#so someone hired a kid that was no older than probably 13 to kill a kid 2 years younger

[yuribrd]

@forfodlan​ || [ FEAR ] : sender, out of instinctive fear, grabs receiver's hand for comfort. / from bernie Hand holding.

          Bernadetta had been running about for what must have been hours, with Yuri trailing along after her.  Today, they’re finding interesting-looking plants and leaves.  It’s a silly little game, Yuri thinks.  It’s a stupid—  albeit necessary for his purpose here—  waste of time, is what he tries to convince himself.  Yet, without even realizing, he’s having fun.  Never before in his life would he have imagined he could feel so pleased doing something as pointless as finding a leave covered in weird spots and holes for his friend to see, as he is now.

          Sometimes, he becomes almost aware of it, and it confuses him, but right now?  Right now, he’s trying to figure out where Bernadetta went, so he can hear what she’s got to say about what he’s found.

          Only, when he looks up, he doesn’t see her.  No, he sees the Count, who’s not far off, apparently also looking for his daughter.  Thankfully, the gardener’s assistant looking at a plant in the garden isn’t nearly notable enough to warrant his full attention, and when he doesn’t spot Bernadetta, he moves on.

          When he’s sure the Count isn’t coming back, Yuri sets to looking for Bernadetta again, and after a good few minutes checking all of their favorite places, he eventually finds her at the base of an old tree that’s surrounded by lush bushes, which create a perfect little hiding spot just at the base of the trunk.

          ❝ There you are, ❞    he greets, his voice sing-song with eagerness as he pushes himself partway through the bushes to fetch her.    ❝ Let’s go, we still have time before the gardener will be needing me. ❞    With that, he turns to leave, expecting her to follow, until he feels her hand around his.    ❝ H-hey— ❞    Unexpected, the sudden halting of his exit nearly makes him fall back, but when he looks at her, rather than being upset, he is only concerned; she’s scared, and he can see it clear as day.

          It’s no wonder why either.  Yuri has, a few times now, seen or heard her struggling to avoid being taken.  Witnessing it, even thinking about it, makes him sad and angry all at once.  He thinks of his own mother, and can’t imagine how a parent can bring themselves to make their kid not want to be around them that desperately.

          ❝ Hey, ❞    he repeats, this time soft, quiet,    ❝ Look, you see?  Everything’s fine now, Bernadetta. ❞    Still, he doesn’t try to pull her from their hiding spot.  Instead, he sits beside her  ( on the bare dirt, just for her! ), one hand still in hers, the other reaching into a small pouch at his belt.  From within, he pulls what must have been one of the flight feathers of a small bird, and holds it out to her.    ❝ Here.  It’s pretty much the same color as your hair, so I thought you might like it. ❞    It’s a horrible gift, he thinks, but all he wants is to take her mind off of her father.

[nightingaelic]

Companions react to a Courier who is actually a child they just never noticed because they’re always wearing the Desert Ranger helmet (sorry I just can’t get this idea out of my head)

It had been a few days since the courier had taken up traveling with their companion, and though they still held their cards close to their chest, the formalities of a new partnership had softened somewhat. Sure, the courier was secretive, a little bit guarded, and surprisingly short, but they more than made up for their quirks when they charged into battle against whatever wasteland threats were feeling lucky that day. That's how their ever-present Desert Ranger combat helmet wound up with a smashed lens, after a particularly vicious attack from a group of feral ghouls.

"Goddammit," the courier swore passionately, before fumbling with the strap of their helmet. "These things don't grow on trees, the NCR doesn't hand these out to just anybody, I had to pull this from a corpse I found back in..."

They kept going as they pried the helmet off, revealing a face that held the unmistakable fullness of youth. As they picked shards of glass from the helmet's eye socket, their companion just stared at them.

Finally, the courier noticed the silence and looked up again. "What? Do I have glass in my face or something?"

Arcade Gannon: "How old are you?" Arcade demanded. "And don't give me some hedgy answer about not knowing your birth date or year, you have to have some idea."

"What does it matter?" the courier shot back, shaking their helmet out over the Mojave dirt. "I can shoot, I can run, I can track and fight and patch myself up afterwards-"

"That's not the point," Arcade said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't be older than 12, you should not be out here hunting down raiders and wandering around vaults-"

"Motherfucker, I am 13 years old, don't tell me I can't-"

"Oh my god, you're 13." Arcade stared up at the barren sky, questioning every decision he'd made in the past week. Several realizations struck him at once. "You're 13. Did Benny and the Khans know? Did House?"

The courier shrugged. "Hell if I know. If they did, they didn't care. Neither should you."

"The fact that I care is probably going to save your life," Arcade replied dryly. "Come on. We can wander around the desert taking NCR contracts after you've gone through puberty."

Craig Boone: "We shouldn't be out here," Boone said, suddenly angry.

The courier brushed some stray glass from their coat. "Well, we have to be. Someone's got to check out the REPCONN test site, and I need to find out where Benny went. If you want to go back, though, I guess we can-"

"You shouldn't be out here," Boone clarified. "Tracking down the person who sold my wife is one thing. Sending a kid into a war zone is another."

"War zone?" the courier scoffed. "Listen, I'm not a child soldier, I'm just trying to get by. Plus your buddy's extorting me, so it's not like you can argue that I'm doing this just for fun."

Rather than answer them, Boone swung his rifle around to his back and swept them up in a firefighter's carry. "Hey!" the courier cried, pounding on his shoulder and chest. "Put me down, you piece of- I can handle myself, you know I can- asshole, I've been a courier longer than you've been living in Novac!"

Boone ignored them and turned back toward the town they'd left. "We're going to have a chat with Manny about his practices when hiring outsiders to do security jobs."

Lily Bowen: "Oh, pumpkin," Lily said sadly. "You didn't tell me you weren't ready to be out wandering the wasteland, even if you brought Grandma along."

"Grandma, I was already wandering the wasteland when I came up to Jacobstown," the courier replied, picking some glass from beneath a fingernail. "And what makes you think I'm not ready? I just demolished those ferals."

"Leo killed the ferals," Lily argued.

"Okay, maybe you took out most of them," the courier admitted. "But I still managed to get three or four. You can't tell me I'm not ready to be out here when I've been out here for as long as I can remember."

"Where is your mama?" Lily demanded, clearly agitated. "She should be taking care of you. Or your father. I'm going to have a word with your parents, dearie."

"Good luck," the courier muttered. They finished clearing out the damaged glass and jammed the helmet back onto their head. The open socket left one of their eyes exposed, but it was better than nothing. "I've got business in Westside. Are you coming or not?"

Lily crossed her arms. "If your parents are busy, then you're staying with Grandma until they come back."

The courier sighed. "Fine."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Dios mío." Raul clapped a hand to his forehead in distress. "You're not old enough to be out here by yourself, boss."

"Well, I'm not," the courier pointed out, tossing a piece of glass over their shoulder. "By myself. Thanks to you."

"Well sure, now you're not, but what about before I came along?" Raul shook his head. "You need to be somewhere with more walls and fewer raiders."

The courier looked unconvinced. "Make me."

Raul wasn't in the mood to argue, and he strode forward, intending to seize them and drag them back to Goodsprings, or Primm, or any settlement where there was no longer a looming threat. "Ya estuvo suave, you're coming with me."

"Bájale dos rayitas," the courier advised him, backing away. "I've made it this far, haven't I?"

Raul reached out for them, and the courier ducked and took off. The string of Spanish curses that chased them was long and earnest, but it took some time before the pair ran out of energy and drew to a halt on the dry Mojave flats. "Are you done?" Raul asked, between deep breaths.

"Not... on your life," the courier answered, with a mischievous smile.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass raised her eyebrows and uncorked her canteen. "Nothing. Just figured you were a little older than 13, is all."

The courier smirked. "And what gave you that idea?"

"Mmm." Cass took a swig of water. "Dunno. Maybe it was the whole yarn about getting shot in the head and chasing the culprit all the way to New Vegas. Didn't seem like a kid's story, but now that I'm hearing it back, it does sound a little far-fetched."

"I didn't make it up!" the courier insisted angrily. "Look, right here."

They tilted their head to the side to show off a wicked bullet scar that had been stitched up over their ear. Cass moved in to examine it, and her expression became very grim. "So that part's true, at least. Damn shame."

"And I'm not letting that checkered fuck get away with it," the courier agreed. "You still want to help?"

Cass nodded. "More than I did before. Anyone who looks a preteen in the eyes and shoots them point blank is someone in need of a visit from the angel of death."

"Good." The courier put the helmet under their arm and jerked their head to the north. "Then let's go."

Veronica Santangelo: "Soooo..." Veronica smirked. "When were you planning on telling me you were just a baby?"

The courier frowned. "I am not a baby. There are plenty of couriers out there who are younger than me."

"Oh, sure, I can see the appeal." Veronica nodded. "Aside from the usual problems, it's easy work. Especially if you don't have any family... ties. Um."

She looked down, and the courier's eyebrows went up. "Question?"

"Nope." Veronica pursed her lips. "Maybe. Are you..?"

"On my own?" The courier smiled. "Well yeah, but don't feel bad about it. It's nothing I'm not used to. Plus people like you are usually jumping to come with me, so it's not as lonely as it used to be."

"Aww." Veronica met their eyes again with a smile. "Glad to hear it. And if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Your hole in the ground?"

"My hole in the ground."

The courier laughed and chucked a piece of glass away into the brush. "Thanks. Don't get too sappy on me, though."

ED-E: The courier's eyebot beeped and tilted its speaker up and down, as if indicating interest in the courier's entire self.

"Oh, yeah." The courier smiled. "People take me more seriously if they think I'm older. It's a pain in the ass to keep the helmet on all the time, but it works. Hell, I've been served in bars without any questions since I started wearing it."

ED-E trilled and gave a few more suggestive blips. The courier laughed. "Well no, most bartenders don't give a shit how old you are anyway, but you get fewer judgmental looks if they think you're an adult. Still, it'll be a good day when I can start passing for grown. This thing can get really hot."

Rex: Rex barked. He'd known the courier was young. Seeing their face was nothing more than confirmation for the cyberdog, and he lolled his tongue and panted.

"Yeah, I'm okay, buddy," the courier reassured him. "And I know you'd like me better if I didn't wear this, but it's for my own safety... in more ways than one."

They finished poking out the broken glass and put the helmet back on. Rex growled half-heartedly, but he quit when the courier reached down to scratch the ruff of fur around his neck. "Still me, boy. Let's hit the road."

[castelobyers]

I want to talk about Will Byers

I want to talk about Will and how they develop this character as the most miserable person in the whole series

You probably know what happened to him, we only seen him being really happy and without biggest problems or something tormenting him all the time is for the first 10 minutes of the show, he has problems, he don't have this normal functional family but he have a family who loves him at all, he got his best friends and he is doing the thing he love, the thing that he make super clear that was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life, play games at Mike's basement.

That's how he were presented, but we don't see him, not really, in the entire season, we just know him by the others, his friends, his family, it's sad because you're supposed to care about someone who's never really there, and still we care about him, we still want to him be ok because of Joyce, because of his friends and how they risks themselves to save him, you don't really cares about him you care about who is around him, and they care about him so you care because they care, and he came back, he is here now and now we see him again living his life, trying to back to the beggining when he was normal, happy and around who he loves, do the things he loves to do, but when he came at home we know by now that he will never be in peace again.

I was thinking how they have chose the actors for the roles, like, they have a thousand childrens who auditioned for Will, Mike, Dustin and Lucas, and they said they was very careful about who had to play who

I don't think they wanted to pick very similar kids, they could easily pick three ordinary white boys and one black boy but they really wanted to convey something to the characters and their appearance was important, they had to look like ordinary people but not just anyone. One of the more interesting choices is Gatten's and the fact that he had no teeth and how they leverage that in the series.

But here we are talking about Will and I don't think it was very easy for them to choose who was going to play Will, it was a difficult choice, they needed someone who wasn't going to appear for more than 15 minutes in the first season but who managed to be a character besides the main one in the second season, they needed someone who could do what needed to be done, which none of the other 3 needed to do, so his choice was super important.

They chose Noah, who had 10 years when he was hired for the role, Will had 12 in the series and is clear that Noah is more small than the others, he looks newest than Finn or Caleb, he and Millie was the only who had 10/11 when was filming when the others already have 12/13, and i don't think it was just only for talent, they need Will and El to look small, skinny and with baby face more than they need Mike, Lucas and Dustin to have, they want you to empathize to them since the beginning, Will because he's not there and El because she will be one of the reasons why everything get crazy and bad, not the main problem but she will kill some people and throw Lucas into a bus, you need to empathize with her.

This is Will in the first season

He got big eyes and small face, you supposed to believe he got 12 years, but he is small for a 12 years boy, and the famous bowl cut who made him look more like a little kid, more than the others

they made an important choice because they needed you to feel sorry for him, they needed someone you could look at and see just a cute and innocent boy who didn't have done anything wrong

He doesn't look like a naughty boy, he looks like a calm boy (congratulations to Noah because Noah looks like a naughty boy since he was little but Will doesn't, the theory that Will is an entity remains firm) differently from Finn who could be more alike to Noah but he got strongest traits and he looks more older, so you can see him being this boldest boy, naughty boy, so yes it's not just talent he need to appear innocent.

So we comes to season two, where we see him being tormenting by visions and being possessed, but we have something we don't have before, we know now how Will feel, what he thinks about himself and how the whole bullying we had seen in season one and season two affect him and how he sees himself

He sees himself like a freak, he believes in everything people say about him, he know he is different and know he will never be like everyone, like normal people, and he knows it since season 1.

Mike is an another part of the story, Mike cares about him in a different way than the others (I'm not talking about romance), he's always there when he needs, he ask if he's ok all the time, he pay attention to him without make him feel like he can't take things on his own (his words), and understand him like anyone else does, he feel comfortable with Mike.

We see the other characters having this dynamics with a lot of characters, for example

Dustin got dynamic with: Mike, Steve, Erica, Lucas, Eddie

Lucas got dynamic with: Max, Mike, Dustin, Jason

Mike with: El, Dustin, Lucas, Max and there it goes

For Will the dynamics stays just with Mike, Joyce and Jonathan, we got something with El in the beginning of season 4 and a little something with Lucas in season 3 but it's not that time spend to connect him to this characters, so the only person who he got bound in the whole series is Mike, and we know it, they make it clear.

But in season 3 he's not dealing with anything supernatural, he's dealing with his childhood and have to accept he's not kid anymore, he try to keep it but he can't do it alone, all of his friends have girlfrrends now, they have other things to deal with and he don't, he's dealing with himself and the fact that he's never gonna fall in love (like his friends, with a girl).

In the famous rain fight he is confronted with his fears by his comfort person, Mike throw in his face everything what he is fighting on in two phrases "We're not kids anymore" and "it's not my fault you don't like girls ", it coming from Mike hurt him, he confirmed everything he thinks about himself, he's different, he's a freak and his problems is stupid, he need to move on, so he destroys Castle Byers and try to move on.

I think the problems really start in season 4, it was the perfect time for him having his coming of age, to deal with his struggles and start to accept himself in season 5, it could be beautiful, honest and great, he don't need to have a love interest in the end, he could overcome his love for Mike in season 4, ripping of the band-aid and move on to finally being free and loved by everyone he loves, but this is not what happened.

His behavior in season 4 it's not by someone who's trying to have something with Mike, he's not acting weird, he's not flirting with Mike, he is only someone who miss his best friend, and yes he is in love with him but he doesn't do anything weird or try something with Mike, he knows his spot, and he just try to at least keep it.

I saw some people talking about Mike's behavior as someone who's uncomfortable, treat like Will are being being clingy with him, but he's not, the only thing he try with Mike is hug him, and that's not strange, they hugged before, and Mike don 't have problem in hug people, he hug Dustin in the episode before this one, so Will is not who is acting weird, Mike was.

They used Will's sexuality to promoting the show a lot, promised they will talk about his sexuality and make clear for the audience, but that's what they done

He was not allowed to talk about his feeling on his own, he use his drawing and his feelings to help his friends to resolves their relationship issues while he's crying quietly and with nobody notice (we know Jonathan notice but Will don't know it at that time), the things he was struggling with he put outside, ripped off the band-aid, it is good right? he can move on now yes? no, he did something that he hate, he lie to Mike and give something he has worked on hard for a long time to help the Mike and El relationship, to make Mike believe his feeling was El's feelings, and what we got after this

Will encouraging Mike to talk about his feelings for El

He proves his selfless in the last scene, why make one of the most expected Scenes from Mike and Eleven shippers linked to Will, he already ripped off the band aid, he had already said what he wanted to say using El as a totem, he didn't need to be the one to encourage Mike to say he loves his girlfriend, if Mike already wanted to do that he should have had this idea on his own, Will had already helped him regain his self-esteem, why do it twice? using Will's feelings like that twice, it's just cruel, it's not realistic, it's sad.

He is the only character who never have a single break, he are not allowed to have his own thing, everything about him is sad, he don't had nothing really good happening in his life, and for what? self acceptance? only?

And I'm not saying that I wanted him to stay with Mike, when season 4 was released i was praying for him not be in love with Mike because it don't add anything new to his character, everything what coming from it is just more pain, but they did it.

How I was saying this season was the perfect season to make his coming of age, he could have do all things he done but in the end make clear that he moved on, that now his only problems was self acceptance, and in season 5 make he accepts himself and tell to the people he loves what he is and being accepted, but they end season 4 and I'm feel like they just use this kid who they make sure you will feel sorry and beat him up for the whole series, a queer kid in the 80s who never done anything wrong is developing just for self acceptance, a show where everybody have their own groups and someone to feel comfortable with he only have rejection.

I feel like if they don't make him in love with Mike he could be much better representation, or he could fall in love with Mike but they could make it just for one season or two, not all along just to make him be rejected in the end, they could resolved this now in vol. 2, but they decide to concentrate Will Byers as the most miserable person in Stranger Things.

[giorno-plays-piano]

hey!! i love your writing sm💕 idk if you’re still taking requests or if you’re comfortable w a like platonic or father figure yandere. But how about yan! Steve Rogers where he kidnaps a teenage girl to be his daughter then shields her from the world to “protect” her kinda like rapunzel. if you don’t want to that’s no problem at all tho💕

Hi, sweetie! This is a very peculiar request, and I really, really like it! I guess I’ve made Steve a little softer than I expected, but here he is. Hope you’re going to enjoy this!

The one he cares about

Pairing: adoptive dad!Steve & Reader, Peter Parker x Reader (if you squint)

Warnings: yandere, obsession (non-romantic!), stalking, kidnapping, death of minor characters (but nothing too scary).

Words: 1870.

P.S. Just to clarify this is NOT an incest story, Steve does not harbor any romantic feelings for the reader, he loves her like a parent does.

__________________

Pacing up and down nervously like a caged tiger, Steve threw a glance at the clock on the kitchen wall, ready to take out his cellphone and give you a call. It was just 10 pm, but he felt something wasn't going quite right. Was everything ok at that party? Were you enjoying yourself? Did you finally confess to that silly guy Steve didn't like at all? What if he had already got you, Steve's precious little daughter, into bed?

Breathing in deeply, the man tried calming himself down. You were an adult. At one point you would start dating people, and it was perfectly alright, Sam reminded him the other day. You weren't some princess locked in a tower with Steve guarding you like an angry dragon. You had the right to love and be loved, create your own family, for God's sake. When he thought of you leaving him Steve was ready to break that kitchen wall.

No, no, no, it was alright. You loved him with all your heart, and no stupid guy could take it away from Steve. He was your father. Adoptive father, of course, but he did everything he could to make you trust and love him as much as you true family. You were calling him dad, after all. And even if you eventually married someone, Steve would always stay close to help and support you - and your kids, if you ever decide to have any. At the thought of him kissing the cheeks of his cute little grandchildren Steve had finally relaxed.

Oh, was it the sound of the front door opening? As much as he wanted to rush to meet you, the man quickly put on his apron he ironed this morning and turned to the heated stove to put a meat pie in it. Alright, alright, you were already home, it was perfect.

But why so early? Steve was really generous this time and gave you till 1 am - of course, if you took a taxi, not go walking the streets in the night. Did something go wrong? Did the guy reject you? Did he take advantage of you? Did he... do something he shouldn't have?

Steve felt his blood boiling. In a second he was ready to storm out of the kitchen to beat the shit out of that bastard who was stupid enough to hurt his child.

"Hi dad! I'm home!"

As you walked in, carrying your beaded clutch in your arms and yawning tiredly, Steve put a smile on his face momentarily, assessing whether you were hurt within a couple of seconds. No, apparently, you were alright: you moved just like before; your hair wasn't ruffled, and your makeup wasn't smeared eather. He had overreacted again.

"Welcome back, sweet pea." Steve moved closer to you, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead as you giggled softly, throwing your arms around his broad back. "How did it go?"

As your face turned gloomy for a fleeting second, he knew his sixth sense wasn't lying to him: something didn't go well.

"Nah." You brushed it off as you sat on the chair, carelessly leaving your clutch on the table and stretching your legs with a loud sigh.

"What is it, sweetie?"

Furrowing his brows, Steve sat across from you, his hands folded as he stared at you with worry. Shit, did this guy try doing something funny? Did he offend you? Oh, Steve was going to have a nice talk with him, a moron who thought he could do this to his little girl and it would never come back at him. Should he call Natasha? Maybe Bucky? He knew they were still in town. No, no, he would take this matter in his own hands and go have a nice talk with that stupid ungrateful ba-

"It's alright, I swear." You muttered and forced a smile, drawing his attention back to you. "He just... well, just didn't return my feelings."

"Did he reject you?"

For a second Steve felt both relieved and ready to go murder that kid in a cold blood. Rejected you? The prettiest and smartest girl in the town with a heart of gold? Who did that little shit think he was, rejecting Steve's precious daughter?

But it was better than him forcing you to do something you didn't want. At least that asshole didn't do anything inappropriate to you, probably too scared to face your angry dad who could crack his skull with one hand.

"Not like reject in the full sense of the word, but... um, I feel like he was a little scared of me." Your smile turned bitter, and you leaned onto Steve, pressing your forehead into his chest as you exhaled loudly.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time it happened. Everybody around knew you were the daughter of retired Captain America, and people were treating you with such caution as if you were some time bomb, clearly unwilling to make the world's first Avenger angry. Partly, it was a good thing since no one tried messing with you. However, you were also left pretty much alone, ignored by the majority for the sake of their own well-being. Although you had found several friends, dating someone was a completely different thing: guys were running away from before you even spoke to them.

"I'm so sorry." The man said quietly, rubbing your back and gently caressing your head with his other hand. "This is my fault."

You sighed, lifting your head and looking at Steve so tenderly he suddenly felt like he was the happiest man in the world. What, weren't you upset?

"Come on, dad." His heart sped up when you called him that, and he was ready to lift you up in the air, kissing his little girl's nose. "I thought he's different, but he's just a chicken like all other guys. I'll get over him soon."

"Hard to live up to our standards, I guess." Steve smiled and pinched your nose a little, making you laugh again. "But you need to know I am really sorry, sweat pea. I swear I wouldn't stand in your way if you decided he was the right guy for you."

Actually, Steve pretty much would, but you wouldn't know about it. Happiness of his only child was the only thing that mattered to him now: what was the point of being a parent if you couldn't make your kid happy?

"It's okay, really, dad. I wouldn't change the things as they are now. When I think what could happen if you didn't see me on the street that night... uh-huh." You didn't finish the sentence, not that you needed to.

If Steve didn't find you that night desperately searching for food on the streets of New York, you'd probably be dead now.

You were born to a good family, and you spent the first 11 years of your life in a nice place, having loving parents, the roof above your head and food on the table. You were just one more happy kid among thousands of others, neither better nor worse than all of them. It all changed when your parents were killed by two robbers who had broken into your house, and soon you ended up in an orphanage - you still had nightmares about this place. You spent a year there before you escaped, choosing the streets over an orphanage. Silly you, thinking it would be better.

When Steve found you, you were 13. Dirty, always hungry, acting like a little wild animal, you were no more pitiful than any other homeless child, ignored by the majority of people, but Steve saw you. He took you with him - forcefully, of course, because you fought him like a little angry cat, frightened to the core he was going to take advantage of you like all those people pretending to help you. But he didn’t. He was the one who had truly cared.

It took him months to get you accustomed to living in a house again with someone close to you. Steve spent even more time trying to make you trust him, make you believe he was your friend, somebody you could rely on, trust, see as a parental figure. You couldn’t even name all those people he hired to help you: countless psychologists and psychiatrists; doctors and nurses of all kinds; visiting teachers and tutors. Despite liking to live alone, Steve brought so many strangers to his house it felt like living in a royal palace with tons of court attendants. All of this was for you, the only person he cared about, his little child.

When you were 15, you started calling him dad, and that was the day neither Steve nor you would ever forget: he scooped you up and kept swinging you around till your head was spinning while he laughed and shouted how much he loved you, the best daughter he could ever had. 

You never knew the extent to which Steve cared about you, following you secretly when you finally agreed to leave the house - he needed to know you were safe and sound. Of course, he was always there when he supposed someone wasn’t treating you right, and he did everything he could to keep his only child happy. Unfortunately, you were lonely until Steve found a couple of good friends for you, but it was alright. You were perfectly okay now.

“I love you too, sweet pea.” He smiled, caressing your head gently. “But you know what? Don’t worry about that guy. I actually have someone who I want you to meet, and he’s a really sweet kid.”

“Whoa, what? What kid?”

“Well, you know. Kid from work.”

“Dad, what work? What kid?” You rolled your eyes at him, giggling. “How old is he, at least?”

“A little older than you, but he’s alright. He’s been wanting to meet you for some time.” But before Steve wasn’t sure kid was the right guy for you, considering that he was still very much an Avenger and was involved in all kinds of dangerous situations. 

“Dad, what kid? Are you talking about your superhero colleagues or something?” 

“... yeah? I promise, you’ll like him. Peter’s a good kid.”

“Peter? Peter goddamn Parker?!” You exclaimed loudly, realizing he was talking about Spider-Man. “Are you joking?!”

“What did I tell you about swearing, sweetheart?” Furrowing his brows, Steve shook his head in disapproval, but laughed in the very next second, watching your guilty expression. “Alright, alright. I’m not joking. If you’d like to meet him, I’ll ask him to come tomorrow for dinner, ok?”

“Yes, please!”

As he took the pie out of the oven with you waiting at the dinner table, Steve thought about giving the kid a big lecture about what he was and wasn’t supposed to do to you, but he was more or less sure Peter knew what was right and wrong. Steve could spot that familiar glint in kid’s eyes when he was looking at your photo that Steve had been showing him proudly. 

It would turn out alright. Your father was ready to do anything it takes to make you happy.

___________________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @iheartsebastianstan @lovelydarkdaydream @sarge-barnes-sir

[longitudinalwaveme]

Random Flash Rogue Headcanons

Ideas that pop up a lot in my fanfics and fanart: 

-Mick Rory was a farm kid. 

-Roscoe Neyle Dillon is the son of Reginald Norton Dillon, a well-to-do banker, and Rosa Nicole Dillon, his rather pliant, weak-willed wife. Reginald held his son to punishingly high standards and was quick to criticize, berate, and threaten his son when he failed to live up to them. Rosa never intervened. 

-Roscoe grew up in North Ridge, a suburb of Central City. He is on the autism spectrum, but grew up before it was widely recognized. He was constantly bullied by his peers and was disliked by most of his teachers because of his odd behavior. He had a number of special interests but the most prominent was, of course, tops. 

-Roscoe is one of only three Rogues to attend high school and one of only two to have attended college. Lisa and Hartley also both graduated from high school, and Hartley also went to college. Roscoe studied (possibly has a degree in) physics. 

-Roscoe’s parents currently live in Bridgeville. 

-Mark (Marco) Mardon is the son of Patricia (Paloma) and Matthew (Matias) Mardon, and the younger brother of Clyde (Claudio) Mardon. His parents immigrated from Guatemala when he was a month and a half old and Clyde was about a year old. Both parents were college-educated, which made the process simpler than it otherwise would have been, and the family initially settled in Dunhurst, a suburb of Central City. However, they were never accepted there, and they eventually left the town after persistent harassment from the Clan of the Fiery Cross. 

-They resettled in Bridgeville, and Matias and Paloma went to great pains to hide the fact that they were immigrants, Americanizing their names and refusing to let their sons speak Spanish outside of the home. Patricia became the head of the local library, and Matthew took a job as a teacher of geography at the local high school. The family eventually settled fairly comfortably in the middle class. 

-Clyde was only 11 months older than Mark, so they were always in the same year at school. He was handsome, intelligent, popular, and athletic. Mark, by contrast, was painfully average. He couldn’t live up to the standard set up by his parents’ golden child, and eventually, he stopped trying, knowing that he would never measure up. He and Clyde were very close, but their relationship was often strained by the fact that Mark was so often compared unfavorably to Clyde.

-Mark dropped out of high school at 16 and ran away, eventually drifting into petty theft due to his lack of direction. Clyde, meanwhile, graduated high school early and earned a degree in meteorology. He started work on the Weather Wand when he was still in college, but didn’t finish it until he was 23. He died not long after of congenital heart failure, and then his shiftless younger brother strolled in and took the wand for himself. 

-Samuel Joseph Scudder was born to Percival and Martha Scudder. Unfortunately, Percival contracted cancer a few months before Sam was born and died when his son was only 7 months old, leaving his wife with dozens of medical bills. The Scudders had never been particularly well-off, so Martha was forced to move into an apartment complex on Baker Street, colloquially known as Skid Row, where she would raise her young son. 

-Martha was a talented seamstress, so much so that she was eventually hired by the Rathaways. While this provided steady work, the Rathaways were extremely demanding employers, and so Martha wasn’t able to be at home with her son as much as she would’ve liked.

-Young Sam loved cowboy movies and superhero comics. He was especially fond of the JSA and gathered a collection of JSA comics that he still owns (currently, he hides them in the Mirror Realm so the other Rogues won’t find out about them). He was also a boy scout and eventually became an Eagle Scout. He was highly intelligent and generally did well in school, and he was close friends with Jennifer Conners, who lived in the same apartment complex he did. When they entered high school, the two started dating, and even fantasized about getting married. 

-Unfortunately, life on Baker Street was less than ideal. Sam was embarrassed by the shabby state of his clothes and possessions, had to watch as his mother tried to figure out how to pay their bills, and was surrounded by violence. Fights were common in the apartment complex where Sam lived, and, when he was 15 years old, he and Jennifer bore witness to Jennifer’s father being brutally shot as they came home from school. Both were traumatized. Jennifer began a years-long struggle with PTSD, and Sam’s anxiety levels went through the roof. Not wanting to burden his mother and knowing that they didn’t have enough money for therapy, Sam turned to cigarettes, and then alcohol, in the hopes of relieving his anxiety. As he spiraled into addiction, he got mixed up with the school’s party crowd, and dropped out at 17. He drifted into a life of crime and was sent to prison at age 19 for robbing a convenience store. In this prison, he would mostly break his alcohol addiction, but his smoking habit only got worse. More importantly, however, while serving his sentence for this crime, he would discover the Mirror Realm. 

-Sam loves his mother, but he avoids her because he knows his actions disappoint and worry her. His ex-girlfriend, Jennifer Conners, though continually struggling with PTSD, managed to graduate from both high school and college, and currently works as a school counselor. Sam avoids her, too, but still holds a bit of a candle for her. 

-Mrs. McCulloch’s first name is Eva. She is devoutly Catholic, and, as a result, Evan is also devoutly Catholic (albeit a very confused Catholic). He goes to Mass at least once a week, believes priests are basically infallible, and will threaten to kill you if you so much as look at a nun funny. He goes to Confession at least once a month and would probably go more often if each session didn’t last three hours. 

-Giovanni Giuseppi (James Jesse) is the son of Helen and Alessandro Giuseppi, both of whom are the children of Italian immigrants. He has a very, very, very large extended family, most of whom are in the circus with his parents. Many of them speak Italian; while James isn’t fluent in the language, he can understand it quite well and speak it well enough to get by. The whole family is very emotionally demonstrative and physically affectionate, which is part of why James has no concept of personal space. His relatives include his Zia Catalina (who runs an Italian restaurant), his Nonna Gianna, his Nonno Antonio, his Nonno Aberto, his Nonna Lucrezia, his Zio Luca, his Aunt Stella, his Zio Angelo, his Zia Loretta, his Zia Lucia, his Zio Armani, his Aunt Karen, his Zia Bianca, his Zio Rocco, his Zio Romeo, his Aunt Olivia, his Zia Etta, his Zio Dante, his Uncle Fred, his Aunt Susan, his Uncle Harold, his Aunt Lydia, his cousins Bobby and Susie and Maria and Carly and Matthew and Frank and Julia and Freddie and Joseph and Lucy, and his cousins’ kids, Angela and Charlie and Stefano and Gian and Marsha and Rose and Kaitlyn and Steve. He’s not entirely sure how he’s related to most of them. James’ family is all technically Catholic, mainly because they’re all Italian, but only about half of them are practicing Catholics. 

-James invented the airwalker shoes when he was 13 years old. 

-There was a very large age gap between Leonard and Lisa’s parents when they got married. This is because Larry/Lewis Snart was a 40-year-old creeper who got a 15-year-old girl pregnant. Shirley married him because she had nowhere else to go; her parents kicked her out when she got pregnant. She dropped out of high school soon after, and, after several years of abuse, she ran away, leaving Len and Lisa alone with Larry/Lewis.

-Len is about 5 years older than Lisa; he dropped out of high school at 14 so that he could support her and left home at 18. He continued to send money to her after he left, even after she became a professional figure skater. 

-Lisa’s teenaged years were one long nightmare. She was a beautiful young woman, but because of her background, her mother’s reputation as a loose woman, and her father constantly calling her nasty names, she was demonized by the “nice, proper” people of her neighborhood as a temptress, someone who would lead their sons astray. (This in spite of the fact that they were often the ones making advances on her.) Her father also became increasingly abusive towards her, as Leonard had left the home and, as she got older, Lisa started to remind him of his wife. In response, she threw herself into her figure skating and tried to shut the rest of the world out. By the time she was 16, she was already one of the most talented skaters in the Midwest, and when she was 17, she left her father’s house and moved in with another girl on her skating team for the rest of high school. She graduated with a B+ average and was promptly snapped up by a professional figure skating team. Lisa had managed to escape-at least physically. Her teenaged years left her convinced that her beauty was something dangerous; something evil, and it took Roscoe over a year to break down her defenses when they met. However, once he did, she fell deeply in love. Finally, she had found someone who would never abandon her. 

-Roscoe, for his part, was equally in love. After years of being seen as a socially awkward weirdo, he had found someone who thought he was sophisticated and intelligent; someone who didn’t laugh at his tops and who didn’t seem bothered by his quirks. It was intoxicating. 

-Geraldine is 20 years younger than Hartley; she was born to replace him as the heir to the Rathaway fortune. 

-Hartley’s parents were in their thirties when he was born. Both of them came from long-established “old money” families; their marriage was more the result of a business deal between Hartley’s grandparents than any sort of romantic relationship. Prior to her marriage, Rachel was a Kane. Her uncle was the father of Jacob Kane (father to Kathy Kane) and Martha Wayne (nee Kane), making her the first cousin of Bruce Wayne’s mother. Red hair runs in the Kane family, and she passed it on to both of her children. 

-Similarly, Hartley’s paternal grandmother was originally a Queen before marrying into the Rathaway family. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg: Hartley’s at least a distant relative of most of the wealthiest people in the DCU. 

-Geraldine is on the autism spectrum; she’s able to mask her symptoms well enough that her parents haven’t decided to pull the “let’s fix her with expensive surgeries” trick that they used when Hartley was born deaf. 

-Hartley’s parents engaged him to a girl named Kathryn Kendell, the heir to a fast food corporation, when he was 18; nothing came of it because he got himself disowned before the marriage could actually happen. 

-Hartley’s parents are intensely controlling and basically make all the decisions in their children’s lives without actually asking them for their opinions. 

-Len Snart is prone to ulcers.

-Albert and Rita Desmond have an infant son named Alan. He likes to chew on his father’s Philosopher’s Stone. Alvin adores his “astral nephew” and kept showing up at Albert’s house uninvited to see him. Eventually Albert got tired of Alvin breaking in and put him on their baby-sitting list. Rita is less than thrilled by this but is at least pleased that Alan keeps Alvin from trying to ruin Albert’s life. 

-George Harkness has two half-brothers: an older brother named Tom Harkness, the son of Agnes and Ian Harkness, and a much younger brother named Walter Wiggins, the 12-year-old son of W.W. Wiggins and his wife. (All these characters are canonical, but it’s never actually been officially stated that this is the case.) 

-Jai West idolizes Jay Garrick and plans to take up his costume someday. 

-Josh Jackam-Mardon’s weather-controlling abilities are directly tied to his mood. When he’s happy, it’s sunny and he makes rainbows. If he’s cold, the temperature will increase. If he’s hot, the temperature will drop and it might even start snowing. If he’s sad, it rains. If he throws a temper tantrum, it creates a thunderstorm-and if he’s really upset, a tornado will form. 

-When Barry Allen was 13, he paid the admission fee that was required in order to meet the members of the JSA for both himself and a 9-year-old Sam Scudder. It’s one of both men’s fondest memories, and neither realizes that the other was the boy who met the JSA with him on that day. 

-Axel Walker is the son of Alan Walker and Alice Strickland. His father is a used car salesman who left his wife for Axel’s stepmother, Barbie, when Axel was 7 years old. Axel does not like Barbie and isn’t particularly happy with his father, either. Axel’s mother is Jewish. As such, so is Axel (although Axel doesn’t practice his faith much, if at all.) He can read a bit of Hebrew and speak a bit of Yiddish. 

-Eobard Thawne is convinced that he is an expert in 21st-century technology. The result: “This is a historical device called a toaster. It served as a primitive form of climate control!” 

-Abra Kadabra, by contrast, spends most of his time in the 21st century baffled by the devices used by these primitive savages. What sort of communication device doesn’t send a perfect three-dimensional copy of your body to the person you’re talking to? What kind of food-preparation device takes twenty minutes to cook a meal? Why don’t their hygiene devices instantly clean their bodies of dirt and odors instead of requiring water that’s never a comfortable temperature? HOW DO YOU OPERATE THIS ‘REMOTE CONTROL’? This makes him a very annoying house guest. 

-Mick Rory is an accomplished cook, home repairman, and knitter. 

-Albert Desmond is often so lost in thought that he puts his keys in the refrigerator. 

-All of the Rogues are more scared of Iris Allen than they are of Barry. And with good reason. 

-Owen Mercer is good friends with Joan Garrick. 

-Sam is developing the early stages of emphysema but refuses to admit it because it would mean having to try to kick his smoking habit. 

-Mick Rory’s body is covered by third-degree burns, and his voice is unnaturally raspy because of all the smoke inhalation he’s undergone over the years. 

-Mark Mardon is a horrible klutz. If he can trip over something, he will end up doing it. This is part of why he likes being able to fly so much. 

-Len Snart and Sam Scudder are huge fans of Central and Keystone City’s sports teams. Linda Park-West is among the few who can rival their civic pride in this regard. Evan and Digger are both big fans of rugby and cricket. Hartley is solely a baseball fan; the other Rogues don’t much care about sports unless betting is involved. 

-Mark Mardon watches the weather channel solely so he can make sure that the reporter’s predictions are wrong. 

-Digger loves the great outdoors and can hike for hours.

-Mark Mardon is terrible at cards but gambles constantly anyway. He’s lost more money than he’s ever stolen trying to win bets. James, by contrast, is a master cardsharp. 

-Sam and Roscoe spend more money on clothes (and more time in the shower) than the rest of the male Rogues combined.  

-Dexter Miles knows the birthdays of everyone in the Twin Cities. No one knows how he knows this, he just does. When it’s a Rogue’s birthday, the museum opens a exhibit exclusively about them for a few days. The Rogues don’t know this is intentional and it’s really starting to freak them out. 

-When the Rogues found out that the Flash Museum hires people to dress up as them and teach young visitors about science, Sam Scudder waited for a day when the museum’s ‘Mirror Master’ called in sick and showed up in his place. All the visitors to the museum that day were agreed that he was the best “Mirror Master” the museum had ever had. 

-James once went to the Flash Museum in full costume and stood right by one of the statues of him. He even posed in exactly the same way. He was immediately informed by a patron that he was much too blonde to be the real Trickster. James found the whole experience very amusing.

-Roscoe insists that all the statues of him at the Flash Museum make him look fat. Lisa thinks that’s ridiculous and says that they’re almost as handsome as the genuine article. Len agrees that the statues make Roscoe look fat and thinks it’s hilarious. 

-All three of the Flashes have, of course, been to the Flash Museum while in costume. Like James, they are often told that they don’t look anything like the real Flashes. Barry and Jay are baffled by this; Wally thinks it’s funny. 

-Mick Rory donated his chili recipe to the Flash Museum’s diner. It’s one of the more popular dishes amongst people who love spicy food. 

-Wally is trying to convince his wife to get the kids a pet cheetah. “Come on, honey! It’ll be good for the twins to have a pet who can keep up with them!” 

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Untamed TAZ Balance AU? Don't have to write anything, just consider that (is Wen Ning Lucretia in this or is he too nice for that)

NHS IS LUCRETIA, NHS IS ABSOLUTELY LUCRETIA, I HAVE THOUGHTS, my girlfriend yelled at me for these thoughts.  Hell this got long, I’ve literally been saving it in my drafts until Tumblr fixed the Read More issue.

WWX is Taako, JC is Magnus, WQ is Merle, JYL is in the umbrella (became a lich to keep her brother from doing it), WN is the Red Robe (became a lich because he thought it seemed reasonable), NHS is Lucretia, XXC is Davenport, LWJ and LXC are mutually Kravitz (LXC sets his bro up with the death criminal wizard), Wen Zhuliu is John Vore, LSZ is Angus but also a baby Reaper

ONE

So Wei Wuxian isn’t really a wizard, is the thing.  Like, he does the wizard magic, and apparently he has strong Wizard Vibes because wherever he travels, people ask him if he can solve their magical bullshit problems, but he’s, like, barely a wizard.  He’s an inventor, technically, except that a few years back some stuff went explosively awry while he worked with this traveling show and–yeah.  So he’s working as a wizard because, hey, he can cast Magic Missile and he needs to eat and he’s an Evocation specialist, anyway, so it’s not like he’s out here making food from rocks.  He’s hired on with a couple other random jackasses, a fighter who took a dislike to Wei Wuxian right off the bat and a cleric with a bad temper and an itchy Sacred Flame finger, and they’re doing a job for some dwarf, or whatever.  The dwarf has a guy hired on as muscle, but he doesn’t look like much, all wide eyes and baby face.  He calls himself Qionglin, no last name, and stares at Wen Qing like he’s never seen a cleric before, and Jiang Cheng spends the entire trip to Phandolin messing with his whip, which is the stupidest weapon Wei Wuxian has ever seen.

Well, then everything immediately goes horribly wrong, though, and turns out that Jiang Cheng is pretty okay with that whip.  Qionglin (Wei Wuxian spoke to the man all of one time, but he was sweet, if a little awkward) gets himself kidnapped by a bunch of goblins, and their employer is gods-know-where with whatever a Black Spider is, and suddenly this very boring escort mission is a very not boring rescue mission.

There’s a skeleton in the cave.  Wei Wuxian takes an umbrella from it, and it crumbles into dust beneath its red robe.  There’s a very annoyed man with a sword who calls himself Song Lan and speaks in static, and he’s somehow not the weirdest part of this whole day.

Phandolin doesn’t survive its brush with the Zidian Gauntlet, and neither does Qionglin.  Wen Qing screams when he dies, and Wei Wuxian grabs her under the arms with Jiang Cheng and books it for the empty well in Song Lan’s wake, and they just hide.  

And then they go to the goddamn moon, apparently.

TWO

The goddamn moon is run by an older man with hair still a glossy black, toying with a beautifully painted white fan in his hand.  He calls himself the Director and–after some testing–hires them more or less on the spot.  Something flickers over his face when Wen Qing, bemused by her own upset, makes an offhand mention of a man named Qionglin who died when the Gauntlet brought down so much lightning that it turned Phandolin into black glass.  But it’s not Wei Wuxian’s problem, so he doesn’t worry himself over it too much.  He takes the payment offered to him by the Director’s aide, a blindfolded, stunningly handsome man in Bureau blue and white who rests his hand on his own chest and says “Xiao Xingchen” and not another word.

The Bureau is–weird.  They’ve got a giant jellyfish and a store run by–something Wei Wuxian Does Not Trust and a dorm.  Wei Wuxian laughs and kicks Jiang Cheng cheerfully in the ankle and says “Just like college, huh?” and Jiang Cheng gives him a dark look and snaps “I never went to college.”

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian says, blinking.  “Me neither.”

Whatever.  They go on a train adventure and there’s a kid, a kid who blinks and stares at Wei Wuxian like he’s seen a goddamn ghost and immediately walks up to introduce himself as Lan Sizhui, boy detective.

Wei Wuxian fucking loves this kid.  He’s not sure why this wide-eyed fifteen-year-old latched onto him so hard, but he’s smart, funny, loyal, and extremely easy to pick on.  13/10 child rating, in Wei Wuxian’s book.

(Sizhui, for his part, more or less kicks down the door to his father’s offices in the Astral Plane the second the Reclaimers are gone and shouts “I HAVE A LEAD ON WHAT HAPPENED TO THE WORLD.”)

(His father, Lan Wangji, the Grim Reaper, is very interested to hear all about it–especially when his son casually name-drops three of the biggest bounties that the Raven King, his adoptive elder brother, has ever sent him after, with the exception of that absolutely insufferably sweet-tempered lich Wen Ning.)

THREE

So…the Crystal Kingdom.

Is it Wei Wuxian’s finest hour, shouting obscure tentacle-related threats at the second crystal construct they’ve seen in the past twenty minutes?  No, probably not.  But it’s been a stressful day, they’re already down one Regulator and Song Lan is fuck-knows-where with Mianmian and, again, this is the second menacing crystal construct they’ve seen in twenty minutes.  Or maybe it’s the same one? 

Whatever, doesn’t matter.  They’re here to hunt down Meng Yao, a scientist who’s been dicking around with some seriously ill-advised necromancy and also the Philosopher’s Stone, and a crystal construct or two isn’t going to stop them.

Wei Wuxian actually physically cannot help himself, though, when the Reapers appear in the mirror, a matched set of beautiful men, and he grins broadly at the one glaring at him most viciously.  They get let go on a technicality, along with a conduit still containing Meng Shi’s memory of a vision beyond the cosmos, and Meng Yao leaves with his life and not much more.

Later, Lan Wangji is absolutely betrayed by the realization that his brother willfully set him up to be the primary go-between for the completely breathtaking deeply irritating wizard-by-way-of-death-criminal.  And that’s before the whole lich revelation.  (He does get a kiss, though, after he watches his brother pulled under by the Hunger.  That’s nice.  He hopes Wei Wuxian will mitigate the death crimes now that they’re dating.)

FOUR

The seven Relics are as follows:

The Zidian Gauntlet, which can generate a lightning blast so powerful that it can obliterate an entire city.  (Jiang Cheng–he watched the others try to lay in protections, try to make their Relics harmless, and he knew it wouldn’t work.  All the Gauntlet does is damage.  It can melt a city down to black glass, but it can’t be twisted, it can’t be made into any more of a nightmare than it already is.  He’s a fighter.  He knows all about damage, knew all about what he was making.  That doesn’t mean it didn’t kill him by inches to watch it leave a path of destruction–so much that his beloved jiejie tried to seal it away.)

The Oculus, which can make any construct real.  (Xiao Xingchen–Nie Huaisang didn’t take everything.  He doesn’t remember the mission, or his own past.  Something strange got confused in the process, and he lost most of his speech.  But he remembers how to fight, handles his sword as cleanly and effectively as ever, and he remembers that he doesn’t think much of Nie Huaisang’s combat skills.  Or maybe it’s just really obvious that Nie Huaisang isn’t much of a fighter.  Regardless, Xiao Xingchen insisted on accompanying him, before–before.  Then they went into the Felicity Wilds, and…Xue Yang is honestly delighted.  He’s never managed to ruin someone so badly on the way into Wonderland before.  It’s just a shame that Nie Huaisang sent Xiao Xingchen away before they reached the doors.)

The Healer’s Sash, which can manipulate natural forces like the wind, the tides, and tectonic plates just as easily as it can manipulate a heartbeat or a pair of lungs.  (Wen Qing–she prays to Pelor, the Dawnfather, the healer and Lord of Light, but she’s long since lost her faith in him as anything but a contracted boss.  It’s a shock to everyone including her when she’s granted a right arm made of glass and magic after losing it.  She was so determined to make a Relic that could be used for good, but–well.  She supposes she should have known better.)

The Philosopher’s Stone, which can more or less transform anything into anything.  (Jiang Yanli–she’s a Transmutation wizard, she’s been feeding the crew of the Starblaster for a hundred years on whatever she can pull together.  If the right person found the Stone, it would have ended world hunger.  The wrong person found the stone.  Jiang Yanli tried her damnedest to hunt it down, but she found the Gauntlet first, and, well–she already became a lich to stop one younger brother from doing it.  It’s not a struggle to decide that she’s going to take responsibility for saving Jiang Cheng from his own guilt.  Then things go horribly wrong, and she spends the next twelve years in an umbrella.)

The Temporal Chalice, which offers complete control over time.  (Wen Ning–he was a strict scholar until his sister was contacted about the IPRE’s creation, but he always did want to travel, and his theories about bonds were too good for Xiao Xingchen to pass up having on his crew.  Everything he’s done since they lost their home system has been about trying not to leave his family, about trying for second chances, he became a lich for them, he’s done everything to stay with them, of course his Relic is a second chance generator.)

The Animus Flute, which offers control over the spirits of the dead and, in the hands of a sufficiently competent expert, the living.  (Wei Wuxian–he’s watched his brother, his sister, his friends, die so many times.  He’s terrified of immortality, but he’s most terrified of being alone.  He meant to make something that could keep the dead present, so that they would never have to fear being left behind again.  Watching it rip Jiang Cheng’s soul clean out of his body in Xue Yang’s hands is the worst thing Wei Wuxian can remember, even after everything is over.)

The Bulwark, which Nie Huaisang never did explain to anyone, but took the shape of a hand-painted fan.  (Nie Huaisang lost the only person who mattered to him when the Hunger ate their home, and then as he slowly, painstakingly, rebuilt something like a family, he had to watch them suffer and die for a hundred years.  And then he watched them win, and grieve like dying all over again for the winning.  He’s sorry they suffered for his actions.  He’s not sorry for what he did.)

FIVE

Wen Zhuliu didn’t mean to make his whole plane give up.  But he had spent his whole life being used, and it all just seemed so pointless.  It all just seemed so pointless.  There was always someone stronger, always something bigger, always a rule he couldn’t break, always something, and he started talking, started telling people as much, and--

Wen Qing is about the farthest thing in the fucking world from a peacemaker by nature, if you ask her, but she’s a healer first, last, and most of all.  And, she thinks as she watches the sun sink with a very tired man crumbling away at her side, she might be the only person in the worlds who ever noticed that Wen Zhuliu needed a healer.

(They aren’t from the same plane, but--some of the others have found distant family, on their new home.  It’s an unanswerable question, if they might have been family, a few dimensions removed.  Wen Ning still thinks about it.)

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 11.5

What Does a Moth Sound Like?

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time: the party returned to Barley to deal with a few loose ends while their hired muscle dealt with the biggest, scaliest loose end. Between that session and the next, we had a brief mini-session to wrap up one of said ends we'd left unwrapped- what exactly is up with the Kanthalga family?

(Also included: a conversational omake between Looseleaf and Saelhen, pictured courtesy of @drazelic, Looseleaf's player.)

After their encounter with Kensa, Oyobi tries to talk the party into going to the tower and helping the Deathseekers kill the dragon. Her brilliant plan of "stab it in the brain before it can cast any spells" has some flaws, though, and they patiently explain the plan's many flaws and strike a blow against Oyobi's sense of invincibility.

They also ask Malath a few questions, trying to get to the bottom of her odd discomfort with the idea of the dragon as a culprit and the presence of Deathseekers.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "When we spoke before, you asked us whether the dragon was green. I regret that I still cannot answer, as I have not seen it, or heard any news on the topic from the deathseekers. But you seemed... concerned that it might be a green dragon. Is there any reason that such a dragon might pose a particular threat to your town?" Benedict I. (GM): "Mmm. I don't know if you've heard, but... going on thirty years ago, there was a town to the east called Grain." "It was attacked by a green dragon, and the elders... as the dragon had words with them, they had to be remanded to the custody of their gods." Looseleaf: Oooh, that is harsh. Benedict I. (GM): "In the ensuing chaos, the miscreants who now inhabit Wheat set fire to the town and fled further east." "The survivors of the disaster fled west, and established Barley here." "If that same dragon still has its sights on our people, we could be in grave danger." "We refused to submit once, and it very nearly destroyed us."

As far as they can tell from their questioning, Malath isn't hiding any dark secret- she's just sort of a control freak, who's nervous that her control over the people might slip. Plus she's worried that if the dragon is provoked and comes to town, she- as the current elder in charge- might suffer the same fate as Grain's elders.

Saelhen... isn't satisfied with this. Something seems wrong about Malath Kanthalga- Thalath wouldn't try to enlist their help rescuing Kensa for no reason. She takes the party to the general store, in hopes of catching Kensa on her nightly delivery.

Kensa arrives as expected, but when she sees Saelhen there, she makes her delivery and tries to leave, rather than sit at the loom as is her custom. She seems afraid of Saelhen.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...I don't intend to keep you from your work. Though I did have a question I wanted to ask you, dear. If you'll permit me one." Kensa Kanthalga: "...A question?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Of a sensitive nature, possibly. Something vouchsafed to me by... someone you might know." Kensa Kanthalga: She looks less afraid and more confused, now. And after thinking a moment... "...oh." She actually looks a little angry, now. "That makes sense." "He sent you, didn't he?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: Okay, the conclusions she's reached here... may or may not be correct! "Under what I am starting to think may have been false pretenses." Kensa Kanthalga: "What did he tell you? Did he say I was being brainwashed?" "I don't need to be rescued from my duty by someone who abandoned his!" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "More a very general concern for your person than anything --" Ah, there's the word that raises her hackles, duty.

Having somewhat misread the situation, Saelhen is unpleasantly surprised to find that Kensa seems just as devoted to the teachings of Diamode as Malath is, and has no interest in fleeing. She seems contemptuous of her older brother on the basis that, uh...

Well, the Goddess of Family, who's all about having kids and living a very prescribed sort of life path inside strict gender roles, is- as might be unsurprising- a bit of a homophobe. The party never met Thalath's boyfriend (who works the night shift at Wheatley Inn- they never stayed the night there), but there are several reasons why the place isn't popular with the locals.

Saelhen is caught kind of flat-footed here- she can tell something's still not quite right, but she doesn't have the kind of cultural context to unravel this level of baggage.

Luckily, she brought along an ersatz cleric of Diamode, and so... Orluthe is able to spot the missing piece of the puzzle.

Orluthe Chokorov: Orluthe, in the back, has been looking increasingly uncomfortable. So far, he's had his stole and cap stowed away, so as not to be recognized as a cleric of Diamode. He's now taking them out and putting them on. "Hey, um, miss?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen... legitimately forgot he had those. Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa turns and notices him- possibly for the first time. "Oh, ah- Mr., um..." Orluthe Chokorov: "Chokorov," he says. "I'm..." He holds up a hand, and points at a tiny circular scar around his pinky finger. "You have one of these, right?" Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa looks down at her hand, and you can see- yes, she has a matching scar. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Well. That's novel information about Orluthe. Religion check to... I mean, we know the finger-cutting thing. I guess a "what does this mean, it's not like these two have disowned anyone" check. 13 - RELIGION (2) Benedict I. (GM): With a 13, you know that only a parent needs to cut off their finger- but you're not sure what happens with sibling relationships. This might be something related- like you don't have to cut your finger off all the way? Some sort of signifier that the connection has been severed, though you don't know the finer doctrinal points. Orluthe Chokorov: "My older sister," he says. "Four years ago. We all had to get the mark." Kensa Kanthalga: "Wait, but..." Orluthe Chokorov: "You didn't want that to happen to you, too, right?" "You can't stand up to a power like that. You'd never win, right? If I tried to defend my sister, my parents would have two missing fingers." "You have to pretend, right?" Kensa Kanthalga: "Why... no, it's... I really...!" Orluthe Chokorov: "Feels that way, doesn't it? For a long time." Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa looks terrified- like for the first time, someone's seen right through her. Orluthe Chokorov:"It's not a betrayal of your family- of your duty- to... have love." "There's nothing in Diamode's teachings about the mark, you know? Neither of us had to take it." Saelhen du Fishercrown: ...well. That's a... new consideration. Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa's on the verge of tears, looking like she's about to bolt. "N-no, I- I really... want to... I have to..." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen is right back to Steal This Child Town. "...wait, do you seriously mean that the finger-cutting thing came after the scripture?" Orluthe Chokorov: Orluthe nods. "I mean, the finger-cutting is... it's a punishment. You're not supposed to disown your children. It's not like you can do it and then you lose the finger and then you're all square and it's fine." "And when parents scar their kids' fingers to make them share in a punishment for a sin they didn't commit... Diamode doesn't want that." "I should know," he says, gesturing to his vestments. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...well. Thank you, Orluthe." Saelhen's face is hard. "I was previously under the impression that I had misunderstood a culture which is strange to me." "But now it sounds as if... I haven't, quite." Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa's makeup is starting to run. "What... what do you know? I- I wanted to... if I could've... I couldn't..." "What do you want with me?!" "I had to, okay? I have to!"

Orluthe having successfully exposed Kensa's fear and dissatisfaction with the situation, Saelhen proceeds to talk her around to trying to leave. It's pretty touch-and-go for a little bit, but Kensa's mind is made up when the party mentions that they're going to be passing through Corolos. Apparently, there's something there she really cares a lot about...?

So they're going to need a few days for Kensa to prepare to, uh, run away with a bunch of strangers. That's- this is technically kidnapping, right? This isn't something you should do in real life? This is kind of bad? Hm. Well.

-

Anyway, they've got some downtime here in Barley while the Deathseekers do their work and Kensa prepares to leave. And- well, later in the campaign, there was a flashback to this time period, so I'm going to cover that scene here.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: So: days in the past (but not many)... It's Cassie Zeishus's inn, and Saelhen is brushing up on her card tricks; she's let herself get rusty, just a bit, ever since she left... Well, since she got to Oyashio, anyway. She's cutting a borrowed deck at one of the inn's tables, downstairs, flicking cards from hand to hand, then up her giant poofy sleeves. Where's Looseleaf? Looseleaf: Probably sitting around outside, doing her whole 'fix-things-up' gimmick! After the early burst of things-to-fix, though, business has dried up a little. There's just not that many broken things left to fix that people need help with after a while! Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen is... bored, she decides, for a reason. She can't evaluate how impressive her card tricks/cheating techniques are without a proper audience! She knows how they work already! So she leans out the door. "How goes the repair work?" Looseleaf: "It isnnnnn't," Looseleaf says back. "I think that there's not much repair work left in Barley at all!" "I've done too good a job and my business has dried up. This is why you never peddle perfect cures, innit." Abruptly, she gets up from the carpet she'd gotten Orluthe to roll out for her- the one from Lumiere's tower. "Boooored." She rolls it up. "I demand entertainment."

Saelhen decides to entertain Looseleaf by performing a card trick... and proceeds to roll a natural 1 on her sleight of hand check. She completely fucks it up, and Looseleaf- who had to be convinced to put money on the wager- earns herself a silver piece.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...I lost the card." "So I'm going to have to replace that for Cassie. On account of her deck being a card short." "Your card, specifically." Looseleaf: "Hhhhokay." "Wow, you're actually serious, aren't you." "I thought this was still part of the bit, but, if you're serious, you know the card's on the underside of your shoe, right?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "I just want to reassure you that I'm good at this, Looseleaf --" Looseleaf: "I thought you'd stepped on it because, y'know, part of the trick." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "No, I already checked there --" Saelhen finds the Hierophant stuck to her instep. There's a beat. Then she blushes furiously, in what looks like actual mortification. "Oh damn it." "I haven't done that since I was sixteen, what the hell..." Looseleaf: Looseleaf laughs. It doesn't sound like her usual laugh, and you can only tell it's a laugh because she's bowled over laughing. The actual sound of the laughter sounds like- trilling chirps with a hint of vibration, a distinctly insectile sound. "Oh gods," she says while somehow still laughing simultaneously, "that was- I'm so sorry about how much I'm laughing, Saelhen-" She's still moth-laughing. "Please understand that your status is no way diminished in my eyes and you are still every bit as much of the cool conwoman you always were in my eyes- oh my gods I'm going to die laughing."

Saelhen, intrigued, attempts to use her preternatural skill at impressions to try and copy the laughter, which Looseleaf finds freaky-deaky.

Looseleaf: "Yeah, if you really want to imitate mothspeech what you actually need are the standard instruments. Your throats are not cut out for the kinds of vibes we naturally talk with." "No offense- your throats are perfectly nice, I mean." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "I'm aware my throat is lovely." "What do you mean, standard instruments? Some kind of... pipe, or flute, or something?" Looseleaf: "The Standard Instruments," she says, this time with an intonation so that Saelhen can tell it's words with Capitalized Letters, "are... sort of like a flute, yeah, except instead of working like a woodwind it's more like, a bunch of little flutes with flaps of springy metal at the end, so when you blow through the flute the flaps vibrate and you get a sound that's way closer to the range of sounds we make, and it doesn't hurt your throat nearly as much. The Standard Instruments for imitation mothspeech." "Alternatively, if you knew spirit magic, we could have just taken you to the Archive of the Ever-Living Voice, but that's not really an option..." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen attempts to imagine this. "So, ten harmonicas glued together." Looseleaf: "Yeah pretty much." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...that last comment sounded alarmingly practical, in its concerns, Looseleaf." "Are you proposing to teach me, here?" Looseleaf: "How dare you imply that I would ever let slip the magical secrets of my people to an outsider who knows nothing of our ways or our culture why I am absolutely offended and ha ha I'm just messing around." "If you want to learn mothspeech," Looseleaf hesitates for a moment. "...Well, we should get started by trying to put together, as you put it, ten harmonicas!" "...Does this town have harmonicas?" Benedict I. (GM): This town totally has harmonicas.

So it looks like Looseleaf is going to be teaching Saelhen the language of the mothfolk!

Looseleaf hesitates, though. "...You know, learning mothspeech is- well, it's not likely to be useful, you know?" "There's, like, no chance you're ever going to get to really put it into use with anybody other than me." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...it is a bit obscure, isn't it?" Saelhen looks contemplative for a moment... then cracks a grin. "Which means that absolutely no one will know when I insult them." "Beyond their range of hearing, even! Oh that'll be such an easy way to blow off steam, dear, I love it."

After a shopping trip to assemble the device that substitutes for having moth mouthparts, they have a nice time bonding over linguistics. Building the thing is tricky, but... Saelhen gets a good roll!

Looseleaf:"...Y'know, trying to reverse-engineer an instrument just from how you saw it once is... more difficult than I thought it would be." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen expertly pulls two pieces together. "This and this, yes?" Looseleaf: "Yeah, make sure you leave extra length on the tubes- I don't know exactly how long they have to be so we might have to cut them down a little to fit... The day continues. Looseleaf teaches Saelhen a whole plethora of fun insults in mothspeech. Things like, "You must have had a hole in your cocoon while you were pupating, because your brain clearly leaked out during your metamorphosis." "Remind me what instar you are again?" And, her favorite of all, a surprisingly terse noun that apparently translates to "immature child who sticks two feathers on their forehead and thinks that means they have the antennae of an adult."

Saelhen manages to nail the pronunciation pretty quickly, and adds Mothfolk to her list of languages.

The conversation turns to Elvish (Looseleaf is shocked to learn that Oyobi has been being rude this entire time!), and Saelhen's upbringing in Kanzentokai.

Looseleaf is shocked by Saelhen's quick mastery of the language- and of Tabaxi, and Halfling, which are apparently languages she speaks.

Eventually, Looseleaf decides to make a wager with Saelhen. The stakes: if Looseleaf can fool Saelhen with a card trick of her own, Saelhen has to teach her Thieves' Cant. If she loses, she'll have to tell Saelhen how she did the trick- a standard "is this your card" situation.

Saelhen gets a 21, and Looseleaf then has to explain that she was able to track the card via... spirit-linking. Which she then has to explain she's been doing to the bracer.

Looseleaf: "I'm trying to use this as a, uh, lighthearted segue, to confess to the fact that I've soooorta actually had a tracking magic thing set on you, like, since we met." "I'm hoping that's not, un- discomforting for you, since you said, you liked the whole suspicion thing I had?" "But, yeah, uh, I was totally suspicious of you the whole time, and my first response to seeing someone I pegged as a conwoman trying to con the university out of a magic item was, to, put a tracker on the magic item." "Which is that bracer. I know the position of that bracer, at all times, as long as it's within ten miles of me; further than that, and I know the direction it is relative to me." "I'm coming clean because- well, I guess, we're friends now actually, and you should know about the fact that I'm technically tracking your movements. And also because I want to give you the option to tell me to fuck off with that shit, if you want to." "I think that keeping the tracker's still a good idea, on a practical level, though, because of the, uh, use-case, where, a scary badguy chops your arm off to take the bracer, like that way we could still get your arm back and get the bracer back and I'm also rambling because I'm nervous that this is the end of our friendship aha." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen has gone very still. Like the hackles-up bristling from earlier, except... a lot less movement. "......" Looseleaf: "Look, if you want me to turn it off I'll turn it off!" Saelhen du Fishercrown: And then she very deliberately settles back into motion, with barely even a little bit of shaking hands! Deep deep breath. "...you make a good point. "About the, bracer tracking." "I am..." "Fine, with it." Looseleaf: "Iiii am not convinced you are fine. You seem like you are in fact very emotionally distraught about it," Looseleaf says with caution. "I could... put a tracker on something that's not the bracer, for you to hold, of your own volition?" "Really, at this point, I'm less scared of you running off with the bracer, and more scared of something happening to you because of the bracer." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...with a condition." "Which is that you do not tell anyone that you can track things, or, if you have to reveal your hand, that you don't tell anyone that you can find me." Looseleaf: "...You don't want to be found, by... something or someone that wants to find you?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "In general, no." "...I'll tie something around the bracer. Or place a coin between my skin and its surface, or something. You can track that." Looseleaf: "Okay. I'll try my best to not tell anybody about my ability to find you. Except unless I have very good reason to believe that, I dunno, a dragon has abducted you and if I don't find help for you then you're dead, or something like that. Is that fine?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "That would be fine, thank you. And I forgive you for... the initial... situation."

It seems... Saelhen really doesn't want to be found, by someone. I wonder who?

Still, the two of them manage to talk the issue over like adults, and grow closer as friends- so that means everything is probably fine, there's no secrets anymore, and absolutely nothing else is going to go wrong in the town of Barley.

NEXT TIME: END OF DAYS!!! HOMICIDAL INTENT!!! THE SINISTER MACHINATIONS OF THE SHADOW-MAYOR OF WHEAT!!!

[shiny-procrastinates]

(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 6

part 5 here

Hello everyone, welcome back! Today, we will be watching episode 6. Last time, some really weird (well, weirder than normal), pre-established rule breaking things happened to some of our girls. How come? Is Kaede going to be alright? Will Yachiyo fill Iroha in on what happened? We'll have to watch to find out.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record S1 episode 6

We open this episode with a, uhhh... alluring...? Witch show. A group of unknown magical girls is hunting this witch. Seeing the amount of familiars, the girls in front decide to revise their plan, but the girl called Felicia just barges right in, forcing her team to follow after her.

Seems this girl has a real beef with witches.

Hey, Tsuruno's now in the opening!

Rather than continuing the scene before the opening, we are now back to Iroha, who stayed over at Yachiyo's place after the events from the previous episode.

The two eat breakfast, and we learn that Yachiyo's place used to be a bording house. That explains why it's so big.

Iroha thanks Yachiyo for cleaning her Soul Gem, to which Yachiyo is like "?" for a moment before connecting the dots. As it stands, it seems like Iroha doesn't know what happened and Yachiyo's not telling her either. On the one hand, that seems like a bad idea, on the other, well, we saw Kaede's reaction.

Yachiyo changes subject to Iroha's plans for today.

...thanks, Takarazaki Milk, for reminding us where Iroha's from.

Iroha's going to be investigating Kamihama some more, so Yachiyo advises her to keep being a magical girl a secret as best as she can, particularly if she's going east beyond Chuo Ward. Wonder why the direction matters.

...not really important, but I'm bothered I can't remember what this place is.

Iroha takes a walk around Sankyo Ward looking for Ui, finally arriving at a weeeird part of town.

Other than telling her not to walk around at night, maybe Yachiyo should've told her not to enter places that seem out of a horror movie. Also, maybe Iroha's just so used to witch Labyrinths this doesn't even register as bizarre to her anymore. (It's probably just Shaft being Shaft).

This... really is almost a Labyrinth, isn't it.

This couldn't get more suspicious if it tried. It might as well have someone screaming "scam!".

Iroha is offered a bottle and hesitates to accept until she sees

the kid berserker from before drinking it.

Still, I get Felicia, but did your parents not teach you not to accept things from strangers, Iroha?

But well, for the moment, the water itself seems to be fine, other than it being drugs. No way this'll blow up on their faces or anything.

In any case, Iroha goes back to her wandering. It seems she's in Kosho Ward right now.

Now, not only did Iroha accept things from strangers, she also did the one thing Yachiyo warned her about: she got outed as a magical girl.

Good thing the Soul Gem rings work as name tags too. It's written "Felicia".

Iroha's now being extorted by a 13 y.o.

Not that she's that much older, but still.

Thankfully(?) she's saved by a witch appearing.

This witch seems a bit like the one on the start of the episode. Felicia, of course, doesn't even need Iroha's help, she just wrecks everything with her big ol' hammer. Rather, it's more dangerous for Iroha herself to be there lol

Look at that cute smile.

Felicia goes right back to extorting... I mean, asking Iroha for payment. Iroha makes the fair point that she didn't ask for her help, but Felicia makes the even fairer point that a weakling like her would be dead if she hadn't, so Iroha finds herself with no choice but to pay up... in ice cream. Seems her allowance's running dry from coming to Kamihama every day.

The two go for some ice cream and start bonding. This girl is Felicia Mitsuki, and she makes a living as a mercenary who takes on jobs from other magical girls.

While Iroha's out doing ill-advised things and making new friends, Yachiyo's dropping by the Coordinator's and happens to overhear the team who had hired Felicia before, and...

Oh my god Mitama what have you done this time. This is blasphemy towards food, you know.

Alas, a wanted sign is kinda too much for a simple warning, don't you think?

Seems like Felicia's (un)famous for her berserker tendencies.

Yachiyo came here to hear some new information about the rumors, but first she has to deal with a new guest.

Ohhh talking about food, look who's here. It's Kyoko!

Apparently, Kyoko came here due to the decrease in witches in the surrounding regions. She expected she'd get into trouble hunting witches in another magical girl's territory, but Yachiyo says it's fine as long as she doesn't pick a fight with anybody. She's let down by how easy it was but says she'll just do whatever then. While she's at it, she also pokes at the same thing Mami said about someone gathering witches, but Yachiyo shoots her down right away. Did Kyoko hear something from Mami or did Kyuubei tell her this?

Back to Iroha and Felicia, the two are still on their lucky strike. Hey, seems the Lucky Owl Water wasn't a scam after all!

The two just keep on winning and winning (also who let kids into casino) and as expected Iroha's starting to get suspicious about their unnatural luck.

"I still got a dupe"

After winning amounts of money that would probably make broke college student Yachiyo jealous, the two go out to have lunch.

Felicia compliments Iroha's guts to enter the east like that, and Iroha takes the opportunity to ask her if she knows her sister. (not related but the way the table is set gives a great sense of the difference in age and tastes between these two. Iroha's a simple and responsible girl, so her food is only japanese cuisine and problably only as much as she can eat, while Felicia is a kid who probably never had this amount of money, so it looks like she just went ahead and ordered everything she wanted to eat.)

Felicia offers making an exclusive contract with Iroha, and Iroha asks why is Felicia even a mercenary at all. Felicia says if she doesn't work she can't eat, so Iroha asks where are her parents, to which Felicia responds, well...

They're dead. They were killed by a witch. That explains why Felicia's got a thing with witches.

As if she had guessed the uncomfortable atmosphere, Yachiyo calls. Iroha glances hesitatingly a moment at Felicia before answering. Seems Yachiyo has information about a new rumor.

...wait, isn't Lucky Owl Water the thing Felicia and Iroha drank just earlier? So it was a scam after all!

Perfect fashion sense there, Tsuruno.

Iroha and Felicia go meet up with Tsuruno and Yachiyo. Tsuruno knows who Felicia is, and Felicia knows who Yachiyo is, but has no idea about Tsuruno. While Tsuruno protests this, Yachiyo scolds Iroha for failing her one job, and warns her about Felicia's berserker tendencies.

Yachiyo confirms that Iroha has drank the Lucky Owl Water, and tells her the contents of the rumor about it. So basically, once you drink it, 24 lucky things will happen to you and after these 24 things are over a barrage of bad luck will follow. Yachiyo doesn't know what that "bad luck" actually entails, but she has found that even magical girls have gone missing this time.

Felicia thinks all this is a bunch of nonsense so Yachiyo tells her to just go away then. Felicia does just that, but kind-hearted Iroha stops her from going away by hiring her.

Felicia names her prices and Iroha's about to pay, but Yachiyo tells her to make it something besides money, so Iroha offers making Felicia dinner instead.

Look at her, Felicia really is a nice kid. Not only did she half her price instead of doubling it if it's not a witch, she's totally fine with being paid in food. I mean, there is the fact that she needs to work to eat but... she's not cut out for running a mercenary business.

Still, for the moment, Felicia's not part of the team.

Iroha and co. go back to where Iroha drank the Lucky Owl Water and, although everyone's still blissfully unaware of how bizarre this place is, it seems they now can see the familiars(?) as familiars. Is it that thing? The one where you can only perceive what you are looking for?

Felicia picks a fight with the... uh... Thing, please give us a name anime, and it disappears. Yachiyo chides Felicia for jumping the gun, and the two start fighting.

*Kaos noises*

Tsuruno appropriately cuts in, and Yachiyo theorizes that, just like the previous times, they'll have to find and beat the rumor's true form in order to undo it. Preferably before Iroha and Felicia's luck runs out.

Aaand Kyoko was listening in on them.

Iroha and co. start investigating the rumor. Seems the storyteller from the scenes explaining the contents of the rumors aren't just for show, they actually exist, though the girls hearing the rumor from it don't seem to notice it's not human.

Oh, there. That'd explain why Iroha and Felicia didn't notice the Owl Water the first time... still doesn't excuse them from accepting things from strangers though, lol

...look at Yachiyo's cool composure as she pins down poor Felicia. Brutal.

The girls chase after the storyteller familiar. Now peeps, if you've been paying close attention, you'll notice this episode has been counting down Iroha's and Felicia's luck ever since they drank the Lucky Owl Water. Neat, right? I won't post all of them since 24 is a lot, but did you guys catch it?

Anyways,

while chasing down the familiar, the girls are surrounded by a group of weirdos in hoods. Managing to string together a sentence with their impeccable coordination, they tell our girls they are obstructing the Magius's plans, whoever that is, by chasing the Rumor. It's just for a moment, but the screen flashes that one paper slip that's slapped everywhere there's rumors involved. I'm also pretty sure there's one inside Yachiyo's notebook too.

The group continues their speech and Yachiyo conveniently translates for us: they're saying they'll give them the water everyday, as long as they keep away from the Rumor.

Tsuruno protests that there are magical girls who got caught up in this rumor, but the group continue with their talk of Magius and telling them not to interfere.

I really like the panning in this one shot. You clearly get a sense of how while the older girls, Yachiyo and Tsuruno, know something's up and are willing to bonk the weirdos, Iroha and Felicia are in doubt about what these girls are saying. Their mind spaces are so different separating them just with the shadows wasn't enough: they had to be in different frames altogether.

...I don't think the person who decided on this thought that far, but still.

Anyway, Felicia bites their bait and asks about the "all witches will disappear" part. The weirdos, who know about Felicia, say they'll hire her. The reward? The elimination of all witches.

Too bad Iroha, seems your handmade dinner wasn't an appetizing enough reward.

So! Felicia decided to go with these weirdos, the Wings of the Magius, who say they know a way to get rid of all witches. Well... that'd better be a more efficient method than the one Suzune thought, or else they're not getting anywhere.

Going by what they said, these girls have something to do with the rumors... or rather, Rumors, because that's not confusing at all. They also said something about salvation, so they probably have something to do with the rampant dream-ads that the magical girls outside Kamihama are having. How rude. I wonder how much would you have to pay for one of those?

Jokes aside, with this, we finally have a new lead on the weird things going on in Kamihama. And not only us, either. Kyoko also learnt something about the Rumors. Which brings up the question: where is Mami? She should be investigating Kamihama, but she hasn't shown up since she tried to shoot Iroha. Weird.

Well, the only way to answer the obscene amount of questions this show likes to bring up is by watching, but before I finish this up I'd like to write down the numbers on this episode:

24-23: Felicia's ice cream's package; 23-22: raffle ticket; 22-21: raffle drawing; 21-20: falling coins; 20-19: slot machine's label; 19-18: bet nº; 18-17: fever!; 17-16: Magireco's game currency (lol); 16-15: the table's number; 15-14: the paper one of the familiars is holding; 14-13: formed by the light on the ground.

Nothing lucky happens after that one, so I think these are the ones in this episode. I feel this was the first time in all my rewatches I caught the one on Felicia's ice cream and the one the familiar was holding, so maybe I got some of that luck too, haha.

This ran on longer than I thought it would for Felicia's introduction episode. I'll be releasing you people from this barrage of text now, so I hope I'll still see you next time when we watch episode 7. Have a good morning/afternoon/evening! Bye-bye!

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 4

serial killer!han jisung au

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 1.8k

warnings: themes of domestic abuse, descriptions of violence, and foul language.

description: jisung keeps getting flashbacks, and he’s determined to do whatever it takes to keep them at bay. tonight, however, he makes one mistake that sends everything spiralling out of control.

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04| two roads diverged

A light fog was seeping into the night air when Jisung stepped out of your apartment complex, flinging the empty takeout boxes into the Dumpsters as he staggered past. There were no cars on the street at this hour, the campus having shut it gates an hour or so earlier. He checked his phone. 1:00 A.M. on the dot. 

He ducked into an alleyway -- a shortcut -- which was also dim, lined sparsely with flickering street lamps that split his shadow into distorted fragments. In his peripheral vision, it almost looked like someone was following him. Yanking his hood over his head, Jisung began walking faster.

“You’re dead,” he mumbled, eyes darting around as he wove through the alleys. A dull throbbing was beginning to ebb and wane in his head. “You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re supposed to be dead.”

His fist slammed into the brick wall on the last word, entire body slumping forward. The sound of his own heavy breathing seemed to echo in his ears as he screwed his eyes shut, images flashing behind his eyelids. Your smiling face under the veil of moonlight, eyes softened into crescents. Her bled-out, empty one, eyes staring back at him but not seeing. Jisung had thought he could take it -- the hot flashes of memories you seemed to draw out of him without even trying. He’d thought that maybe, he could last one night, that if you were by his side, the nightmares would finally stay at bay. That maybe, if you thought that he was a normal boy, he could convince himself, too.

Feet feeling like they were dragging through cement, he stumbled to the end of the alleyway, which opened up into the clearing of a park. In front of him now was a children’s playground. During the day, it was alight with shrieks of laughter and joy, mothers and fathers chasing their delighted children up and down slides and colourful swing sets. Now, however, it was hollow and barren as a graveyard, cold metal waiting for the new day to bring back its warmth.

On his left lay the Yellow Wood, where two paths of the park diverged into a thicket of sparse forest. Across from the playground, Jisung could see the main street, lined with shops. Their windows were dark now -- if he wasn’t wrong, the latest shop on campus closed at 1 A.M. -- the buzzing of their dim neon signs echoing like sinister whispers down the empty street. 

Jisung felt two eyes watching him, the back of his neck prickling, and he turned to see a stray dog, small and scraggly. It had floppy ears and matted fur that might have once been blond -- like a teddy bear that had been through the wash one too many times. Letting out an incredulous laugh, Jisung bent down, shaking fingers reaching to scratch it behind its ears. A breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding escaped his lips. He was okay. He was still in control.

“Why the fuck are you crying? Get the fuck up.”

Jisung’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, squinting through the hazy darkness. He held his breath, and heard muffled crying, the voices growing closer.

“I said, stop crying!” 

A sharp slap rang through the night air, and Jisung’s hand froze in the stray dog’s fur. He narrowed his eyes, making out the outlines of two figures by park entrance. It was a man who was speaking -- yelling, really -- his voice slurred, evidently drunk. Cowering in front of him, face buried in her hands, was a smaller woman. The man’s hand shot out again, seizing a fistful of her hair.

“Fuckin’ bitch. You want to leave me? I’d like t’ see you try.” He yanked her head up, sneering. “If you make another sound, I swear I’ll--”

Crunch.

Jisung didn’t register his feet moving across the playground until he felt his fist connect with the man’s jaw, sending him flying back with a surprised squawk. When the man turned his head back, eyes blazing with fury and confusion, one flared nostril was gushing blood.

“What the--who the fuck are you?” The man’s voice was shrill, gruff hands shoving at Jisung’s chest. “Do you want to die?”

Jisung glanced at the girl, whose hands had flown to her mouth in shock. The two looked as if they’d been back from a night out, the girl--a brunette--wearing black heels, a ripped, damaged blouse, and a skirt. The man looked not much older than Jisung -- maybe a senior, it was too dark to tell. Tears shone on the girl’s cheeks, an angry red welt where her boyfriend had hit her blooming across her face. Jisung’s eyes flashed back and forth between her and the man, back to her again, head beginning to spin. 

This was all so, so familiar.

“I asked you a question, kid!” The man was still screaming, the stench of alcohol on his hot breath momentarily jarring Jisung out of his thoughts. “Hey, are y’ fucking crazy or sumn’--”

Wrenching himself from the man’s grasp, Jisung snapped his arm back and buried his elbow in his face. Blood seeped through his hoodie as the man gave a roar of pain, crashing to the ground. The girl screamed, and Jisung turned to her. She flinched, and he jerked his head towards the main street. “Get...out of here. Go--go home.”

Her wide eyes flickered from her boyfriend, who was currently groaning on the pavement, to Jisung, and took off running. The sound of her frantic heels clicking grew fainter as Jisung stepped closer to the man, who was scrambling to his feet like a chicken with its head cut off. Sighing, Jisung looked around -- his apartment was still a few blocks away, but making a scene on the main road was practically begging for someone to see. His eyes landed on the Yellow Wood.

Ah. That would do.

Seizing the man by the front of his jacket, which was already wet with dark blood from his shattered nose, Jisung dragged the drunk across the artificial sand, through the playground, and into the forest, stopping only when the glow of the street lamps had disappeared behind them, and slammed him against a tree. The man felt like a bag of wet cement and moved like one, too -- limbs sluggish and waterlogged with too much alcohol. Jisung shook his head, a humourless laugh bubbling in his throat. Some people almost seemed to be looking for death.

“Wha--whaddaya think you’re doing? Who--you can’t--”

Jisung picked up a rock from the base of the tree, fingers absently rubbing its cool, jagged surface. It was heavy, with one blunt side. His head was beginning to pound again, cold sweat beading on his forehead as he studied the man. Fear was scrawled all over his features, fingers scrabbling against the tree as he tried -- hopelessly -- to crawl away.

“H-hey! Calm down! I w-won’ do it again, promise -- j-jus’ lemme--”

“You have his eyes,” Jisung breathed, and drove the rock down. They were all he could see -- those eyes, the same ones from thirteen years ago, burning into his own, soaking his vision with red, red, red, as his fist came down again, and again, and again. His own face felt wet, the metallic tang of someone else’s blood trickling through his lips as it spurted from the dying man’s gaping mouth. The screams had turned to gurgles, the hard skull he was striking was beginning to cave in, the jerking of the man’s body beneath him subsiding into feeble twitches instead. And yet the blood in Jisung’s ears was still roaring, and his head was still splitting apart, a thousand voices hissing in his mind.

You killed her. You killed her. You. Killed. Her.

                                                ────────

Yang Jeongin wiped away the sweat dripping into his eyes, slapping his face lightly to stay awake as he pedalled through the alleyways, a list of deliveries rustling in his hand. He had just dropped off his last parcel. Earlier today, he’d gotten hired for deliveries at another store -- this one specialized in late-night shipments, with his latest one running until 1 in the morning. It was probably closer to 2 A.M. now.

Jeongin stifled a yawn. He’d been up since 5 in the morning, and, though he was used to working long hours, he had to admit that this first day was a little hard. Near the end of his shift, his mind had begun to wander to his one-bedroom apartment -- sure, it was small and rundown, and the AC was broken beyond repair, but it was still home. He thought of the warm herbal tea he would drink before crashing for the night. He thought of the stray dog -- it was small and scraggly, and looked more like a worn-out teddy bear -- that often slept outside his window, and smiled, pedalling faster.

His hand reached into his back pocket and pressed the Record button on his Walkman, straightening his earbuds before speaking.

“I.N. here!” He cleared his throat, voice a little hoarse and out of breath from all the biking he’d done. “It is currently...2:04 A.M.! It’s my first late-night delivery -- or is it early-morning? Anyways, it’s exciting, huh? The whole campus seems to be sleeping; no one’s out on these streets at this hour. It feels pretty cool, like I’m carrying out a secret mission or something.

“Anyways. Why did I take up another job? Well, today Hyunjin -- he’s the barista, owner, really, of Glow Cafe -- asked me why I didn’t apply for, you know, a driver’s license or something. At first, I thought, well, there’s no point -- I can’t afford a car, anyways. But --” he let out a long sigh, and laughed. “I’ve decided that it’s worth a try, right?

“I want to pay off my student loans soon. Maybe fix my bike up. It’ll be hard at first, but nothing Yang Jeongin can’t take! Me and my bike, we’re unstoppable.”

He turned onto the main road, cutting into the children’s playground across the storefronts. He knew Miroh Heights like the back of his own hand -- every nook and cranny, hidden alleyways and shortcuts -- and the trail that ran through Yellow Wood led almost straight to his neighbourhood. The leaves and fallen tree branches rustled and snapped beneath the wheels of his bicycle as Jeongin hummed lightly.

Not too far into the Wood, though, an odd sound began to prick at his ears. Was that...breathing? Or just the wind? He looked around, and, as his eyes adjusted in the darkness, he saw the vague shape of...a boy? The figure had his back turned to Jeongin, and was trembling -- as if an electric current was running through him. 

Jeongin skidded to a stop and hopped off his bike, pulling out an earbud. “Hello? Is everything okay over there?”

Silence.

The boy had his hood up, and seemed to be holding something heavy in one hand. Jeongin stepped closer, and realised with a start that there was another man -- was it a man? -- lying at his feet.

“U-um. Is he--do you need help? I can call an ambulance. What hap--”

Without warning, the boy swung around and slammed a rock straight into Jeongin’s head.

[justmailuck789]

Lightis ‘The Witcher’ AU Headcanon

Ever since I was watching Netflix’s The Witcher, my life’s never been the same. I was hot and bothered by it, constantly thinking about it…I was dying for more lmao. Thankfully, there is a Lightis day dedicated to The Witcher, so I thought…why not make silly headcanons about it? I will say though my knowledge of The Witcher storyline and the lore of it is very lacking, so if I got anything wrong, please accept my humblest apology. A bit of a warning though: The headcanon is very lengthy and long. And by lengthy I mean I did it from the beginning and end, because I couldn’t help it to be honest 😅. Hopefully, the undercut will save you guys from reading such a long post. If not, I’M SORRY. Blame Tumblr. Without further ado, let’s start! @lightisdays2k @givelightningherharem

So instead of the existent of “witchers”, there are l’Cie folks living in the world of Eos. And let’s just say these l’Cie have… “superhuman” powers such as strength, prediction of the future, high intelligence, healers, skilled hunters, and more. Finding a l’Cie is pretty hard nowadays since they’re all typically humans. And yes, to identify a l’Cie is if they have their brand on the skin. Most of them cover it up though.

Lightning Farron is a known mercenary l’Cie, always travelling and looking for some gil to feed for herself and sister. Light will accept anything that involves beast eliminations. But because of her always killing beasts, actual hunters who do this for a living get irritated. So, there are a few hunters who are willing to seek her and have her head.

Now let’s fast forward to where Lightning was minding her own business with Serah. The two were trying to find some wood for the fire to use for the night when they hear someone calling for help in the middle of the forest. Light instructs Serah to go back to the tent and hide. The older Farron investigates where the cry is coming from. Lightning finds a lone woman struggling to fight off a big behemoth. The woman’s magic is defending her from the incoming bites and scratches, but her powers are quickly fading. So Lightning comes to the rescue and easily defeats the behemoth before it can eat the woman for dinner.

The woman is thankful for Lightning and asked what she wanted. Lightning has nothing she desires, but the woman insisted. She decides to invite Lightning and Serah over to an upcoming banquet with a neighboring country from Niflheim. This is when Lightning discovers she and her sister are going over to some royal banquet and finds out the woman is Queen Aulea of Lucis. And yes, Queen Aulea knew that Lightning is l’Cie (and Serah too).

So at the banquet, Queen Aulea is already exposing the fact that Lightning and Serah are l’Cie, a race that is thought to be extinct.

Let’s say there as an assassination attempt on King Regis in the banquet (they were probably Niflheim spies, but no one knows), but Lightning has yet again saved the royal family and putting that assassin behind bars. Thankful once again, Queen Aulea asks if there is anything Lightning wants. Lightning does not want anything but finding her “focus”.

Every single l’Cie that is breathing in Eos were destined to find their “focus”. If they were fulfill it, then that l’Cie will be granted eternal life by turning into crystal. Or if they fail/give up finding it, then they turn into a beast. But for the sake of this AU, imma say that the l’Cie were already granted eternal life without being turned into crystal, staying forever in their 20s-30s.

ANYWAYS…the element of surprise comes to play when Queen Aulea suddenly vomits in the banquet! “What did you do?!” Regis panicked. His Queen is pregnant, and it’s linked towards Lightning. Of course, I’m not saying Light is gonna be the mother of Noctis in the future, but he is gonna be connected towards her “focus”.

Destiny (and Serah) starts throwing clues at Lightning about the future of Lucis and the whole world, but Lightning coolly dismisses it because she thinks it’s all foolery.

12 years and 9 months later, Insomnia falls. Just hours before the fall, Lightning and Serah decided to visit Insomnia, after the two sisters had an argument about how the past events they got themselves into were just too coincidental to begin with: like how Lightning was unable to sleep that whole week, the vague words of a dying princess she was hired to kill. Lightning eventually agrees with Serah to accept the fact she and King Regis’s child were meant to be. However, King Regis refuses and puts Lightning and Serah in prison.

Once Niflheim invades Insomnia, Lightning and Serah escaped the prison. They both see that King Regis is dead, making it a very high priority for Lightning to search for the kid.

I KNOW IT’S STUPID BUT HEAR ME OUT--Oh yeah and maybe Serah turns into crystal after fulfilling her “focus” when she tells her sister to find Noctis, now that things are starting to get real.

Meanwhile, 12-year-old Noctis escapes Insomnia, his father’s words of “finding a l’Cie named Lightning, for she is your destiny”. Now I dunno if I want to add in Noct’s friends (Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis). …Maybe I should since it’ll be weird to have Noctis to be by himself. Don’t worry, none of them dies!

Of course, Niflheim does find out Prince Noctis is still out there, alive…and the emperor wants him dead.

At some point, Lightning and Noctis meets up. The real fun begins here because lklfkds. Lightning trains Noctis and the boys most of their lives. Of course, the beginning of training wasn’t too fun in Noctis’s eyes. Wooden swords? Fighting with dummies? LAME. Noctis wants some real training, but Light is so damn strict. She probably made him run about 3 miles and back to her home as punishment.

Noct will quickly learn that Light also has a soft heart. Light can be relentless with her kills whenever there were beasts or bandits within her property, it makes Noct wonder if she’s “human”. This all changes when he sees her tending to an injured black wolf pup. He thought she was gonna kill it, but she didn’t. She was nice enough to let him keep the pup since she can tell the pup is an orphan. Thus, Noctis affectionately names the wolf Umbra hehehe.

Along with the intense training Noct and boys were doing, there were also some cute moments within Light’s house. As a little boy with child-like tendencies, Noctis wanted to play in the beach near her home instead of training today. And because Noct was being so damn cute, Light couldn’t deny him and let him relax. He swore he saw her smile for a second.

And maybe…just maybe…Noctis started to develop feelings for Lightning. He shook his head, it’s only a small crush. I mean she is pretty and all, but she probably has a lover or something…right?

Then about 6 months later (after the beach time fun), some snitch pointed a finger at Lightning’s house, and a small Niflheim army marched over there. SHIT! Lightning cursed and woke Noctis and the boys up. The only thing Noct heard from her is “RUN!” before she clashed a sword with a Niflheim soldier. Noctis wanted to fight, too, but he was too young. So he and the boys fled off while Light fights off every soldier. And it took her a while, got a few injuries, but she survived. She tried to go look for him, thinking maybe he’d hid somewhere but he was nowhere to be found. Light searched high and low for him without any luck.

And let’s say Noct and the boys were caught, but Niflheim only got him in less than a minute because Noct somehow warped away from his captures and escaped with his friends. The boys never really did reunite with Lightning now that Niflheim knows Noct is on the run.

Years later, Lightning finally gets a lead of Noct’s whereabouts after looking for him in what it seems like forever. She wouldn’t know how old he is since it’s been THAT long the last time she saw him. He’s must be an adult by now…she guessed. She eventually learns that the young prince is looking for royal arms scattered around Eos and attempting to defeat Niflheim by himself and his friends (also reclaiming the throne as the rightful king of Lucis).

She would be so close in reuniting with him after years not seeing him, but he’s always a step ahead of her. While Noct is on his mission, Niflheim is also tracking him down. Being the last prince of the Caelum family, he is still connected to the Crystal’s power. And let’s pretend that Emperor Aldercapt can’t get his wrinkly fingers on the Crystal, so as long as Noctis is still alive, which is the reason why Niflheim is hunting him down.

FINALLY, Lightning and Noctis reunite in Altissia! Light would notice…Noct grew to a fine young man, as well as Prompto, Gladiolus, and Ignis. But their happy little reunion would be cut short when there’s word that the Niflheim army is approaching. And Noct and Light knew they wouldn’t be able to fight the army with only five people, so they need to round up few more people. Noct would be asking around the people in Leide region, Duscae, and Tenebrae while Lightning will be rounding up other l’Cie folks, Cleigne region of Lucis, and talking to first secretary Camelia in Altissia.

With the whole world of Eos fighting against Niflheim, the empire army gets a bit overwhelmed heh. The army retreats. But it’s not a celebration yet! Emperor Aldercapt is still alive, and Noct is determined to kill that old man now that he has the 13 royal arms with him.

LET’S TALK ABOUT THE DAMN ROMANCE NOW THAT NOCTIS IS OLDER YAYYYY 😘. Noctis actually wanted to reunite with her earlier, but things keep getting in the way. Maybe Light started to feel attracted to him too when she sees him for the first time in years. Even though he has physically changed, he’s still the sweet boy she remembers. Oh yeah don’t worry Umbra is here too!

In battle though, Noct is little too eager to fight and wants to go in head on with his warp strike. Light would be annoyed by it and the two would argue about how they battle. For example, Noct would sometimes overuse his Royal Arm weapon which drains him and make him vulnerable to attack. Light would be there to deflect the attack and give him a potion. And Ignis and the others would tell Noct he needs to be careful. To his defense, he forgets, but not when Light is yelling at him as if he just committed a murder and didn’t tell anyone.

Now there was a point where Noct and Light were doing a side mission where they were attending a masquerade ball because there is a former Niflheim spy wishing to talk to Noct and spill the tea about the emperor’s plan. The ball itself was beautiful. Light was beautiful in a dress. Noct couldn’t stop staring at her. There was that one time a drunk was stalking them and hitting on Light, that it made Noctis to kiss Lightning to show that she’s supposedly “taken”. The kiss was sweet. She realized…he’s a good kisser 😩.

They probably banged a few times too when the chemistry starts heating up. First time was when they were arguing after the fact a djinn escaped and Noct wanted to use it to grant three wishes 🤭. Light knew djinns are no joke, so she fought and freed the djinn, making Noct pissed hehe. Their second time was when Noct confessed his feelings to her. “You’re important to me…” he whispered in his sleep.

Pillow talk moments where he learns how she craves to be human again instead of being a l’Cie, how he promised her they’ll get rid of the l’Cie mark together, even though it look sexy as hell on her left shoulder 😉.

Romance aside, Noct, his friends, and Light now are gonna prepare to fight Emperor Aldercapt once and for all. They knew the fight is gonna be tough. The travel from Lucis to Niflheim will take them a while. The party created a plan to infiltrate the imperial palace. A group of l’Cie mages will create a magic barrier around the palace to prevent anyone from leaving and/or entering the premise. And if the backup tries to harm the l’Cie, Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto will be there to defend.

Noct and Light would be the one fighting Emperor Aldercapt. It was a tough fight. The old man sure can use his magic pretty well 😯. Noct was gravely injured at some point and was about to be killed when Lightning jumped in took the hit!

But…BUT. Time suddenly stops! Light meets Etro Herself in another dimension. Seems like Etro is mad that Lightning is intervening Noct’s inevitable death. But Light wasn’t going to let it happen because she loves him. Then Etro says something about Light’s focus, which is to make sure Noct doesn’t die and that he is crowned king. But because Noctis is gonna die, it’ll mean Light has failed her focus, but she’s not gonna have that shit. So you know what happens? She fights with Etro 😱. Light ended up winning and decided to let Noctis live and make Light defend the incoming blow once time resumes back to normal. Unbeknownst to her, she didn’t notice her l’Cie brand is gone.

At last, Emperor Aldercapt is defeated! Noct and his friends are now deemed heroes of Eos. Noctis wants Light to be queen, so they married and start rebuilding Insomnia to its former glory 😊.

[homosociallyyours]

@velvet-impala tagged me to answer this long set of questions, and bc I love this sort of thing I’m DOING IT! I’ll tag folks here just in case you don’t want to read thru this whole dang thing. But I wanna say: if you want to do this, PLEASE DO IT and tag me so I can see-- I *love* reading responses to stuff like this. But @la-paritalienne @disgruntledkittenface @and-id-marry-larry @calmrry @crinkle-eyed-boo @lightwoodsmagic -- y’all are tagged :) 

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? black, but what matters most is how smoothly it writes.

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? walkable neighborhood in a city. 3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? would love to learn how to hack into billionaire bank accounts without getting caught so i could redistribute their wealth to a variety of mutual aid funds. :)  4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? no, just milk! unless it’s really shitty/bitter coffee, and then i will take it with a couple sugars or sweetened creamer. 

5. What was your favourite book as a child? probably the Anne of Green Gables books  6. Do you prefer baths or showers? showers! i wanna love a bath, but i get bored too fast and i never feel comfortable (where do i put my head? my feet? what do i do when my belly isn’t covered by the water and it gets cold?) so they’re meh. 

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? dryad! i wanna be a tree spirit!

8. Paper or electronic books? paper, i guess. but i do love reading fic electronically, so..

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? used to be my work hoodie. but now i would say this blue striped button down i have OR this one black dress i have with 3/4 sleeves that’s really soft and comfy. 

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? i always meant to start going by Dottie when I got older, but it hasn’t happened yet so it probably won’t by now? but i would never change my name generally speaking. 

more after the cut! 

  11. Who is a mentor to you? i had a co-worker who was really a mentor for me since i got into being a cheesemonger in 2008. he’s been in the industry for a long time and basically recruited me to the job i have/had here. but when i got sick he basically dropped me/hasn’t spoken to me in a long time. let me tell you: it fucking sucks. bc a mentor is a cross between a friend and a colleague and a relative; we jokingly called him my lesbian uncle. and so losing him from my life so completely over something like this is deeply shitty. 

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for?  not now, but before i was sick i would’ve said yes. BUT only bc i think i would be a great Saturday Night Live host (not a cast member! just a one time host with a monologue/skits). So whatever level of fame i needed to get that..

13. Are you a restless sleeper? I have really bad insomnia that means i take at least an hour to fall asleep most nights. Once I’m out, I usually sleep ok, but i do have intense dreams/nightmares that wake me up sometimes. 

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? yeah :/

15. Which element best represents you? earth: the wet dirt and leaves in a forest after rain in particular

16. Who do you want to be closer to? emotionally i’m pretty good i think. physically i wish i could be closer to friends and family in NYC, Seattle area, TN/Atlanta, and Germany

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? the people referenced above. also missing my Grandmomma a lot lately and my mom. 

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. art lessons with my grandmomma. her set of pastels that were all worn down and the heavy paper (black) that she pulled out to work on. she drew a quick portrait of a man, showing me how to create depth in skin tones with blue and green against the softer flesh tones. she didn’t blend it out, the marks all painterly and strong-- her style. i was 10, maybe? 12? so not *early* but it feels like forever ago. 

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? i have no idea? i’ve eaten a lot of weirdish cheeses. i’ve had geoduck? 

20. What are you most thankful for? the amazing friends i’ve gathered into my life along the way, my dad, and my baby dog. 

21. Do you like spicy food? yes, within reason (i don’t get stuff that’s spicy just for the heck of it, like ghost pepper chips or whatever? but when spice is integrated in with other flavors i love it)

22. Have you ever met someone famous? i used to make up stories about meeting famous people that were based on partial truths. i’ve hung out with or met a lot of gay famous people. but the biggest person who comes to mind is Sandra Bernhard. I sold her cheese.  23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? i have over the years. now i sometimes write things down in a paper journal, but mostly go to a really old blogging site where i basically put all my big feelings down in a public but sorta private spot.  

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? depends on my mood.

25. What is your star sign? taurus sun and moon, gemini rising

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? in between...not HARD crunchy, but not soft soggy. 

27. What would you want your legacy to be? would like people to remember that i loved them well and made them feel good/happy when i was around them. and hopefully that it made them feel like being good to others too. 

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? i do, but i’m mostly reading fic these days. i think the thing i read last was Pink Like the Paradise Found, which was FANTASTIC!

29. How do you show someone you love them? i tell them, shower them with physical affection, and do little things for them. also try to remember small details about what they enjoy and then do stuff to make them feel good when they’re down

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? yes, but not too much

31. What are you afraid of? sometimes being along but only when it’s very dark out and i’m in the sads. honestly-- this is some deep internalized ableism but here it is --i’m very afraid of never getting better and not being able to take care of myself or anyone else. 

32. What is your favourite scent? jasmine flowers, pu-er tea, the specific scents of people i love

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? however they’re introduced i guess. maybe because i’m an older person lol

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? i would live in the apartment i had alone (with a guest room). i would hire someone from my community to come help me out sometimes. i would get a weekly grocery delivery from the good quality place. i would have a dog walker. and i would fly home to see my family more than once a year and fly my family out for a visit sometimes. so like. probably the way a lot of ppl live? idk. 

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? ocean

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? get dinner at the thai restaurant down the street a couple times. 

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? yes, lots! 

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? i’m not having kids BUT for the kids in my life, i try to teach them/model the importance of consent and respect for their own bodies as well as other people’s. and i know it said one thing, but alongside that is that i respect and love them for who they are, and that’s something they get to decide. 

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? i want a lot of tattoos, but if i could get one tomorrow it would be a cheese themed tattoo with a variety of cheese knives (parm tools, dutch style knife) and a small cheese assortment. or a portrait of my dog

40. What can you hear now? this kinda dumb netflix show that i decided to binge today even tho it’s only kinda meh and my dog snoring just a little. 

41. Where do you feel the safest? when i’m surrounded by friends. 

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? my stupid money issues prolly

43. Of you could travel back to any era, what would it be? wanna go back to 1977 and live in the girl direction AU i wrote last year, lol.

44. What is your most used emoji? laugh crying emoji or sobbing maybe

45. Describe yourself using one word. colorful

46. What do you regret the most? not sure if this is a thing but i regret not realizing when i got bitten by a tick/got lyme disease the first time, bc maybe i could’ve just taken antibiotics and killed it, and then maybe i wouldn’t be sick? 

47. Last movie you saw? watched the new charlie’s angels the other night

48. Last tv show you watched? this dumb show is called sweet magnolias, and it’s. honestly not terrible! it’s just not my style of show. OH WAIT i take it back, they left it on a really shitty cliffhanger without warning, and that is the one way to make me drop your show/fic HARD unless i like. genuinely love you. so byeeee dumb show, hope you get cancelled

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. saungry: sadness brought on by being hungry, like hangry except oops you’re crying now! example: “fuck i knew i should’ve eaten before calling my best friend, now i miss them and i’m too saungry to figure out what to eat! Guess I’ll have tears for dinner” (almost called it sungry, but the internet thinks that might just mean ‘so hungry’)

did you make it to the end? WOW! devotion. thank you. 

[waywardodysseys]

Resigned to Fate - Chapter Nine

Warnings: violence, blood, cussing

Word count: 3.8+k

Author’s note: never written for the Star Wars universe before but with The Mandalorian figured why not; Darksaber plays a role in this story so I apologize now for the ending; final chapter; thank you for reading!

Resigned to Fate Masterlist

You are in the middle of a lesson with the foundlings when Kath runs into the room. You stop and look at her, so do the foundlings. You begin to frown as Kath stands there catching her breath.

“Kath?” Your voice slightly higher than usual.

“Ramee,” Kath gasps for air. “Ramee is here.”

You look down at the foundlings. “Stay here children.”

They all nod as you walk out of the room and into the main area of the bunker. Standing in cuffs in a circle of full armored Mandalorians is your father. He smirks as he sees you, “Y/N. Daughter. I’ve come to see you! And I have come in peace!”

You raise your eyebrows. “How did you even find me?

Ramee shrugs. “Your mind was open when you were wounded on Sundari. I was able to see Endor but nothing else. I came alone.”

“What do you want?” You hiss.

“Forgiveness.”

You turn on your heel.

“It’s about Mando. Your Mando!”

You stop and turn back around, facing him. “Go on.” You stammer out as your heart begins pounding inside of your chest.

“Gideon has him and his crew cornered on Nevarro. They are trapped! Gideon knows who the others are. Greef Karga, Cara Dune. They killed another, an Ugnaught Kuiil.”

“The asset Gideon seeks?”

“Alive, and with Dune, Karga, and Mando.”

You had promised Mando you would stay behind. You would be here when he returned alive, when he returned with the green bean. “How long has Gideon given them?”

“Till nightfall. I used the hyperdrive of my ship to get here as soon as I can.” Ramee spits out.

“And how do I know this isn’t some trap?!”

“I saved you from dying daughter! I didn’t kill your Mando because you deserve happiness, you deserve peace. You deserve love. He told me to leave once he found you in Sundari, and I did.”

“And once Gideon is dead, what then?” You ask.

“Then he’s dead. I will leave you alone, leave Endor alone.” Ramee steps out of the circle towards you. “I was surprised you weren’t with him. I figured he asked you to stay behind because of your injury then I wondered if you had told him…”

“Told him what?” Your mind thinks back to the temple. “Oh my gods! I am not pregnant!”

“You sure about that?” Your father asks simply.

You remembered your father could sense you the night he took you away from your adoptive mother. He had a keen ability to sniff out other Force sensitives. You place your hands on your stomach. There was no way, no fucking way, you were pregnant!

“How much time has passed since you left?” You ground out.

Ramee shrugs. “Maybe an hour or two.”

Silence stretches wide.

Kath approaches you from behind, “you should go.”

“He told me to stay.” You whisper trying to keep your emotions in.

Kath pulls on your arm, turning you around to face her. “Go to Nevarro. Recuse Mando, the kid, his team. Come home.”

You look at the ground then back at her, “what if he’s right? What if I’m pregnant?”

Kath’s voice has a smile as she answers, “then we will find out when you return. The child will have you for a mother, a Mandalorian as his father, me for its aunt, and an enclave for its family.”

She leads you over to the weapons cache, then opens a door next to it. Inside is a fully made beskar metal Mandalorian armored outfit. Kath reaches in and grabs the chest plate. “This will protect you, and the child, if there is one.”

“You’ve been hiding this the whole time?” You ask as she places it over your head.

“Yes. We’ve also been adding to it from time to time.” Kath replies.

The chest plate fits you perfectly – not too tight, not too loose. You wondered if they were making it for you because you know some of the enclave had been calling you Mand’alor since they had arrived.

Kath then snaps into place the long black cape. “Missing one thing.” Kath says as she steps to the weapons cache and opens it. She reaches in and holds out her hand.

You look down at your lightsaber. The one you had been gifted from Ramee when you turned into a young woman at the age of 13, it was the one you had given to Kath to hide away because you didn’t want to use it anymore. “You kept it?”

“Yes. You told me to get rid of it but one day, I knew, one day I knew you’d need it. It’s proof there’s good inside of you, proof you can wield your power for the better.” Kath voices smiles.

You grab the saber and hook it onto your belt.

“You look magnificent Deathblade.” Kath states as she looks you over.

You smile, then turn to face Ramee. “Let’s go.”

Ramee smiles and bows. “Of course.” He then reaches out with his arms. “What about the cuffs?”

“They stay on. For now.”

-------

You set down a Y-wing Starfighter on the outskirts of the city on Nevarro. The visor raises and you turn back towards Ramee, who holds out his hands. You sigh as you unlock the cuffs.

“Your plan?” You ask Ramee.

“To get to Gideon. He does have an E-Web, and a flametrooper.” Ramee says as he hops down. He helps you down as well. “I will stall so you are able to get to them.”

“What if you die?” You ask. Your voice is full of concern.

Ramee smiles and caresses your cheek. “I will die knowing I’ve helped you. I will die knowing I tried to be a father in my last moments like I should have been when you were growing up.”

You had to say the words for his benefit. It could be the last time. “I forgive you. Father.”

Ramee strokes your cheek then lowers his hand. “And I love you. Daughter.”

You turn and watch him leave, walking towards the city.

-------

Mando, Greef, and Cara, along with an IG-11 and the kid are inside the blaster riddled tavern. Trapped and on edge. They needed help; they needed a miracle.

“What now?” Cara half shouts. “No fucking way I am going out there just to be hauled off to a Mind Flayer!”

“Those things aren’t real. They invented them to be wartime propaganda.” Greef says before taking a shot of spotchka.

“They’re real!” Cara exclaims. “I’ve heard enough stories to know they are real.”

“Will you two calm down?” Mando barks, trying to catch his breath. He felt like he could die any second. His mind wondered to you. At least you were safe back on Endor.

The kid coos loudly at his feet as he touches Mando’s boot. He’s looking at Mando with his wide ears and big black eyes.

“I know kid. I probably should have brought her along.” Mando hisses through the pain. In the end, Mando thinks, she should be here. He wants you here, he needs you here. His heart aches to see you one last time.

“Her?” Greef and Cara ask at the same time.

“Wait, did you just understand that thing?” Greef asks.

Mando shakes his head. “No but I feel the kid is asking where our protector is.”

“Mando. Who are you talking about?” Cara asks. She looks at the IG-11, “is he losing it?”

“No. He is fine.” IG-11 responds.

“I was on Endor for a few months with someone I hired to protect us, protect me and the kid.” Mando pauses then continues, “she was a former assassin for the Empire.”

“Who?” Cara asks.

“Lots of those.” Greef remarks at the same time.

“Her name was—”

“Deathblade,” Greef finishes for him as he looks out the oblong window of where they’ve taken refuge. “She’s…she’s supposed to be dead.”

“What?” Cara asks as she gets up and walks towards Greef. “Fucking Deathblade!” Cara turns and looks at Mando, “you hired fucking Deathblade?!”

Mando sighs, “yes.”

“She died on Jakku. Well obviously, she didn’t die on Jakku…” Cara mumbles. “She looks hella badass Mando.”

The kid coos loudly and waddles his way over to the door.

“Kid!” Mando states. “Kid! No!”

Mando struggles to stand but is unable to. He watches the kid exit the tavern and into the courtyard.

The kid walks out into the courtyard of the city. Eyeing you in your beskar metal chest plate and black cape. He watches Gideon walk toward you.

“I see you survived.” Gideon remarks.

“You have no one left except your shadow troopers Gideon. You should leave.” You state.

Gideon looks you over then sees the asset. “I want him Deathblade! You are more than welcome to join us.”

You move and stand in front of the child. “You will never have him.”

Gideon turns and faces the shadow troopers. “Kill her and bring the asset to me.” Gideon walks away towards his TIE fighter leaving you alone in the courtyard with the shadow troopers and the kid.

You glance down behind you, “you should’ve stayed hidden.”

The child looks up at you and coos.

“I can handle them,” you nod towards the troopers. You then point towards the open door, “you help them.”

The child frowns at you as he touches your leg.

“We’ll make it,” you whisper. “I promise.”

The child removes his hand and walks back towards the door.

You watch as a couple troopers step forward, but you raise your hand towards them. They stop walking when they hit an invisible wall. You begin clenching your hand and watch them begin to gasp for air.

Another set of troopers begins walking to you and you hold up your other hand, stopping them with another invisible wall. You hear the blaster fire coming from behind you as a woman and older dark-skinned man walk out the door. They take down the remaining shadow troopers and walk up behind you.

“We need you inside,” Cara pants.

“You need to sneak out of the city with the child.” You say keeping your eyes on Gideon looking at his dead troopers.

“Mando isn’t doing so good Deathblade.” Karga says. “He took a hit pretty bad.”

“I will burn you all out!” Gideon shouts.

You sigh and turn towards the door of the tavern, walking into a disheveled room with skewed about chairs and tables, and a few dead bodies. You see Mando resting up against a block of concrete. The kid is resting his hand on his boot.

“Mando,” you say as you kneel beside him.

“Y/N,” he sighs. He reaches out and touches your cheek. His heart pounds at the sight of you. He’s overcome with love for you. It doesn’t matter you disobeyed his order to stay behind. “You came.”

You cover his hand with yours and smile, “I did.”

“I’m not going to make it.” Din says with a crack in his voice.

“You will. I promise.” You say before getting up.

Greef and Cara are looking at you. IG-11 is standing off to the side.

“The three of you need to take the child and go,” you say as you look at the metal grate. “IG take care of the grate.”

The droid walks over to the grate and begins using a torch to melt the metal away.

You walk over and grab the child, see the bag and hand both to Cara. “Take him and go.”

Cara raises her eyebrows. “I don’t do kids.”

“Today you do.” You retort.

The droid finishes with the grate and walks back over. “I am a nursing droid, I could help the Mandalorian.”

You look the droid over. “You’re a killer.”

“I was. Reprogrammed.” The droid replies as the flametrooper begins blasting fire from his torch into the oblong window of the tavern.

Everyone takes cover as the flames spread through the opening into the room.

“Fine,” you hiss. You look at Cara and Greef, the kid. “Please go. We’ll be behind you.”

Cara and Greef look at one another then back at you. They nod and begin the descent down into the sewers.

You kneel next to Mando, your hands on his helmet. You take it off him and notice the blood over his face. “IG?”

“I have bactas spray.” The droid answers.

“I don’t want him…” Mando says.

“The spray will help Mando.” You whisper. “I have to take care of the flametrooper.” You look at the droid. “You can help him down to the sewers?”

“Yes.” IG states.

“You’ll also make sure they all get out? Alive?”

“Yes.” IG repeats.

Mando grabs your arm. “You aren’t leaving me! Do not sacrifice yourself for me!”

“I have a job to protect the child,” you pause and touch his cheek, “to protect you. You hired me. Remember?”

Mando pulls your head down and brushes your lips softly. “I remember.”

You look into his onyx eyes and in this moment you know, you realize – you love him. “I love you Din,” you whisper as you caress his cheek before standing up and walking back out into the courtyard.

Mando returns his focus back to the IG.

“She is genuine in her feelings,” the droid states.

“I know,” Mando whispers. “I know.”

-------

You hold your hand up, creating a Force field in front of you as you walk through the flames and back out into the courtyard. The flametrooper looks at you and as soon as he pulls the trigger your hand reaches up, pushing the flames back at him. The orange flames consume him as he falls to the black sand he was walking on.

Gideon walks forward, your father behind him. “Last time Y/N. Join us.”

“Never.” You hiss.

“This galaxy should know power like yours. Power like the asset has.” Gideon says as more Stormtroopers make their way into the courtyard. “We can control everything.”

“I will die before I let you have them.”

Gideon raises his blaster towards you and your father sees him do this and runs in front of the blaster as it goes off.

The blaster gets Ramee right in the chest. He grabs his chest as he falls forward then back. “She will destroy you Gideon,” Ramee whispers. “She will. Destroy. You.”

Gideon steps forward and looks down, “we’ll see about that.”

You unhook your lightsaber as Gideon steps over your father, walking towards you. Gideon takes out the Darksaber and turns it on. You turn your lightsaber on, the purple beam humming to life, the hilt slightly vibrating in your hands. You hadn’t held this in years, hadn’t used it in years but you know it’s an extension of you, just like your sword had been.

Gideon approaches you, lifting the Darksaber up. Once he is a couple feet away, he brings it down and you block the blow with your lightsaber. You use the strength you have to lift your lightsaber and swing it back at him. Gideon stumbles back as the beam nearly cuts him across the arm.

You and Gideon begin fighting with your sabers in the courtyard. The hums of the sabers filling your ears as you watch Stormtroopers move out of the way. You notice some walking into the tavern, hoping everyone is out of the city alive. Hoping they are on their way back to the Razor Crest.

You feel the pull of the Darksaber and ignore it. It’s calling to you like it had on Sundari. You mustn’t think of it. You think of the lightsaber in your hand, wield it like you wielded your sword. You watch Gideon grasp the Darksaber tighter in his hands.

“Don’t you dare try to remove it from my grasp!” Gideon shouts.

“I’m not doing anything,” you hiss.

“You should give up Deathblade.”

“Never.” You hiss as you push down on Gideon and the Darksaber.

An explosion off in the distance rattles the ground and catches both you and Gideon off guard. You watch as the ball of fire pushes its way up into the air. Fuck, is all you think. And you don’t see Gideon swinging down the Darksaber towards you cutting through the beskar chest plate you are wearing, burning your flesh with the blade of the Darksaber.

“No!” Ramee shouts as he looks on. “No!”

Gideon sneers as he walks off towards his TIE fighter. It lifts off into the air and towards the explosion. Stormtroopers file out of the courtyard, back to their transport units.

Ramee drags himself to your body. He rests one hand on you as he brings you into his lap. “No. No.” He whispers with tears running down his eyes. “Y/N! Daughter. No.” Ramee sobs as he presses his head against yours. “Gods, no. You have a life to live. You’re so much better than I ever was. I’m sorry.” He rocks you in his arms.

In his mind, Ramee sees the galaxy at peace, the Darksaber back on Mandalore in Sundari. He sees the back of the Mandalorian, wearing no helmet. Ramee sees a young child looking up, at you. The last thing Ramee sees is you – smiling, happy, at peace, and in love.

Ramee opens his eyes as he places his hand over your wound. He knows he’s doing the right thing by giving what’s left of him to you – the last of his Force power to heal you.

-------

Mando finishes placing the rocks over Kuiil’s grave and boards the Razor Crest. He flies the ship towards the city, setting it down on the outskirts of the battle ridden stone and black lava sand city.

He opens the ramp and looks down at the kid, “stay here.”

The kid coos loudly.

“I will get her.” Mando pauses, “stay here.”

The kid seems to pout as it looks down then turns away.

Mando walks down the cargo ramp and into the quiet city. He sees your body lying on the ground and runs over to you. He gathers you in his arms and cradles you against his armor.

“No!” Mando shouts. “Y/N!?”

A gloved hand cups your cheek, runs down your chest.

Mando notices the broken beskar metal, notices the cut and wound on your skin. Mando feels at it. The wound is tender and the blood around it is dry.

“I’m sorry,” Mando cries as he pulls your body close to hers.

Footsteps are heard and Mando pulls his blaster. He sees the Armorer walking towards him.

The Armorer stops and looks down. “She’s there Mando. She’s hanging on. You should take her and leave.”

“She’s dead.”

“She isn’t. You can pull her back to here. Take her and go.”

Mando stands with you in his arms, begins walking towards the Razor Crest.

The Armorer walks ahead of him and stops him. She has a lightsaber in her hand. “She’ll need this. Save it for her.”

Mando looks between the lightsaber and the Armorer. He senses the other Mandalorian knows something about you but pushes it aside. He grabs the lightsaber and nods.

Mando walks aboard the Razor Crest and places you down in the bunk. He then grabs the kid and places him next you. “Watch her.”

The kid coos as Mando closes the cargo ramp, then Mando climbs up to the cockpit. He flies away from Nevarro, setting course for Endor.

Mando returns down to the cargo bay and sits by your side on the bunk. He strokes your cheeks then takes off his helmet.

“Come back to me Y/N,” Din whispers before placing his lips against yours.

-------

You feel light like a feather as you walk through a blinding light. You shield your eyes and once you are through, the light is gone and you are standing alone in the temple on Mandalore. At the altar is standing a Mandalorian, not your Mandalorian though.

Death definitely is a Mandalorian, you think as you walk slowly towards the altar.

You look down at your body. You are dressed in a floor sweeping white gown. You lift the ends up and notice you are barefoot. You notice your arms are bare from clothing, but your shriek-hawk tattoo is vibrant as ever, it seems to glimmer under the blue crystal glass which now has sunrays seeping through it, giving off a kaleidoscope of color.

“Y/N,” you spin around at the sound of your Mandalorian’s voice. No one’s there.

You face the altar and the Mandalorian is now gone. You are alone in the temple, alone in the kaleidoscope of color in the Heavens. You spin around, you feel happy. You feel at peace. You feel free then you feel lips pressing against your mouth and close your eyes. You open them again and your Mando is kissing you. You reach up and run your hand through his hair.

He pulls back and looks at you. He smiles, cupping your cheek. “Y/N.”

“Din,” you whisper.

You look around and realize you are on the Razor Crest. The green bean is on the other side of you, looking between you and Din. You see the signet on Din’s armor. “Mudhorn?”

“The kid helped me defeat one months ago. It was after I ran into you on Kashyyyk.” Din pauses. “The kid and I, a clan of two.” Din smiles, traces your lips. “You make us a clan of three.”

 Two months later

 “All negative,” Kath says as she turns to you.

You are sitting in the med bay of the bunker. Just the two of you.

“Are you okay?” Kath asks with concern.

You nod. You’re unsure to be happy or sad. You aren’t pregnant. “Then why did my father think…,” you mumble out.

“I don’t know Y/N. Maybe he sensed eventually you’d have a child. I don’t know how your Force powers work. You once told me it could vary from one to another.”

You wipe away a few tears. Part of you had been ready, been preparing yourself to hear you were pregnant – mainly because you knew Din would be a wonderful father, you on the other hand would be a nervous wreck, but you and Din would be raising the child together.

“Thanks Kath,” you say before heading out of the med bay.

You walk through the bunker and out into the mild air on Endor. Your Mando is standing watch over the foundlings and the green bean in his full armored uniform and helmet. You approach Din and wrap your arm around him. He looks down at you as he wraps his arms around you. He presses his helmet against your head, “I love you.”

You smile. “I love you too.”

You are happy, at peace. You sear this moment into your memory.

Minutes later Kath comes running from behind you and stands in front of you and Din.

You raise your eyebrows. “What?”

“Gideon,” Kath pants, “Gideon is alive.” 

Tags: @cosmo-bear​, @holyground1996​, @pascalisthepunkest​

[peter-pantomime]

IT Fic Recs

Richie/Eddie

the years go by like days

It’s Eddie he wants to get a hold of, though, and he does, tucking him under his arm, and ruffling his hair, making him laugh. He’s startled when Eddie looks at him with such happy, shining eyes. And, for a split-second, he’s tempted to kiss him right then, right there in front of everyone.

He wants to. Badly. He doesn’t.

He leans in, instead, and he smacks a loud, wet kiss to Eddie’s cheek, punctuating it with a “mwah!” He does it again and again. “I’m so proud of my little Eds Spagheds!”

“Get off me!” Eddie says, laughing and shoving him away, swatting at his hands.

AU. in the 27 years in-between, Richie and Eddie forget a lot, but they don't forget each other.

just be still with me

Eddie Kaspbrak is 38, working as a driver in New York. Richie Tozier is a stand up comic who comes to New York on a one way ticket to audition for SNL, and his agent has hired Eddie as his driver. There's something familiar about Richie, though Eddie knows they've never met. While Richie insists on sitting in the front seat and making something more than small talk, Eddie struggles to maintain professional distance.

Basically - what if Eddie and Richie did forget, and didn't see each other for 25 years, but they fell in love anyways.

If You Believe

What if Eddie held on just a little bit longer? What if the losers figured out how to kill it just a little bit earlier? What if Eddie made it out of Neibolt, injured and barely holding on, but alive?

-

When Eddie emerges from the cavern to see Richie floating, he just about shits himself.

hit me baby one more time

Richie reaches up a shaking hand and puts it on Eddie’s stomach.

“Uhhh,” Eddie says. “Is this a bit? Is this a really inopportune bit? ‘Cause I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Richie, but this is kind of an important moment-”

“What the fuck,” Richie says, not for the first or last time, and lurches forwards to hug him.

(Or, Richie gets stuck in a time loop.)

in the morning

Beverly knows there’s something going on with Richie. The way he had lost it, the way he had cried—she’s not sure if he would ever cry like that for her, or Bill, or even Stan. He had always been particular about Eddie. She pets his hair back again and rests her head on top of his, sighing and closing her eyes. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s more than she thinks. Either way, she’s sure he’ll say eventually. Richie’s never been good at keeping secrets.

This Is the Way It Ends

An AU in which everything is the same, except Reddie disappear to have sex through most of the plot points and Eddie doesn't have to die to save the day.

Love Me Like You Do

“I need you hear you say it.”

“I want it,” Eddie says back. He’s surprised by his own words, how concrete they sound, how they break through the wall of nerves that’s shrouded over him.

Richie, in all of his confident-not-confidence, leans down and kisses Eddie. It’s gentle at first, the rough chap of his lips barely grazes Eddie’s over moisturized ones but the electricity rockets down his spine and bursts into tiny electrodes all over his body. He immediately leans up, chases Richie’s retreating form and captures him in a kiss that Eddie never knew he was capable of giving.

Men of Fall

Do you remember? He watches his own hand slide closer along the armrest. Do memories transfer by touch, in this fucked up magic town? Remember, Richie, please, and tell me I wasn’t imagining things.

put it all aside and hold me tight

"I'm not sad," he lies. He thinks of how his hands had trembled after he'd gotten the phone call from Mike, the foul taste of bourbon and breath mints and his own bile in his throat. Every morning he's alone, even when he isn't. He isn't afraid, except for when he is. And he isn't sad, not really, but he is.

Not that it's any of Eddie's business.

Eddie's gaze feels like it goes right through him. There's little Richie hates more than being read, especially when it's by Eddie — there's always a split second of bone-deep terror that whispers he knows. It's familiar, something that goes way back to childhood. Still just as shit-your-pants terrifying.

Or: After the reunion dinner from hell, Richie and Eddie have a long overdue conversation about, like, feelings and shit.

up off the floor

"In a world where we can kill a fucking clown from space, Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t get to die from a stab wound."

still it’s so

Beverly screamed when she saw them. Then she covered her mouth with her hands and just stared, tears standing bright in her eyes. Bill stood up so fast his armchair jumped back, and beside him Mike did the same. Ben got up slower, a painfully hopeful look on his face.

“Surprise!” Richie said. “We lived!”

Things that Happen after Eddie Lives

In a world where Richie manages to save Eddie from It after the deadlights, they still have problems on their to-do list. Featuring everything from Derry to Los Angeles—Richie Tozier's murder trial, Eddie Kaspbrak's divorce proceedings, bedsharing of the platonic and non-platonic varieties, an investigation of magic, a truly disgusting séance, the quintessential morosexual road trip, and OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES.

swallow your heart

When he’s 24, at least once per night, Richie has what he would describe as an erotic nightmare. He never actually has sex in these dreams, nor does he die or even get seriously maimed. But they’re still definitely erotic, and they’re definitely nightmares.

Prompt: "I swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth."

With a boulder on my shoulder

Feelin' kinda older.

Or, Eddie Kaspbrak has his fifteenth birthday party.

we’ve been migratory animals

As they reach the town limits, he sees the sign up ahead: You are now leaving Derry. A thrill shudders through him — they’re out. Things will be different now, no more deadlight-visions swallowing him up inside. Richie rolls down his window, and before anyone can do more than look at him quizzically, he unbuckles his seatbelt, lifts himself up out of his seat somewhat, and leans out the window to flip the sign off. “Fuck you!” he bellows. The wind whips his hair into his eyes, and he lets out a slightly manic laugh. Then he feels hands grabbing at his shirt, and Eddie is yanking him back into the car.

--

Or, the Losers take a road trip to Florida, and Richie's having nightmares from the deadlights that he can't seem to shake.

if the children don’t grow up

Richie Tozier dreams, sometimes, of heat soaking through the soles of his sneakers from the July tarmac in the town where he grew up, the name of which he can’t quite remember when he’s awake, and of someone small and warm and familiar pressed up against him everywhere.

(Some scenes from a life – Richie and Eddie at 40 and at 13 (and beyond) and at 40 again.)

Richie Tozier Versus The Flu

“His parents don’t take care of him,” Eddie had told Bill, shaking his head, “He’s probably holed up in his room with a flop sweat, and neither of his parents have ever been bothered to help him. We should go see him.”

“G-Go see him?” Bill asked, alarmed, “I d-don’t mind, b-b-but I thought you’d n-never -”

“He’s sick! Richie’s sick, Bill,” Eddie insisted, thinking Bill was not nearly as upset as he ought to be, “Richie’s sick, and no one’s gonna take care of him, if we don’t.”

last ones out

Richie wonders if it’s always been this hard for him to touch Eddie. It hasn’t; they were incredibly touchy as kids, falling all over each other, gangly limbs intertwined. Even as adults, a few days before, Richie had barely been able to keep his hands off of him. Eddie almost dying did something, though. Chipped away at something deep within Richie. From the bed, Eddie laughs.

Talk So Pretty (And Love So Sweet)

Eddie was going to kill him one day, in his lace and crop tops and knee high socks.

Let’s Hear It for the Boy

“Oh, before I forget- keep this one.”

He pulled a tape from his bag that he hadn’t played yet, and Eddie took it with a look of distrust on his face. It had his name scrawled across the label in Richie’s awful handwriting- looked more like it said Edota on it- but the thing that caught his attention was the very obviously scribbled out heart in front of his name.

“Welp,” He snapped his gum again. “I gotta go. See you later, babe. If you miss me when I’m gone, just listen to the tape. Plenty of gushy shit on there.”

June

He can’t handle being alone with Eddie anymore.

He squats next to Eddie, brings their faces close, and he looks at the freckles on Eddie’s cheeks, the familiar chestnut hair perfectly quaffed at his fringe, how long, and thick his eyelashes seem against his sunburnt cheeks.

He wants.

Desperately.

Blood Runs Cold

He wants to say the feeling in his gut is foreign, but the truth is it’s been flowering for years, vines twisting and growing in the pit of his stomach, just waiting for him to open his mouth so they can finally see the sun.

(or a short fic about Richie Coming out to Bevvie while they smoke in his room)

Show Me a Good Time

This wasn’t the first time that Richie had brought Eddie to one of his meetings. Meetings, used very loosely, meaning they were at a restaurant with however many Michelin stars, while his agent talked to him and whoever else decided to show up to the dinner. There were currently about eight of them, Eddie and Richie shoved into the corner of a booth, while someone told a story about their latest stent on tour. Lucky for Richie, the story actually happened to be good, because if not, well, they might have seen just how often Eddie was leaning over to whisper in his ear.

we’re f***ing killing it, babe

Richie has been back in Derry for three days and murdered an Eldritch horror-esque monster from space or possibly from some weird meta-verse, who knows, and faced both of his childhood fears of clowns and his own death, as well as the possibility of losing his first love just as he remembered they fucking existed, he’d like some slack cut for him on the emotional front, thank you!

OR

Eddie is dead, but the Losers carry him out of the house on Neibolt anyway. Which is good, because Eddie is not dead.

Roads

Richie pulls out of the Orient parking lot first, and stares at the headlights of Eddie’s car in his rearview mirror.

The drive back to The Derry Townhouse is short, scary, and not well lit.

“It’s just Eddie,” he tells his reflection, trying to give himself a pep talk, but that’s the problem.

It’s Eddie.

Lakes

Ben holds Bev’s hand as they walk. Richie feels sick with grief, staggering along behind them, carrying Eddie’s dead, heavy body on his back.

Intro // Skydiving

Eddie Kaspbrak is ten years old. It's his first time at the quarry with his friends.

--

The descent feels like it lasts both for a few seconds and for eternity. Free fall is terrifying, but his hand is still latched onto Richie's, and it tethers him, makes him feel like he isn't just lost in space.

soul, I hear you calling

He catches a glimpse of himself, bruise-eyed and unshaven, in the bathroom mirror as he turns to leave, and that's when he sees Eddie Kaspbrak.

"At least wash your hands, you nasty fuck," Eddie says.

"Holy fucking shit," Richie screams.

Eddie comes back, sort of.

[thattimdrakeguy]

Bendis has gone from one of my secretly favorite writers to one of my least favorite. Like not only has he made the last so many issues of Young Justice contain some of the most bare bones writing, not only has he made some of the most un-logical decisions of Tim’s fictional life (which is jaw dropping), but he also can’t write Damian worth a damn. He showed he couldn’t get more then two things right about him in 6 pages.

Like I’ve already made it clear that I think Damian’s writing for a while now has just been horrid even if no one talks about it, but just ... no, Bendis, no. Bendis can’t even get one of the simplest trademarks of Damian right.

Damian has a very particular way of speaking, it’s something that even fan fic writers can get right, but just, right away Bendis has him say “Yo”, like, it’s so nitpicky, but it’s just such an obvious thing to avoid. Damian’s way of speaking is so straight forward and obvious, so so obvious. How does one get in the position to write a character in an official medium and get something so obvious and simple wrong?

Is it like on the application to be a DC writer “make sure you never read our character’s before”, because I keep reading current comics every now and again and I wonder.

Has Bendis ever read Damian before? It’s like he just had him described to him as he was dozing off, like, how can you be so bad at writing him? He makes him mean and snarky, but like, come oooon, stop being a parody of bad writing. Why is everything with you lately so bare bones and awful?

Damian would not have a card collection, you absolute dolt.

I’m plenty aware that other writers act like he’s a normal kid and crap, but those writers are absolute crap too. You don’t choose the bad writers to be your inspiration.

Do you know a single thing about what you’re writing?

Why are you writing something you clearly don’t understand?

Damian is such a simple and specific character, it should not be this hard to get more than only two things right with him. 

You couldn’t get the simplest things right with him.

These are such small things, but it’s blowing my mind how reoccurring these things constantly happen.

Even the artist, I love David LeFuente so much, like he’s one of my favorite artists, and I love his Tim and all that, but like, why doe he choose to draw some of the characters so weird?

I love the way he draws Jon, but why does Jon look older then how he drew Conner? They’re the same age currently aren’t they? Conner’s like a young adult now by the way they act. Very late high school years at the very least since they don’t actually specify how long he’s been in Gemworld. So why does Conner look about 4 years younger then his Jon when if anything he’d be older? Like Lefuente’s Conner didn’t look like Conner at all. How did he make Conner look younger than Jon?

And why does Damian look 5? I know a lot of artist struggle to draw younger kids, but why do they constantly get artists that seem like they never seen a 13 year old to draw Damian. It cannot be that hard to have an artist that knows what a 13 year old looks like to draw Damian. There has to be at least one person that can do that. DC, just hire a guy that can draw a 13 year old, to draw your 13 year old character, please. If they’re going to draw them, that should be one of the requirements, you know, actually being able to draw them.

Like why is it so hard to find artists that can draw Tim and Damian? Neither one of them has an easy time finding creative teams that get them. It seems like both of those guys have such struggles finding artists and writers that seem like they actually know what they look like and act like.

Even the language used to describe the issue feels off “These two best buds”, like I don’t make it a secret Super Sons is garbage, and the whole progression of their relationship when it became a thing is some of the worst I’ve ever seen in any comic ever, but like, DC clearly loves them, Didio has said so, and it’s no surprise DC can’t even get what they love right, but “two best buds” doesn’t sound like it’s referring to a thing describing Damian.

It’s another nitpick, but it’s another that’s like, so easy to avoid, because it’s like “oh hey maybe this doesn’t sound like it’s referring to a Damian thing, maybe we should change it. Like it’s so simple, so freaking simple. It’s not a big deal at all in the big run, but something that takes a literal nanosecond to realize is off isn’t that hard to fix. It’s so simple, so genuinely simple, and they got it wrong. All these things they’re getting wrong just keep adding up to the point it’s becoming parody-level’s of stupid it keeps happening.

DC is so inadequate at such basic things at this stage in the game. Even describing things to fit what they’re describing is becoming hard for them. Damian is not a character you describe like he’s a bro or something, it’s not that hard.

Damian is not that hard of a character to get right at all. He’s genuinely very simple. If you never seen him in your entire life. It would take like 3 to 4 issues to understand his character. How he acts, what his thought processes are like, and his life style, but somehow they keep messing that up.

I want Damian to be in a comic that actually knows what to do with him so badly. Like I’m so sick of every comic he’s in getting the most simplest yet obvious things wrong with him.

A big flaw of this specifically, is just how much Super Sons doesn’t work as a concept. It’s very superficial why people want them together, and yet somehow the way they put it together doesn’t work even worse. They have to ignore a lot of obvious stuff to make it even be a thing, which is exactly what they did, so anything involving them is right away so forced that it’s gut-wrenchingly distracting.

But it’s like stuff like this, with the smallest details, just sort of represents a lot about DC, and I think this is why it’s bugging me so much. The amount of obvious stuff they get wrong or at least off is becoming more grating to me.

DC has a massive habit of avoiding the most obvious simple stuff, to instead make a crap load of dumb ideas in.

In this case it’s super small, like a few choices of words, but at this stage it’s just slaps in the face. Get one freaking thing right.

You some how think Tim would change his name just like that, which is just stupid.

You forget almost everything about Damian’s character to put him in places he doesn’t belong.

You think Batman would beat up his kids. His parents died when he was a kid, that happened, but he didn’t become Batman because he was a psychopath, he became Batman to avoid crimes like that happening. That’s the very DNA basic level of Batman, and you got it wrong multiple times in the past few years, and he is your most popular character. You can’t get the basics of your most popular character in Batman right.

And you seem to think doing everything people don’t want is going to get you sales, when after a while people are just gonna leave.

You cannot get the simplest of things right, obvious, simple things, that take a nanosecond of thought, and you get them wrong.

A character that never wanted to stop being Robin like Tim, probably isn’t going to randomly change his identity to match a person that just tried to kill him like how you’re acting. It should take no thought at all to realize that’s a very dumb idea, but you seem to be doing it when you probably shouldn’t.

A character who became a crime fighter to stop crimes, probably isn’t going to beat the crap out of his kids for doing nothing wrong. He didn’t even try to find out if Jason did something, he just assumed without doing any detective work, and he’s a detective. He hit Tim in the face so hard he fell to the ground because Tim wanted to help him. That’s so stupid. I don’t care if Batman’s being mentally tortured by Bane during that last bit, the very basic morals of Batman would probably kick in considering it’s like no one’s ever tried to mentally torture him before. I’m pretty sure hitting a kid in the face isn’t gonna be his first thought when all the kid did was try to help him.

These small minuscule things that they can’t get right. The people that do that are in charge of major things in a company that used to give people something to be happy about each month, are just like this. Even simple (most likely barely noticeable to most people things) things escape them.

Damian is more then just being a snarky, mean, dude.

I’m so unreasonably upset that they keep messing up this character in the simplest of ways.

They’ve already ruined the whole point of his character development, they ignore half the bad stuff he does almost like they purposely want to avoid character development, the very simple basics of his character they ignore to pander to a very easily amused audience, and it’s just tiring.

Damian is like that unmentioned horribly written character, and I think it’s because his arrival was that beginning of the end era of DC were all the crap we hate now started. Like his character ever showing up at all was ridiculous and I won’t pretend otherwise, but at least as an Elseworld’s character he had promise. 

Like because his character showed up in the beginning of the end, a lot of the fans that are still around care less and less about stuff, so no one comments on it. Compared to someone like Tim who been around since 1989, so when they got the smallest but most simplest of things wrong with him it got called out more. Plus, the somewhat surprisingly large amount of people that are that easily persuade by easy pandering praise some of the stuff, so other people assume nothing is wrong.

DC, please, just get writers and people in-charge that can actually think for more than a nanosecond.

Within 6 pages they already got the basic trademarks of a very simple character wrong, and couldn’t even realize that two measly words were bizarre choices. He is not a little kid bro-ing around with his school bestie. I know Super Sons probably did that, but because a comic did it, does not make it a good idea. That’s still completely ridiculous and out of character for Damian to do, seeing how he showed no interest until it suddenly happened. He is a stubborn, half-way anti-social character, he is not going to kidnap, terrify, threaten, and stalk a little kid, to then have the kid he did that to, mostly ignore all that and be okay with it, while no one barely does a thing about his behavior. They set those kids on a trip together. That makes no sense. I get Jon is a superhero with powers, but basic parenting says don’t force your kid to be around someone who would realistically traumatize them. Like, basically, it doesn’t work. At a molecular level, it does not work. Fiction that can be as fantastical as superhero comics is typically maintained by following human logic, or at least in the modern day of comics, but they just ignored that completely.

I don’t expect every writer ever to get everything right about every character, but they couldn’t even get the way he talks right. They couldn’t even realize that “hey, maybe he wouldn’t like this stuff”.

I’m so tired of Damian being reduced to tropes and archetypes that don’t fit, and seeing people actually cheer it on.

He’s not a normal kid, he’s never been shown to be interested in the stuff they act like until they suddenly acted like he was. 

He was a unique character that had stories that could’ve been told but instead people chanted for him to be one of those blood curdlingly generic characters ever.

He’s just a school bully type of character now with a secret heart of gold or something.

He was more then that, and he deserves to be more then that.

Why is the generic and simple being cheered on?

He stuck out like a sore thumb, and had unique stories that could’ve been told, but instead it seems like so many people just want him to be the most bland, generic excuse of a character ever because they find it cute or something.

To me, Damian should’ve never been made, at least not have been put into the main DC universe. I believe that his introduction broke a lot of the Bat-Family because of writers constantly making everyone out of character to try and make him work, when just letting characters react like how they would react would be much more interesting and unique. I think in the long run he was a very bad idea, BUT, if you’re going to do it, why are you constantly ruining the character that you soiled a lot of stuff for to begin with just like that? You can’t even care about that? 

You are a comic book company, your basic design should be to create characters and stories that entertain people. Your basic structure shouldn’t be to just bastardize the stuff you made when people were enjoying it.

Even the stuff you went out of your way to do and partially left a mess you later on just butchered.

How is a company that produces fiction run by people that can’t understand what’s in their own product?

I wouldn’t be nearly, even close to as upset as I am unreasonably so right now if this stuff didn’t keep happening. If this obviously avoidable stuff didn’t keep showing up. If this was one time weird thing then what ever, but this obvious stuff keeps happening, like no one knows why they’re writing what they are.

Like this isn’t about so much as Damian saying “yo” and implied to have a card collection, as it is me being upset that DC keeps getting the simplest things about their own characters wrong to such an extent that even the most bare bones obvious thing about a character is even being done wrong. They couldn’t even get how a character that talks very distinctly speaks right, they couldn’t even get their very straight forward and simple life style right.

I wish DC would just go bankrupt or something, because it’s so stupid that every comic I read there’s a bunch of ridiculous stupid garbage in it.

But OH HEY, NIGHTWING’S COMING BACK.

Tynion’s a bad writer, but he at least knows that maybe fans would like their favorite character to be called by their actual name. So I guess one of the dumbest decisions DC’s probably made ever is being undone, but the fact the decision was ever made to begin with is ridiculous.

[violetsmoak]

Tabula Rasa [1/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183281/chapters/47822500

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: Tim and Jason have known they are soulmates for years, though neither has said anything about it. Tim thinks Jason doesn't know, and is just trying to live with it. Jason thinks Tim knows but doesn't care, which is fine with him, he thinks the soulmate thing is a crock anyway. But one night, a minor mishap forces them to confront the issue head-on, leading to a series of events no one could have predicted.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #a lie #bright vivid colours #danger #enemies to lovers #soulmate aversion #soulmark tattoo

Canon-Compliance: Follows the New Earth continuity, with elements of New 52 (ie the ones that don’t completely contradict everything that happened pre-Flashpoint). Ignores Rebirth completely. So, up to about 2016 in terms of publication dates? Robins War happened, but Red Hood hasn’t met Artemis or Bizarro, and nothing bad has happened to Roy ffs! 

Beta Reader: I'll get back to you on that.

________________________________________________________________

“Three cheers for the happy couple!”

The south wing ballroom of Wayne Manor erupts with the raucous shouts and applause of a hundred and twenty reception attendees. Tim’s congratulations get lost in the din, but he does catch Dick’s eye and flash him a thumbs up.

Seated at the high table, his older brother leans in and kisses his bride, which causes more cheering and catcalls from the guests, and makes the normally unflappable and newly named Barbara Gordon-Grayson blush.

Tim turns away and pastes a smile on his face as the Davenports, a senior couple and two of Wayne Enterprises' most influential shareholders, approach him.

Time to be ‘on’ again…

A generous mix of family friends (most of whom are vigilantes or heroes), and GCPD officers, fill the ballroom. These are interspersed with a few Haly’s Circus performers, and the requisite number of elite guests required by the Society pages of the Gotham Gazette.

Bride and bridegroom sit at the head table with their respective entourages, engaged in animated chatter. Babs and her maid of honor Alysia dissolve into laughter as Dick says something to Damian, who scowls and turns redder by the minute. The Gordon family is there, the Commissioner conversing in stiff politeness with his ex-wife Barbara, and Bruce is in full “Brucie” mode. In the background, Alfred directs the hired staff with his usual decorum and efficiency.

Across the room, Cassandra drags Stephanie over to the dance floor. At a smaller round table near the bride and groom, Duke just misses being speared with a fork by his girlfriend when he tries to sneak a piece of Izzy’s cake. Helena flirts with both Luke and Kate and Tim’s sure Selina is somewhere in the house stealing something to lure Bruce over to her place later.

It’s rare to have so many members of the family together in one room, and so Tim does his best to ignore the lingering dismay at the glaring absence in their numbers.

Dick and Babs look at each other now and again, like they’re the only ones in the world, and he makes an effort to find it adorable. He bolsters the jovial front he’s been wearing all night, reminding himself that his happiness for his brother and new sister-in-law isn’t something that needs faking. It took so long for them to sort everything out between them; it goes to show that being soulmates doesn’t equal an automatic perfect relationship.

I know that better than anyone.

It’s just getting more difficult with every passing hour to maintain the graceful Timothy Drake-Wayne façade.

“It will be your turn next,” Mrs. Davenport informs him, while her husband nods along. “Since Richard and dear Cassandra have found their matches, you’re the only one left.”

Tim’s smile becomes a little more forced. “Well, there is Damian.”

The demon brat looks as if he swallowed a mouthful of peppercorns as Brucie leans over and ruffles his hair, laughing his raucous fake laugh.

Now I’m glad Dick didn’t ask me to be his best man, or I’d be the chump stuck up there.

Not that he was that upset when he heard the news.

Tim’s distanced himself enough from the loss of Robin to accept Damian needs as much help as they can offer if he is ever to be a ‘real boy’. Little gestures like this from Dick are part of a larger plan. And it was endearing, in a way, to see the kid stomping around in the weeks leading up to the wedding, trying to check off a list of best man duties he’d printed off the internet.

And dissolving into teenaged fury when innocent things went wrong or when the groom teased him by flouting what Damian considered ‘according to convention’.

And then there was that bachelor party he organized…

It would seem extreme trampoline parks were a thing; also, getting banned from said parks within an hour for trampolining while drunk was a thing.

“Yes, but he’s still so…young,” Mrs. Davenport says, bringing him back to the present. Tim perceives how she hesitates on the best word to describe the youngest member of the Wayne family.

“It’s fine, you can call him a prepubescent terror. I always do.”

“Oh, Timothy!” Garish laughter as if he told the most hilarious joke of the season. “You are such a character. Why haven’t you found your someone yet?”

Tim catches sight of Steph once again, dancing with Cass and looking carefree and blissful and in love. And this time it’s a bit harder to experience only joy for his siblings, more of a struggle to fight the pang of hurt and jealousy that rears its head.

“You’re almost eighteen,” her husband remarks, interrupting his thoughts. “Most people find their matches much younger. Eleanor and I met when we were fourteen.”

“Oh, it was a beautiful summer in the Hamptons.”

“And it seems like youth today are finding each other earlier every year.”

“My sister and Stephanie didn’t,” Tim points out, only somewhat strained because that one still stings.

He and Steph had been together for most of their teenage years. She hadn’t possessed a soulmark, and Tim’s…would lead nowhere. He truly loved her, and if things were different, he knows they would have had a happy future. Lots of people whose marks don’t match are.

But then the day Spoiler and Black Bat met, they’d shaken hands, and everything fell into place. He’ll never forget either of their eyes—Steph bemused as her mark appeared for the first time and then exploded into color across her forearms; Cass puzzled until she realized what was happening. Then her face became an open book of joy rivaled only by how she looked when Bruce told her he intended to adopt her.

Faced with their happiness, it was only natural that Tim took a step back, much as it hurt to do.

“Perhaps your soulmate lives in another country,” Mr. Davenport suggests; it is clear he is not picking up on Tim’s reluctance.

“Oh!” his wife cries. “You should go on that television show they have now! You know, the one where they try to help you track down your match? I can’t remember the name, but it’s something like The Amazing Race or the Bachelorette.”

“Perhaps yours is younger than you. That happens sometimes.”

“Yes! May-December relationships aren’t that uncommon with your generation, I hear.”

“Or maybe they’re dead,” Tim suggests, and though his tone is light and friendly, his words shut them up in an instant.

Because if very well could be true.

Tim’s never shown off his mark in public, and he told Steph that exact story when she asked all those years ago. At the time, he wasn’t even lying.

Soulmarks develop around puberty and last the duration of the lifespan of the shorter-lived partner. Some people are born with several, the way Dick was, and some only share platonic or familial bonds, like Alfred and Bruce. Others have none at all. When a soulmate dies, the mark associated with them vanishes.

That’s because most don’t come back from the dead.

Still smiling at the now cringing couple, Tim takes his leave, letting them stew in their faux pas as he wanders toward the bride and groom’s table. He’s reached his limit.

Not wanting to crouch down in the middle of their group, he gestures until his brother sees him and makes an excuse to Babs. She’s following his gaze, offering Tim a worried look, but he smiles and shakes his head, trying to telegraph ‘It’s nothing. Go back to your celebration.’

Dick is red-faced and his eyes brighter than usual when he gets to Tim; people been plying him with generous amounts of alcohol all day. “Hey, Timmy, what’s up?”

“I think I‘ll make my way out,” he replies. “Do a bit of patrolling and then turn in.”

“Tim…”

Dick’s expression becomes concerned, and Tim shifts in discomfort.

“Someone has to be on the streets while you guys are slacking,” he jokes. “You know it took an Act of Alfred to get Bruce to take the night off, right?”

(It was also pointed out that if any of big players had planned anything tonight, probability and precedent suggested they would try it at the Gordon-Grayson reception.)

“You don’t have to do that! I’ve already got one brother missing.”

“Consider this my wedding present. You get to stay and enjoy your party with the rest of the family.”

“You’re just trying to worm your way of giving us a real gift,” Dick accuses, but the words lack malice. With a surreptitious glance around to ensure they aren’t being overheard, he lowers his voice and asks, “Are things getting bad again? Do you need to talk? Because Babs won’t mind if I duck out for a bit.”

And he’s always doing this, checking in with Tim, even years after it’s been an issue.

There’s a distinct possibility Dick has noticed how uncomfortable the atmosphere is making him, despite him doing his utmost to hide it, to keep from casting a dark cloud over the festivities.

And Tim should be okay.

Bruce is back from having lost his memories, Damian’s stopped his determined attempts to sabotage or kill him, his relationship with Dick is almost normal again, he has his team and place with the Titans, and there hasn’t been a major crisis in Gotham for about a month which is a record.

Yet he still feels raw and exposed, ill at ease in his skin.

Bruce has been questioning him a lot more, criticizing the way he handles not only cases but projects at WE. Tim worries there’s less time for him to recover between being Tim Wayne, CEO, and Red Robin. And the Titans are getting to the age where many of them want to strike out on their own or pursue more civilian interests—jobs and schools and a normal life. He respects that, even if he doesn’t understand it.

He has never had a normal life, and never will.

But he does have more and more days now where he looks at himself in the mirror and wonders how he’s supposed to keep doing this forever. Can’t figure out how Bruce has managed it for so long. Tim suspects he’s becoming little more than his daytime public persona and his nighttime alter ego.

Who exactly is Tim Drake?

Instead of voicing any of this, though, he musters up a comforting smile for his brother and assures him, “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s like every day. Just one step at a time, right?”

Dick’s expression clears then, and he nods, relieved. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“And Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“Congrats.”

“Aw, thanks, Timmy.”

A bone-crushing hug later, and Tim’s car peels out of the estate parking garage, still ignoring the growing pit in his stomach.

He returns to his apartment in the Theater District, shedding his suit and tie in a pile that Alfred would have a coronary over if he were there to see it. Jumping in the shower, he scrubs himself of any traces of his cologne or other identifying scents he might have picked up at the reception and tries to get himself back into a clearer headspace.

He pauses for a moment at the sink, trying to shake off the lingering, bone-deep exhaustion. Several prescription bottles line the mirror—various sleeping aids, most of which don’t help anymore (but the rebound insomnia of stopping them isn’t worth the trouble). These days it’s only the heavy-duty sleep narcotics that work when he needs to turn his brain off for a few hours.

Among the personal pharmacy are several combinations of anti-depressants he tried in the past few months. Most of the time he powers through it, the way he’s done his whole life, but in recent weeks Tim’s noticed things getting hard again. The helpful alerts he sets on his phone don’t always convince him to leave his bed and even video games lack the usual draw. He sometimes gets lost in his head for hours; on bad nights, he hesitates a second longer before shooting a grapple line or dodging a knife. In rare moments, he considers his sleeping pills a little too much consideration, at which point he calls Dick or Connor. Talks to someone so he isn’t so alone.

As he dries off, Tim stares down at his right wrist, examining the complicated knotwork design emblazoned there. Swirls of crimson and gold loop in and out of each other, before cutting off along his forearm.

Everyone has a soulmark, an arrangement of swirling shapes across their skin; each is distinctive to the individuals bonded by them. They first appear when a person is in the general vicinity of their soulmate, manifesting as a colorless pattern of darker and lighter shades of melanin. Those patterns fill with bright, rich colors upon physical touching one’s mate. When pressed together, they interlock in only one way and retreat when contact stops.

Soulmates who have reciprocated bonds sport their marks in full and everlasting display. The sight is both beautiful and frustrating to see, even on his family, as he’ll never experience that himself.

His mark might be a stunning amalgamation of scarlet and gold, twisted into a mandala upon his wrist, but it will never be permanent. While it’s been a while since Jason’s made any energetic attempts to kill him, Tim’s resigned himself to living without a completed bond; tolerance is about the only thing he can hope for from his predecessor.

Finding Steph when they were younger had been a joy and a relief. Her not having a mark meant they both had a chance for a fulfilling connection. Until Cass.

Tim forces himself to stop dwelling on it and shoves the bleak thoughts down behind the wall he puts everything uncomfortable and not cohesive to whatever task he’s given himself. Instead, he busies himself with covering up his mark using the spray-on cover that doesn’t fade with water or perspiration, only coming off when scrubbed with a special soap. One of Bruce’s earliest and more practical inventions, since Brucie Wayne and Batman couldn’t have a soulmark in common.

Bruce covers his pretty much all the time, but Tim’s only been covering his when he suits up. He lives his life in disguise, he doesn’t want to hide such an important part of himself when he’s off the clock.

He heads down to the lower levels of his Nest, gets dressed while having the computer scan for trouble. The program calculates probabilities for where violence will crop up, where he should begin his patrol. He hopes for a busy night, something to distract him from his convoluted thoughts.

As usual, he intends to start his rounds off in Tricorner, and then go through Chinatown—which is when he notices movement on a camera that concerns him.

A familiar gleaming scarlet helmet.

Red Hood.

He debates with himself for several minutes.

On the one hand, it’s his regular patrol territory; on the other, seeing the other vigilante tonight, while his mood is already so low, isn’t something he wishes to contend with.

He clenches his fist.

He knew of Jason Todd for a year before discovering the second Robin was his soulmate. By the time he wanted to do anything about it, the older boy was dead, and Tim consigned to grieving in secret.

Then Jason came back, but it was almost worse than him being gone because he hated him. Without having ever met him.

Even now that he’s mellowed out (sort of), Jason appears to reserve more dislike for his successor than anyone else in the family, not counting Bruce and Dick for obvious reasons. Red Hood and Red Robin have run into each other enough in and out of costume that there have been ample opportunities for Jason’s soulmark to make itself known. That Tim has seen nothing close to resembling it means one of two things: either the other man hasn’t developed his mark yet, which is possible albeit rare, or he has, and like Batman, always keeps it covered.

Which says more than enough about his sentiments on the matter.

Between Jason refusing to acknowledge their connection, or just not being aware of it, Tim prefers to believe the latter, if only to make himself feel better. There’s no point in bringing up the soulmate thing at this juncture. He decided years ago to respect the status quo, for the simple reason it’s less painful than the alternative.

All that being said, he doesn’t enjoy watching Jason get in trouble, even more so when the situation is avoidable and he’s near enough to help. At the moment the big idiot is courting a potential gang war.

Sometimes protecting someone means protecting them from themselves and their bad choices, I guess.

Static crackles through the comm in his ear, and then he hears Batman’s low growl. “What’s going on in Chinatown?”

“Why am I not surprised you’re still listening to the comms at your son’s wedding,” Tim sighs. “Nothing. I’m handling it.”

“Are you sure?”

“B, I’ll help A drug you every day for a week,” he threatens. “And you know we both can and will find new and interesting ways of doing it.”

There’s a huff on the other side of the line. “…Noted. Reach out if you need backup.”

“You’ll be the first.”

“You’re lying.”

“Wow, you must be a detective or something,” he deadpans. “Red Robin out.”

Jason is the last person he wants to run into right now, but Tim’s also been cultivating a few informants there and he can’t have that jeopardized.

Looks like I’m going to Chinatown. Hope Lynx is in a good mood…

He wonders if tonight he’ll end up getting beaten up, or just insulted. He’s not even sure which would hurt more.

⁂

Jason goes flying out of the upper story of the restaurant, followed closely by a very tiny woman wielding a very big sword. She reminds him of Cheshire, with a shade less lethality.

Actually, if it were Jade, he would end up critically injured when she lands on him, using him as a cushion against the pavement. He manages to turn his body to land in a way that won’t break his back—though his right side will be a giant bruise tomorrow—and scrambles to his feet.

This is one of the reasons I avoid Chinatown.

Things never go well for him here, especially not since that thing with the Su family. It’s just better to avoid the place. But before that, he and the Ghost Dragons at least used to get along—professional courtesy and all that, along with an unspoken agreement not to step on each other’s toes. 

That’s over, apparently.

All he’d wanted to do was ask some questions. One of his stool pigeons passed him some information on a human trafficking ring; according to him, it was based on Chinatown. It would seem sex slavers were luring young women over to the United States with the premise of work and accommodations.  Then, upon arrival, the girls were hauled into a life of sexual servitude.

Jason didn’t even go in guns blazing this time or wearing the helmet. Just a domino and a hankering for some barbecue pork bun.

So, either someone tipped them off what I was coming around for, or this kid in the mask has something to prove.

There’s a slow curl of heat moving up the back of his left wrist and up his arm, and his first thought is he’s been cut. Except while the sensation is familiar, it isn’t the liquid warmth of blood.

The woman moves fast, and a beat later her sword is swinging downward. Jason’s hands fly to his holsters, thinking he’s going to have to break out the guns after all when there’s a clang.

Suddenly there’s a bō staff in front of his face, catching the sword inches before it slams into Jason’s nose.

Ah. And there’s the other reason I avoid Chinatown.

Because in the past year or so, it’s been part of the patrol route for a certain Timothy Drake.

A.k.a. his replacement.

A.k.a. Red Robin.

A.k.a. his soulmate.

No wonder that warmth in his hand was familiar; the soulmark must have reacted to the younger man’s approach.

After a brief tussle, there’s the sound of a grapple line firing, and then Tim flies upward, ridiculous cape fluttering, still holding the struggling woman.

Her sword stays on the ground.

“Oh, hell no,” Jason growls, because this is his business, damn it!

When he reaches the roof where Tim’s carried off Jason’s would-be-murderer, he notes they are standing close together, conversing in rapid Cantonese. Jason’s rustier at that than he’d like, but he gets the gist when the woman stalks right up to him and begins yelling and gesturing.

Then she shoves him and pushes away; a smoke bomb goes off, and then she’s gone.

Tim makes no move to go after her.

Which, seriously?

Jason stalks over, looming over the shorter man and touching his hand to the still holstered gun in his belt in an implicit (and mostly baseless) threat. He’s always amused at just how much of a height difference there is between him and his replacement, and tonight he makes a point of lording it over him.

“You guys looked awfully cozy there, Timbers.” Which shouldn’t bother him, but he can’t fight a twinge of irritation. “Care to share with the class what your little tête-à-tête was about?”

The cowl covers Tim’s face, but Jason can imagine the judgemental stare.

“She said your poking around her territory will jeopardize her investigation into the sex traffickers.”

“Her investigation? She’s the damn head of the Ghost Dragons!”

“Yeah, and she’s also an undercover operative sent by Hong Kong PD, which I’m only telling you, so you don’t decide to go and kill her for apparent crimes.”

And that was not what he was expecting.

“How do you know this?”

“She told me. She’s one of my CIs.”

“And you believed her?”

“Cass looked into her for me. She’s legit, even if she’s a little…unorthodox.” Tim’s head tilts to one side, considering; with the cowl it makes him look like his avian namesake. “You’d think you’d appreciate that.”

“On the list of things I don’t appreciate, you showin’ up while I’m chasin’ a lead is one of them,” Jason growls. “Don’t you have a party to be at?”

“I ducked out early.”

“Well, that’s lame.”

“Not as lame as someone who ignores the fifteen invitations he was sent.”

Ah, and now they’re back on familiar ground.

“Pfft, I’ve seen enough Brucie to last me several lifetimes.”

“Yeah, but it was for Dick. All you had to do was show up—” his mouth twitches here; Jason can’t tell if it’s amusement or irritation, “—in jeans, even.”

“I’ve been dead once; I don’t need Alfie murderin’ me for that big a faux pas. And somehow I doubt Barbie would appreciate if her wedding photos included Dickiebird sporting a swollen eye.”

Tim sighs. “What are you fighting about this time?”

“Other than the usual stuff? We’re not. But I’m sure he’d put his foot in it at some point and need a nice bit of cognitive recalibration.”

“And you, the perfectly innocent party in all this, would happily provide that?”

“Call it a civic duty.”

Tim shakes his head, but Jason thinks it’s done in amusement this time, instead of exasperation.

“I don’t know how she can settle for that birdbrain,” he continues. “How does she stand bein’ around him so often without wantin’ to punch him in the face every time he opens his mouth?”

“Maybe not every time.”

“Point still stands.”

“Well, they’re soulmates,” Tim says vaguely, distant like he’s not paying attention to what he’s saying. He fiddles with his wrist computer, giving no indication that he is aware of anything else.

Jason’s pretty sure that’s not the case.

After all, he’s practiced in the art of pretending not to feel how his soulmark warms the closer he stands to Tim. There’s no question Tim’s learned to do the same.

It might be hypocritical of him, but that makes him angry somehow.

“As if that explains it all,” Jason sneers. “Come on, Replacement, I thought out of all of them, your whole logical-scientific-question-everything-Klingon-mind wouldn’t go for that hokey soulmate crap.”

“Vulcan.”

That brings him up short. “What?”

“It’s Vulcan culture that’s more focussed on logicality and empirical data-gathering. Klingons are more combat-oriented and tend toward more aggressive means of…” He trails off when he realizes Jason staring at him. “What?”

“You complete nerd,” Jason tells him. “No wonder you left the wedding early. I bet socializin’ with normal people probably stressed you right the fuck out, didn’t it?”

Tim gives a noncommittal shrug.

“Havin’ a soulmate doesn’t mean people should be together,” Jason goes on, filled with the sudden need to hammer home this point. “Look at all the examples from history—Cleopatra and Antony, Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Bonnie and Clyde—” He ticks the couples off his finger. “They were all soulmates and they all either made each other miserable or got each other killed.”

“You can’t apply a few historical anomalies to every soulmate pair,” Tim counters. “Life circumstances skew the data.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that fate shouldn’t decide if people will magically work out!”

“That’s not…” Tim appears frustrated, at last, putting down his wrist computer and clenching his jaw. “It’s not supposed to work out magically. It’s about finding the person who completes you. You still need to work at it. It’s not all magically going to fall in place, and you’ll be happy forever right away. Even soulmates don’t get to live perfect lives.”

Ain’t that the truth, Jason muses, considering Tim.

“Sounds like you want a soulmate,” he points out, a little stiffly, and what the hell possessed him to say that?

He wonders what the kid is going to say now, or if this is the day their careful pretense, the lie of not knowing gets shattered.

Luckily, though, Tim avoids opening that can of worms.

He takes a step back from Jason, looks away and mutters, “It’s not relevant to the Mission.” Which is a total cop-out, but Jason will take it. “Anyway, if you’re done causing trouble here and riling up the gangs, I’ll take my leave.”

“Wish you would.”

Tim shoots him an unimpressed glare—or at least, that’s what it seems like to Jason. “Don’t make me come back here. And for god’s sake, at least call and congratulate the happy couple.”

He grapples away rather than allow a witty retort; Jason watches him go with a scowl. Once he’s sure the other vigilante is gone, he tugs the glove off his left hand, frowning at the whorls of crimson and yellow retreating down his forearm and back to his wrist.

His soulmark appeared one night a few evenings before the Garzonas incident. Jason vaguely remembers swinging through an alley to escape yet another argument with Bruce and knocking out a bunch of thugs threatening a kid. He’d been so buzzed on adrenaline and fury he hadn’t noticed the warmth in his wrist. He only caught sight of the mark itself when he returned to the Cave.

And then he spent the night wondering if one of the assholes he knocked around was his soulmate. It wasn’t a comforting idea, and he’d decided then and there to cover up the mark and forget about it. The disappointment about his potential soulmate had been a contributing factor in a long line of shit the universe decided to dump on him that sent him to Ethiopia. If he was linked to scum like that, he wanted to be as far as possible from Gotham.

It never even occurred to him to imagine the kid in the alley was his match. Hell, it didn��t even register when he discovered that Tim Drake had been following Batman and Robin around for years.

Only that day at the Tower, when Jason made his first move against Batman and attacked his replacement, did he finally make the connection.

His mark reacted the minute they were in the same room, spreading across his skin and swirling about seeking its partner. Jason had been so far gone with rage that the sight of it had made him angrier, made him hit harder—because if he didn’t meet Tim before, it meant their bond hadn’t been strong enough to keep him from making the biggest mistake of his life.

It meant he was supposed to meet him after being ripped apart and rebuilt as a weapon.

Luckily, or not, Tim was unconscious before the manifested completed, sneaking out from beneath the long green gauntlets of Jason’s fake Robin suit.

And if he did happen to notice before passing out, the kid hasn’t said anything about it.

Probably hates me and doesn’t want to acknowledge the universe’s idea of a shit joke.

Jason doesn’t blame him. Soulmates are a crock of shit anyway, and Tim’s better off without being tethered to him, and vice versa. They should keep pretending.

Because Jason doesn’t get to be happy.

And Tim deserves better than him because Tim—as much as he’s a pain in the ass—is good.

“And on that note,” Jason murmurs to himself, putting his gauntlet back on, “time to play the villain.”

The tip he received put him in the Ghost Dragons’ crosshairs—which means someone on his payroll is making a move, either against him or against someone else.

Time to find out for sure.

And no more moping over this soulmate crap.

Johnny Lino is the head of an investment company that’s just a front for his money laundering. He’s been passing the Red Hood information about his clients for the better part of a year now, ever since Jason put the fear of Hood in him. Quite a feat, considering the man’s a few inches taller and broader.

Jason finds him in a condo off the Diamond District, watching the Knights game and stuffing his face with pretzels.

Ponzi schemes don’t buy manners, I guess.

“Johnny,” he greets in a clear, would-be friendly manner that has the older man choking up his most recent handful. “Long time no see. Got a bone to pick with you.”

He expects there to be some mumbling and groveling, a few bald-faced lies that require the generous application of foot to face and the reassurance that everything in Jason’s sandbox is back to the way it should be.

So, it surprises him when Johnny scrambles for something that Jason notes too late is a panic button. All of a sudden, half a dozen masked men in combat gear and carrying assault rifles are busting through the door.

“That’s a bit of an overreaction to some conversation, don’t ya think?” Jason asks, throwing himself into action to deal with the interlopers. Bullets fly and knives slice toward him, but in five minutes he’s standing in the ruins of the room with six unconscious men.

And one dead one.

Johnny’s got a neat hole in the side of his head, from one of his hired muscle’s guns, Jason presumes.

“And doesn’t that say a lot about the quality of hired muscle in Gotham these days?” he grumbles, kicking at the body. “Can’t even trust your own people not to shoot you by accident.”

He can hear sirens, knows a neighbor or someone has called in the noise and heads for the fire exit before anyone can link him to the scene. That’s all he needs is the big Bat thinking he pulled the trigger in there.

And damn it, the giant bastard was one of my best sources. Now I’ve got to find someone else.

The encounter bothers him.

He’s had people on his payroll get shifty before, but it’s been his experience that there’s more of a prelude before the attempt to stab him in the back. They try to run or talk their way out of it; it seems Johnny went all out, trying to take out the Red Hood, all because of a bit of questionable information.

If he was so desperate to hire a kill squad rather than answer some well-deserved questions…

Maybe it’s not me that spooked him.

He thinks back to the shot that killed Johnny, remembers the angle it hit the head, and where the exit wound was. The opposite direction from where the thugs entered—from the window.

“There was another shooter,” he realizes.

A quick visit to the building opposite confirms his suspicion: the scrape where someone set up a tripod, bullet casing rolled to one side.

It wasn’t Johnny afraid to talk to the Red Hood—someone else feared he would.

Question is, were they worried he’d talk or worried he’d talk to me?

⁂⁂⁂ 

Next Chapter

This blog isn’t my primary, so my reblogs don’t show up very well. As such, please reblog the fic, otherwise not a lot of people are going to see it :)

<3 Violet

[kimraver]

It’s hard to pin down Kim Raver’s most memorable role. To some, she’ll forever be Audrey Raines from 24. To others, she’s known for having played the delightful Dr. Teddy Altman on Grey’s Anatomy since 2009. And lest we forget, there were also her turns as Nico Reilly on Lipstick Jungle and Kim Zambrano on Third Watch. With these and other beloved performances, Raver has cemented her place as one of primetime television’s most prolific actors.

And this summer, she makes her directorial debut with Tempting Fate, the first in a trio of Lifetime original movies based on British author Jane Green’s best-selling novels. The film, which stars Alyssa Milano, was co-directed by Manu Boyer, Raver’s real-life husband and dad to the couple’s two sons. (Raver and Boyer also co-produced the second and third films in the series, To Have & To Hold and Family Pictures.) Tempting Fate delivers on absolutely everything you’d want from a Lifetime original: There’s a strong but flawed female lead, a passionate affair, a family tested, drama galore and… murder. Oh, wait, there is no murder. But there is loads of the other stuff.

We recently had the chance to sit down with Raver in our New York City studio to talk about directing, Grey’s Anatomy, working motherhood and which of her iconic characters she wishes she could play forever. Keep reading for the full interview, and catch Tempting Fate on Lifetime now.

SheKnows: What drew you to this particular project for your directorial debut?

Kim Raver: My partners brought the book to me and when I read it — the first Jane Green book, Tempting Fate — I just felt like it was a story about women. I loved the fact that the character wasn’t this perfect Hollywood woman, and I felt like that was really relatable. I think so often as women we have all of this sort of media of perfection, and I think we’re so much more complicated than that. And I love that [Alyssa Milano’s character] makes a really shitty decision. There’s also the fallout of it. I also thought it was really a coming of age story. I feel like we talk about the coming of age of women and girls at the age of 13 or 14, but I really think we also evolve as far as who we are or what our voice is as women as we get older. And I thought this was amazing. You know, she made a crappy decision and then she has to deal with the consequences. And it’s not this sort of happily ever after, but it’s this amazing journey of this woman taking control of her life. And, to me, that was really accessible, and I wanted to expand on those stories we see, and make a movie like that. It really reminded me of Diane Lane in Unfaithful.

SK: I love that movie. She’s not a hero, but you empathize with her.

KR: Yes! I love it too. You relate to her. And that’s what really drew me to this project. And I loved developing it. We had talked about me acting in it, but I really wanted to have the experience of directing it, and I think by being on a Shonda Rhimes show, I saw that it was a possibility.

SK: You co-directed Tempting Fate with your husband, Manu Boyer. Was this the first time you two had worked together?

KR: Yes!

SK: And what was that dynamic like? Was there a learning curve?

KR: No, not at all. Because we’ve literally been together for 20 years and have two kids, and the juggling and managing of, like, daily household schedule — kids, sports, work, life — it was a very smooth transition. I respect him so much as a director, and just in life, and I think he respects my knowledge as an actor, so we really kind of leaned on each other to our strengths, and then also to the areas that we’re developing. I think that that’s a good partnership, right? You honor the person in the areas they’re really good at, and you support them in the areas they’re getting better at. You really have to take your ego out of it and just focus on the story.

SK: Being a working mom — no matter what you do or what your life looks like — can be a challenge. Do you think work-life balance really exists? Is it something that you think women should even be trying to aspire to?

KR: I just heard someone the other day say that work-life balance is bullshit. And I think that that’s interesting. I think it’s the ‘do it all’ thing that’s bullshit. I think the balance is trying to find sanity and health within it. And also, being present. Because I don’t want to look back and feel like I missed out on my children and raising my children. But I am also a career woman. I love my career. And I think the balance is that you dip in and out of them both. And yeah, there’s probably a time or two that I’ve missed something at school, but then I’m there making homemade costumes on set so that I feel that I am a part of their lives. And then I’m sure there are also some things in my career that I didn’t get to do because I chose to be present with my kids. So, I think that pressure to have it all — that’s where the bullshit is. And the balance is figuring out, how do I stay as present and healthy and raise a healthy family within the insane schedule that we’re all juggling?

SK: As an actor, have you found that being directed by a woman is a different experience?

KR: Yeah, it’s interesting. For me this whole movement is not about bashing men, it’s just about now all of a sudden, for the first time really, women are having an opportunity to have a voice creatively, and so many female directors never got that, ever. They weren’t even allowed to direct. So, I think for me the experience is that there’s an intimacy that I enjoy as an actor having a female director that I might not necessarily have with a male director. I think women have a different view than men, so I like finally having that experience of being able to share that female gaze and experience from a female perspective of a woman directing me.

SK: You’ve played so many memorable characters, and you’ve also reprised many of those roles years later, which makes them feel especially iconic. If you could only play one of those characters for the rest of your life, who would it be?

KR: Oh, that’s really interesting. Nico [from Lipstick Jungle] I loved because of her whole fashion, and I loved that she was really an empowered woman. You know, she was with a younger guy, and her husband left her. Audrey on 24, I also love her. She was super smart and badass. And I loved working with Kiefer [Sutherland], and I loved our characters’ relationship. But I have to say I think it would be Teddy [from Grey’s Anatomy], because I love the combination. I love that I get to do comedy and humor and yet she also has this sort of gravitas and intensity. And she’s such a giver. I also like that she’s learning to maybe stand up for herself a little bit. She’s always taking care of everyone else and I feel like that moment in Germany where she kicked Owen out was also a defining moment for her. I feel like she’s kind of on the upswing of finding out who she is. I just like the combination of being able to have comedy and drama at the same time, so I would say Teddy.

SK: What are some shows that you’re watching on TV right now?

KR: Dead To Me. I think the performances are fantastic. And Killing Eve, and I love it because the writer and creator [Phoebe Waller-Bridge] also has her own show, which she’s starring in! Is that even possible? I just think that’s incredible. And Big Little Lies — with Reese Witherspoon and Nicole Kidman, who found the book and then made it. That’s also for me this incredible example of, ‘see one do one, see one be one,’ as Geena Davis says.

SK: It does seem like more women are beginning to write, produce and develop their own projects, though we’re far from gender parity in directing.

KR: The numbers are still really scary. Lifetime has hired amazing numbers of female directors in the last year — 78 percent. And out in the world, it’s only 17 percent. So, Lifetime is doing it right, and the rest of the industry has to catch up.

Tempting Fate, To Have & To Hold and Family Pictures are all streaming now on Lifetime.