Where were his friends?

“Lay down Baby Ghost. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Person who was holding him whispered in soothing tone.

Oh right, his friends were in cemetery in Amity, these were Waynes aka Bats and he was laying on their kitchen floor having flashbacks of his own fucking death after he oh so smartly electrocuted himself. They were probably not panicking only because of their training. The one who held his head on his laps was Dick.

“I didn’t know I could do this.” He joked, trying to ease older vigilantes. “Sorry for spooking you guys.”

“Kid in the love of the fucking god, don’t you joke on us right know. You screamed like you were fucking dying.”

Huh, from what Sam and Tuck told him, he hadn’t screamed when he was actually dying. He knew he couldn’t because the ectoplasm in his throat was drowning and he couldn’t breathe let alone scream, despite how much he wanted to, but it looked like flashback didn’t include that.

“What was that Danny?” Mr. Wayne asked calmly and boy only then realized that man was crouching next to him. Why?

“Caused by electricity, PTSD related reactions” Tim said and Danny remembered it was down to word quote from his contingency files.

“Oh, you finally read it! Great! Is it enough in depth or should I add something?” Was he desperately trying to change a topic of the conversation to anything but his attack? Yeah, but also he was genuinely curious, which was, probably, a sign of some issues. Whatever.

Tim ignored it anyway and started interrogating him instead.

“You wrote it yourself, what do you mean you didn’t expect this?”

“Yeah I knew something’ll happen, but all the times before when I got zapped I, like, froze, had some minor panic attack or got really anxious, not whatever the hell was that.” He thought for a moment, forcing himself to seat despite Dick’s protest “ It’s probably because I mixed ectoplasm with electricity, it enhanced my reaction. You know, shit suddenly hit a little too close to home. Even though I was the one hitting.” He grinned. Grandfather clock in some other room played to announce 10 AM.

Danny grinned even wider. It was perfect, excuse to escape this conversation just presented itself on a silver plate. He knew they would press him about it later but it was problem for future Danny. Not an evil future Danny, just few hours older Danny, of course.

“Well, that’s my clue, I need to suit up before the patrol, again, sorry for scaring you all” He slowly started to phase through a floor, snickering as all vigilantes tried to stop him.

“Right, Dick I forgot to tell you. On button is also an off button. You can safely shut it down now, since I can’t do a presentation anymore.”

As soon as he left kitchen, Danny let out a breath he didn’t even knew he was holding.

He felt awful, remains of electricity still making his hands twitchy and his body shiver in terror. He wished that patrol would be relatively calm. He needed a moment to get himself back together.

He took another shaky breath descending to the Batcave.

He could do it.

He had to.

*~*~*

Dick was certainly having a day, an awful day at that. He slept in some weird position so when he woke up his muscles were tense and twisted. Before he even ate breakfast, he had to stop fight between Damian and Tim, forcing younger boy to walk Titus to calm down without injuring anyone. Man always hated when his siblings were fighting, so it was enough to turn whole day into something far from good. Then he got to the kitchen, where Alfred gave him his favorite cereals which lightened up his mood a bit. Then Danny, his precious, newest, suicidal younger brother, stumbled inside, looking like he would fall face first on a ground without any help. He actually nearly did. They talked. Dick didn’t liked what he heard.

Though it was nice to see boy so excited about anything. Since they first met him Dick felt like majority of reactions he showed and almost all positive ones were faked for their sake. Maybe it was a little naïve, but man wanted to believe it was sign of healing. Teen finally acted his age or like he was even younger, showing of his creation with shinning eyes. Naturally shining, none of the ghostly magic added.

However, as much as he would normally encourage any of his sibling’s interest that wasn’t associated with their nightlife (did it even count? Maybe not, but it was furthest he ever seen Danny go from it), boy was in too bad shape to be out of bed and he focused on that. He really tried to be gentle but firm, testing waters to see what’ll break this stubborn child.

Unfortunately it seemed that he pressed a wrong button and Danny got angry. Boy’s eyes glowed bright, scary green, his face twisted in pure rage and Dick needed all his willpower to not stumble back. It hit a little too close to home with its resemblance to Jason’s Pit Madness episodes.

And then Danny punched his dome and screamed.

It was loud, high-pitched scream that was painful to hear. Scream that, despite being unintelligible, described great torture better than whatever words someone could use. Dick almost felt electricity killing his nerves and something else making his cells explode.

Boy fell to the ground, trashing around and still yelling. Man quickly sat on a floor and caught Danny’s head to ensure he wouldn’t injure himself. He couldn’t do much more on his own and Alfred had left somewhen before things went south.

As if called by this thought, Jason, Bruce and Tim run inside a kitchen at neck breaking speed, realizing even quicker that there was no time for questions. Youngest of them was already halfway taking his phone out to call doctor Thompkins. Jason tried to restrain Danny but kid was too strong and slippery for someone in his state. At some point he kicked so hard that man fell on his butt, hand already checking if his nose was broken. Thankfully it wasn’t. Bruce looked a little lost.

Then suddenly scream was cut and Danny went deathly limp and they knew how deathly limp looked. They had seen it far too many times. B immediately crouched next to them and took boy’s wrist to check his pulse. He sighed with relief when he found it but kept his fingers where they were in case things changed.

“Danny, Baby Ghost, do you hear us?” Dick quietly tried to call but didn’t get any response.

“Danny?” Tim chimed a little louder.

“C’mon squirt, you’re scaring Dickhead out.”

“Danny, move any of your fingers if you can hear us.” Bruce sounded like he was calm and collected but every one of his sons could hear worry sipping into his voice.

“Danny?” Dick tried again with same result as everyone.

“He is unresponsive, call doctor Thompkins and take him to the cave.” B. commanded, while Jason yelled.

“THE FUCK YOU DID DICK?!”

It was cute that he was so protective over their little brother. A little less cute that because of it he probably barely restrained himself from choking his only older brother.

“On it B.”

“Nothing Jay, I promise I just tried to force him to go to sleep.” Dick pleaded, knowing his life was on the line.

Danny tried to seat with a groan but he held him in place. There was no way for him to let him get up so soon after attack. Especially with how his unfocused eyes swam around room, seemingly without recognizing anyone.

Everyone momentarily shut up.

“Lay down Baby Ghost. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Dick whispered in, what he hoped was, soothing tone. Danny had to feel awful. Dick needed to make sure boy felt as safe and calm as possible. He rubbed kid’s temples in gentle manner. All the comfort.

“I didn’t know I could do this.” Danny quipped after a moment, strain clear in his voice. “Sorry for spooking you guys.”

“Kid in the love of the fucking god, don’t you joke on us right know. You screamed like you were fucking dying.” Jason was back on his feet but he looked like he barely stopped himself from shaking some senses into Danny.

Boy looked thoughtful which was not a good sign.

“What was that Danny?” B. pried.

“Caused by electricity, PTSD related reactions” Tim recited with closed eyes and Dick didn’t like the thought of where he probably read it.

“Oh, you finally read it! Great! Is it enough in depth or should I add something?” Why was Danny trying to be so cheerful when he talked about it? Why did it sound more like genuine happiness than when he was spending time with them?

“You wrote it yourself, what do you mean you didn’t expect this?” Baby Bird was almost accusatory which was not good in their current situation so Dick send him warning look. It was not the time for this.

He noticed how Danny’s limbs trembled. Probably subconsciously boy clenched his fists on his pants to hide it.

“Yeah I knew something’ll happen, but all the times before, when I got zapped” he was electrocuted not just zapped “I, like, froze, had some minor panic attack or got really anxious or trembled for some time, not whatever the hell was that.” His tone was forcefully bright, even though they all knew it was hard to him to talk about. Nothing surprising. Dick was about to tell him that he didn’t need to talk now, when teen sat up and didn’t let himself be put back down. Dick kept his hands on boy’s arms “It’s probably because I mixed ectoplasm with electricity, it enhanced my reaction.” He said thoughtfully which, again, wasn’t a good sign “You know, shit suddenly hit a little too close to home. Even though I was the one hitting.” He quipped weakly. Grandfather clock in some other room played to announce 10 AM.

Danny broke away from his older brother’s embrace.

“Well, that’s my clue, I need to suit up before the patrol, again, sorry for scaring you all” He started to disappear through a floor, smiling at them when they tried to stop him.

“Right, Dick I forgot to tell you. On button is also an off button. You can safely shut it down now, since I can’t do a presentation anymore.”

Way to push him under the train, huh?

Though Dick didn’t really care about it. After all, he hadn’t missed how Danny was shaking and how his eyes shone with tears even when he was phasing with forced smile on his lips.

“We won’t catch him before he’s out, will we?” Jason asked with his eyes fixed at the point where his brother sat a moment before.

“Not a chance.” Tim answered without hope.

They sat in silence for a long moment.

“I believe there are some explanations to be made” Bruce announced with dangerously Batman undertone in his voice. They nodded with grimaces on their faces. They definitely should explain everything but it didn’t mean they wanted too. It was complicated. It wasn’t going to be nice conversation since B was, understandably, kind of mad.

“We should probably bring that talk downstairs” Dick proposed. Was he stalling? Yeah, he really didn’t want to explain it all. Instead he cautiously poked still active anti-ghost shield. Danny said it shouldn’t hurt humans but Dick was serious about not trusting anything made by sleep deprived teenagers. Nothing exploded and he hadn’t been shocked so he put his hand inside and turned this cursed thing off.

Bruce hummed and left room without any further acknowledgment.

Dick exchanged glances with his brothers.

“If you can’t explain it well, your fucked” Jason declared in surprisingly gentle and hurt tone.

“I’m sorry, Jaybird”

Tim just sighed. This had to end poorly.

“Let’s go”

They did, with heavy hearts and dark thoughts in their heads.

When they arrived, Bruce was already standing at the briefing table, visibly bracing himself from pacing. He looked at them and Dick recognized that look. ‘Talk’ he almost said. ’Explain’ he nudged.

‘Where do I even start?’ he wanted to ask, but he kept it to himself. After all, since he was Robin he was taught how to rely information in best compromise of short and usefully detailed.

All his years of training felt useless in face of everything he was supposed to share.

“Alright” Jason clapped, standing on the opposite side of the table, probably to stop himself from murdering someone “now that we’re here, Dick, care to share what the fuck just happened in the kitchen?”

With a sigh he placed a sci-fi looking box where everyone could see it.

“This is anti-ghost shield generator. Let me finish-” he held his hand when Tim tried to comment. Dick needed to let it all out as soon as he could or he wouldn’t be able to say it at all “Danny made this last night. He told he wanted to make it after you, B, mentioned security risk of Batcave being unprepared for ghost rogues. He recognized your ‘I have to talk with Constantine’ voice but also thought it was the same as your ‘I have to let next kid in the field’ voice. He thinks you’re mad at him. So he decided to make it to ghost proof whatever place we want. He explained how he made sure it’s better than ones he saw back in Amity. He had to hijack them to get home and he proudly announced and I fucking quote ‘I have no idea how to go inside this one other than brute force. But fear not, since I added things to make it electrocute every ghost that touches it, it would more likely break me before I break it.’ “ he tried to replicate how cheerful was Danny’s tone, which added to grim effect of his speech.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jason muttered and Bruce looked like he would say something similar if he did speak his mind more often.

“I tried to get him to sleep and he got angry and went all scary ghost bullshit and punched it. You know what happened next.”

“And he just- punched that- just like that? After he told you that it could kill him?”

“We’re talking about Danny, are you seriously surprised by his self destructive behavior B?”

“So intense outside the field? Yes, I find it surprising. Why shouldn’t I?

Jason groaned.

“He haven’t seen Danny’s contingency files.” Tim stated with hollow voice with only slightest hints of disbelief and understanding. Dick’s eyes widened. He was right. Jason muttered curses under his breath.

“No, I haven’t had time for this, what’s in them?”

They exchanged glances again. ‘What isn’t there?’ they asked each other with that alone. And also, ‘how fucked are we?’

“Ok, so imagine you asked five year old to create the most Looney Tunes type of contingencies” Tim started, building dramatic effect with tone of his voice alone. Dick let him, after all, they all were just slightly different types of theater kids (even Damian despite how he refused to admit it) and Baby Bird was master of creating tension while briefing in Bat approved way. “These are Danny’s files for everyone, including some of the ghosts he fought back in Amity Park.”

Dramatic pause to let B comprehend this.

“Now think about Dick’s plans for Tony Zucco. You know, the ones from purple notebook. These are Danny’s plans for Vlad Masters and ghost called Plasimus.”

Well, it’s not like it wasn’t accurate but man, did he hate when Zucco was brought up. Also, how Tim even knew about purple notebook? Dick burned it before kid came to live in the Manor!

“I suspect they have similar situation as Danny and Phantom but it’s more of a hunch.”

“Now Timbers, that’s new. When do we go for this fucker?”

“Jason, you can’t just ask that!” Tim looked displeased, making subtle head movement towards Bruce. Yeah, better not discuss beating someone up in front of him. Even if Dick was nearly sure after some background info B would be down to it.

It was funny thought. Whole Batclan coming to some medium sized town in Illinois to beat down one specific guy.

Fuck you in particular Masters.

Danny nearly got panic attack when he saw that man at gala (they forced kid to attend, not as Bruce Wayne’s newest ward, but they sneaked him there anyway, they couldn’t suffer without him). Whatever that reclusive millionaire had done to their brother, he deserved severe beating from all of them. With assassin training some of them had and all other jazz.

“We can talk about that later” Bruce stated “I assume you haven’t finished Tim” he added, sounding annoyed at interruption.

“No. There was one more file, one that disturbed us the most when we found it.” Boy took a deep breath before he continued “Imagine you got all the craziest villains you ever heard about. Most torturous, brutal ones, all got merged into unholy abomination of hive mind and created plan to destroy someone.”

Bruce looked furious. Dick could understand, he had been in the same position just three days ago. He could almost hear thoughts running through his dad’s head.

‘Who deserved this? What did they do to my son? Where are they and how do I kill them?’

Maybe without killing part.

“This is what Danny wants us to use on him as soon as he shows any signs of turning evil.” Tim dropped and in any other situation he would be smiling. He was just dramatic like that and took satisfaction in effects his storytelling had on his listeners. Not then though.

Bruce paled. He stared into nothing in front of them with wide, horrified eyes. His mouth moved as if he tried to say something but couldn’t force his vocal chords to it.

“He ensured that this would not only hurt and kill him but also make him cease to exist in any form. He listed all his powers and weaknesses to encourage us to create our own plans because he realized that it doesn’t make sense if we use his. He hid weapons that could ‘rip a ghost apart molecule by molecule’ in various places around Manor and Gotham itself, with notes on what each one of us would probably prefer to use. This is fucked up and we’re still not sure how to handle this without causing him to run, so we were showering him in positive attention and refused to leave him alone for prolonged periods of time.” Tim finished, leaning back on his chair.

They gave Bruce time to comprehend all information he just learned. They also needed a moment to redigest it themselves.

Their newest brother was suicidal. Their newest brother was so full of self-hatered that he wanted to be gone. That he believed he should be destroyed the first moment he steps out of line.

It was so easy to forget sometimes.

“How long do you know about it?” Their dad finally spoke, words heavy with poorly hidden anger and concern.

“About three days.” Dick stated cautiously. He understood why Bruce was angry. It didn’t mean he wanted to face said anger.

“Why didn’t I learn about it before?”

Oh, he wasn’t angry. He was disappointed. That was probably even worse.

“You were kinda hard to catch and we focused more on Danny, sorry we didn’t tell you before.”

“Dickhead is being nice, we just forgot you weren’t in on it old man.”

“I mean literally everyone else was there and it wasn’t too hard to assume Damian will tell you…” Tim supported quietly.

Bruce just sighed.

“What preventive measures have you already taken?”

Tim was explaining when suddenly Damian walked up to them in full Robin gear.

“Todd I require your assistance.”

Well that was going to be interesting day at the very least.

*~*~*

Damian had enough honesty and self critique skills to admit to himself that he wasn’t efficient in contacts with people. He was raised to be the best at killing them not talking. He was raised to be obedient puppet, understanding what was expected from him, even better if he did it before anyone could voice it. This left him a little wrong footed when he came to live with his father, in environment where he wasn’t expected to be a weapon. In environment, where he was supposed to have things he enjoyed other than learning to wield blades even better, where there were people who wanted to help him with finding what he liked and where he could spend his time condoning such mundane activities. He was not sure how to proceed but he was slowly getting better at understanding societal rules. Jon was inestimable help in that.

However he was great realizing when he was subjected to the test. It was skill necessary while living in the League of Assassins, where everything, every time, was a way to check if he was worthy keeping alive.

Offering them tools specifically made to harm him was clearly Daniel’s way of testing if they were trustworthy. Obviously, Damian took it upon himself to prove to his father’s newest ward that no harm will fall upon him from Wayne family or anyone associated with them. In his mind best way to do it was to destroy aforementioned tools.

That was why despite sun still being high on the sky, he dressed in full Robin armor and got inside the Batcave. He got a little surprised to see anyone there, let alone his father, pale and with wide eyes, but he didn’t let it disturb his mission. Albeit he was pleased to see other person that could be valuable to his task.

“Todd I require your assistance.” He announced.

“Damian, what are you doing? Why are you all dressed up? It’s barely noon.”

“Good morning Father, I need to retrieve some weaponry before Daniel and Thomas return from their patrol. I thought that I shouldn’t be seen as civilian while doing it. I also do think Todd would be pleased to help me since hideout I found is in his territory and Signal keeps me updated on where he and Lar are, so we won’t be disturbed.”

“What weaponry Damian?” father looked distressed.

“Weaponry Daniel prepared and located around Gotham meant to cause him harm. We would like to retrieve it to the Batcave and destroy, preferably in front of him, to ensure he understands we won’t hurt him with this.”

Only answer he got was a nod. It was as good as he would get.

“Todd do you wish to come along or shall I take my leave?”

“You bet I’m coming, you can’t even drive, Demon BratW.”

“Great, I shall wait until you dress up.”

Todd almost tipped over a chair with how fast he got up and run to the lockers. Richard and Drake also used this as moment to leave. Or look like they were leaving, he didn’t miss how both of them just hid from eyes of father and stayed to observe. Whatever conversation they all just had clearly wasn’t pleasant to anyone involved.

“Damian, did you know about Danny’s contingency plans as long as they did?”

Right, if that was the topic, it obviously couldn’t be pleasant. He wondered if father was mad at them for lack of more direct measures. He hoped he didn’t, Damian wanted to do more but according to Richard, they couldn’t if they didn’t want Daniel to run away. He didn’t quite understand that, however in circumstances like this, he trusted his oldest brother’s judgment more than his own.

“Yes father. Drake found them first and then called all of us on emergency meeting to share his discovery with us.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t know?

“According to Gordon, these files were in Batcomputer’s database from the moment Daniel gained access to it. Even despite how he previously named his file somehow else I assumed you were aware. I do not go looking through others’ contents, as you are aware at times I have trouble using my own files, however I thought you are regularly checking information we put in there.”

Father clearly deflated at that.

“Thank you son”

“Let’s go Demon brat!” Todd yelled, finally dressed in his uniform.

“Call me that once more and I will not hesitate to stab you.” He said with a scowl but he made his way to where Red Hood left his motorcycle. He still wasn’t allowed to own one because of his age. He found it ridiculous, he was more than capable of using vehicle like that but he learned that there were times when fighting with his father was useless. It was one of them.

“Damian, you can’t stab people.”

“I apologize.”

Father sighed but didn’t stop them when Todd sped up out of the Batcave. Once they got on the roads man was riding so fast Damian was sure he broke at least three traffic laws. Not that he cared. They weren’t endangering anyone. Boy let Thomas know that he was with Red Hood on that mission. He thought daytime vigilante would appreciate information like that.

“So, where are we going?”

Damian gave him whole description of the place Daniel left in his file and Todd whistled.

“It’s literally the fucking worst place in whole neighborhood to leave anything.” He explained “It was some fuckers gang hideout up until two weeks ago when I busted it with my boys so now everyone is looking out for it to get it for themselves. After someone finally gets their dirty hands on it there is mandatory cleaning to make sure previous owners didn’t left any fucking surprises. Then all precious weapons Danny left start making rounds underground and soon he is fucked.”

“Let’s hope we’re first to find it then.”

They did in fact found it undisturbed which was relieving. What was less relieving was the amount of weaponry that Daniel had collected in just this one place. Like he tried to prepare them against whole army with another army on their own. Thankfully he prepared it in a way that was convenient to transport on motorcycle but the quantity made it dangerous to travel at high speed.

Before they could came to agreement whether Todd should make rounds leaving Damian to ensure rest doesn’t disappear or should they try to get everything at once and just pray for it to go well, their comms cackled to life.

“Red Hood, are you still where you were planning to be? There is some big fight east, up to three streets from your location. Lar and I are approaching as fast as we can but I thought it would be better if you handled it.”

Damian did not pout at being left out, don’t be ridiculous.

“He’ll know that something is up if you show up in my turf in the middle of the day Demon Brat.”

It was reasonable, he couldn’t argue with that but he still was not to keen on being left out.

“I’m on my way, tell Lar that I’m handling it and go on a snack break or something.”

“Or something, got it Hood.”

Todd returned half an hour later, when Damian finished setting up all boxes for transportation. They returned to the Batcave in the timely manner and started setting up everything on work table to destruction. Cain joined them soon after, explaining that Richard got sudden call and had to go back to Bludhaven which was a great loss, Brown had some school group project she had to take care for which was a medium loss and Drake got put down for a nap which wasn’t loss at all.

Damian was not sure where Cain found baseball bats but he figured she properly assumed they were perfect tools for wrecking havoc. He caught it like his katana, which earned him some snickers from Todd, but he soon proved that it was acceptable way to wield such tool while breaking down high tech weaponry.

It brought him surprising amount to satisfaction. Just mindlessly raising his hands and hitting. Raising and hitting. Raising and hitting. Each hit destroying another piece of equipment meant to harm Daniel. Meant to harm his brother because if anyone deserved such title it was boy who faced Mother without an ounce of fear and laughed her in the face to make sure that he, Damian, felt comfortable.

Person like this should not be harmed. Not on Damian’s watch as some of his siblings liked to put it.

Raise and hit. Raise and hit. Dodge flying metal piece. Raise and hit.

He almost missed two voices that announced return of two daytime vigilantes. He didn’t, he was raised better but in privacy of his thoughts he could admit he nearly did. He should up his situational awareness training again. He was getting sloppy while living with his father.

Sometimes he wondered if it was actually bad thing.

“You’re taking a nap first thing after your out of costume dude.”

“ ‘need tooo add smthing to m’ f’les on B’tco-” he was slurring.

“You can do it when you can actually see letters straight squirt.” Todd interrupted.

If Damian hadn’t seen Drake on his research sprees and didn’t knew it was typical symptom of sleep deprivation, he would assume Daniel was drunk or drugged. Especially when he came inside swaying. It was like his first time in the cave all over again but then he had been homeless and delirious from blood loss and/or drugs because he had kept showing up for rogue fights with torn jeans and dirty t-shirt as his only armor. Good thing that he had resumed to evacuation duty that was sometimes lacking in their confrontations with the villains. Despite that (or maybe because of) others had been concerned over his well-being until he stayed under their care after lucky bullet got him in the side.

It was good thing he didn’t seem to drive any vehicles in such state. Damian put his bat on a table and resumed to observe.

Daniel took a moment to peer his mask of his face before turning to face them.

“Oh, hey guys I didn’t know you were there” he said with sheepish smile, while rubbing back of his neck. He made a few steps to get closer before he tripped over one of stray pieces of metal they send flying in wake of their destruction. It should not be able to trip him, not unless he was already greatly out of balance. He barely caught himself from falling face first to the ground. Damian started to seriously consider what were the chances that his brother got drugged or concussed while on the patrol and Thomas just haven’t realized.

He had to admit, they were not too high, Daniel was most likely just absolutely exhausted.

“Your lack of awareness of your surroundings is worrying, go to repose Fenton.” Damian was not ashamed of calling Daniel his brother and admitting that he felt enough companionship with him to use his first name, however for some reason older boy was greatly opposed to his full name. For this reason he retracted to calling him by his surname since he would not lower himself to use childish nicknames.

“It’s Demon brat’s way of saying ‘you look and move like shit, go the fuck to sleep’ if your brain is to fried to understand that.”

“Stop it guys, it’s not that bad re-”

“We all. Worried. You. Sleeping and standing. Go rest.” Cain interrupted which seemed to finally made Daniel realize that they were serious and his state was bad, to say the least.

“Damian look out!” Signal yelled. There was nothing to look out for.

Then Todd hit some sort of gun, somehow making it shot in the process. Shot in Damian’s direction to be more specific. He dodged it out of reflex which turned out as not necessary when transparent green shield appeared in front of him. Daniel was by his side seconds later, much more awake, visibly checking him for any injuries blast could have caused. When he made sure he was well (as if Damian would let something like this hit him), older boy spun around with clearly uncontrolled swing to look at the table and finally assess the situation. Even while looking just at his back, Robin knew he didn’t like what he saw.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He shrieked with disquieting undertone to his voice. He jumped to catch bat that Cain was swinging at yet another piece of equipment. That one looked like boomerang. Honestly, how much of it was there?

Too much, but that was clear from the start.

“Getting rid of this shit” Todd just shrugged, trying to hit but his bat too was stopped but this time by ectoplasmic arm and not real Daniel’s one. It was much weaker than the shield he made moments before, slightly blinking and dithering.

“Why?!” he whined loudly even though he not discreetly leaned over work table for support.

“You left it for us as a clear way of testing if you can trust us. We are destroying it to prove to you that we are in fact safe to be around and we will never use it against you.”

That visibly gave him a pause. Then his face turned from utter confusion into absolute horror as he took few staggered steps back.

“Oh, no, no, no, no…” he muttered, grabbing his hairs. “Oh, Ancients I messed up so badly.” was probably not meant for their ears. All other four vigilantes exchanged concerned glances. This was not reaction they expected in the slightest.

“Why do think that way?” Thomas asked quietly with hands raised like he was trying to mimic character from movie about dinosaurs they watched during last ‘Family Movie Night’.

“I didn’t gave it to you to test you or whatever!” He flailed his hands around, clearly on verge of some sort panic or anxiety attack. “I gave it to you because I know you’ll need it!”

“You said that all ghosts are locked in the Ghost Zone and you personally made sure of that before you left.” Damian stated with clear question under the surface.

“I did, unless Vlad gets sloppy there is no way ghost without portal powers gets to this side.”

It looked like the question was not clear enough for Daniel’s mush of sleep deprived brain.

“Then against who you think we will need it?”

“ME!” ghost cried without hesitation. Everyone tensed.

“Daniel, is it declaration of you going rogue?” Damian asked cautiously.

“Don’t call me Daniel.”

“Answer my question Fenton.”

“I’m not going rogue-”

“Then why the fu-” Todd interrupted but was ignored.

“- but I will. You need to be prepared for that.” He finished with dark expression but not the one Damian saw on Grandfather when he was plotting or frankly anyone actually planning to do something sinister. It was more like expression of general before hard battle, when he knows how bad it will be but can’t do anything to prevent it.

They stood in silence after that declaration until Cain of all people found her words again.

“You are not bad. What do you mean?” her voice was soft, body language as non threatening as she could manage.

Daniel blinked then shook his head few times as if he just realized that he let slip something he didn’t mean to tell.

“That’s it, I’m not lucid enough to have this conversation. We will talk after I rest.” He announced and stormed out of the Batcave, still in his Lar uniform, as dramatically as he could while he barely kept himself up right.

They waited for a moment.

“I’ll go insure he doesn’t pass out on his way to his room.” Damian said.

Daniel in fact made it to his room unharmed and actually gotten to sleep (allegedly, Damian was nearly sure older boy was crying before he was picked by Morpheus).

They did not talk about accident in the cave.

*****

Last part in next reblog because Tumblr is screaming at me for reaching limits

DC X DP Prompt #4

It turns out that one of the things Danny inherited from Bruce was his need to make contingency plans.

Or: Danny's family finds out that he has contingency plans for all of them, including if Danny turns evil and how to permanently stop him

Bruce feels a certain way when he finds out his son has a plan to basically commit suicide.

[liberalexhexdecimal]

The Truth lies before the Eye!

For those of you, interested in Black Magic or Magick, or the Occult Practices (meaning not doing sensless Things on Cemetaries and insulting religious Feelings of Persons), or those who heard of activating their pineal gland to open the third Eye, or even those who work in the summoning of Deamons by invocation or evocation, I have written these Informations without the purpose of being true, or make you a magician in 21 Days, rather it is a collection of theoretics without practical usage, but I hope to share something I call "Aha-Effect" with the community who is kindly invited to let us participate on their studies and points of view.

First of All: I do not believe in Magical Technics like Raising the Dead, getting Rich by practicing Magic or even join socalled Circles or Societies-because if Dead could be Reversed why doing it instead of avoid dying? Getting Power by Paying Money works not for the one paying only for the one getting paid (see like Blackjack -if you play luck, you will have bad luck, if you play bad luck or simply not you will have good luck-at least better than you might think) There is no Practical Medidation or Training Units that are able to open your "third eye", because there is no such third eye which must be activated. It is simply a Synonymous Term for your Brain - Sitting between the Ears and the Eyes in the Center of the Head. So Open that Eye means "Use your Brain" and do everything in concious ways. The Pineal Gland is this Part often referred to as the third Eye,but it is simply a Part of your Brain, that divides left and right part, mainly the spinal cord from or to the evolutionary newer parts (lastly the Frontal Cortex) - so i call it the old Chicken or Snake Plisssken because the only Function is: Deactivate the Parts of your Brain, that are absolutely useless (and most of them are - lol ) at least in special Situations. So the Term EYE is semicorrect because it operates by light and darkness, but gets these information from the ordinary sensomotorik Organs your boring eyes (the other 2 of course).

Now the interesting Part. at least for Magicians,Tricksters,Secret Service, TV Ad Designer of useless Products and other things you should be aware of-Samples:

Eyes tell it is dark at least to see something. Pineal Gland -ok thanks, then it is night, produce melatonin and make you tired. Is that good as your Basic Brain Part? No- it is absolutely thrustworthy but doesnt trust his ownself. Good? Yes - because it is day and somone took your two nonmagical Eyeballs and then says to you: Be a Jedi or Zen Monk. not a dull dumb Eyeuser believing everything he sees. Ok - and because of this circumstance we have 2 Eyes connected crosswise to a corresponding other Brainpart(left to right and vice versa) and in the center controlled by the big unbeliever Pineal Gland(The Router for Techies) It uses Neurotransmitter Hormones to communicate by the Synaptic Parts of Braincells and orchestrating everything from fear and pain the most important emotions to motivate you to run or fight instead of google first then talk about it. No Pain is a Top motivator to make you stop thinking of Art and Culture, Cooking Gourmet Food or Luxury Needings. We have a Problem - Playground is closed - Solution is run-kill-eat even raw-yes you made a backwardturn to primitive Days, but yeah - its all what counts at least now - why make your Mindfucked with Nietzsche Nihilism - can be fun/deadly depressive funeral) but the worm is the Commander and says to Captain Wiseart of Ästhetics /(Be gone and let the Proven DNA solve the Situation. then we call you back to biz)

[little-soldiers]

OKWOW this is super well developed and interesting!!!! (response under the cut so we dont make a Do You Love The Color Of Team Rancher post)

Okay so! [hehe did you get those flowers from wallflowers or are we just on the same wavelength] The house thing! That’s so good, especially in the context of double life where their house was so important to them-- it could’ve also been why Jimmy was so calm? Like, yes, their ‘nest’ was burning down, but all of their friends came together to help them put it out, so maybe it was reminiscent of a wedding to him? So he stuck around? JIMMY TOTALLY POSTURES LIKE A BIRD YEAH. HIS FANCY HAT IN BOTH EMPIRES SEASONS... he reminds me a little bit of that one gif of the black and blue bird that looks like this :() Yeah... yeah... they’re definitely an Acts of Servicers and that’s so sweet.... my heart... Oooh open plan!!! So that they can fly in / always know where each other are, make sure they don’t get separated from their flock... eueueue Ok i REALLY LOVE your netherborn stuff btw. Starting off with the ring... I do think theirs would be very misshapen, but Jimmy would probably be OVER THE MOON anyway (shiny thing made just for him). The vow, Let us both burn for eternity, reminds me of something I read one time. It was along the lines of you can’t just put a coal fire out, a mine caught on fire in the 1800s and is still burning today.... arghwesalkduof they may be Doomed but they’re going to keep going... I love this bit so much. ALSO THE WAY ITS MISSHAPEN REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF THE ORIGINAL RANCH..... AHHHHHHHHHHH Ooh that reminds me of tango’s s5 base / s9 starter base... he would he would. You get it. Oh my ghost yeah yeah yeah!!! He turned icy because he missed his rancher..... and he’d do so many sweet things for him... TEAM JIMMY HE JUST LIKE ME FRFR!!!

Oh... Imagine, not just jimmy singing when he’s happy, but when Tango’s had a bad day he does it to cheer him up or help him sleep... and the bird noises!!! ooohhh maybe a bit of his insecurity about it could be from that he’s a canary? He doesn’t like to chirp that often because it reminds him of their inevitable march towards death, but tango helps him accept it and enjoy the time they have..... Aww... tango laying on Jimmy’s lap like a rumbling heating pad... would be great for muscle aches after a long day of building, or a bad day mentally..... :shakyeyes: Thank you for sharing these with me!! I love eating brain worms and theyre super fun to consider.... :)

So my dude I found my area of Netherborn/Avian lore along with stuff pertaining to ranchers want me to to talk about it to ya.

SURE!!! it might take me a bit to see it since i’ve been pretty busy lately but i’d love to see rancher thoughts!!!

[jmdbjk]

They are fine.

Rest easy, they are busy either enjoying a little time off OR working their asses off OR possibly a little of both: work hard/play hard, that’s a good mantra.

I know there’s a lot of fictional drama on the timeline and whatnot...you have to trust me and just ignore it. Jimin and Jungkook are fine. Trust them.

It has only been a little over two weeks since we’ve seen them. And JK popped into Insta to say hello the other night. Be patient. 

Think about it: he has mentioned Jimin each time he was answering questions on his instagram stories. Just like during a V Live when 45 million comments are streaming by as the V Live is going on, I promise you, JK had 45 million questions to choose from. Ok, maybe 45 million is an exaggeration, but he HAD A LOT! He chose to say something about Jimin when the opportunity arose. 

"But he also said the same thing about Tae the last time,” you say?

Yes, he did. Think about that. How many ridiculous things do you think he had to read through about Tae (from the cult) to finally see one that wasn’t stupid to comment about? 

It was one that was identical to the one he answered regarding Jimin. Which he answered first. If the one he answered about Tae proves something, what does it prove? Then all the ones he answered about Jimin proved much more. If the ones he answered about Jimin are fan service, then so was the one about Tae. 

I’m gonna tell you this, Jungkook’s not into fan service. In fact, none of them do it. They have been wayyyy past that point for years and years. Jungkook is allowed to say stuff about his bestie, Tae, and mean it.

They play around on stage, they play around off-stage. Because they want to, because they like to have fun with each other, tease each other. Especially Jimin and Jungkook. They have fun at work, then they go have fun after work. GOOD FOR THEM! 

Judging from Jimin and Jungkook’s behavior while they were in Las Vegas, from what we saw with our own eyes on V Lives and during the concerts as well as several first hand stories from workers at a restaurant of them being together after hours, to watching Jimin wait in the car for Jungkook at the airport after landing in Seoul...THEY ARE FINE! Don’t worry. Don’t start doubting. Trust them.

During these lulls, the worms start crawling out of the woodwork and start trying to dangle their twisted ideas in front of everyone, especially dragging up stuff they’ve twisted from 5, 6, 7 years...A LONG TIME AGO, because that’s all they have and especially lately, their made up stories are getting shot full of holes BY JUNGKOOK AND JIMIN THEMSELVES!! Honestly, I can’t wrap my brain around those idiots and their intense desire to be stupid. Just ignore them.  

Trust the guys, we will see them again soon. We will see behind the scenes, we will see V Lives, we will see lots of stuff. Trust them. 

[jangofctts]

Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)    

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT  

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace. 

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy. 

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.    

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.   

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.” 

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.       

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it. 

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.     

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…  

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.” 

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.  

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.” 

You smile. “Lovely.” 

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like  a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.  

                                        -=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality. 

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.     

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.” 

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—  

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home. 

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.  

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare. 

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement. 

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.” 

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors. 

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.” 

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.        

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.  

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—   

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.  

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot. 

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away. 

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle. 

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder. 

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.   

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.” 

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.     

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.” 

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat. 

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.      

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—        

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder. 

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind. 

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile. 

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.  

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll. 

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit. 

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak. 

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement. 

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses. 

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short. 

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”  

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more. 

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains. 

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.         

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his  calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself. 

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist.  Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes. 

Fuck yeah.    

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock. 

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh. 

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—    

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge. 

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.     

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.   

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.” 

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.   

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.   

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation. 

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.” 

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from  your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.   

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark. 

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now. 

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.      

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.  

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?   

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs. 

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question. 

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command. 

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.   

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.    

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff. 

Fuck, you need more.   

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.    

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight. 

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you. 

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure. 

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth. 

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.    

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.        

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.  

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“ 

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.” 

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs. 

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba���s shoulder.  

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days. 

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.          

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs. 

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much. 

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”      

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.” 

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.       

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.   

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.    

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat. 

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.” 

There we go. 

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes. 

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness. 

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile. 

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep. 

taglist: @goldafterglow @djxrxn @velvetmel0n @steeeeeeeviebb   @stargazingcarol @ohiobluetip @anxiety-riddled-mando @absurdthirst @thesoftdumbass @huliabitch @max--phillips @silverfish-kingdom @krissology @teaofpeaches @pettyprocrastination @nelba @beskars @jango-fettish @corrupt-fvcker @maybege @auty-ren @legally-a-bastard @bigdickdindjarin @thesparkleslugs @cryptid-candy @mandowhorian @pascaliprincess @mitchi-c @vesperstalksclones @cmakars @cptnbvcks @whewchiles @leias-left-hair-bun @astrochellie @angryares @rise-my-angel @stardust-galaxies @phoenixhalliwell @samhollandssweaters @blue-writes-a03 @hdlynnslibrary @darthadeline @calamity-queen @luxurybeskar @justanotherblonde23 @book-hoardingdragon @fahrenheit-not @princessxkenobi @skdubbs @ben-is-a-hoe @3strogen @chasingdreamer @weebblossom @bobaandthefetts​

sorry if I missed you AH!!!!

[seacollectsrivers]

HI OFMD LIVE REACTION NOTES INCOMING

EPISODE NINE LEGGO

"Act of Grace" -> "A Mercy" prob not connected but hhhh terror brain go brrrr

rest under the read more!

The opening flag is the same one as in ep 1, and it is being TREAD ON by NAVY >:((

I love the Revenge crew sm jkfhgk

GHOST. HAUNTING. IMMEDIATELY.

O fuck i man of course they are but i didn't realise they were still on board Stede's ship. Shifting of power, of roles.

SWEETIE. BABE. I LOVE THEIR LOVE.

I'm so curious about Frenchie hahaha what's his story!! He's been in service, he's way more superstitious than any of the others, he's "born for this kind of espionage". What's up!!

Are they gonna. Are they gonna do some fuckery. Art of fuckery!!!!

Frenchie hhhh i love you but oh my god.

FANFICTION

oh no stede…… oh nooooo

BUT also 👀 The story is true, the story is untrue!!

true love is taking the fall for the other's crime

yeah why WOULD he lie, hm, STEDE

i'm dying i'm dead

i hate these gay bitches (i dont)

the flashbacks without any sound that only last for a second or so are so good. they did it in earlier episodes too.

IZZY IS THERE. OH MY GOD??????

The way they've placed themselves is very good and ofc reminiscent of actual court. Judge/navy high up, pirates/accused way low

i see their hostage 👀

oh no izzy…….. :(((( not captain hands……. friend of the crown???? i'm so worried about himmmmmm

not the fucking wave fhgjkdjfkh WITH THE GLOVED HAND TOO i'll die

"he gave us up" yeah he did :(((

aw stede. you did Mary dirty but you don't deserve death, babe

PUNCH YEAH OKAY

LOYALTY TO YOUR CAPTAIN

the way the crew cover their eyes :((

"destroy yourself"

HUMANE WAY see i'm hmmm. thoughts. about izzy and how he never like…. kills stede. despite the multiple opportunities.

AAAH they're going for privateer Stede NOW omg

oh shit!! real pirates, he's from my world, rigidity of class, head full!!

Lucius ;__; <3

oooh my god the plant has GROWN!! it's a real plant! symbolism!

They love him!! the crew loves stede!! heart full!!

fucccck me ok so. izzy did this so ed wouldnt destroy himself. and he seriously i guess couldnt see how much stede means to ed now, so he completely overlooked this possibility: a destruction of blackbeard through legality.

lmaoooo the law works as intended and admiral is big mad.

"ten human years?"

"you really don't have to do this" "yeah i know i don't" hello they love each other!!

idk you wrought this a bit, izzy

oh an X!

oh noo. back in society = losing all his individuality.

OH WORM. STEDE IS A GHOST.

OH NO HDFHKH BEARD

aaaaaah the losing of identityyyyyy. stede is a ghost blackbeard has literally lost his beard.

i do love how resigned ed is. not even resigned, he's right down accepting. this is his retirement.

izzy jesus christ jfghkghgkjh

not izzy's revenge 😭

STEDE MAKES ED HAPPY

at this point i let out a noise so concerning my cat came in to check on me :)

if stede blows this i'm gonna. explode.

he didn't blow it he said THE ONLY THING i'm still gonna explode :)

NOW he wants to escape aaaaaaaAAAA

TWO LIVES. MAKE THEIR OWN LIFE.

Olu it's you :)

hhhh why do so many stories go this route. please ofmd show how bad of a choice "the only good captain hates being a captain" is

they cut to the crew and i'm normal and then they cut to the Boys and i keep REMEMBERING aaaaaaaaaa

i feel like. this isn't gonna go well. :(

i. dont. like. this.

o fuck

is this not the same path where Stede first fought Izzy, for the hostages? probably just that they don't have THAT many locations but 👀

"Stede Bonnet is not a human" yeah he's a GHOST

"to ruin" for LOVE

!!! IS IT JIM!!!!!!

OH I MISUNDERSTOOD damn dude just tripped okay

oh noooooooooooooooooooo fuck

wow, well presumptious Ed. i get that you're a bit heartbroken now but damn. you can't just like. take the position back again.

NO WAY NOOOO STEDE

oh my god Mary hello. with the women's club. alright alright alright alright.

they're BOTH SO PRESUMPTIOUS FHDGJDS you can't just,,,,, fit back into your old life,,,,,

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Escaping Expulsion" From The Owl House

Salutations random people on the internet who most likely won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Do you wanna know what I love the most about The Owl House? The writers waste no time getting to the good stuff.

Things like Willow working things out with Amity, Lumity, Lilith's redemption, and Luz's fight with Belos are stuff that most shows would drag out and wait upon using until several seasons down the line. Most of them for the final season. And yet, it all happens in the first! The writers somehow knew what the fans exactly wanted and gave them just that before they even had to ask.

Take "Escaping Expulsion," for example, as it has some great plot points and ideas I thought would happen later in the season and maybe even near the end. But it's only episode TWO of the new season, and I'm appreciative of it for that reason alone.

But explaining the good stuff this episode delivers requires spoilers, so if you haven't watched the episode yet (even though you definitely have at this point), I recommend that you do so. Now let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Blight Industries: Huh. I'll be the first to admit: I would have never expected that the main reason why the Blights are rich is because of their technological advancements. Large in part of how the Boiling Isles is a fantasy world, and rarely do you see technology taking place in a setting such as that. Still, points for total expectation subversion added with some pretty cool tech, I might add.

Odalia Blight: It's nice to put a face to the name I've grown to hate with a fiery passion. Now I can update my dartboard!

But to tell you the truth, it feels weird saying I like someone so vile. I mean, the woman is a manipulative, smarmy b-word who nearly killed Luz. Anybody who does that last part deserves to go on my s**t list! I despise her with the same fiery passion I've had since "Understanding Willow" premiered...and it's that reason why I like her.

Because here's the thing: Characters and people are two different things. If Odalia existed in real life, she better hope that I never meet her. But as a character whose purpose is to have the audience hate her, she succeeds with flying colors. It's the same reason why I consider it unfair to hate an episode like "Something Ventured and Someone Framed" because Mattholomule exists. I get it but understand that hating him is his purpose. It's the same with Odalia. I love her, but only because I love to hate her.

Alador Blight: Wow. I guess Alador really is the lesser of two evils.

By the way, keep in mind that I said "lesser of two evils" and not "the nice one." I don't care how adorable it is to see him get distracted by a butterfly. He's still an abusive figure who stood aside as Luz fought for her life against the Abomitron and still goes along with Odalia's plans despite how heinous they are. And whenever I remember how he treated Amity in "Understanding Willow" as well--

Also, don't make him neurodivergent so he can seem redeemable. It is painfully obvious that he is just exhausted after hours of toiling away in his lab working on his inventions to the point that his brain is beyond fried.

Now, seeing that I've dismissed the argument about how Alador is the nice one, let's actually talk about his character. Because I can see what Dana Terrace meant when she said that he's interesting. He's not explicitly as awful as Odalia, as he mostly seems to be in his own little world half the time. Despite that, Alador still shows signs of being just as dismissive of Amity in general. You see this as he focuses on how her strength shows signs of Amity being a potential coven leader instead of noticing how his daughter nearly died to his own invention. Alador doesn't manipulate, but he doesn't love his daughter in a way a father should either. I'm very intrigued by this route for his character, and I can't wait to see what is done next with him.

Amity’s Amulet: My heart sank when I realized the true purpose behind Amity's amulet. The thought that Odalia found a way to literally be in Amity's head at all times...I hate that. I mean, I love it because it's A+ storytelling and symbolism, BUT I F**KING HATE IT!

Amity in General: And seeing how we're already talking about Amity, let's dive into the fact that "Escaping Expulsion" is easily her best outing so far in the series. I say this because it really puts to the test Amity's dedication to being a part of the group. You can tell by her expressions and Mae Whitman's performance that Amity so desperately wants to help her friends, but she can't due to being afraid of her mother's wrath. Which doesn't surprise me, given what we know about Odalia so far. But what does surprise me is that Amity stands up to Odalia in this very same episode. I expected it for sure, but most likely at the end of the season, due to most shows dragging out a similar concept for drama's sake. However, as I said, the writers don't waste time giving the fans what they want. So, yeah, Amity defies her mother in the very same episode we're officially introduced to her. And it's totally believable, as Amity has been fighting her parent's control ever since Luz literally showed her the light after "Covention" (click here if you don't believe me). It's yet another impressive showcase of Amity's character development and how she's leagues ahead of other redeemable characters who would go through five more episodes like this before getting to the point.

Luz in General: But enough about Amity. For now, let's talk about the actual best character of the series!

Just like Amity, Luz is on top form in "Escaping Expulsion." She is quick to call 'applesauce' about Odalia and Alador expelling the Hex-Squad and is smart enough to figure out the deal Odalia is worming her way into making. Several people classify Luz as stupid, and while she definitely leaps before she looks at times, this episode proves that Luz isn't going to fall for the sweet talk that someone like Odalia offers. As reckless as she can be, Luz is still intelligent enough to know what someone like Odalia wants and cuts to the chase despite knowing the woman can't be trusted. Still, Luz going through with the deal anyways is fantastic character work for her as it shows her dedication to the people she cares about. It hurts my heart to see Luz get all beat up from Alador's inventions, but her willingness to put up with it for her friends is an act of service I wouldn't have expected from anyone else. "Escaping Expulsion" may be more centered around Amity, but it still proves why Luz earns her spot for one of my favorite characters.

Learning How Glyphs Work: Another solid aspect of The Owl House is that the writers find brilliant ways for world-building and explaining the rules of the Boiling Isles. Take this episode's b-plot, for instance. Eda and Lilith need to learn how to do Luz's version of magic, so having an entire section of the episode dedicated to them figuring it out is a perfect outlet to explain how glyphs work in the first place. Although, I have some tribulations with this subplot that I'll get into with the dislikes. But I still consider this a brilliant workaround to explain glyphs, even if specific executions could be handled better.

The Fairy Pie: Not only is this well-crafted dark humor, and not only is it adorable as hell, but it also shows how Amity has calmed down with her feelings toward Luz. She still blushes when handing over the fairy pie, but it is certainly more subdued in comparison to "Wing it Like Witches." I like to think the time off from her (and our) favorite weirdo helped cool down those emotions a bit, but that doesn't mean she won't get slightly flustered every now and again. Because as much as I adore seeing cool and collective, I'm still very much a fan of Disaster Amity due to how cute it is.

Principle Bump: "This character is underappreciated!"

"That character doesn't get enough love!"

YOU WANNA KNOW WHO'S UNDERAPPRECIATED AND DOESN'T GET ENOUGH LOVE?! PRINCIPAL GOSH DANG BUMP, THAT'S WHO!

So many kids' shows focus on how educators are the bad guy who treats students poorly because they love seeing children suffer. But that's not Bump! Sure, he made a misstep in "The First Day," but for the most part, he really cares for his students and hopes that they work hard to be their better selves. So when he's forced to send Luz, Gus, and Willow away, he's genuinely saddened by it to the point where he breaks down crying! On top of being wholesome, Bump missing his students is another example that a character shouldn't be written as evil just because they run a school. Sure, there are scumbag teachers and principals out there, but for others, they're a lot like Bump: People who show admiration and respect to their students rather than ridicule because a principle "just doesn't get it." And I appreciate Bump all the more for it.

Gus and Willow: It feels weird that these two basically got sidelined, especially since they have a stake in the plot as well, but it's understandable. "Escaping Expulsion" is clearly more Amity-centered, and with Luz being the main character, it would also be odd if she didn't get more of the focus than her friends. Having them do more would have been great, but what they've already accomplished is pretty decent anyway. They show how much they're on the same page as Luz when trying to figure out a way to sneak back into Hexide, Willow is still the best voice of reason when saying no one will be killed through their plans, and Gus wins the comedic highlights in the episode. While I would have loved that they did more, I'm perfectly fine with what we got. Besides, this is only episode two of Season Two. We got nineteen more episodes to go to focus on these two.

King: Ok, now, this is the version of King I like to see. A character that mocks Eda as if they're equals and acts as a reluctant voice of reason. This episode shows King more at his best and is a major step above what we've seen in "Separate Tides."

Lilith: ...Yeah, f**k it. I like Lilith.

Personally, I would have preferred seeing her dragged through the coals at least a few episodes, but that's judging the show for what I want. Not what it is. And as is...It's fine. Lilith has a great dynamic with the rest of the Owl House, it's honestly adorable seeing her refer to Luz as a teacher, and that scene where she makes presents out of ice for Hooty is all kinds of wholesome. I'd say your enjoyment of Lilith highly depends on how forgiving you are, and if you think her splitting the curse is enough of a gesture, you probably won't mind her as much. The execution of her redemption really could have used more time in the oven, but Lilith is still a decent character regardless, so what's to complain about.

Luz Making the Abomination Have a Cat Face: ...Luz...I f**king missed you.

DON'T EVER LEAVE FOR THAT LONG AGAIN!

(Also, I just love that this is all Amity needed to know Luz was in trouble)

Hop Pop Cameo: He's on the cover of one of the books Willow's dad lifts up. Which is extra cute given how Dana Terrace and Matt Braley (creator of Amphibia) are close friends in real life.

Willow’s Dad Pretending Not to See Anything: One single action defines the type of man this guy is. He's the fun and understanding dad!

Gus, Willow, and Amity Arguing How to Break In: This little quarrel just shows how much these three need Luz. Without someone to keep the peace and bring up compromises, these idiots would have just kept arguing all night.

In addition to that, this clash over ideas acts as a showcase for who these characters are. Willow is careful and smart, so she's going for the option more unlikely to get them caught. Amity is brash and to the point, so she's going for the route that gets them inside as soon as possible. And then there's Gus, who's young and naive, so his plan sounds like something out of a cartoon. The odds of any of these plans working are highly debatable, but seeing these characters with clashing personalities and ideas is a ton of fun to watch regardless.

Edric and Emira Helping: There's not much to add here. It's just another sweet scene that makes me so glad that the writers decided to make Ed and Em more like supporting characters than minor antagonists like "Lost in Language" made fans think they would be.

(Amity throwing the "Hex me" signs back at Edric is just the cherry on top).

“Stay away from my Luz!”: ...What the f**k do you want me to say that? It's f**king perfect!

Luz Catching Feelings for Amity: ...Huh. Neat.

...

...Alright, let's move on.

Luz Wanting to Take a Nap After--Yeah, I can't do it. Not even for the joke.

WAH-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO! MU! TU! AL! PINING! AH-HAHAHA!

THIS! This is more of that good s**t I'm talking about! Due to being so used to other shows going for the slow burn when writing the endgame romance, I was expecting Luz to catch feelings halfway through the season, even at the end of it. But near the beginning?! That is something I am more than ok with!

And much like Amity standing up to her parents in this episode, Luz catching feelings this early on is totally believable. Many fans have already analyzed how Luz's love language is "Acts of Service," which I'm somewhat sure is romantic gestures. Meaning that I f**king challenge you to find a grander gesture than holding back a literal killing machine while swooping down like a knight in shining armor! Oh, wait, you can't. BECAUSE THERE ISN'T ANY!

But by far, the best--the BEST--thing that can come from this is the dramatic irony! We, the audience, know that Luz and Amity like each other, but they don't. So the constant failings as these two fools try to work out their romantic feelings for one another is something I cannot wait to see in all its glory.

This is one of the best things that could have come out of the episode, and while it doesn't mean Lumity is canon, it is definitely closer than ever before. And I'm excited about all of it!

Luz Wanting to Take a Nap After Getting Home: I adore this because there's no one way that this can be interpreted. Either it's because Luz is exhausted after nearly getting killed for the fifteenth time that month, or it's because Luz is overwhelmed about having a crush on Amity...or both. Most likely both.

Belos Wanting The Abomatrons: Wow, what an ominous ending to the episode! I'm sure it won't come into play at all in the future...The season finale is going to hurt, isn't it?

WHAT I DISLIKED

Gus’ Growth Spurt: I mean...that's just weird. Gus suddenly being almost as tall as the others is a change so jarring that I feel like an explanation other than "witch puberty" is required. I get that they wanted to explain away why Issac Ryan Brown's voice got deep this season, 'cause puberty's a b**ch. But sometimes I feel like it's best to just ignore it, like with how Phineas and Ferb or Steven Universe just goes along with the fact that VAs tend to grow up when the characters themselves remain ageless.

Eda is Kinda Stupid in this One: It's not just me, right? Because I feel like Eda is more careful in the past than she is in this episode. She's been as reckless as Luz is at times, sure, but carelessly screwing around with magic when she has no idea how it works? I can maybe see King doing that, but not Eda. Just seeing her act dumber than usual is something that doesn't sit right with me.

Lilith Explaining Her Glyph Magic: I don't mind this. Glyph magic is pretty confusing, so having Lilith explain how it works to Eda and the audience is something I can understand. My issue, however, lies in how they did this.

Why, in the name of all that is holy, would Lilith explain her theory after the fact. It would be much more natural if she explained while saving King, but doing it after comes across as more forced than it should. Which is a shame because this series is usually on point when explaining how things work in the Boiling Isles.

And...That's about all the complaints I have with this episode. Which are nothing but nitpicks and possibly personal preferences.

IN CONCLUSION

If I'm willing to forgive and forget, I would give "Escaping Expulsion" a well-earned A+. But I'm not, so it's going to be another solid A. And, I mean, if you complain about that...there's something wrong with you.

"Escaping Expulsion" delivers on quite a bit of what fans want to see on top of giving these great character moments that show why we love these casts of oddballs and weirdos. I wouldn't say it reached perfection, but it still carries the winning streak that this new season has so far. Meaning there's no escaping the fact that Season Two is off to a better start than the first.

(Although, the fact that we got two solid As in a row means that we're in for a stinker real soon, doesn't it?)