#simply because they don't trust their brain enough to not lie to them about it

[tachvintlogic]

Summary: Wes finds Nightwing after trying and failing to convince the police to do something about a metahuman trafficking ring after he's done all the detective work for them. Nightwing is so impressed that he offers Wes a job. Wes is not impressed with the pitch.

Words: 2462

“I knew it!”

There aren’t many things worse to hear than that when you’re without your mask in an alley you assumed was empty. NIghtwing turned to the sound and saw a tall, red-headed man with a camcorder who looked like he had no idea how dangerous being outside in Gotham was here at this time of night.

“Wes Weston, junior reporter for the Gotham Gazette,” he said offering a hand.

Nightwing hesitantly took it. “Nightwing, pleasure,” he said and then left go. “So I hope you understand the importance of keeping this quiet.”

“Oh course Mr. Grayson. I would say that you should be more careful about concealing your identity, but that advice would have been more useful years ago. Though there is something I want that you can help me with.”

“An exclusive interview?”

“No, actually. I don’t have a story that would need an interview from Dick Grayson or Nightwing, not yet anyway.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and held up it. “I’ve been investigating a metahuman trafficking ring that’s been operating in Gotham. So far I can link them to the disappearances of seven metahumans in the past two months, but I suspect that may be more. This is a basic summary of what I found.”

Nightwing took the paper and skimmed it. The evidence was compelling, for both the existence of the trafficking ring and their methods of operation. Mr. Weston even had narrowed down the most likely places they were operating out of. “Were you just carrying this around in the hopes you would run into us?”

“No, I just got back from going to the police about it. They didn’t care.”

“Why not?”

“Probably because none of the victims I’ve been able to link to trafficking were white.”

He would take to Gordon later to reprimand whoever it was Mr. Weston talked to. “Is this everything you have?”

“Nope. I can send you all my evidence if you have an email.”

“Yes, that would be useful.”

After saying their goodbyes and Wes left the alley, Nightwing put his mask back on. “Did you get all that Oracle?”

“Yep, check the building on 20 Avenue first, I’ll coordinate with the others to check the other locations they might be hiding.”

“You think it’s real?”

“He certainly is who he says he is. Proceed with caution in case it’s a trap.”

Nightwing smirked. “I always do.”

It ended up not being a trap. Dick and Helena scored the locations where the traffickers were holding people and rescued 15 people, but two of the victims that Wes had identified weren’t there. From Helena’s interrogation of the traffickers she found, they were already out of the city. It was disappointing, but the raid had given them plenty of leads, so it was only a matter of time before they found the rest.

Nightwing was resting up a few bruises he got while Oracle was following up on their leads and going through the information that Wes had emailed. Turns out he couldn’t fit everything he had onto one piece of paper.

“He was very thorough. He’s basically done half of my job for me,” said Oracle, “I can’t believe the police didn’t want to look at all this.” She took another sip of coffee. It was her fifth one in the last hour. There was a lot to go through.

“Their loss,” said Nightwing, “how optimistic are you that we’ll find the last two?”

“With a big enough team, we could probably take down their entire operation within a week. We’ll find them.”

“When it’s done I’m going to give him an interview as Nightwing about this. Kid deserves it.”

Oracle laughed. “You got that right. He reminds me a lot of Tim when he started. We could use him on the team.”

“Well if one of us is going to make that pitch, I’ll do a background check while you deal with all that.”

“Go right ahead.”

He started by searching up Wes Weston and found his LinkedIn profile. He got his start in reporting in highschool where he was part of the basketball team and the newspaper club. He went to college and got a bachelors in journalism and has been bouncing around different newspapers before landing in Gotham. Nothing unusual there. He looked at criminal history and found nothing of note.

Checking the headlines of things Wes had written, issues with discrimination against metahumans and sapient nonhumans was a common running theme, regardless of where he worked. Now for more personal stuff.

Wes Weston, full name West Weston, is the 3rd of 4 children. The first 3 were all named after cardinal directions though one changed his name, and they go by Kyle now. The 4th was a girl named Elle who was adopted when she was 12 years old and whose adoption records are sealed.

The father works as a patent lawyer while the mother’s employment has been more sporadic. Shortly after Wes was born, she was institutionalized for six months and dropped out of college. Digging a little bit deeper netted him an official diagnosis: schizophrenia.

Neither parent had a history of violent crime, and the mother was only institutionalized one other time, so Nightwing moved on to Wes’s hometown, Amity Park.

Amity Park had a few notable quirks. One was that many of the streets and buildings had ghost themed names, and it had a lot of places purported to be haunted. It also had a very low crime rate and an exceptionally low murder rate for a town its size. There was also a high metahuman population, and it was rated as being the least discriminatory towards metahumans, something the town itself was very proud of.

Nightwing could very easily imagine Wes being an amateur paranormal investigator, going into haunted houses looking for ghosts with his camcorder, being so outraged by the trafficking of metahumans that he investigated far beyond what anyone would expect of him, and being really boring in college because a lot of the fun drugs are a very bad idea for people at risk for schizophrenia.

“So how’s the background check going?”

“Comes from a decent family, standup citizen, and very into investigative journalism from a very early age,” said Nightwing, “is at risk of developing schizophrenia, but nothing suggests he has it.”

“He doesn’t. So, have you checked Bat’s profile on him?” said Oracle grinning.

Bats has a profile on him?” Nightwing checked the files from the Batcomputer remotely, and sure enough, there was a file with Wes’s name on it. Nightwing stared at it gobsmacked as he read through the list of vigilantes and superheroes that Wes apparently knew the secret identity of, often because he admitted it to their face.

Suddenly the fact that he bounced around new outlets made a lot more sense.

“Did you know about this?”

“I helped make it.”

“So you’ve already done a background check.”

Oracle chuckled. “Not a thorough one. Never needed to. He’s been just an annoyance until now.”

“Oh, well I'll add anything you haven’t already found. So how do you know this part?”

“Which part?”

Nightwing read off the profile. “Mr. Weston has an enormous difficulty with keeping secrets, but only in front of people who already know said secret because he doesn't believe he can do harm by telling someone something they already know. He is remarkably self-aware about his need to be seen as smart and seem impressive that results in him blurting out sensitive information.”

“That's because Weston told Bats that to his face.”

Nightwing was skimming through the unconfirmed list. Superman was on there. Suspected but has not yet been approached. “When was this?”

“Last week. After that, we asked around the Justice League and that is where the list you’re looking at came from.”

“I didn’t even know Captain Marvel had a secret identity. Is he a metahuman? A physic or mind reader, maybe?”

“Not that I know of. The rest of his family is fairly normal. The gene isn’t in his family history.”

“Interesting. You’re right about him being like Tim. This is like a more extreme version of how Tim became a Robin. He didn’t just figure out Batman, he’s figuring out everyone. His talent is wasted figuring out supers identities. There’s always more room for another detective.”

“Ask him during your interview. I doubt he’ll accept.”

“What makes you say that?”

Oracle shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

A week and a half later, Wes interviewed Nightwing about taking down the trafficking ring. They had found everyone that Wes had initially identified and many more from other cities and even other countries. The entire Justice League got involved rounding up the trafficking and their clients. It was quickly turning into huge operation, and over a hundred metahumans were found and rescued.

“So after you got the anonymous tip about the trafficking ring, what did you do?” asked Wes.

“You’re calling yourself an anonymous tipper?”

“It’s my story, I can call myself what I want.”

Nightwing laughed. “Okay, well after the ‘anonymous tip’ the other bats and I went to the locations we were told about, and it turned out they were right on the money on where the trafficking ring was operating in Gotham.” He went on to describe breaking in, beating up the traffickers, and rescuing the victims. They discussed the investigation and what would be appropriate to include in a news article.

“Afterward, we knew that we hadn’t found everyone again thanks to the anonymous tip, who later gave us a wealth of information about the trafficking ring and their operations in other cities, and from that jumping off point, we’ve been able to take down the entire organization and going after their clients.”

Wes smirked and scribbled down his answer. “So what do you think about how metahumans are treated by contemporary society, especially in light of this?”

“That’s a complicated question, isn’t it? Well, these traffickers clearly only saw their victims as tools and merchandise and not people. That definitely needs to change, or things like this are going to keep happening.”

“Did you know that metahumans are 100 times more likely to be kidnapped than any other demographics?”

Nightwing exhaled. “No, but that doesn’t surprise me.” He thinks he might’ve known that if he read some of Wes’s articles in full. “It makes me angry too, because I’m friends with many metahumans personally, and they and their kids shouldn’t have to live in fear of criminals like these traffickers, and I along with the Justice League are going to do everything we can to make the world safer for them and all people. And I can think of one person in particular who would be an essential asset to take down more people like these traffickers.”

Wes didn’t take the bait. “The metahumans that you know, do you know any that aren’t vigilantes or heroes?”

“Yes plenty,” said Nightwing.

“That aren’t in Arkham or that you know primarily from your civilian life?”

“A few,” said Nightwing slowly.

“Well, I ask because the public’s most visible representation of metahumans is from superheroes and supervillains, both seemingly larger than life figures. From many interviews I’ve made, the general public in many cities have a hard time conceptualizing metahumans to anything more down to earth or, well, human. The idea of metahumans as the victims as violent crime, rather than the perpetrators or the rescuers, is quite alien in the mainstream. Is that surprising to you?”

He… hadn’t really thought of that. “I don’t think the idea that metahumans can be victims is strange at all. Meta is not omnipotent, nor omniscient. Even my teammates who are metahuman have been captured or needed rescuing. A person doesn’t need to not have powers to be your average Joe, just like how you don’t need to have powers to be a hero. I don’t really know how to solve the issue of representation, but it’s definitely an important one.

“But I think that anyone with the drive to do what we do should do it, like the anonymous tipper without whom we couldn’t have stopped those traffickers.”

Wes dropped his pencil. “What?”

Nightwing leaned over in his chair. “Wes, you’re a great detective. If what you sent Oracle is any indication of your quality of work, I want you on my team.”

Wes laughed nervously. “Eh heh heh, no. No. No. Absolutely not.” He waved his arms in front of his himself just to emphasize his point.

“Wes, you have a real talent in detective work, and frankly it's wasted on being a mere ‘junior’ reporter for the Gotham Gazette.”

Wes scrunched up his face like he was offended. “No, I don’t want to be a vigilante. I can’t fight, like at all.”

“I’m not asking you to fight. Oracle doesn’t fight much, not anymore anyway. We can always use more detectives.”

“No offense, but I would rather quit my job at the Gotham Gazette and find work as a journalist in a different city,” he said and started packing his things. “So do you have anything else to add or can I consider this interview concluded?”

“I don’t have much else to say,” admitted Nightwing, “but you should send a message if you decide to reconsider.”

“I will not do that.”

“So how did the interview go?” asked Barbara.

“It went fine,” said Dick.

“Did he accept your offer?”

Dick sighed. “No, I think he’s going to job and leave the city.”

“Shame. I wonder where he’s going to end up next.”

Sometime later, long after Wes had quit his job at the Gotham Gazette and moved out of Gotham entirely, Dick was recuperating from his latest battle when he got a text from Barbara.

Barbara: Remember how you said that Wes was wasting his talent being a reporter?

Dick: Yes?

Barbara: He just got Luthor to admit that Superboy was made from Superman’s and his DNA.

Dick: WHAT

Barbara sent him a link to the news story. He watched Wes, who was now working at the Metropolis Star, shove a microphone in Luthor’s face and ask what should’ve been a ridiculous question if it wasn't right on the money. Then he saw Luthor’s reaction. The follow up questions. Luthor leaving. Wes’s little smirk just before he was out of frame as the camera followed Luthor.

The news correspondents were already speculating the meaning of this, that Superboy had two fathers one of which famously hated the other. There was no way they were going to let this go until there was an explanation. Luthor would never live this moment down.

Okay, maybe saying his talent was wasted was a bit too strong.

--------

This references 2 fics by me. One about Wes bouncing around different news outlets, and one where he gets Lex to basically admit that he is Superboy's father.

Short DPXDC Prompts #684

Wes Weston cannot believe it. He just saw Nightwing remove his mask in an alley. Does he inform Dick Grayson that he knows or does he keep it to himself?

[princesssmars]

just thinking of softly reconnecting with vi after so many years apart :c

let’s say after the explosion happened you had stuck together with ekko, helping him build and nurture the firelights from the ground up into the thriving community it is today. after coming to terms with what you’d lost and possibly losing jinx sooner or later, you saw ekko as the only family you had left and trusted him more than any one or anything.

which is why she when he gets back from some secretive day trip he’d gone out on he brings you with him to see what he’d found - who he had found.

for the first few seconds you thought she was a ghost, a cruel trick your mind was playing on you by projecting your fears of being scared for ekko into your dead best friend, more than your friend, into what she’d look like today if she was still by your side. if everything that had happened simply didn’t.

but before you can react she’s slipping out of her cuffs (you’d always told ekko that he never fastened them tight enough for zaunites) and lifting you in her arms,your brain catching up and getting out all the buried emotions in the force of your hug.

once you both calm down she explains everything, always so open to you, how she had been taken and thrown in still water for years and had gotten out just less than a day ago, she’d never leave you and ekko and jin powder behind, not even to save her own skin from the destruction of that day.

and as much as the explanation calmed you you knew and reassured her you didn’t need it, taking her hand in yours and pressing it to your chest, heart swelling at the tears appearing at the corners of her eyes.

she and her companion are given only a few days to rest and heal with the firelight’s before they need to return some weird important blue gem they’d found, but until then you don’t leave vi’s side. you show her around the base, make sure she’s eating an actual meal for the first time in years, and that she’s not straining her injury whether she’d gotten it healed by shimmer or not.

by the time night falls you can slowly but surely see the energy coming back to her body. well, spiritually, not physically. you show her to one of the spare quarters for new firelights. you don't have a choice but to join her when her hand tightens around your wrist and drags you in with her, plopping the both of you on the plush of the bed.

its cute how she almost seems to melt into it, lashes fluttering and looking on the near brink of sleep in only five seconds before your giggling brings her back, reluctantly moving so that you can scoot into bed behind her.

you can tell she’s still on edge when you gently place your hand on her head, taking care to use gentle movements as you move her to lie on top of you so you don’t disturb her. you can see the scars on her back peeking out from under her shirt and it takes everything in you to blink away the tears forming. there was a time when vi would initiate affection with you so earnestly, wrapping you and her other loved ones into her arms until your stomach felt like it'd burst from love. and now she was rigid at you softly brushing her hair.

clearly, your silence and reluctance make it obvious why you’re being so delicate because she gives a brief explanation of what happened to her in stillwater, her breath quietly hitching in parts where she can't hide how deeply what happened affected her. by the time she's done you can feel stray tears falling down your face, hands trembling as you hug her ever closer to you.

she buries herself impossibly closer to you, lashes tickling your chest as she press her lips to your sternum in an act so desperate you think calling it a kiss is a disservice. you can feel her relax as you start to brush her hair and talk to her aimlessly, about all of the things she's missed, things you cant wait to show her now that she's back.

it's the best night's sleep she had in years.

[allisonlol]

HII !! could you do dazai, chuuya and fyodor with a s/o that forgot pretty much everything from their past/forgets a lot in the present due to trauma? if possible male reader, and if not gn works aswell! thank you :))

a/n: felt this req hard LOL

warnings: memory loss, past trauma (not elaborated on)

(Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor) With a S/O with Memory Loss From Trauma

Dazai

i feel like dazai can relate in some ways because he too has immense trauma but instead of forgetting it, he remembers it too well

therefore in a way he's grateful that ur brain is blocking those memories so u don't have to remember the pain

dazai had noticed your forgetful behavior the second he met you, and had already categorized it as due to trauma in your past

honestly finds your forgetfulness adorable but it also enrages him bc someone hurt you enough to cause it

simply does not comment on any of this though. if you mention that you forgot something that happened literally yesterday he'll simply smile at you (is that a hint of sadness in his expression?) and reassure u that it's okay

will text u updates throughout the day to make sure u aren't forgetting anything

pictures pictures pictures!!!! literally photographs everything u guys do together so you can always look back to remember :)

but unbeknownst to you, dazai will secretly do some deep digging into your past to find out exactly what happened and who to get revenge on <3

^trust me when i say they will deeply regret everything they had ever done to you

Chuuya

it's canon that chuuya can't remember what... the first 7 years of his life? so he totally understands

he won't question u at all abt the reasonings for your memory loss unless u wanted to talk abt it

does get worried abt your current forgetfulness though. with a job as strenuous as being in the mafia, having a good memory is important

^if any of the higher ups knew you weren't "sufficient enough" in that department, despite your other strengths, you would be disposed of

this added stress doesn't help you at all but chuuya does his best to keep you safe

^having a boyfriend who is also your executive is very useful in this aspect

leaves little notes and reminders on your desk so u won't forget anything important

hell, chuuya will even fill out reports for you if u were having trouble remembering the events that took place

i feel like he would also pay very close attention to everything u guys do together so, if you forgot, he would be able to tell you all about it

Fyodor

another one who categorized your memory loss as due to trauma the second he met you

unlike the others tho, he will question u about it

if you’re honest with him & say that it’s due to traumatic events, he’ll ask if you want him to do anything about it for you (in other words, find and eliminate the ones who caused it 😊)

^if you say no to this, he’ll nod and agree with u but secretly hunt them down on his own

however if you lie to fyodor and say that you’re just forgetful (not due to trauma) he’ll frown & keep asking probing questions until he gets the truth out of u

has he heard of privacy? like damn

^its out of love tho. not saying it’s right but fyodor shows his care by learning as much abt u as possible. he needs to know everything, good or bad

finds your current forgetfulness adorable, albeit irritating at times (remember who we’re talking abt here)

if you forgot an event or important piece of information he will get slightly annoyed with you & might say some insensitive things 😬

^tho once he sees that he’s upset you, fyodor will usually sigh and apologize

recommends u keep a journal for reminders, however he also logs all events that u do alone or together so you won’t forget in the future

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway @beautiful-is-boring @irethepotato @serenareiss @thescrunkly @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @disa-ster

[mixiury]

Here with you — Wanderer x GN! Reader

Summary: After a long walk with Wanderer, you ended up exhausted, taking a small nap with your companion in the middle of the forest.

A/N: I corrected some typos I noticed after reading this again. I am dyslexic and English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if there is still some. Please feel free to point them out!

"Come here, lie with me."

"Why would I? To get my clothes dirty like yours? No thanks." Wanderer answered to your request almost instantly, showing little interest in changing his mind.

Both of you have been walking for hours now, enjoying the cool breeze that the trees of the Sumeru forest release.

It's hard to keep track of time in a place like this, especially when the silence and calm stretches out in its entirety and all you can hear is the soft melody of the birds with the snapping grass and leaves you are stepping on the ground while you walk.

But even though your hiking companion doesn't need to take breaks and the beautiful views of the landscapes along the way help in motivating you to continue exploring, you soon end up finding your feet and legs demanding you to rest, lying down on a small and comfortable hill, while Wanderer reluctantly agrees to wait for you a few minutes.

"Are you sure you don't want to join me? The sun is nice." You know what his response is going to be, but you keep insisting anyways, hoping that some miracle will happen that would make him change his mind and rest alongside you. However, as was from being expected, his head just turned away, ignoring your request with the same stubborness that characterizes him.

Defeated, you find solace in the warm sunlight and fresh grass you lie on, slowly imbuing yourself in its trap as your eyelids fight to stay open.

It is not until he notices how quiet you have become that Wanderer's gaze finally returned to your sleeping figure, noticing each deep breath you take as your chest rises and falls steadily, with nothing to interrupt you from falling into your calm, soft slumber.

It's annoying how you allow to put yourself in such a comfortable state in the middle of nowhere. As if, in this precise moment, nothing else mattered.

It seems like you don't know how easy of a target you are right now, not worrying about your surroundings and all the dangers that are around you. It only takes a few seconds to end a human's life and it's much easier when you're in such a vulnerable and peaceful state that you wouldn't even be able to react before you feel the pain of your aggressor hurting you.

And yet, the mere thought of it makes him feel sick and jealous of you at the same time. How can you live your life so carelessly? Is it because you don't have any self-prevention instincts inside that empty brain of yours? Or are you just so naive that, even knowing how he can easily leave you to your own devices, you still trust him enough to allow yourself to be in this position?

Knowing you will probably never tell him, he decides to search the answer by himself, quietly approaching you and laying down next to you, hoping that the sound of the grass rustling next to you won't wake you up or interrupt your dreams as he watches you in complete silence.

And it's only now, after he finally gave into your request, that he understood what you were talking about.

The faint rays of the sun really feel like a bliss the moment they caress your face, intense enough to embrace you with their warmth but not to the point of burning you. Contrasting with the cloudy and gloomy Inazuma mornings he had grown used to.

It has been so long since he felt this warmth and calmness, still staring at you steadily and letting himself enjoy the peaceful nature of the moment.

It feels illegal that him, out of all people, could experience an instance like this. He, whom from the day of his creation the only birthright that has been given to him was an eternity of grievance, shame and solitude, simply lying on the grass without any other concern but you.

He doesn't understand it but he wants to. Your presence itself has already helped him understand a hint of your normalicy, something that he had spent decades chasing and longing for but was never able to hold for long enough to call it his. And yet, he lets himself fall into your trap and comfort, finally taking a break from all the thoughts that have been stuck in his mind as he simply rests by your side.

[quitealotofsodapop]

[You did send a less detailed version of this ask a few days ago, I just hadn't gone through my inbox enough XD] + [I love the detailed responses though! It's nice to see so much interest in my silly aus!]

okay! I thought I sent one but I couldn't quite remember if I did XD Sometimes I feel like I ramble too much so I'm glad you like these! if it's not to much trouble do you mind answer the og post, you don't have to actually make any comments on it contents but I'm keeping notes on Slow boiled au for the fanfic I'm writing and their might be some details in there I forgot about, thank you.

[Peaches. Some days his brain/body just decides "Eww no. bleh. Spit it out right now" and the nausea hits him hard. Wukong is dismayed whenever it happens.]

at some point in s3 MK walks in on Monkey King crying over a peach with a single bite taken out of it, Wukong having gotten emotional when he his body couldn't handle the peach + stress (I headcanon that part of his obsession with peaches are because peaches are a comfort food for him, so not being able to eat one when stressed hit him pretty hard).

[Think of it like the formation of a geode - it can do it either over a natural couple of centuries, or in a few months with intervention.]

the geode comparison is really cool! especially considering it's a stone egg.

[it's possible MK *remembers* being held by someone soft with a round belly + gold eyes. He assumes throughout his life that this person was his birth mother before he was given up/orphaned.]

imagine monkey king asking MK about his family, wantingto know how his brother's reincarnations are doing, and MK talks about them then mentions he was actually adopted and MK offhandedly mentioning the one memory he has of his "birth mother" to Monkey king and monkey king just being like "oh. oh no."

[So that Stone Egg been slow boiling from anywhere between 1394 to 1116 years. 0_o] + [Either way SWK has beaten Lao Tzu/Zi's mom (pregnant for 62-80 years), and def brags about that fact to whatever immortal will hear.]

honestly, after that long, he's earned bragging rights.

[DBK overhears LBD making threatening references to Wukong's conditon and immediately interrupts her villainy bs to yell at his sworn brother.]

LBD just giving up and leaving as the two bicker is hilarious. it also has the affect of eleveating some of Wukong's stress about LBD returning, and making him feel better about the rift between him and his brother once DBK accepts his proposal to be the egg's godparent. evn if offering such a title to someone other then Ao Lie leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth. he knows Ao Lie would't mind him giving the title to someone he trusted, but he'd always been so sure that someone would be Ao Lie.

[After the initial shock wears off, PIF immediately summons a catalog to look for baby shower supplies. This is a monumentous occassion!]

all negitive feelings are forgotten when the excitement of a new baby within the sworn family is brought into everything + learning that Wukong very possibly could have lost his own child by helping with the Samadhi fire ritual, something he did becuase he was one of the few who could help them from losing their own child. from mother to mother(?), she understands how hard of a call that must have been to make.

[She ofc assumes it's Macaque's fault (she's not wrong XD) and that this might be her future sworn niece/nephew! She simply must organise everything for her idiot sworn brother and his mate!]

when Yuebei is born and has dark fur and glowing ears she feels it is confirmed that her assumption Macaque was the other parent was correct, no one corrects her about the bio parent situation.

[Red blinks in confusion before confronting the Monkie Kid gang about it later. Mei demands PIF's contact details right that second so that they can swap party ideas.]

red son is just going "WTH WTH WTH" the whole time as they explain, Mei would absolutely insert herself into baby shower planing the moment the idea is brought up.

[Macaque spends most of S3 trying to bat away any thoughts/predictive sounds of a happy domestic life him and Wukong cna have together.]

its dangerous to be thinking of such things with the lady bone demon breathing down his neck, but he can't help it. it gets overwhelming sometimes, the sounds of domestic moments from the past mixing with possible futures leave him questioning what it is exactly he wants anymore. but those are thoughts to process when LBD is defeated and the world isn't on the cusp of being destroyed. now of Wukong didn't put himself and the egg in one of the most compramising positions ever by being possessed in the meantime, that would be great. he makes up his mind the moment a just freed monkey king collapses into his arms crying like this is the only hug he's ever had in his life.

[Yuebei's first immortal kill is in fact LBD, preformed before she was even born. Once the switch "flipped" on the possesed SWK, the Egg recognised LBD as both a threat to her parent and a tasty source of Dao, hence; nom-nom-nom.] + [All thats left behind of the ancient bone demon is a picked-clean skull.]

not even out of the womb and already earning her "god killer" title. Wukong always guessed any kid that was solely his would be a menace, but now he's starting to get a little concerned.

I was doing some doodles for this au and I had the idea of Yuebei getting a staff of her own from her parents and I wanted it to have something to do with LBD's skull, but I couldn't make the design work. so I actually had the idea of her having her staff and wearing the front of LBD's skull like a mask. she legit wearing the skeletal face of her first kill, creepy, stylish, and effective at scaring off her enemies.

[Ah, a fellow party crasher, just like her baba.]

Wukong appreciates the hustle, but could she be a menace to everyone except him and is poor body please? he just got put through hell and now he's gotta get this egg outta him and that's probably gonna be less fun then getting possessed.

[Wukong and Macaque can barely enjoy the bowl of noodles they've stolen (in good humor) from MK when Wukong's face just drops from a shift in his body.]

Macaque feels Wukong's body suddenly go rigid and is confused, then he sees the look on Wukong's face and just knows. as soon as Wukong starts ordering Ne Zha to go get Guanyin he's instantly fussing and getting things ready for the undoubtedly long few hours ahead. surprisingly, the two monkeys are basically the only ones not panicking at this point, them and Guanyin once they're on the scene.

[Tang: "Oh gracious Buddha! The bodhisattva Guanyi herse-- oh gosh this is a lot grosser than I was expecting..." *gets woozy and hides face in Pigsy's chest*]

no matter the incarnation, every reincarnation of the golden cicada is squeamish.

[Imagine how much crying would be involved if little Yuebei just so happened to be born six-eared as well?] + [Hard to refute their claims when the little Monkey Princess has such lovely midnight-dark fur and glowing ears.]

I like to think that she wouldn't have his six sensitive ears because she didn't actually have the genetics for it, but her appearance could still be pushed so her ears do still glow a little.

even if their aren't six ears, the instant Macaque sees her ears glowing he would not be able to stop himself from squealing with joy and practically side tackling Wukong as he is incoherently babbling about how much he loves her.

[He def recorded a tape + wrote letters to Yuebei before she was born ala "For Steven" in Steven Universe... just in case his immortality didn't work in the end.]

he def let Guanyin know before hand so that if things did go wrong they'd know the tapes/letters were there to give to his infant.

[Little Yuebei spent so much time in the "final run" hearing show tunes, action movies, and the voices of Wukong's new found family/troop that she thinks theses are all "good noises"!]

this is super cute!

but to make a good thing angsty, what if she also has "bad noises" that she associates with certain things. what if when they first met Azure she was super aggressive towards him at first because she "remembers" hearing him being really mean and/or straight up hurting Wukong at some point in the journey. and what if she also isn't that trusting of macaque at first because she also only ever "heard" him when he was in the process of trying to hurt her baba and his friends, both in his first life and now in his second. this def upsets Macaque but also he did do that so he's the one who's gotta make up for it, luckily yuebei seems to warm up to him quickly when she sees him and Wukong being cuddly and reconciling.

[Yuebei decided that "Kitty" wasn't playing with her, wasn't holding her right, and wasn't even singing to her! And she wanted to make her frustrations known.]

c'mon Azure, if you're gonna hold a super strong baby that already doesn't like you the least you can do is try and keep her happy and preoccupied. he's got no one but himself to blame

sequel to this post!

Im uber excited to read more your fic btw!

[I headcanon that part of his obsession with peaches are because peaches are a comfort food for him, so not being able to eat one when stressed hit him pretty hard]

Wukong associates peaches with 1: Food security, 2: His Immortality, and most importantly, 3: His friendship/romance with Macaque. So his body deciding to reject peaches is a huge stresser for him, which leads to more stress and more nausea and less peaches, in an endless cycle. Peach chips at least dont seem to trigger the worst of his food adversion though, the crunchy chip texture seems to cancel it out.

[...MK talks about them then mentions he was actually adopted and MK offhandedly mentioning the one memory he has of his "birth mother" to Monkey king and monkey king just being like "oh. oh no."]

Oh MK sweetie no... :(

And the Monkey King is just silent cus he knows who MK is talking about [him], and even if SWK didn't create MK in the au, he was still the one to decide to send him to live among mortals for his own good. So the idea that MK potientially remembers Wukong from this time is a huge shock to him.

Wukong: "...your mother, what did they look like?"

MK, clueless: "Umm... their hair was a warm orange-y color. Like the sun. And I think their eyes was this really shiny yellow, or maybe amber colour? Oh! And they had this round stomach - I remember hugging it..." *gets kinda wistful* "I don't know why I'm not with them anymore, but hope they're doing ok if they're still out there."

Wukong, hand ghosting over his stomach: "You and me both bud."

[DBK accepts his proposal to be the egg's godparent. evn if offering such a title to someone other then Ao Lie leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth. he knows Ao Lie would't mind him giving the title to someone he trusted, but he'd always been so sure that someone would be Ao Lie.]

Wukong def was hit hard by Ao Lie's passing. It pains him to give the godparent title to anyone else, but he knows when push comes to shove; his older sworn brother will be there to protect his infant. Ao Lie would just be glad that Wukong meant his offer all those centuries ago.

[all negitive feelings are forgotten when the excitement of a new baby within the sworn family is brought into everything + learning that Wukong very possibly could have lost his own child by helping with the Samadhi fire ritual, something he did becuase he was one of the few who could help them from losing their own child. from mother to mother(?), she understands how hard of a call that must have been to make.]

PIF has to give Wukong mega-respect; putting himself and his baby on the line for the health of her own. Even if she considers it so stupid to agree to such a dangerous ritual when Wukong knew he was carrying, PIF just looks over at Red Son, alive and healthy, and just hugs Wukong the next time she sees him. Although she hasn't been the most welcoming sworn sister-in-law, she vows to make it up to him for saving her child from the Samadhi Fire.

A decent proper baby shower is first on her list of repayments.

[when Yuebei is born and has dark fur and glowing ears she feels it is confirmed that her assumption Macaque was the other parent was correct, no one corrects her about the bio parent situation.]

PIF just side-eyeing Macaque whenever she sees him, convinced from the talk of the two's bad breakup + Macaque not initially knowing about the pregnancy; that her lil sworn bro is the baby-daddy. And when Yuebei is born having "imprinted" on Wukong's yearning/love for Macaque...

PIF: *seeing the baby's dark fur and glowing ears* PIF (whispering so not to wake the baby): "I fcking knew it." Macaque: *is too tired/proud to argue with her* "Yeaaah..." :')

[red son is just going "WTH WTH WTH" the whole time as they explain, Mei would absolutely insert herself into baby shower planing the moment the idea is brought up.]

Red has no idea what to do in response to all this baby talk, so he just; tries to apologise to SWK for setting him on fire a bunch as a toddler??

Wukong appriciates the effort.

Mei, PIF and Jiuweihuli get talking and soon Wukong is looking at a baby shower akin to a red carpet event.

[...but those are thoughts to process when LBD is defeated and the world isn't on the cusp of being destroyed. now of Wukong didn't put himself and the egg in one of the most compramising positions ever by being possessed in the meantime, that would be great. he makes up his mind the moment a just freed monkey king collapses into his arms crying like this is the only hug he's ever had in his life.]

Macaque spends episodes asking himself he truly wants to rebuild his and Wukong's relationship, and when the king holds him tight like he's about to disappear - Macaque decides to stay for good.

[not even out of the womb and already earning her "god killer" title.]

Imagine you're a random Celestial or demon and you hear the dreaded "God Killer" is gonna be at an event, and it's a tiny baby monkey in a papoose strapped to the Monkey King, or his many terrifying sworn family members.

You'd honestly be more afraid of that baby.

[I was doing some doodles for this au and I had the idea of Yuebei getting a staff of her own from her parents and I wanted it to have something to do with LBD's skull, but I couldn't make the design work. so I actually had the idea of her having her staff and wearing the front of LBD's skull like a mask. she legit wearing the skeletal face of her first kill, creepy, stylish, and effective at scaring off her enemies.]

Oh that sounds so cool!!! Her divine skull weapon being a mask made from the skull of her first kill that she uses to channel her deadly power - like turning the Medusa's head into a shield. Her staff being a gift from her parents that has no inate magic ability beyond the fact that she puts her trust in it as her first "real" weapon.

I can imagine she uses a glamour/quick magic to put the skull/mask on (like Dr Facillier in "Friends on the Other Side") as a way of saying "You're f*cked" to her opponents.

I'm excited to see how your drawings go!

[-the two monkeys are basically the only ones not panicking at this point, them and Guanyin once they're on the scene.]

Wukong and Macaque are def panicking, though its more an excited kind of panicking. Nezha and MK are def screaming. Guanyin is the only one with a cool head the entire time.

Pigsy is good at pretending he isn't worried, but he ends up tearing apart the campsight's kitchen in a hurry to make enough food for everyone. Especially when DBK and PIF realise what's happening, and are posted incase Wukong's baby causes as much trouble for him as Red did to them.

[I like to think that she wouldn't have his six sensitive ears because she didn't actually have the genetics for it, but her appearance could still be pushed so her ears do still glow a little.

even if their aren't six ears, the instant Macaque sees her ears glowing he would not be able to stop himself from squealing with joy and practically side tackling Wukong as he is incoherently babbling about how much he loves her.]

Oh gosh, Mac and Wukong just see Yuebei for the first time. She's still kinda gross, having *just* busted out of her thin ambiotic shell. Her fur dark... And her little ears glowing?! Both monkey parents are sobbing, especially when they learn that Yuebei was unconciously trying her best to look like Macaque's baby with the limited genetics available. Wukong has multiple centuries of love to dish out, and Macaque is catching up fast.

[he def let Guanyin know before hand so that if things did go wrong they'd know the tapes/letters were there to give to his infant.]

Guanyin has a secret stash in the Southern Ocean of all the letters and tapes (and even some drawings of what she might have looked like) Wukong ever made for Yuebei, in case he wasn't able to give them to her in person. Yuebei ends up finding them when she's a moody teenager, mad at her baba for something stupid.

Pre-series; In absense of any other godparent... I bet Wukong would have trusted Yuebei with Guanyin if possible. The goddess would have gladly taken the infant had Wukong not survived the birth, though it would pain her for many centuries to come.

[but to make a good thing angsty, what if she also has "bad noises" that she associates with certain things...] + [...and what if she also isn't that trusting of macaque at first because she also only ever "heard" him when he was in the process of trying to hurt her baba and his friends] + [...luckily yuebei seems to warm up to him quickly when she sees him and Wukong being cuddly and reconciling.]

ooohhhh :(

Wukong walks in after letting Mac take care of Yuebei while he was out, only to come back to see both of them crying. Yuebei is doing this sort of furious wailing while Mac just looks defeated.

Macaque: "She hates me!!" Wukong, picks up Yuebei: "No she doesn't plum. She cries at eveything." Yuebei: *calms down at sound of Wukong's voice* Macaque: "No! She started crying when I tried talking to her! And when I tried soothing her it just got worse and worse and-!!" (*Wukong places a soft hand on Mac's cheek, quieting him*) Wukong: "She'll warm up to you. Just be patient." Macaque: *leans into Wukong's hand, still crying." Yuebei: *looks confused before slapping a fat little hand on Mac's face in mimicry of her baba. chirping with delight* Macaque: :')

Once the relationship between Wukong and Mac improves, so does the baby's reaction to Mac's voice (symbolism). She finally starts to associate the "bad" voice with her bama, and soon it's not a "bad voice" anymore. Though there probably is a weird bridge-point where Mac has to put on silly accents/voices when he baby-talks to Yuebei or else she'll get mad at him.

[c'mon Azure, if you're gonna hold a super strong baby that already doesn't like you the least you can do is try and keep her happy and preoccupied. he's got no one but himself to blame]

I can just imagine Azure is too preoccupied with his plans for the Celestial Realm (and plans for Wukong), and fails to notice Yuebei getting more and more fussy as he holds her (poorly). Her face contorts like she's constipated and slowly gets redder and redder with anger.

Yellowtusk immediately notices and warns Azure to let the cub down so she can at least crawl and inspect her new surroundings. Peng laughs at the thought of letting "the hatchling" decide the terms of her imprisonment.

Then Peng feels a tiny, but powerful, hand grab their wing feathers...

Yellowtusk leaves before the carnage reaches him.

[jammatown919]

Mistakes Were Made (Chapter Five)

Lux couldn't remember the last time her head had hurt this badly.

She couldn't remember much of anything, to be honest. Everything felt sort of hazy and dark, wrapped up in a thick blanket of vague discomfort and punctuated by what seemed like a bullet going through her brain over and over again but never managing to finish the job. Everything ached, her throat was dry, and her stomach almost burned.

It was enough to make most people cry out, but the most that managed to escape was some odd-sounding cross between a groan and a whimper. Almost immediately, a warm presence descended on her. A hand brushed stray hairs out of her face, sticky with sweat, then came around to cradle the base of her head.

"Easy," a voice murmured. "I gotcha."

Lux could've sworn she knew that voice, but her eyes wouldn't open to allow her to check, nor would her lips form the words to ask. She got only a few more strangled sounds before something cool was pressed to her mouth. Liquid. Slight metallic tinge.

Petricite.

Instinctually, with what little energy she could muster, Lux jerked her head to the side and allowed the fluid to run down her cheek before the cup was pulled away and repositioned at her mouth again.

"You gotta drink," the voice said gently. "Just a few sips."

Lux continued to fight it with all she had left. She remembered now, the vile medicine that had been forced down her throat for however long it had been by this point, because her own family would rather see her suffer than let her exist as all of herself. But surely someone had to have some pity on her, sick and wretched as she was. How could they still be so concerned with killing her light when this poison was so clearly killing her too? Didn't they care whether she lived or died?

No, something in the back of her mind supplied. They don't.

Where was Garen? He wouldn't allow them to kill her, she was sure. If she could just get his attention, he would save her.

"Hey, hey." The voice grew more frustrated but never less gentle as Lux continued to squirm and groan. "Easy, Sunshine. Relax. It's just water."

Lux very nearly called bullshit, but... Sunshine? None of her family called her that. None of the guards tasked with her containment would dare.

Was this Jinx?

"Hey, you hearin' me?" That definitely sounded like Jinx. Cautiously, Lux allowed her weary muscles to relax. "There ya go, nice and easy. Take a few sips."

It had it be water then, didn't it? There was no way Jinx would ever feed her petricite. Jinx would never hurt her. Or... never on purpose... there was something fuzzy somewhere in the back of her mind that needed to make that distinction. Jinx would never hurt her on purpose.

But she wouldn't lie about petricite, and Lux was so thirsty...

Deciding to trust it, Lux finally parted her lips to the minuscule degree that she could and allowed a thin stream to enter her mouth. For a second, she thought she'd been wrong after all. The water definitely had a similar metallic tinge and general bad taste to it, but it didn't burn going down, and Lux found after waiting a minute between sips that it didn't cause her stomach to spasm. As far as she could tell, it was just bad-tasting water. Not as clean as what she was used to, but it soothed her parched throat all the same.

"That's it," Jinx praised softly as Lux began to drink in earnest. "Attagirl."

By the time she was finished, Lux found herself feeling just slightly better. Not enough to open her eyes or try to speak, but enough that she felt like she could drift back to sleep without simply dying on the spot. 

She trusted that Jinx would be there while she slept and keep the next dose of petricite far away from her. Then, when she felt better, they could find Garen and... well, they would figure it out. When Lux could think more clearly, she'd remember why she was here and where Garen was and what to do next. Until then, she had Jinx, and that was enough for now. 

------

The next time Lux regained consciousness, it was significantly easier to stay that way. She still ached all over, but in a lesser manner that could fade into the background, and it seemed that her insides had finally returned to something resembling normal. She felt stronger, too, and finally capable of opening her eyes. 

As she did so, she found herself in a space she didn't recognize. Dimly lit, bare metal walls, a strong, sharp smell in the air. She sat up for quite possibly the first time in several days, glancing around at various paint-stained tables littered with wires, scraps of metal, tools, and all manner of half-built things. The floor wasn't safe from the mess either, covered in scribbles, drawings both on and off paper, discarded parts, and strangely enough, a pile of perfectly clean blankets in one corner. 

Lux herself had been sleeping on a cleared off table, one blanket laid out beneath her and another overtop. Certainly not the most comfortable sleeping situation she'd ever had, but someone had clearly gone out of their way to accommodate her. 

But who? Who would've brought her here, and where was here?  

She had a sense that there was something important just outside of her hazy recollection. Something bad had happened. The reason for the petricite. 

A door banged open on the far side of the room, interrupting her thoughts. Lux yelped and twisted around to face the source of the noise, vaguely satisfied that she was once again able to form a white-hot ball of pure light in her hand to defend herself. 

"Woah!" Lux recognized the voice before the face. A familiar excitement and... relief? "Looks like someone's feeling better."

"Jinx?" she croaked out, allowing the light to fade as she forced her body to relax. 

"That's me!" Jinx replied brightly. She'd entered with a bowl in her hands, but she quickly set it down on the nearest table in favor of rushing over with both hands available to take Lux's face and pull her in for a kiss. "Morning, Sunshine. I missed you."

Missed her? Had it been that long since they'd seen each other? It couldn't have been. It felt so recent that they'd been in Lux's room together, arguing about her obligations to her suitor. But then something had happened. The bad thing. 

"Jinx, what... what happened?" Lux asked softly. "Where are we?"

"Home sweet home, Blondie." Jinx threw one of her arms out with a flourish, proudly presenting the space. "It's where I make all my stuff. I sleep in the corner over there. It's not as fancy as your old place, but we can probably fix it up a little, and it'll be real cozy when you get used to it. Oh, and you'll love Zaun."

"Wait, wait, wait." Lux's heart quickened slightly with every sentence. "My old place? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, right! You were asleep. Duh." Jinx chuckled and smacked herself on the side of the head. "I came by your place to say sorry for that little fight we had, but I found your brother instead. He told me about how your family didn't like how you froze those guys and how they were making you sick, so I nabbed you."

As Jinx spoke, reality suddenly came crashing back into Lux's mind. Jumping out the window to escape Garen. Freezing the guards in the courtyard. The cold judgement of her family and weeks of slowly wasting away under their "treatment". 

"O-oh my gods..."

"You, uh, you good?" Jinx asked, deflating slightly. "You're not gonna pass out again, are you? You did that a couple times. Kinda in and out for a few days there."

It had already been a few days? At this point, Lux had literally no idea how long she'd been out overall. Or how long it had been since that night, when her entire world had come crashing down and she'd lost everything. 

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. Jinx let out a soft, kind of squeaking noise, like she was startled.

"Hey, it's okay," she offered with a nervous smile. "What hurts? I'll fix it."

"It's not okay!" Lux sobbed out. "Why couldn't you have just listened to me?!"

"Wh- huh?" Jinx pulled back slightly, her eyes wide, confused, and visibly trying to puzzle it out.

"I told you my family couldn't see you," Lux went on. "I told you to leave, and you just made everything worse!"

"Blondie, I saved you!" Jinx protested.

"I wouldn't have needed saving if you had left when I asked," Lux bit back. "I outed myself for you. To protect you."

"I didn't mean for you to get hurt," Jinx tried, "but it all worked out in the end! You'll be safe here. No one will boss you around anymore. We can be together all the time and play whenever we want. It's a good thing."

Lux was about ready to tear her hair out. How could Jinx possibly not see what she'd done? She was crazy, not blind.

"I lost my home, Jinx. My family. I'll never see any of them again."

"So what?"

"So what?" Lux echoed incredulously.

"You wanted to leave anyway!" Jinx was getting upset now, and part of Lux really wanted to calm down and just hold her for a while, but it was all too much. "We did all that talking about running away together."

"Not yet!" Lux exclaimed. "I wasn't ready, Jinx. I needed time."

"Time for what?" Jinx demanded. "To spend with the fancy sticks in the mud who poisoned you just because you can do stuff they can't? Who wants to stick around with a family like that?"

"It's not that simple." With a great deal of effort, Lux managed to swing her legs over the side of the table. She meant to stand up, even though she wasn't entirely sure she could, but she didn't get that far.

On the floor against the table, Lux's leg brushed past a wicker basket she recognized from her bedroom. Rather than the trinkets she'd once kept it in, however, it was filled with neatly folded clothes, through a pile of which she could just see the very top of a stone Silverwing Raptor figurine Garen had given to her before leaving with the Dauntless Vanguard for the first time. Only he knew how much that little thing meant to her. Only he would've thought to send it with her.

Lux started crying even harder.

"It wasn't perfect, but I still had people I cared about. I had a brother who loved me. I wasn't ready to say goodbye, and now I'll never get to say goodbye at all. I'm never going to see my home or say another word to my brother again, so no, this is not a good thing."

Jinx just stared at her, like the concept of one's entire life falling apart being upsetting was foreign to her. But that couldn't be true. Her life had fallen apart more than its share of times, according to Ekko. There must have been some disconnect in that crazy head of hers, but trying to understand it enough to work around it required a certain amount of energy and probably a psychology degree that Lux simply didn't have at the moment.

All she could do was back down and accept the fact that Jinx didn't get it. She could see the consequences of her actions right in front of her and have them verbally spelled out and still look at Lux like a kicked puppy with absolutely no idea what she'd done wrong.

"But," Jinx began softly, "don't you wanna be here with me?"

Lux sighed and turned away, because she couldn't stand to look at that sad, confused face through her own tears. "Not like this."

Faster than Lux could even look back at her, Jinx turned and bolted out of the room. Lux just barely caught the tail ends of her braids disappearing behind the door before it slammed shut. 

"Jinx, I didn't mean-" Lux tried to stand and follow her, only for her legs to immediately crumple under her weight. She hit the floor hard and laid there stunned for a few seconds. 

Shit. 

Yeah, she wasn't going anywhere. Weeks of starving and hardly moving had left her weak. Maybe, if she really tried, she could ease herself back up onto the table, but she was not getting to that door. Much less wherever Jinx had gone beyond that. 

Lux groaned and rested her head on her outstretched arm, hiding her flushed, tear-stained face from the rest of the room. It was all too much. Everything had happened so fast, and she'd slept through so much of it. No time to process or grieve, and Jinx... Lux loved her dearly, but the insensitivity hadn't exactly helped. 

Maybe some time alone would be for the best. Lux needed to think. She needed to feel and come to terms. Get some of that mixed up storm of negative emotions out of her system before Jinx came back. 

She would have to be back eventually. This was her home, and even putting that aside, Lux couldn't imagine Jinx would leave her alone for too long. She would be back, and then they could give that whole conversation another try. 

In the meantime, Lux strained to reach into the basket now directly beside her and carefully, shakily removed the Silverwing figurine in all its unremarkable glory. Inexpensive, unpainted gray stone. The Raptor in a passive sitting position on top of an unmarked base. It was beautiful in its simplicity, allowing the eye to focus on the expertly crafted shape of the animal rather than anything flashy. Garen had known she would love it, and she still did, all these years later.

It was far from soft or cuddly, but she brought it close and laid down with it anyway, because it was the closest she could get to hugging her big brother. Curled up on the dirty floor, Lux closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cool stone surface, finding that it helped soothe the ache behind her eyes. 

She would get up eventually, when she inevitably cried herself out. When she'd had enough time to sit with her new reality.

When she was ready. 

------

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[blood-orange-juice]

Now that everyone is also in awe of that twitter thread about Childe being Smart I want to rebutt half of it.

Personally, I think he's perfectly average/a bit smarter than average, or rather good at some things and bad at others.

He's a quick thinker, proven by his character stories (people are indeed not assigned into vanguard just for dumb strength) and by how he used Traveler to check whether the forged sigil worked and sow some discord in the process (obviously his own plan and a good one at that. and he came up with it in a matter of minutes). Being able to lie through omission is no easy feat either.

He's quite poetic and it's usually a sign of intelligent person. (modern AU untraumatized Childe would 100% be a literature major, don't @ me. he'd also like Manowar)

However, he is also young, had no proper mentor and no formal education. Also brash and too self-confident at times. You *need* to be comfortable with doubting youself to be smart, it's thinking 101.

*

For starters, not suspecting Zhongli to be Rex Lapis was... an accomplishment in and by itself. The city breathes of this story. There are at least three books on the topic, it's told in every tea house, the traveler learns it through a single conversation with a trader in port. A golden-eyed person with excellent taste is always Rex Lapis or at least should be suspected to be him.

Childe somehow missed it, while being able to analyze intricacies of Qixing politics. This is bizarre and means that either he's extremely narrowinded (he doesn't show signs of that, quite the opposite), or that he was simply repeating someone else's ideas. His subordinates obviously bring him news and reports. So… how do we know his ability for political analysis is his and not someone else's?

He does look like the type who would repeat another person's good idea as his own (I'm imagining that's exactly how Zhongli tricked him into that whole sigil of permission thing).

Having said that, being able to listen to information brought by your subordinates is a rare and precious trait, I wish some of my bosses were more like that, haha.

(alternative option: that is in fact his own skill and one of the few skills where he did get actual mentorship. Pulcinella drilled attention to politics into his brain because otherwise things always got too messy when Childe got involved

it would also mean that nothing can drill attention to cultural stuff into Childe's brain because fuck it we ball)

*

Being able to copy sigils well enough? First, it's the job for the r&d team (can we have some appreciation for the Fatui r&d team, please)? Second, I'm not sure anyone truly copied those. Maybe Zhongli just enchanted every single one.

I they were actually succesfully copied, we have a problem of fatui being able to mass-print them and I don't want to think of the consequences. I hope Zhongli didn't let that happen.

*

Manipulating Traveler to do what he wanted in the Liyue arc? It's not like the Traveler had a lot of options or any personal loyalty to the Qixing. Did anyone really trust him to be our friend? What other choice did we have though but to follow his lead.

That's 10/10 for opportunistic thinking but it's not really a showcase of his manipulation skills (I'll keep thinking his social skills are abysmal until proven otherwise).

*

Being able to tell you just came from the blacksmith? Please, it's not him being observant, he just had you followed.

*

So, yeah... he's smart but he's also, what, 19? 20? (I hc him on the younger side because it helps me overlook his bad traits). It's amazing he got this far and he'll become smart one day but that day hasn't happened yet.

In other words he is far from dumb but the fatui do treat him as dumb muscle because what do you expect.

[demonscantgothere]

Do you think any feelings Galadriel might have developed for Halbrand survived after he made her think she’s drowning… just out of spite, or something? Maybe I lack imagination, but I assume if she were friendly with Sauron again in some context, she’d constantly ask herself, ‘when will he deceive me again, has he already, will he soon, will he never, what will be the little perceived insubordination that will plop the vein in his eyeball again and make him lash out and put me in my place?’ I’m sure shipping them but the more time passes, I can’t get over the fucked-upness of this guy and how he put her brain through the wringer. And I salute her integrity to hold on to her values after confronting him. I would assume this is so traumatic, it could bring about the change of her personality and a depression. Her longing for the West in later years? She’s tired of bearing the burden. Not to forget he constantly “gropes to see her”. Maybe Nenya is the only thing that keeps her from breaking. And her family. I can’t imagine any sweet feelings remaining for Sauron after this. Rather a melange of rage, horror, shame and regret which she must somehow overcome to not waste away.

Yes, I think any feelings she developed are still there, still survived. Feelings don't just disappear overnight just because someone did something mean or horrible to you. I don't believe your stance is a lack of imagination either. Why shouldn't she constantly question him? Why shouldn't she be wary of him? Why shouldn't she look over her shoulder at him? She most definitely should, in my humble opinion. While it can be argued Sauron didn't tell an outright lie, he still lied by omission, which still counts as a form of lying. Lying by omission, from a psych standpoint, allows the liar to manipulate the situation to their advantage by not revealing the truth because they weren't asked a question directly pertaining to the truth. Sauron still manipulated Galadriel, even though he never told a direct lie. He led her on to believe the falsehoods she generated herself.

Maybe it was to use her. Maybe he was genuinely scared of losing her by telling her the truth, and he simply didn't want to lose her. Maybe he was terrified of finally finding a friend and alienating that friend if she discovered the truth. There are so many ways to read this.

The problem is Galadriel grew to trust him, to see him as a friend and potentially more than that, and they developed a strong bond. This is painful for her, yes, and that doesn't just go away. Sauron dropping Galadriel into her memory of drowning, if you think about this—Sauron was the one who saved her from that. Sauron saved her from drowning, and he dropped her into that memory after she tried to stab him. Not once, but twice. Galadriel tried to kill him twice.

Now, let's rewind. Sauron saved her life. Rescued her from drowning when he didn't have to. He followed her to Middle-earth. To help her find peace. To help her save the people of the Southlands. He fought alongside her in battle. And when Galadriel finds out who he is, who he really is . . . she tries to kill him—despite all the good he has just done with her, alongside her.

Was it fucked up that he dropped her into her memory of drowning? Yes. But my reading of that scene is after everything Sauron did for Galadriel, it still wasn't enough for her to see him as a good guy. As a friend. As an ally. She wouldn't be alive to murder him if he hadn't saved her life. He saved her! That's why I don't believe everything he did was a lie. That's why I don't believe it was all manipulation. He just could have let her die, but he saved her.

Sauron dropped Galadriel back into her memory of drowning without him around to save her because without him . . . that's exactly what would have happened to her out in that ocean.

You would have died without me, it said, and yet you want me dead?

It was a reminder.

Her sorrow and pain is rooted in not being able to trust or forgive a former enemy who fought on the opposite side of a war that killed her brother, Finrod. Not only that, but it was Sauron who sent his wolves on Finrod. Finrod died because of him. I understand why this would delve her into depression. You're not wrong about that. This is a heavy burden on her, but what if she forgave him and released all that pain to the wind?

That is the pull of this ship for me. The potential of it. The 'what if' hanging in the air like a whisper on the wind. What if Galadriel forgave him? What if they had stayed friends? What if Sauron strove to be a better person? Not because of a woman, but because he had a true friend. A real companion. Someone he could actually trust. What if they had aligned together as king and queen?

What if they accepted him as one of their own instead of chasing him to the ends of the earth with their blood-soaked daggers and Elvish cries of war? What if? What if?

[hacked-by-jake]

Make sure to take care of yourself.

To you, and to everyone, take this as a reminder that it's okay to not be good at everything. It's okay to need a break, to be need to refresh your mind.

Go drink some water , grab some food. Breathe. Take your time, yourself comes first.

- Vyn, a fellow stressor.

First of all, I'm so sorry for the late reply. I feel so bad about it but it wasn't anything personal. I didn't ignore you or anything. Sometimes I just need too much time until my head is ready to answer such asks. Especially with such incredibly nice asks. I think my brain just goes straight into error mode when I see people being so freaking kind to me.

Thank you so insanely much for taking the time to write it down! What you said is so incredibly important and we will neve have enough of these reminders. We always need them and it's such a happiness spending thing to see people leaving such wonderful words for everyone else out of nowhere. It shows that we care about others which makes its so freaking awesome.

And really, this is such a big thing. You will hear from all sides "think positive" or "just get distraction" or whatever. But no, this is not always the right or best way. It's important to feel how you feel. It's important to let yourself feel how you do. You don't always have to be happy. You don't always need to push every negativity away. Of course no one wants to feel bad. But in my eyes, what I experienced through therapy etc, and I adore the words, it's: "radical acceptance". I love it. It's hard and I don't manage it every time. But it's so much easier and healthier than trying to just push everything away.

It's okay to feel bad. It okay to not smile 24/7. And if you're on a bad state, if you don’t feel good for any reason, the healthiest way is to learn to just accept it.

Tell yourself "okay, I'm not doing good right now and it's okay", because it is okay. It's always okay. Trying to ignore the sadness or the anger or the loneliness or similar, is much more exhausting. And it takes so much effort to always ignore it. And the harder you try to push it away, the stronger those emotions become. I'm sure we all know that feeling. But radically accepting this is how it is right now, is healthy and trust me, it's a huge relief once you convinced yourself. When you can sit there and be like "okay, I'm not good and that's okay". I won't lie, it's hard and need training until you can do it without questioning or not really listening to it. As I said, I also struggle with it. But repeating it and reminding yourself is important and helpful. You deserve to be handled the kindest way. And it's to allow yourself to not be good all the damn time. Nobody is happy 24/7. No one. Not a single person on this earth. Everyone who tries to act like it is a lier. You won't become happier when you always act as if you are. But you might become "happier" if you start being kind to yourself and accepting. Be soft with yourself. Be sensitive. Be a "cry baby", if you feel like it. It's okay. You're allowed to have emotions. You're allowed to feel the emotions. We have emotions for a reason. They're there. Let's accept having emotions in a world where every single person, every baby or animal has them.

And don't get me wrong. Wanting or needing distraction is not always a bad thing. As long as you don't beat yourself up for feeling bad in any way it's absolutely okay to look for distraction. You can accept how you feel and still use distraction. The goal is just not to simply push it away but to feel how you feel and finding distraction then.

Okay, I'm going to stop now because I think your ask made everything wonderfully clear. Just also as a reminder for yourself, lovely anon.

I'm extremely sorry that it took me such a long time to answer this ask. But the truth is, the moment I saw your words, my heart melted. It is so lovely to get such asks out of nowhere. I wasn't expecting it at all. And in my eyes, it's one of the most amazing things to see people leaving lovely words for everyone to read. Love to everyone out of nowhere. This is just pure kindness and caring about other people, even if you don’t know them. And we need more of this nowadays.

So, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. It means more than the world to me and I seriously could not be more grateful. You deserve nothing but the best, anon.

You're loved and important! You are just perfectly right, exactly as you are!.

Please, take always care of yourself. And stay healthy and safe. All my love goes out to you. 💚

[insert-funny-url-here]

Hey random life pro tip but you can and should always examine your thoughts, opinions, beliefs, and assumptions because they all come from somewhere. ESPECIALLY the ones you take for granted. It can be super helpful to just get a little curious and ask yourself "hm. That's interesting. Where did I learn that?" (The answer is usually your parents/family or culture/society/religion).

For example, if you feel worthless because you don't have a job, take a moment to think about where you learned that you need a job to be a valuable member of humanity. That idea didn't come out of nowhere. It probably came from being raised in a capitalist society built on the Protestant work ethic. This also applies to ideas like "I'm boring" or "I'm ugly" or "nobody likes/loves me" or "nobody will like me if I x" or "I have to do x or else y" or "x people are y" or really any other thought/belief.

Importantly, you should not shame or judge yourself when you realize that some of your thoughts/beliefs may have come from somewhere you *really* disagree with. I think this happens a lot for folks who leave a religion or political party and keep some lingering values like purity, keeping up appearances, and needing to atone for "sin". There's nothing to be ashamed of during this process because it's our weird, squishy brains that hold onto values so tightly without us necessarily consciously knowing that it's happening. Our brains don't come ready-made with the ability to disentangle your more conscious beliefs that you may have fully abandoned from less conscious ones that you've perhaps never noticed without conscious effort. When you notice these things, simply acknowledge them, label them, and ask yourself questions about where they came from and if you truly do believe them and why.

This is a continuous process that can take someone's whole life, because we are constantly picking up messages from others around us about how we as human animals "MUST" live in this world. I'm not going to lie and say this is an easy process to go through because you will likely be tempted to feel guilty and ashamed about holding beliefs that don't like up with your actual values, but just remember that it ALWAYS makes sense why/how you got to this point. We are all products of our genetics, relationships, and life experiences, and if you work hard enough and have enough information, you can track down where all the different parts of you came from. I would also highly recommend getting yourself set up with a counselor who you like and trust because they can help you work through disentangling these things without shame.

REEXAMINE YOUR BELIEFS ALWAYS. YOUR THOUGHTS ARE NOT REALITY, THEY ARE JUST THOUGHTS MADE BY YOUR SQUISHY ELECTRIC MEAT.

[katyspersonal]

I used to take meds back then from autumn 2018 to autumn 2019. They were helping with paranoia, hyperactivity, impulsivity, anger issues, delusions, panic attacks, etc, you get the drill. They had good effects, such as me having been rather calm (to the point people were joking about how nothing could ever anger or scare me, lol), as well as more focused on writing or drawing things more than I've ever been in my life. But also they've made me so sleepy that I basically barely finished my last uni year when dozing off at every class, and I had a hard time providing the engaged, invested, "nerdy" conversations on every other topic like I do. I just quit them because not only being sleepy ALL the time would not let me work a job normally, but I also started to worry that I've been losing myself as a person. I was just so... detached and boring in conversations while medicated? Like you guys here know me as a person who is chronically like this:

But when I was medicated, it was far not this way. I was giving like... kinda tame and normie responses and thoughts, still excited but not TOO excited, etc. I am surprised that even while being a total slug on meds, I still had it in me to start fearing of losing my "eyes on the inside" xd

But I've been just thinking about stuff recently. I still loathe it when it is being handled like "you are a dangerous harmful monster that doesn't deserve compassion and trust and should be exciled from society", obvs, but the problem itself exists. I am kinda too intense, too much, too impulsive, my mood can drastically flicker within a second and flicker back just as fast. And I am paranoid. This year I even exhausted another paranoid person with being worse at it than them :/ (it always reminds me of a dream I had once, where Mic0lash of all people told me that I was "too crazy" for him fdshfh xD) I am extremely blessed to have friends and simply familiar people who accept and love me the way I am, but I am really starting to think that maybe I should delve back into it. That maybe something was wrong with the meds or the dose I used to be taking and I should try again. It is just really strange that being healthier would be able to "ruin" my passionate, nerdy, engaged personality. I've always been 'over the top' with how I think and with my creativity, even before any mental illness showed up, so sure it is just me and not any sort of positive symptom...? Like, clearly this is just my autism, not one of those other "mental illness" guys?

Well, all this talk is just in the scenario if I get enough financial stability to be able to afford monthly repackaging of meds. I am just having second thoughts on whether it is really a choice with no good option, and that maybe that previous doctor just made a mistake with prescriptions (could happen with anyone, even a professional). Or maybe I needed to demand trying something else but didn't. And I just assumed that "meds are a diabolic device to destroy a creative, nonconforming brain" (notice how it itself sounds a bit like a paranoid delusion, so clearly those meds were not quite helping with it lol). Not gonna lie, I am still scared that being calmer will kill the "real me", but at this point pain, paranoia and anger keep chopping away from my days and from my good experiences. And I can't control it.

But maybe I just should not have expected to hit the right way instantly, some people try out different meds for years before they find something that genuinely makes life better. Like maybe I got scared of how things have changed and gave up too soon, when I should have like, bugged doctor to try something else. I just want to believe that I don't have to choose between "being nerdy and engaged" and "stopping having panic/anger attacks that quite literally make me lose my mind". At least I gather enough optimism and benefit of the doubt to consider delving into it again, so there is something..

[emmythespacecowgirl]

Fandom: BoB Gender/Pronouns: Female. She/Her. Sexuality: Straight Gender Preference: Male Appearance: I am 5’6, black hair just past my shoulders, brown eyes that I’m learning to love. I have light olive skin in the summertime that pales a bit during winter due to lack of sunny weather. I wear minimal makeup, keep it more natural. My hair either in a ponytail or bun for practicality. Only letting it down during the evening. About me: I grew up too fast due to childhood trauma that made me distrust men; to put it politely as I can without triggering anyone who reads this. So sex is, well, patience is required ^^”. For the longest time I went through dark depression, and recent years, I’ve managed to overcome the ‘S’-word and not looked back. I’m kinda proud about that, to be honest. PTSD still grips me in the form of nightmares, trust issues and anxiety. I think I formed a hardened shell around myself because I’ve become this hard-ass stranger trying to protect this sweet little girl trapped inside and it hurts that I have to protect her from the world. So only a select few get to see the real me. Trusting people is a major issue. It causes heartbreak when you put your trust in someone, utterly loyal and they break with a lie or something worse. I wish I was braver than I come across. So many fields of occupations I could have chosen but anxiety prevented me in doing so. But then, if I chose to become a Nurse or followed through Boot Camp, I wouldn’t be here asking for a ship XD I hate the cold. I hate loud noise (loud music blaring, overlapping of TV, Music, Chatter all at once). Main Flaws: Shutting down when there’s a problem. My brain can’t deal with confrontation so I have nothing to offer in an argument. I need to just go away and process everything before I have an answer. Also, I’m not good at seeking someone else out to have a ‘Hey can I talk to you about something?’ off my chest-situation. I just find a quiet place to sit, stare and sometimes cry. I don’t seek out comfort either – simply because I don’t want to burden that person. I don't like ice-cream or sweet-tooth desserts (apparently that's a flaw because everyone is flabbergasted when I turn down icecream) Hobbies: I love to read. I used to be an avid bookworm but that slowed down in recent years but I’m starting to find a routine and pick that back up again. I love photography; particularly photographing sunsets. It makes me soft. I love listening to music. Remember when I said I grew up too fast? Well… I think I’m an old soul stuck in a young person’s body because I adore listening to 40s music on the Record Player. Also have a tendency to bake to music too. I’ve actually also discovered I love sitting outside in the evening and eating dinner or having a drink. Just enjoy the weather. Personality: Introvert but more open with the right people if I’m comfortable with them. (I don’t do astrology signs because I don’t believe in allowing the alignment of the sun and moon dictate how I do the dishes). Pet Peeves: Oof…uh… not tidying up. Like, don’t leave a dirty cup on the table when you can put it in the sink. Put that pen away, don’t just leave it there. TV remote goes back in the drawer when you’re not using it. Not making the bed. Oh my god. Make the damn bed. Love Language: despite trauma, physical touch (not mollycoddling touch) helps. It also helps build that trust back in the male species. Hugs are pretty important. Words. I don’t require some lovey-dovey speech, but a few firm words of reassurance helps deeply. Other: I love the idea of slow-dancing. I never get to. But it’d be nice? To walk, arm around the crook of my lovers elbow as he take a walk along the path before sundown. Soft vibes would melt me. I love spring/summer weather. I love the smell of freshly mowed grass and rain on hot cement. Insecurities: Not feeling like I’m good enough. I don’t burden this onto people but it’s always nagging at the back of my mind.

I ship you with:

Doc Roe from Band of Brothers!

ship theme song: Dancing in the Dark by Artie Shaw

I think our Doc Roe can thaw you out :)

he's a Louisiana gentleman through and through

so he would never want to make you uncomfortable

he first notices you in England

you're both training in your respective medical units

but he can tell that you look slightly uncomfortable and in desperate need of a friend

I think Doc Roe sees a lot of his own qualities in you

so he's able to understand what you're thinking or feeling a good 90% of the time

oh and did i mention that he thinks you're the most striking creature he's ever seen??

he loves your black hair

he especially loves seeing it down and in it's natural style

you remind him of nature because there's nothing made up about you

you don't have to try hard to be pretty

Doc wouldn't change a thing <3

the trick will be getting you introduced to each other

since's you're both introverted, it'll probably take some outside force to get you two to connect

the first couple of dates might be a little awkward

but then Doc invites you dancing at this tiny dance hall in Aldbourne one night

its probably the most fun that you two have had together!

Gene is a humble yet very smooth dancer

almost a natural talent

it's actually where you share your first kiss together <3

the lights are all dim on the dance floor

and you both just feel like very safe in the anonymity of the other dancers

it's during "Dancing in the Dark"

ugh! perfection!!

y'all do all the cute spring activities together in England!

Gene is a big fan of spring

it's his favorite season actually

he makes it his life's mission to to draw you out of your shell and put you at ease

since your love languages match perfectly

i see lots of endless hand-holding

Gene could walk miles with your hand in his

as far as anything sexual goes

Doc is perfectly fine with taking things slowly

as long as you're comfortable and safe

that's all that matters to him

Gene also is no stranger to PTSD either

you both comfort each other when someone wakes up from a nightmare

Gene is a particularly gifted reassurance-giver

it's the soothing tone of his voice

and yes, the cajun accent does help, too

but the dude knows exactly how to calm your nerves

Gene is also a pretty perceptive caretaker

he can sense when you're upset

and he'll never let you cry alone

his shoulder is always free to cry on

"shh, ma cherie," he coos to you

Gene feels blessed and honored that he gets to be one of those rare people who gets to see your most vulnerable and naive side

he stills thinks you're the most strong person he's ever met

anything you tell Gene in confidence will be taken to the grave

you spend hours together in Bastogne

snuggled under the same blanket in a fox hole

and fantasizing about the big house you'll buy together when you get back home

one with a big wrap-around porch

Gene knows how you love to be outside

he loves the idea that you can be both outside and inside at the same time

because you could technically listen to your favorite records from the stereo system inside :)

PLEASE bake this man something!!

he will love it !

[lizard12323]

TW/CW: Vent, random/unsorted thoughts, possibly sensitive topics.

Please do not proceed if you are sensitive to any of these.

...

Do you ever want to say something but don't know how to say it. You don't know which words to pick. It's easy to say in your mind, but impossible to actually say it.

Or maybe you don't have the strength, courage or will to do it.

My problems with communication aren't the fact that others can't understand me when I say something. It's that I choose not to say much. I can say whatever my brain wants to vomit but I simply decide that it's not worth it.

My thoughts are a mess, what I write is usually a mess of colors and if I mix them just enough... They'll become brown, or impossible to understand in my opinion.

That's why I usually add black to all of it. If I can't understand, then no one might.

I can remember stuff that hurt me in a way. Maybe a stupid thing I said to you is still in my memory, hurting me, gnawing at my mind, making me feel like a terrible person.

Writing, being creative in my own way. Not too different from before. And I feel like I will be judged, rumoured about and accused. It's also related to anything I say.

It's mostly when it comes to people I barely talk to. Those who barely know me.

But those who I'm close to? I tried asking one of them whether there was a thing they hated about me. They said they can't think of anything negative. Yet I have a nagging feeling that they're just pretending so I wouldn't feel bad.

I won't feel bad. They are important to me. I'd never try intentionally ruining that closeness. I don't want to end up losing something or someone and having the need to "replace" that thing. Don't even start talking about replacing a person, it's not what I want.

It's not what I need. Not what I want. Not what I need.

I'm trying to be there for someone close. I wish to have the same in return, like a symbiotic relationship. Yet it's not for no reason. No. It's a result of wanting to. Not just to use that for my benefit.

When I lose something. I'm always afraid of not having that. I'm afraid of not having access to my friends. I'm afraid of them doing something terrible, that I could've prevented.

I don't feel like I'm required to do something for a stranger, specifically when that stranger didn't do anything for me.

Trust me. I'm not your savior. I barely know you. What do you mean I'm not going to know the possibility of what you can become. And if I do know you yet not help. Then I know what you said to me and about me.

Call me a bitch. But what did you do? Nothing.

I have feelings. You should not assume which ones. I'm always hiding at least a small thing behind my words.

And when I am honest? Then I am honest.

I lie only because I don't want anyone worrying. I don't want people to be sad over me. I don't want them to feel like they owe me anything.

[funisanecessity]

Responsibility towards vs. Responsibility for the gaps, holes, and pits of life.

"Life has a gap in it—it just does. You don't go crazy trying to fill it like some lunatic."

I have a tendency to browse libraries, pulling interesting things off shelves.

During college I pulled out a copy of Take This Waltz, thinking it would be about dancing (I love dancing), but it turned out to be a fascinating novel-like musing on love, life, addiction, fidelity, art, and the ways we try to fill the gap, the hole, the pit that is that aching part of consciousness. I was in the midst of what would become an almost five-year relationship when I watched the movie alone in an empty seminar room, rapt.

I can't remember a whole lot about the movie. There was cooking. There was a gym. There were swimming classes and two competing partners and the artsy, unsafe one won out and there was more sex than my prudish brain was comfortable with at the end so I kind of fastforwarded through, terrified and fascinated.

But the stickiest stuck thing was that first quote about the gappiness of life. ***

I was talking with my therapist today, having a very triggered six-on-the-enneagram conversation about a fear of my social world dropping out from under me if I managed to do enough unusual things to be deemed wholly unacceptable.

She asked what I was really afraid of, and I said The Pit. The pit of depression, but also the pit of loneliness, of having to do this inhumane task of living on a planet in the face of death and suffering alone, without people who know, who care.

And she asked me about the worst case scenario, about what it said about me if that happened.

And it was oddly calming? Like if the worst case scenario happens I'm no longer falling, I've fallen, and there's a bottom.

What drives me a bit mad is the uncertainty.

Like I know there's a bottom, or strongly suspect, due to the whole mortality thing, but this interim period of doing life, so full of love and loss is so tricky.

And I've bought into the whole free will thing, I'm willing to play the game that assumes that my choices matter. Which is freeing and hopeful but also rife with responsibility.

To myself, to other people. That was another thing Kelly, my therapist, pointed out. That I seemed to be very interested in responsibility. She talked about being responsible towards people as being different than being responsible for people and their reactions, which felt really liberating.

We talked about ways to interact with people with whom I'd had very gappy/holey/pitty relationships. Ones I valued, but ones that didn't always hold my weight.

I talked about ways to be responsible towards them without being responsible for them. I could act within my values, then step back, hoping for the best, but expecting nothing.

****

Dear Person,

I have seen the ways you've tried to get in contact with me.

I would like to say "Don't worry, I'm not avoiding you," but the thing is,

I am avoiding you, and while I don't want you to worry (the world has enough to worry about), I do want you to think.

I haven't been in touch with you because I have felt like you decided that something about me was unacceptable to you.

According to you, have a partner isn't smart enough for me. You have a history of judging people's partners, and that makes me feel like you're unlikely to change. I know you want the best for me, but your version of "the best" left you in a very abusive relationship, so I want you to keep your opinions to yourself, and I also want healing for you, but I don't know how to tell you that without hurting you, and I don't want to hurt you, so I've been silent.

According to you, I owe you thanks and attention simply for doing part of what you said you would do, then breaking your promises in other ways. You expect me to move on when you lie, with minimal if any accountability. I've tried telling you what would help heal those tears in trust, but you haven't engaged in ways that show progress. I want to keep trying, but it hurts my heart to fall in a similar hole again and again. I'm done for a while. I'm not going to tell you that, though. I'm just going to keep my distance. We'll be on a need-to-know basis, and I'll watch and pray for signs of transformation.

We haven't talked in ages because the last time we talked you seemed resentful that I wasn't more responsive. You've talked about resenting other people who stopped talking to you. You said stuff about a friend who has significant struggles not struggling in real ways, not struggling as much as you. And I do not know whether or not you were joking, because if you weren't joking, your idea of your own pain is pretty wild. I am not comfortable in our friendship if that's where you're at, though I am guessing life has hurt you terribly for you to be there. I haven't wanted to tell you directly because I don't want to hurt you worse by giving you my reasons for my silence, and I don't want to lie to you either just to smooth things over. I want the distance I've created, unless something significant has changed for you. That said, I know we'll run into each other eventually because our friend groups overlap and I want to set some intentions. I like our shared hobbies, we have some nice memories, but I'm not available to be responsible to you in the ways I've observed are important to you, and I understand that that might not feel good to hear. I don't mean to hurt you, and I do wish you well. I hope we'll be able to interact well when our paths cross, and if you find that you have a genuine openness to casual interaction, I appreciate it. I'm sorry I'd seen down for traveling to visit you in the past then hadn't followed through. The desire was there both times, but my willingness to spend money and complete the logistics, paired with some concern about how we'd coexist in the context you invited me to just wasn't able to make the visits happen. I hope I'll have the courage to ask for clarity or be clear on my no's rather than lingering if there are future encounters between us.

I know I agreed to be responsive to our mentoring, and I suggested a time frame when I would be able to do our next meeting. You wanted it to be sooner, which is fair to request, and I tried to stretch, but we weren't able to find a date. I'm game to re-engage after the original time I'd suggested for one of these three times (1, 2, 3). If none of those are available, could you suggest some that are? I understand if the scheduling aspect of our mentoring collaboration has become unwieldy--it's okay if it's a goodbye for now. I'm sure many others will benefit from your time and I am grateful you are doing work that seems to nourish you and while also benefitting others.

I am checking in about the question regarding filing locations and timings, and touching base about the upcoming application. I'll be in NYC as of September 18th at _____TIME____ and am hoping to get my application turned in and biometrics completed as soon as possible. I saw there were requests for further information, and a few more documents to complete. I've completed those requirements as best as possible, and here are my remaining questions: What if I don't know my return date? How many family/community statements are helpful/recommended?

Hi there, thank you for your patience with delays in communication. I'm grateful for your grace and for your willingness to share your expertise. I'll be home by early October and would love to schedule a time to check in with our investment relationship, to see how my accounts are doing, and to plan for some values-based investing and immigration planning in coming years.

****

I think these notes may help sew patches across some of the holes, plug up some of the gaps, or toss plywood over the pits.

I think they'll meet my responsibilities towards communicating with reasonable promptness with people without me making myself responsible for their feelings.

And I hope they might help you build some bridges in your own life. These are real drafts of messages I hope to send or speak.

I wish you gentleness for your days, and good rest tonight,

ANM

[ftb-writes]

It is time!!!!

The next piece will be another fan work, a Breath of the Wild one. Also, fun fact about a name in this one! Kyryap is a Russian word for a panther!

Pokee had, for all intents and purposes, settled into life on the strange new planet well. The Exiled rather liked the hunting prospects here -- he'd have to tell the Elders about this place once he was allowed back into the tribe.

Pokee-Stick sets his weapons to the side for now and shakes his head at the sheer irony of the situation he had stumbled into -- as a Young Blood on his first hunt.

He and his hunting party had discovered a new colony of Xenomorphs. The Elite who had been leading the excursion had decided this was a bit too much of a challenge, and had called for backup to assist the Young Bloods-- during the retreat, however, Pokee had stepped wrong, and the soil under him had collapsed into an underground cavern.

The Yautja had found himself face-to-face with the Queen, and several very angry Praetorians blocking the exit. The only thing nearby was a fallen branch, which Pokee had picked up and brandished like a sword.

Oh, but the Queen had laughed. A silly, tiny, armor-clad thing, his shoulder pads were much too big, his only defense was a bit of wood. Pokee, in desperation, drove the stick into her head. And somehow, blindly, he had found a weak spot. A scar perhaps, some soft point from a previous injury. But the Queen lay oozing brains at his feet, and the Praetorians had scattered, leaderless and wild.

Pokee had earned his scar, a burn from the acidic blood that had splashed onto him as the Queen fell, and his Name. And Pokee had felt very much alive.

It was on the way back to the transport, the other young bloods congratulating Pokee on such a difficult kill, that fate would intervene. They had looked like a Prowler, the rogue Xenomorph, red markings and feline grace, a long, whip-like tail clearing the brush behind them. They had scented the dead Queen on Pokee, and a simple mistake was blown far out of proportion. Because the Xenomorph had thought that Pokee was their Queen.

Upon returning to the clan, the Elders had told Pokee he was exiled until he could kill Kyryap; but Kyryap hasn't raised a claw against Pokee so far. Not to mention, Pokee sincerely doubted that Kyryap would even attempt to defend themselves from 'the Queen'. It simply wouldn't be an honorable kill.

Which puts Pokee in a bit of a predicament. This whole mess is Kyryap's fault, but it isn't like they intended for this all to happen. The Xeno had just been following their instincts, and has even been helping Pokee hunt prey big enough for the both of them to thrive, and drive off predators that could threaten the small homestead they'd somehow built together.

That is the other dilemma -- Pokee couldn't even explain to Kyryap that they were mortal enemies; the two have made frustratingly little progress on the language barrier. Xenomorph communication is largely non-syllabic, based on gurgles, body language, and pheromones. Pokee wishes he could understand, only to know why Kyryap stayed.

A year ago, yes, he'd smelt like a Queen. But now, Kyryap had to know that he wasn't. It feels like living a lie -- a misunderstanding left uncorrected. Pokee hates himself, that Kyryap is so trusting. When the Xeno had curled close, during the first cold, dark months here, Pokee had felt guilt. Now, he's just confused.

Kyryap comes in, now, rain sluicing off their exoskeleton, and gurgles as they drip on the woven floor mats. The Xenomorph offers up some berries to Pokee.

Pokee wishes he could hear someone else speaking to him again, just once, in a way he understands. It has been so lonely here, despite the near-constant companion. The rain drums on the thatch roof above, and Pokee shakes his head sadly.

"I don't know if I can eat those," he clicks, trying vainly to explain that they're so different once more. Kyryap is a Xenomorph, and Pokee is a Yautja, and the two should not be on remotely good terms.

Yet they hunt, together, and Kyryap finds little nooks and crannies in the largely rocky terrain where hardy little plants grow, worming through crags and crevices that Pokee is too broad-chested to fit, climbs the few trees with a quick agility matching Pokee's to scare out groups of smaller prey on the days that the large animals are far off.

Now, Kyryap holds out the little handful of bright green berries again, insistent. Pokee… doesn't know what to do. These little hiccups have been happening more and more frequently, and Pokee has had a recurring, treacherous desire to be a Xenomorph if only to be able to communicate with another lifeform. It is a thought stuffed away deep, not looked at except on the darkest nights, while Kyryap slumbers on the other side of the sleeping room.

But Pokee wants conversation, understanding. He's so lonely.

"I can't," Pokee tries again, tired, but soft with the one being who hasn't abandoned him despite the entire universe silently screaming at them. "You somehow eat more than me, anyway."

Kyryap holds up a berry, and their inner jaws snap out to pluck it from between their fingers almost delicately. As if showing Pokee that it is meant to be eaten. And Kyryap carefully selects a large berry from their hands and offers it up to Pokee, held between two razor-sharp nails.

"Kyryap," Pokee sighs, and the Xeno whines. It is a sound Pokee has never heard them make, and it's… pleading, almost.

Just one shouldn't hurt, Pokee supposes, if it stops Kyryap from fussing. The little green berry has thin, blueish membranes under the skin, and Pokee turns it over curiously before placing it between his teeth. It bursts sweet on his tongue.

He doesn't die, at least not yet. Pokee watches Kyryap watch him chew the gummy berry and swallow.

After a moment, Kyryap offers up another.

Pokee did… enjoy the berry. And it didn't kill him. One more couldn't hurt, and Kyryap shuffles closer as Pokee readily accepts the offered fruit.

He eats eight, each sweeter than the last.

"Alright, they are good," he concedes, after the two of them have eaten the handful together. "My gratitude." Kyryap nods, and tilts their head down and to the side to watch him from one strange eye.

'Do you… hear me now?'

Pokee flinches, so unused to words at this point, and lunges for his weapons, any one. He has a horrible, gut-churning thought that the Elders have decided not to wait any longer, and sent someone to kill Kyryap for him.

Kyryap intercepts him, as if they've done this a million times before, pushing him back to settling on the mats, patting his arms gently.

'Do you… hear me now?'

The voice is whisper soft, a breath on the wind, completely without echo. It is like it is spoken into his ear, only for Pokee to know, and Pokee -- Pokee understands.

"Kyryap," he whimpers, hopeful and terrified in equal measures. Because it can't be.

'That is what you say to know me,' the Xeno replies, smooth. 'The berry allows us to share thoughts.'

"But I'm--" Pokee starts to question, and Kyryap chuckle-hisses and shakes their head fondly.

'Works on all. Had to look all over for them. Silly, scent-deaf Queen.'

The words thrum with reverence, and Pokee feels tears prick his eyes as he kneels on the mat across from Kyryap and the truth tumbles out of him like a secret, "I'm no Queen. Kyryap, I'm not."

'You are a Queen of my choosing,' Kyryap insists. 'But I would apologize, my Queen. Your colony cast you away because of me, or that is what I think happened.' Kyryap shifts forward, close enough to bump his forehead, and nuzzles a comfort. 'But you let me stay. You named me, and you let me stay, even though it's been a bit inconvenient for you, Yautja Queen, and I chose you, have chosen you every day. Rogues need no Queen, yet I evolve again for you. I will be a Praetorian. I will be your colony.'

"I'm a Yautja, you even know it," Pokee laughs wetly. "I can't make more of you. We'll be alone, and I am meant to kill you. Yautja and Xenomorphs are always enemies."

'Then we will be a colony of two, Yautja Queen, and the only such colony ever to exist. You are no enemy of mine, and I hunt only for you. I am your Praetorian, your guard -- your Elite. Other Queens will not understand, but we will fight them together.'

"I don't understand," Pokee whispers. "You follow me to death."

'I will help you to understand, now,' Kyryap breathes, gentle, into his mind. The voice is quieter, as if coming from farther away. 'You claim I follow you to death, my Queen, but you are my life. The last Queen was weak, she did not name us. A Queen through blood, but nothing more. You saved me. My life, and death, are but yours to command.'

"It's not like I'm even infected. You would follow a Queen that shares no blood with you?"

Pokee's question goes unanswered. It seems the ability the berries grant only lasts so long. Kyryap snorts and shakes their head, before moving to encircle Pokee in the curve of their side and tail, head resting upon an armored shoulder. Pokee wants to howl, to scream. It has been so long since there was another voice to keep him company, and it's gone again.

They sit together, Kyryap providing near-silent comfort and a rumbling purr, before the Xeno nudges at Pokee repeatedly, and more insistent. Pokee allows the Rogue -- the Praetorian, if what Kyryap says is true -- to coax him to his feet and lead him out into the rain.

It's almost torrential now. The rainy season of the planet is apparently coming on fast and hard. Sheets of water buffet the unlikely pair as Kyryap winds around rocky ridges and outcrops, into the canyon-laced area the homestead abuts. This is an area rich in mineral ores and game, as prey come down into the shadowed fissures to escape the heat of the usual sunny days. The crevasses provide only moderate shelter from the deluge.

Kyryap examines small nooks and crannies as they pass, searching dutifully. Pokee shivers in the damp chill, and glances up the sides of the deepening canyons, watchful as always of predators following food into here. He almost misses Kyryap sliding, squirming, into a crack in the rocky wall too thin for Pokee to squeeze into.

It's too quiet, now, Pokee so used to Kyryap's presence after this long. He waits, dutiful, as the minutes stretch.

"Kyryap?" He calls after nearly half an hour. Immediately, he hears an echoing trill, further in and down from the sound of it. After another moment, Kyryap wriggles out into Pokee's space, triumphantly brandishing several large vine segments weighed heavy with green berries.

The next harvest is a bountiful one, baskets and baskets of bright green berries for Pokee to eat throughout the day. The homestead has grown to accommodate the small farms and a couple more rooms, carved resolutely into the unwilling rock the planet is made up of. The berries only grow in true shadow, and store best in cool darkness, so the additions are necessary for Pokee's continued communication with his Xenomorph.

They have guests, today, four members from the tribe. Pokee welcomes them inside, out of the heat of the daylight, and smiles proudly as the hulking, crested Praetorian brings a whole basketful of berries, woven from the vines the berries grew on. He feels Kyryap settle, huge and intimidating, at his shoulder, watching the guests for any sign of ill-intent.

The guests don't eat right away. They demand answers to the Elders' questions, an Elite Pokee hasn't met and three Blooded, all from the ill-fated hunting party. The Blooded, at least, are polite to him, but the Elite growls at the odd pair and complains about the long-lasting construction that's gone into the homestead. Pokee doesn't need the berries to know Kyryap doesn't like this one.

"It's a sturdy home," one of the Blooded compliments, after most of the Elite's bluster has run its course. "But the Elders are concerned. Clearly, it's still alive, and it appears to us that you have every intention to stay here, Pokee. You could be an Elite, an Elder, given the time and experience. You would throw away your honor for one of these?"

"Have a few," Pokee avoids, motioning to the basket. He pops the berries one at a time every few minutes by now, savoring the additional benefits as long as each berry can provide. "They're really very good. Kyryap found them."

"He's named it," the other two Blooded whisper amongst themselves, and it takes effort for Pokee not to frown at them.

"I will answer your questions, if you give me the time to do so," he sighs, "but you're being very rude about all this, quite frankly, and it has been some time since I've been able to get news from off-planet. Still trying to work out the bugs in the communicator I built."

Pokee gestures behind himself at the beginnings of a basic, long-range communicator, and the guests are disgusted to see a long insect with seemingly infinite legs crawl out of it.

"Literally," Pokee grumbles, and watches as Kyryap reaches over and picks the creature -- about a foot long -- up and slurps it for a snack. "Kyryap, gross, eat over the table, please! You'll get guts on the floor again, and I'm going to be the one cleaning it up!"

He turns back to the four visitors just in time to see one bite into a berry. The Blooded chews, and goes pale. "These are Shaman Berries," he excitedly tells the Elite. "Elder Salanis told me of these! Elite Kanlac said they've become rare back home!"

At this, the other three finally begin picking at the berries, missing the grin on Pokee's face. The former Young Blood had forgone his mask and armor months ago, but he's very careful in schooling his face into expressions slightly more recognizable to Kyryap. They've both done a lot of adjusting, but their abnormal bond has grown stronger for it.

"They let groups of consumers share thoughts when nearby," one Blooded is explaining to his fellows. "This is a kingly gift you welcome us with, Pokee-Stick!"

'A queenly gift, I'd say,' Kyryap interrupts, and chuckle-hisses as the other Yautja all freeze. 'Wouldn't you agree, my Yautja Queen?'

"A queenly gift, indeed," Pokee snickers, popping another berry between his teeth. "Go check on that lovely egg of ours, won't you, Kyryap? After all, we got it through such… unconventional means."

'Stealing eggs,' Kyryap sighs into their minds. 'You're a terrible influence, my Queen.'

Still, the Xenomorph turns and crosses the space to a low archway, opening onto a set of stairs that lead down into the chiseled-out incubation cellar the two had built for just this purpose. The stairs are cool, and shallow pools of water line the floor here. Kyryap brushes a careful finger along the single egg inside this small room, and smiles. Together, they are building a colony with Pokee, in rather odd fashion. Kyryap leads the Queen's tiny force, while Pokee researches ways of communicating with his colony properly.

Upstairs, Pokee turns back to the visitors and rolls his eyes. "I suppose it would be easier if Kyryap infected me and I became a Predalien, as the oomans called them," he grumbles good-naturedly. The Elite looks mortified.

'And as I keep saying,' Kyryap snips from below, thoughts curling tender and safe around Pokee's, 'I will not infect you. It would not be you after that, not really.'

"You could be the Queen, then," Pokee challenges, and smirks at his guests as Kyryap's response comes.

'YOU are my Queen,' the Xeno rumbles through the berries, firm but not harsh -- never harsh with their Queen. 'The Queen of our colony. I. Will. Not.'

"You would make a good Queen," Pokee teases, only half-joking. "I'd follow you."

Kyryap's thoughts go all tangled and jumbled, so even the berries can't help, as they only do when the Xeno is embarrassed at Pokee's warm, honest compliments.

"My Praetorian," Pokee rumbles, proud, and feels through the thoughts they share a swelling of pride from Kyryap's end as well. "Never leave me."

'Never.' Kyryap agrees, unflinching, as they return to their Queen's side, and the two fix unwavering gazes on their guests.

"Well, Elite? I believe this answers your questions."

The Elite shakes his head. "Yet leaves even more. You will not kill it?"

Anger, then, hot as fire, bleeds across the table from Pokee. He's frowning now, and stands, pulling a weapon down from a shelf on the wall. It is the very same branch that earned him his name, sharpened still. "Kyryap has shown time and again that they mean no harm -- to me, at least. They have been an invaluable assistance here, after you all cast me aside, and have been nothing but respectful -- even to you, who come demanding their death. It would be a dishonorable killing, and I will not endanger my Praetorian by bringing them back to the clan with me to prove this before the Elders. I know you all hope my promising skill would someday return to our home planet, but my clan -- my colony -- is here now. The hunting will sustain us, and my colony, small as it may be, will not just survive but flourish on this planet. I will not abandon Kyryap."

"Then you will die here with it," the Elite pronounces, just in time for the Facehugger clinging to the ceiling above him to slap onto his shoulder and worm up under his mask.

"There are three more for you," Pokee warns, as the Elite crashes to the floor, spasming. "If you do as I say, you'll leave this place yourselves."

The three Blooded clump together, terrified for maybe the first time in their lives, staring up at Pokee and the enormous Praetorian shadowing him.

"You will leave this planet untouched, and allow my colony peace to grow. If you do not come after us, we will not come to Yautja Prime." Pokee replaces the weapon and motions to the basket. "I will allow you to take these. Perhaps, with continued good relations such as this, peace will come between Yautja Prime and us. Tell the clan you killed us, if it will help at first, but that the Elite sacrificed himself to bring down Kyryap." Pokee opens his arms, and a Chestburster drops into his embrace to cuddle into his face and brush careful legs against his flesh-braids. They purr as they get comfortable.

"Yes, Yautja Queen," one of the Blooded whispers. Pokee smiles, feral. The three can see now, eyes adjusted to the dark inside the building, that the ceiling is crawling with Facehuggers and Chestbursters, and one solitary Runner perches just above the stairs to the incubation chamber.

"Oh, and one more thing," Pokee mumbles, turning to look back at the communicator. "Once I get this up and running, feel free to let us know about any… abandoned eggs you may come across. After all, if you help my colony grow, I'll want to keep you around, yes?" Pokee's feral grin softens as he turns his gaze onto Kyryap. "You and Bryg see them out, please?"

The Praetorian nods once, and they and the Runner flank the three trembling Blooded. "Safe travels," Pokee clicks, turning to examine the Elite's still body.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Lonely Times

I've been hooked on time loop Steddie fics, that's my drug of choice. And I have thoughts because when don't I have those...

What would it look like if one of the time loop conditions was that Steve can't tell anyone? Whenever he tries to, there is an immediate reset, and Steve tries working around it, really does, but it's as if whatever caused this wants him to suffer alone. He goes through several rapid loops just trying to communicate his concerns, but that's a no-go. Changing their plan turns out to be way more difficult because Steve isn't the brains of the group and everyone tends to trust Nancy more with planning, so he sets out to collect as much information as possible on his own.

Apart from the obvious downsides to all of this - dying, seeing his loved ones die, the healing of his wounds resetting every day - the worst part is having to pretend not to know anything others are saying. The vision Vecna showed Nancy? He knows it word by word, but if he tries to interrupt, summarize it faster, click, a reset happens. So he has to play his part, nod along, ask questions - at least his reactions don't need to stay the same, but it's tedious and it makes him feel so alone.

He's tried talking to Eddie more times than he cares to admit, has tried to figure out if there is a way to keep Eddie out of harm's way. For Max, the solution is more clear, stopping Jason Carver from destroying her lifeline - a painful lesson he learned the one time he squeezed into the Creel House team - was obvious, but with Eddie the danger doesn't lie only outside, in the swarms of demobats, it's Eddie's painful disregard for his own life. He's had numerous discussions with Eddie, going in his responses from appreciative to annoyed to genuinely curious because with what Steve knows will happen, he wonders - why doesn't Eddie ever talk about himself apart from all the coward stuff? He wants to see others happy so badly he'll throw his life away without a single thought. Steve finds the familiarity painful. And so keeps asking, keeps prodding, collects information like pieces of a puzzle and he can't help himself, the picture that starts showing up is lovely, it is complex and Steve knows he simply has to bring this damaged boy home, home to his loud music, his loving uncle, his secret ambitions.

He heads to Eddie's trailer when others are still talking, he says he needs some fresh air. He pokes around, finds all the weaknesses, the vents, the fragile doors. Even though others stare at him as if he grew a second head, he gives them all the details, suggests how they should adjust the planned defenses. It's not enough, but Steve has all the power in the world now, he knows how to work the system. The second anything goes wrong, he grabs Robin's shoulder and mutters the magical words: "I'm stuck in a time loop". Eddie won't remember the pain tomorrow, Eddie won't remember the things he told him about his mother, about how he got held back in school because the principal caught him kissing his nephew and that sparked a long vendetta that Eddie couldn't win against. It doesn't matter if Eddie doesn't remember, Steve will spare him the pain, will spare Dustin from losing him all over again. Maybe Steve also selfishly wants to spare himself.

The repetition drives him crazy, but it makes him more bold, less hesitant. He spends more time with Eddie in each loop, talks to him about all the topics in the world, and his heart aches whenever it's go time because he already expects another reset. If he sees any mistakes repeated, knows they won't make it, he just says the magic words and there it is, a second chance, third, fourth, twentieth. He doesn't even count, time doesn't flow the way it should in purgatory anyway.

"I think I've been falling for you," he says once to Eddie, ready to follow the sentence with the spoken reset button, but it doesn't happen, not then. Because Eddie looks at him, his dark eyes and full of fondness, and maybe he's been feeling desperate too because he tosses away the spiked shield and reaches out, strokes Steve's cheek, and Steve's feeling brave and stupid. "I want to know more about you. You're so interesting Eddie, so vibrant, and I don't care if it sounds like I'm losing my mind, because nothing matters to me now than seeing you alive and happy. To have you walk the stage and give the principal the biggest fuck you of his life because you made it. To go on tour or just play at the Hideout, to keep meeting with all the tiny shitheads and create any and all adventures you want, I...I need to see that happen." He covers Eddie's hand with his own. "Please tell me you understand," he whispers and Eddie does, not in words, he kisses Steve right there and then.

When Steve has to say the words that evening, when one of the vines breaks Nancy's leg and they hear Vecna walking down the stairs, disturbed by the muffled scream of pain, he decides that he will do anything and everything to have those lips against his again.

"I'm stuck in a time loop, Nance."

"Hey Robin, I've lived through this day before."

"Eddie is about to die in an hour and the day will reset."

In the end, he figures out the magical combination, just like he figured out Eddie, through trial and error and dedication. He proposes changes to the plan, adding to the "bait" - getting an additional speaker and placing it in another trailer, switching between them to keep the bats occupied, to draw them from one place to another. He's seen it many times already, Eddie can never feel like his job is done. He will keep him occupied. He will keep him safe.

Erica has to move positions, she signals from somewhere else to avoid being spotted. Lucas barricades the doors and places Max's walkman to a safer position. Steve and Nancy make their way upstairs and get Vecna, Robin stays outside and cuts off his escape with more Molotov cocktails until the two make it back.

And just like that, a dam breaks in their minds. "What..." mutters Nancy and stares at Steve as if she saw him for the first time. "Have we been through this before? I feel like..."

"Like there's a shit ton of memories in your head that never happened?" adds Robin and expects Steve to explain, knows he had something to do with it, but he doesn't have the time or energy for that, he just stares in the direction of the trailer park and runs, because if this is it, if others remember, then-

He meets Eddie halfway there, in the forest, near the place when Eddie told him a lifetime ago he should get Nancy back. "You..." wheezes Eddie and Steve presses the knuckles of his hand to his mouth to stifle an ugly sob, "...knew all along, didn't you?"

"Yes," whispers Steve and can't help it, pulls Eddie into a crushing hug, his own injuries be damned. "For such a long time, Eddie. It never worked out, I don't know how many times, but it's okay now, you remember, I...I wanted to tell you so badly." He's full on crying now, sobbing into Eddie's neck and he vaguely registers Eddie's hand stroking his back.

He's about to apologize and pull back, he never wanted to dump all this on Eddie, but Eddie holds him just as tight and his long fingers find their way into Steve's hair, gently massaging his head. "You did so good, Steve," he says and his voice sounds broken, quiet. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that alone. I wish I remembered all of that sooner."

Steve gives a wet chuckle, still buried in Eddie's shoulder. "All of that, huh?" He wonders if Eddie remembers really everything, because then-

"Everything. But especially that one moment. I hope you haven't changed your mind about the falling thing," and Eddie is finally pulling away, just a little, to look into Steve's eyes. "Because if that was the only time I get to kiss you, this will be my villain origin backstory."

They are both laughing now, staring at each other through the tears and they can hear steps getting closer, Nancy and Robin finally catching up. "I'm pretty sure the info you have is outdated," says Steve and pulls Eddie closer, if that's even possible. "I'm way past falling now. I'm completely gone for you, man."

"Good, then we have something in common. I still don't get how you did it, how this whole loop thing came about, but I don't give a fuck. This is our year, baby," he grins at Steve.

And Eddie is right. It is.