#thinking he probably would not actually (he just wants him dead. he wants justice and peace and escape.) but if he did it would be there.

[edwinisms]

I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.

they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.

[ofyorkshire]

thinkin' about............... vindictive, angry, vengeful bj.

[radiance1]

When the Justice League heard of Phantom, they believed they had to act quickly. Based on what they were told by the GIW, a branch of the government they had no knowledge of previously (Batman is working to correct that), the ghost was dangerous and extremely powerful.

A ghost that terrorized a small town that they GIW have tried-and failed- on numerous occasions to send back to the Ghost Zone. The GIW wouldn't have come to the Justice League for help if it were just that, but based on what they have claimed Phantom has achieved an inexplicable rise in power after having met with the King of ghosts himself.

If what they say is true, then ghosts could potentially invade and cause an all-out war with humanity that the Justice League would rather much avoid thank you.

Negotiations for peace or understanding have been repeatedly rejected and the GIW has been led to believe that Phantom has done something to the Fenton couple. The leading ecto-biologists in the world, years of research suddenly wiped clean off and acting much more cordial towards the ghost.

A complete 180.

So much so that you could even claim them to have been mind controlled. Which isn't outside the realm of possibility due to ghosts having an innate ability to overshadow others and control them.

Perhaps even the entire town has fallen under Phantom's control. Even another ghost, who had just been recently opposed to Phantom, has fallen under his control.

So the Justice League had to act fast.

---

Danny was fucked.

He could tell that very, very well. He still didn't have his entire new... dragon thing... under control very well, mostly sticking a half human like form. His powers were stronger yes but he couldn't really control them well.

Which is kinda why he's fucked.

Danny has never heard about the Justice League before, mostly because he had recently found out that apparently Amity Park was isolated. Like, extremely. Basically it's own little world cut off from the rest.

So when they appeared with the GIW he thought, hey, maybe they were finally changing their white suit shtick.

He didn't expect them to be extremely well-trained, have supernatural abilities or magic. Along with their usual tech well.

Yea.

Danny was fucked.

And he was very, very scared.

He's already died once but that didn't mean he wanted to die again, and he knows that he would probably be heavily experimented on if the GIW actually got their hands on him.

He was alone. He was surrounded. He was outnumbered. And he was oh, so very scared.

His family and friends had already fallen (thankfully not dead, just unconscious he thinks) and Vlad was occupied elsewhere, also fighting.

So Danny was alone.

No one would be coming to help him.

So what did he do?

He opened his mouth and did something he didn't do often. Despite that he could see that they somewhat recognized what he was about to do and tried to find cover.

Danny wasn't aiming at them.

He pulled his head back, mouth aimed at the sky.

Danny wailed.

It was waaaay more powerful than he had originally thought, so he was glad he aimed it at the sky.

As soon as it was over he felt drained, swaying on his feet and trying to use his tail to steady himself and not fall off his own claws.

They didn't know what was happening.

Danny just hoped it worked.

---

Neither the Justice League nor the GIW knew why Phantom shot one of his most powerful attacks up into the sky, but they did see the opportunity it presented.

Phantom was weak. Looking like he would fall off his own feet and fall unconscious.

They had to act quickly.

But before they could, from right where Phantom had wailed into the sky.

It cracked.

And continued to crack.

Until a large hole appeared in the sky, leading into a dimension of endless green.

The Infinite Realms.

They believed Phantom was trying to retreat.

They were wrong.

Two roars came from the portal, forcing everyone to cover their ears.

Then.

Something came out of the portal.

A long, serpentine dragon flowed out, flying around the area of the crack before descending down and around Phantom.

Then.

A giant claw grabbed onto the edge of the crack. Pushing against it until it broke, forcing the hole bigger and bigger as a much, much larger dragon stepped out. Standing protectively over the serpentine dragon and Phantom.

A large crown wrapped in flame floating about its head signified its status.

The Ghost King.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“I’m having a child.”

Danny stared at Batman.

“…Uh, congrats?”

Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”

Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”

Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.

“I mean- I have parents!”

“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”

Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”

“They’re still… alive?”

“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.

“I see.”

“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”

Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.

“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.

“Of course. Tell me everything.”

The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.

Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.

——

“Hey, Tim?”

Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”

“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”

Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”

Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”

“You… want to confront Batman.”

“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”

“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.

“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”

“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.

“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”

Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”

Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”

“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”

“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”

“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.

Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.

“Jason regularly showers, though?!”

“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”

“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”

“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”

“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”

“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”

“Danny, what the fuck?”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”

“Hey!”

“Soul-stinky nerd man!”

——

“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.

“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”

“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”

“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.

“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”

“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.

“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.

“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.

“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.

“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.

[tourmelion]

:)

Did you ever draw martins superhero(?) origin story? I'd love to see that c:

[image ID: a digital comic featuring Martin Blackwood and Peter Lukas from the Magnus archives. Comic depicts martin entering a room with a coffee in his hand, calling out "mr.lukas?". He peeks his head around the door and says "Mr. Lukas?" Again. He begins saying "I have your coffee-" but trails off as he turns to see peter. He's overlooking a control panel and a large device that looks like a lighthouse with a ring in the centre. Inside the ring, a person is screaming and dissolving into fog until they disappear. Peter turns around and says "Ah! Martin". Martin yells at him "what the hell did I just watch?! I know this place is shady but-but you just killed a man! He's dead!". Peter says "look martin, I don't expect you to understand our work here, you're only an intern after all, but-". Martin cuts him off "BUT WHAT, PETER?!"

martin pauses, looks at the coffee in his hand and goes "actually what if I just-" before pouring it over the control panel as peter yells "NO!". The ring on the device begins to break apart with white lightning coming from it as peter yells "martin you bleeding idiot!". Martin says "uhh...peter, what did I do?". We then see the two men dissolving into fog as they're hit with a white beam. There's text in between them that reads: "Martin blackwood never considered himself a significant man. A lowly intern for peter Lukas at the Lukas co. Lab who had lied on his CV to get there, martin knew what it was like to be treated with indignity. And so, when he saw the Lukas family conducting their immoral experiments to harness the power of a pocket dimension they called "Forsaken", he used that spark of spite and his long neglected desire for justice, and made one small act of rebellion, sabotaging the Lukas' experiments- but at the cost of him becoming...the Forsaken man! With his powers of telepathy, invisibility, and using the Forsaken to travel, he defends the world from those who wish fear upon it!". End ID]

Sorry this is a bit late, but this ask finally motivated me to outline Martin's origin clearly so I wanted to do the best I could with it! I straight up forgot to draw a panel here but you can still follow along lmao. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

[flamingpudding]

Triple Identity Crisis

Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.

As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.

For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.

Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.

Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.

Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.

Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.

To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.

So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.

But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.

He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.

Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.

"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....

[hello-eden]

I have a whole diner Au planned out

Danny owns a diary for the dead, the liminals, and other magical creatures

It started off as a way to feed weaker ghosts ectoplasm so they would be able to succeed being in the infinite realms and then after a while just turned into an actual diner to feed the people

Like demons ,fae, gods or goddesses they all go to Danny's restaurant

At Phantom's Dinner you can pay for your meal with physical money, diamonds, runestones, anything even including soul contracts that's how Danny ended up getting all of Constantine soul contracts

I want Constantine to find out in Justice League Dark growing up there to demand by Constantine's soul

After busting and every being there finds what they did very disrespectful so Justice League have to wait to get a table get seated at that table

Only server that's would like to actually serve them is Klarion and he wears a diner uniform that's always changing different colors in a pair of roller skates he's the only one that's willing to deal with the Justice League

And why he's doing so he's also got to bring with the regulars about like their humans and stuff like talking about the new Bruce Wayne rumor like they're all just gossiping with each other about the human world

After a while Dr Fate demands to see Danny and they find out that Danny is like the 17 year old boy who decided to open up a diner for the Dead, The Liminals, and The Undecided

I just find the idea of Danny owning a diner and then hiring Klarion and the rest of his friends to help him run the diner also the fact that he immediately as soon as he gets Constantine he sometimes asked him to be busboy when work service is really high and they need dishes clean

I hope you like my idea I love your Talia as Danny content so much

╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

I love Klarion working there. Sam probably works with sourcing ingredients.  half of the Justice League probably thinks Danny is an Eldridge being with an undetermined age and the other half thinks he's a kid with good intentions.

I love the idea. Thank you :)

[wolvesroampastelgalaxies]

Edit: All chapters up on tmblr & ao3 :p

Okay, so I got alot of hits on my last FoP:ANW ficlet. Which had me re-reading it frequently. So instead of healing, I desperately wanted to fix this situation. I think I am genuinely affected that Timmy isn’t the MC anymore.

My child hood = 💀

Anyway, I made a continuation kinda. I’m much better at introspection than writing out actions (I think). So if this piece is not of the same quality as the last. Lemme know, I really wanna do this concept justice. :p

On a Wing and A Wish 🪽

 I wish Timmy Turner got back all the memories of his fairies and could be apart of his family forever.

    “What is this?” Dev asks, “Whose Timmy Turner?”

  Peri harshly shushes him, hovering in close while darting his eyes around Dev’s room.

    Begrudgingly, the kid whispers, “What’s the deal? No one is here. What. Is. This?”

  This - was a note looped with periwinkle ink on what was balled up paper. Peri couldn’t believe what he was doing. Sneaking behind his parents’, and worse, the Fairy Council’s back, asking his own god-kid for a wish. He never thought to go through with it, even if he did frequently imagine the outcome. But it was the one thing he’d wanted since his brother left.

  No. Not left. He forgot. They made him forget. He never left us.

  Never left me.

  He sighs, resuming the usual distance. Dev can finally breathe in air that’s not Peri’s cologne and takes in his god-parent’s appearance. The fairy did not look good. Usually quaffed hair was flat and tussled, like he forgot to shower then tossed and turned all night. Which, ew, he probably hadn’t showered or poofed himself clean or whatever fairies do based on the pit stains. Sweat was also causing clammy hands that were attempting to wring themselves dry. His usual calming, lavender eyes were bloodshot from what he could tell. Well, when they weren’t searching for a haunted house jump scare.

    Dev waves his arms, “Hello? Earth to Peri!”

  The beat of wings is audible as Peri jumps a foot higher in the air.

    “Are you broken? Can fairies malfunction?” Dev gets a dimmadome idea, “Do I get a new one if you do?”

  This absurd question has Peri descending from the (literal) high level of anxiety to a level of annoyance. That level being eye to eye with his god-kid, where purple and blue begin a standoff. If there was a movie in the pinpricks of their eyes, it would reflect a tense western gun fight. Peri would have a wand at his holster and Dev would be there, arms crossed and smug as can be. His mouth loaded with the bullet 'I wish…' and Peri would be dead on the dusty road.

  A wing and a prayer is the saying. He had wings, he just needed the prayer.

  Or a wish.

  Peri surrenders, realizing picking a fight will not work in his favor.

    “Fairies can’t grant their own wishes.”

     The ginger scoffs, “That’s it?” He thought his fairy was dense, but he didn’t realize Peri was actually challenged. “Just, have another fairy grant your wish.”

  Rather than meeting with some Peri-fonted, copy-paste of Da Rules, Dev saw as his god-parent open and close his mouth. Pale lips pressing in a thin line. His small body seemed to curl in on itself, shielding not from Dev, but the irony of what he had said.

     Without looking at him, Peri said, “They can’t. It’s not how it works. Only a god-kid can make wishes.”

  The hitch and crack at the word 'can’t' did not go unnoticed by either. Peri flinches. He had spent all week wrestling with the notion. It was only last night that he had scribbled the note down. There was nothing in Da Rules about another kid wishing for someone to not lose their memories. His mom was right, there are a lot of loopholes.

   Peri had hoped and hyped himself up enough that being a godparent would fix him. If he could recreate it, he wouldn’t feel the dreams of his childhood each night turn to mourning. Deep nostalgia for a time that seemed imagined rather than the most impressionable years of his immortal life. Hijinks among his and his parents’ god-kids flooded him with memories. Waves of jealously crashed down as Dev and Hazel shared their youth, times they’ll have forever.

  Peri could not live eternity drowning.

  The human boy felt awkward, it never occurred when he wasn’t the most grieved one in the room. Dev knew, though not consciously, that grief was not just losing someone. It was being lost yourself. Each day happened, it was not unnoticed, but it wasn’t remembered.

    “Well….what would I even be wishing for? I was taught not to sign something before reading it, err wishing.”

 Peri’s wings flutter briefly. Was Dev considering it? What was he supposed to say? He gathers himself as much as he can to stop shaking from nerves.

    “Timmy Turner is someone really important to me. Like, he’s kinda the whole reason I exist.” He pauses, waiting for Dev’s reaction.

    “I thought the green fairy was your dad?”

    “No, not like that. Although, I guess he did wish for my dad to get pregnant.”

    “Your dad was WHAT?” Dev shouts but Peri is quickly on him again, hand pressed tight over the kid’s mouth. Dev only briefly struggles to push him off, dramatically gasping for breath.

    “It’s complicated okay? I just, it would mean everything to me, to my parents, if you could wish this.” Peri interjects before Dev can close curtain on his overreaction.

     Cutting a glare that isn’t so much as throwing the knife but threatening to, Dev straightens himself. “What’s in it for me?”

  Whatever miserable feelings Peri has disappear into steam when he reddens from frustration at the kid’s incredulousness.

     "'In it for you?!' You literally have anything you have ever wanted at your finger tips. You have ME! A fairy! With an endless amount of wishes. There is nothing I can’t give you if you want it!” Peri hisses. He might pass out, all the breath pushed from his lungs at this nightmare of a child. He takes a deep breath.

    “It’s a favor. I’m asking a favor Dev.”

  The kid did feel a little stupid saying that. It was such a habit. He’s never been in a situation that wasn’t an exchange. It’s not like Peri was going to stop granting him wishes if he said no. And besides being less annoying, there was nothing more the fairy could do if he said yes.

  Dev sighs, he knows he’s going to make the wish.

    “Do you know why kids get godparents to begin with?” Peri’s tone is drained of any animosity. It sounds hollow, like an echo instead of the real words.

  He isn’t sure if Peri is looking for an answer, but Dev is still feeling sheepish after his own selfishness.

     “No...”

  Fairy eyes are known to have a slight shimmer in their iris’, as if they held infinitesimal pieces of glitter. Dev hopes that it’s just the light magnifying the effect in Peri’s and not him on the verge of tears.

     “Because life isn’t fair. When life isn’t fair, kids get fairies. The fairies stay until life gets better or they grow up. But,” he falters then, a strained attempt at composure, “but they always forget.”

  He flutters down onto the side of Dev’s bed. Wings mirroring his melancholy as they droop. This is not a reserved sadness, it’s not something you can leave till nightfall, not anymore. Not now that he has to face it every day, worse that’s of his own volition. It’s a lonely feeling that twists and winds itself so tight he can’t stand it. Something had to be done.

      “I just can’t forget.” And there is a tear now, one he hopes his god-kid cant see with his head bowed.

  Hesitantly, Dev sits down. It’s rare for them to be on an even level when he’s not hovering. Peri is so small compared to the 10 year old, who feels like moving an inch might shatter his fairy.

      “Was he your first god-kid? Is that how, fairies like, reproduce or something? You run out of fairies for kids and when you need more you just…..your dad?” Dev can’t decide between disgust, curiosity, or confusion.

  Peri chuckles, plugging any leaks he has with a sniffle. He guesses he’ll get a few awkward questions on that later.

    “Eh, no. We grew up together. He’s kinda like - he’s my brother.” The statement is the only solid thing he can cling to. That one simple fact.

  He’s my brother.

    “I know it doesn’t make any sense, and it’s a lot to go over. But I promise if you do this for me, I will explain everything. Anything you want to know.”

  There is another thing that makes Dev feel like an idiot, and that’s his dad. Anytime there might be a sliver of a chance for him to pay attention or choose Dev over some money scheme, Dev falls for it every-time. A swell of hope and admiration fills his chest and then he’s getting the breath knocked out of him when, surprise, he’s never his dad’s choice. Peri was right about life not being fair. And it doesn’t just seem unfair for humans. But, if he got a fairy to even it out for him, maybe he could try too.

  Besides, he was going to-do it anyway.

    “Hey Peri?”

  He rubs his eyes with his sleeve for good measure and gives a mosaic smile of all the shattered hurt inside.

    “Yeah kid?” 

  Dev takes a breath.

    “I wish- “

[twilightkitkat]

OK QUESTION with the one series with the different universe we see how you think the X-Men would react to a similar Logan being so close with Deadpool.

BUT

How do you think our main universe reacts to the relationship especially when they compare this new Logan to the fallen hero?

This is such an interesting question that I thought about it for a while before answering because I wanted to do it justice. Firstly, I want to clarify that my answer takes place in a world where all the X-men are miraculously alive somehow except for Logan (maybe by some time shenanigans or just twisting the plot).

---

The world at large would be shocked to see The Wolverine again, especially after he was confirmed dead and his bones were buried. The TVA wouldn't want the entire world to know about them, and Logan and Wade would probably be the type to never really formally address his existence (since they aren't actually official heroes or a government body).

His resurrection would likely spark a lot of conspiracy theories and people wondering if he had a secret mission where he pretended to die or if he had a reason to stage his death. It's almost like the urban legend of Bigfoot with how rarely he shows up (somehow always next to the same red vigilante).

Aside from the initial shock, the public reception would be very positive. Who wouldn't want to see your childhood superhero back in action again? People would be excited to see him rejoin the X-men only to be extremely confused when he showed no interest in returning to his superhero work (especially when they assumed he either died and came back or was on a mission and so would naturally want back his spot).

As a matter of fact, after initial sightings of him in his suit, he just sort of... fades away. He never really makes public appearances or is involved in much of anything. He looks different than he did before and he always dresses casually. This combined with the lack of media about him after the initial outrage means that he only occasionally gets recognized in public.

(Something he's secretly very grateful for. He disliked being reminded of his past, of a world where he wasn't a failure. Of the version of him that was revered instead of feared and hated. He has to stop himself from flinching sometimes when people loudly yell out, "It's The Wolverine!" He lays low for a while in Wade's apartment, only accompanying him sometimes on covert missions until people mostly stop caring about his existence.)

But more than public confusion is the confusion of the X-men. They heard the truth through Colossus that this Wolverine was from another universe than their own and that he'd helped save their timeline.

(And most of the X-men were very confused because... why does Colossus know this of all people? Why didn't Logan just come to tell them himself? They knew Colossus was in cahoots with this vigilante vaguely from the time he visited the mansion, but they didn't know he was actually close to him. And why did being Deadpool's friend give him exclusive access to The Wolverine and his situation?)

They expected Logan to show up at their doorstep, one day. He apparently had the X-men in his own world, and while Colossus never really elaborated further (despite their prodding) they could surmise something happened to them if Logan was staying here. It's a perfect fit: the X-men who lost their Wolverine and the Wolverine who lost his X-men.

But he never does. At first, they chalk it up to him going on one of his solo trips. He liked to do that—to go out into the wilderness or disappear on some unspecified mission. He never really stayed in one place too long. (It was his personality, wasn't it? He got antsy being tied down to commitment and wanted to be free from everyone. It was fine even if it was inconvenient, it was just how he was.)

But then he never makes an effort to get involved. To reach out to them. He doesn't show any interest at all in returning to his old life or taking up the helm of an X-man again.

This Logan couldn't be all that different from theirs, right? Even if he was a lone wolf type who kept up his guard and acted gruffly, he only really had them. They took him in and fed him and clothed him and he showed up when shit went sideways in return. A perfect, neat, package with a bow on top.

But then a month passes. Then two. And even if he was the type to do his own thing, this was a little ridiculous. He'd just come back to life and didn't even bother showing up?

They all cornered Colossus, one day. Asked him about his well-being and what he was doing. Why he wasn't reaching out and when they should expect him to come back.

His answer shocked them. Apparently, Logan wasn't out on a mission at all. Instead, he was staying with Deadpool at his apartment and just... living there. Existing. He wasn't even particularly busy, he just hadn't visited. When they inquired further, Colossus smiled slightly and said that he seemed happy there. Content. That Wade was good for Logan and Logan was good for him, too.

It was... hard to wrap their heads around. Logan—fierce, closed-off, restless—just staying in one place? Content to just live with someone and accompany them on mercenary jobs.

Since when did Logan prefer teamwork? He always tried to turn joint missions into solo ones, and went out of his way to brush people off.. More than that—Logan, a mercenary? He'd rather pick up illegal work for some extra cash than return to being a hero? To being with them? Why did he decide to stay in a shitty apartment taking shady jobs for rent instead of just staying for free at their mansion? It made no sense.

It all came to a head when Laura (who'd been staying with them but largely kept to herself around the X-men) had her birthday party. They had parties often for the children in the mansion, that wasn't anything new. Except for the fact that the Wolverine was coming. She'd been excited when she mentioned that both Logan and Wade were going to show up (they didn't even know she'd stayed in touch with them).

(Why was the first time they saw Logan at a birthday party for someone else? Were they not enough? They'd taken him in despite his... difficult personality. What more did he want?)

And Logan comes. But he's entirely different than their Logan, the one they remember.

He's more... relaxed, somehow. He looks less hostile and cagey, letting his muscles relax and his head lean back. He looks like a man content with life instead of the guy who ran away the first chance he got, who always had an itch under his skin to move and never stayed too long.

He sticks to Wade like glue. They're always touching, somehow. An arm around the shoulders, a hand placed firmly on Wade's waist, fingers intertwined, legs pressed together. Logan is touchy in a way he never was with them.

And the way he looks at Wade—like he hung the stars and the moon and the sky itself. Even when they try to catch his eye from across the room, to get him to come over, he doesn't pay attention. His eyes are firmly locked on Wade's face, a warmth there (a softness) that they'd never seen before.

Wade gawks at the mansion and its decoration, flitting between Colossus and Negasonic and Yukio, gleefully grabbing some of the food. And Logan stays by his side the whole time, only watching him, murmuring in his occasionally which makes Wade either jab him in the elbow or cackle.

(And Logan lets him. He doesn't even retaliate aside from a grunt when Wade punches him in the arm, rolling his eyes and flicking his forehead in return but entirely content to let Wade at him. The trust there was so obvious it was painful. The familiarity. The warmth.)

The first time Logan takes his eyes off Wade is when Laura comes up to them. His eyes soften as he looks at her, almost imperceptibly if not for the fact that in their memories, his eyes were always hard. Guarded. They could count on one hand the number of times they saw even a semblance of that expression, normally involving Jean or Rogue.

Laura hugs him, grinning as she prattles on about whatever she'd been doing lately. Logan hugs her back, arms coming to wrap firmly around her. Easy affection. She pulls back and Wade hugs her too, spinning her around in the air as she laughs and hits him and asks him to put her down.

When Logan looks at them, the fondness is so obvious it's painful. They were used to seeing Logan show emotion—anger, sadness, fear, arousal. But never softness. (Especially not for a tumor-ridden mercenary and an experiment built off of his DNA.)

The party continues like that, with Logan leaning against Wade and basking in his presence. Hiding in his shadow when he's tired, leaning his forehead against Wade's shoulder.

Until they finally decide to approach them. Scott and Jean hold hands as they approach him for the first time, tired of observing him all night. Storm follows closely behind.

"Logan, nice seeing you man. It's, uh, been a while," Scott smiles crookedly at him. He expects Logan to respond how he normally does. To grin back, insult him, and start up their typical banter.

Like a well-oiled machine, they kept their rivalry going. Logan and Scott would act like they hated each other in public and fight like children over Jean until she inevitably chose Scott (and then it'd repeat). Sometimes, in the quiet of the night or an emotional moment, they'd become more. But that was rare, and Scott preferred the comfortable rhythm they normally kept to.

But Logan barely looked at him, nodded, and then turned back to Wade as he talked about some kid's show.

"Logan, that was a little rude, don't you think? We haven't heard from you in a while, it's good to see you're doing well." Jean lightly scolded him before letting her face melt into a smile. It was meant to be welcoming. Kind.

Scott tightened his arm around Jean. He knew Jean would always choose him, in the end, but it was annoying to see Logan flirt with her. She'd entertain him enough, and occasionally the three would wind in bed together in a moment of passion. But Jean was his, in the end.

Except, Logan didn't react. He just grunted in response. When his eyes met Jean's they were completely devoid of any attraction. He didn't flirt with her or pay her any attention. His eyes were solely on Wade.

It was only when Wade's eyes flicked toward them and he waved that Logan bothered to acknowledge their existence.

"Oh, hey! You guys are the real deal! The original X-men! The ones that took the 2000s by storm and made Marvel a shit ton of money," he rambled. His face was... interesting, to say the least.

Logan snorted. "Did you not expect to see the X-men in the X-mansion, bub?" The first time he verbally admitted they were even there.

"Considering the budget on my previous movies? Fuck no. It was too expensive to even have a good cameo, let alone actually have them on screen for more than a minute to have a conversation."

...What the hell was he talking about? He sounded clinically insane. And Logan was living with this guy?

But Logan laughed, genuinely, and it was like the world stopped spinning. He smiled and his eyes wrinkled, forming crescents. He teased Wade back in response, but they were stuck in that moment.

Logan was never like that. Never open, never soft. He cared, in a distant way, but he never really stayed. (Was it really that? Was it that he never tried to stay, or that they never gave him reason to? That they never gave him the chance before shutting the door in his face.)

But here it was. Physical proof that he was capable of looking at someone so softly. Of melting his hard exterior and becoming someone softer. Someone capable of cherishing the person they loved, of being domesticated.

Because there was really no other way than "domesticated" to describe him. He used to be like a wild animal—all sharp edges, jagged teeth, and razor-sharp claws. He snarled and growled at anyone who got too close and cornered him. He'd drop by for food, but snatch it and run off.

(But that's the thing about wild animals, isn't it? To get them to calm down, to stop seeing you as a threat, you need to be patient. To reach out. To prove you're safe. Did they ever really try?)

And now he even looked different. His hard muscles had filled out with a layer of fat. He looked healthy, like he wasn't just a tool built to fight and gnaw on the scraps he was given. He looked like a person who went home and ate a warm, balanced dinner at night. Who got adequate sleep and had all of his needs taken care of.

They thought that Logan's personality was rough, sharp, and jagged. That he was just Like That, and that it was useless to try to change it.

(After all, the bad boy is just someone you flirt with. Not someone you take him. Jean had said that, hadn't she?

And Logan had told her he could be the "good guy." Tried to show that he was capable of being more than just how he acted when he was hurt and alone. But she brushed it off. They all did.

And yet here Logan was. Soft and entranced by Wade in a way he never had been, even with her. Looking at him with something so much deeper than lust or attraction or infatuation. Looking at him with devotion. Reverence. Complete and utter love.)

But Logan wasn't Like That. He had always wanted to be soft. To be able to curl up next to somebody and trace the curve of their spine with his fingertips. He'd always yearned for a home he could feel genuinely warm in, where he'd be accepted and allowed to be vulnerable even if it wasn't pretty.

He'd only been hard because he had to. Because if he wasn't, the biting words and indifference of everyone around him would cut so deep he'd never recover. Because if he let himself love and be vulnerable with the X-men and they still viewed him as a passerby, as a tool, as an outsider, as just someone to sleep with—he'd break.

But Wade gave him a home. Gave him the chance to finally love and be loved and not feel afraid. To finally relax and open up. To show his emotions without fear of being scorned and to know he'd always be taken seriously. To not just be seen as the bad boy, but as a broken man desperate for anyone to cling to and feel cared for.

He was finally seen as more than just a stereotype. He was seen and loved for he was.

He was used to being hidden. Like a shameful secret. Jean was embarrassed to like him. Scott hid him away during the night and fought him during the day. He was a temptation, but that was it. They'd always choose each other first. Every member of the X-men had their person, but he was nobody's.

But with Wade, for the first time in his life, he was the first choice. He was the priority. He got to eat at the table instead of being fed scraps thrown onto the floor.

Logan thought it was natural to be treated as lesser. To be an afterthought. But with Wade, who cradled his face like he was something precious and was willing to die for him, he realized that he could be loved just as fiercely as he loved Wade. As an equal. As partners.

And so when he saw the X-men, he reacted the same way they had all those years ago: with indifference. With the same detached care he'd grown so used to. He spared them the effort of a few words, of reluctant acknowledgment, but that was it. If they never wanted to look closer at him or care about his needs, it was fine. But he'd do the same.

After all, there was so need to scramble to collect crumbs when he was well-fed. There was no need to look for a shitty room in an empty-feeling mansion when he already had a home.

[brucewaynehater101]

Jason takes Damian w/ him to Gotham and accidentally gets them both scammed into becoming Tim's Fake Uncle and Cousin

Jason is getting dragged into actually caring for this diaster of zero-selfcare kicking and screaming

Damian has latched onto his cousin big brother

The Bats are hella sus about Tim's so called family, especially with his Uncle who showed up only after Red Hood did

And Tim is feeling his heart break as he goes through with the plans to illegally become a premature 18 year old with a fake identity, false paper trail and get an income, then go back to seeing Robin only through his cameras

Only after reuniting Jason and Damian with the bats, and the whole family (alongside Young Justice) have their fotting settled enough that his loss won't be felt emotionally or mentally, of course

. . . Why are you looking at him like that?

Based on the fake uncle fic "Say Uncle" by Megaerakles

Oooh! The "Say Uncle" fic but with Damian too? That's brilliant!

The basic background is that Tim is Robin, his parents are dead, and he doesn't want to be adopted by Bruce. He's looking for an actor to play as his uncle so he won't end up in the system either.

There's a few ways to start this AU. One, Tim posts an ad or something, and Jason, who needs to pay for Damian's welfare, figures it's an easy enough job. He asks if he can bring his kid, and Tim ends up creating a cousin too. Tim figures it will help solidify the identity a bit more.

That, or Tim is looking for an uncle and, while out and about, stumbles upon Bruce's dead son grown up and what looks like a mini copy of Bruce. Seeing that neither appear to be trying to contact Bruce, Tim sighs as he figures he'll have to be the one to bridge that gap.

Damian, at first, will be suspicious about Tim. I think, in order to get them to bond, he shouldn't know about Robin. He thinks Tim is a regular civilian, and Jason is asking him to practice "civilian etiquette" with Tim. It goes better than expected because Tim, who is not a regular civilian, shrugs when a ten year old threatens him with a sword. It's Gotham.

Damian, expecting a regular civilian, ends up slowly finding out that Tim knows quite a lot about weird skills. He knows how to throw the batarangs that Damian found on the street (Jason does too, but Damian expects that). He knows how to hack, how to spar, and how to dismantle traps. When Tim finds out that Damian is interested in learning traps, he starts to bring back stuff from patrol.

Tim also let's Damian keep a few animals in their place (dealer's choice on whether they live at Drake Manor or at a new place).

Jason figures out pretty quickly that Tim is Robin (the kid keeps coming back with injuries). A combination of Tim being a wet paper bag for survival and him getting close to Damian endears Tim to Jason as he reluctantly becomes fond of the Placeholder.

Tim feels peace and comfort from these people who are probably Bruce's sons (maybe he even takes their DNA to test). Despite that, he's slowly building himself an identity that would stand Batman's scrutiny and an escape plan for when the others are ready to speak to Bruce and Dick and Alfred.

Perhaps Damian stumbles upon these plans and, after becoming a part of the Waynes, decides to stop them. He straight-up asserts to Tim that he doesn't know how to act and that Bruce will kick him out for being a murderer. Tim just has to stay behind to help Damian integrate with the family.

This buys the Waynes enough time to prove they actually do want Tim around.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

CONSUMED by dadsbestfriend!Price rn

He and your dad served together when they were both younger men, boys really, and they fought side by side for years before your dad packed all that in and decided not to renew his contract - leaving for a white picket fence life with your mum and you

You’ve never gotten to meet him before, but you feel like you kind of know him anyways because of the stories you’ve grown up hearing. He’s always been like a kind of figment of your imagination, someone your dads always spoken highly of in all of his tales from drunken weekends and adrenaline spiked firefights, he’s like some kind of mythic hero haloed in beer fumes and musing looks that get shut down when your mum asks if they both got themselves into any trouble on their latest gambit

Sure, you’ve seen pictures, you know what his face looks like, vaguely anyways. Apparently he has mutton chops now, something your dad is ‘always shocked by’ when they meet up now. However the pictures don’t do him justice. You realise that quickly after you do lay eyes on him.

You go over to your parents house, summoned for an early birthday dinner for your dad, and that’s when you see him. The man, the myth, the legend is cosied up on your usual spot on the corner couch, at the end of the short side with the chunky red tartan pillow barricading the hard brown couch arm. He turns when he sees you staring directly at him, meeting your gaze with a raised eyebrow.

The pictures didn’t really encapsulate how big he was, how broad his shoulders were as they took up an expanse of the chair back, how expressive his eyes were as they rover over you, how nauseatingly good he looked when ripped out of the confines of ink and paper and pressed into the lumpy old sofa you’d never been so needy to jump onto before.

Every little overworked neuron in your mind was busy exploding while you pictured tugging on his hair and beard and moaning out filthy things for him.

“You must be the kid,” Price observes, not knowing how much it would sting you, “how’s the head?”

If you weren’t aware of how childish it would be you’d huff that you were far from being a kid anymore.

“How’s my what?” Part of you wants to quip back that it’s ‘great- it comes recommended’ but then the sane part of you kicks in and thinks ‘perhaps don’t get yourself kicked out just as you’ve gotten in the door’

“Your dad showed me that charming little photo you stuck in the family group chat from the party last night. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree by the looks of it.”

Your face would flame up like a radiator in the dead of winter, you were just about spluttering and hissing like one too. You’d forgotten all about the drunken selfie you’d sent while in a full haze of peace love and a couple draws of your friend’s j after countless rum and cokes. ‘Love u guys, see ya tomoz’ you’d typed over it - remembering how you fumbled and squinted at the screen just so that it would be halfway coherent. Now sober, you knew it probably wasn’t.

“Fuck me, it actually sent,” you grumbled, jumping when you hear his earthy laugh tumble out.

His voice is like tree bark and honey, stolen straight from the mountains and imbued into his throat. You hang on his every sound, keen eyes glued to his plush pink lips that Peak out from under his beard.

You hardly notice your dad coming in until he’s all but shouting your name, wrapping you in for a bear hug you weren’t in the slightest prepared for.

Every response form there on out was hazy, as if it had been preprogrammed. For the entire night all you’d be able to focus on was John - He’d tell you to call him that after awkwardly addressing him as Sir, though not before something dark slithered over his eyes and passed in the instant it had come.

You’d spent the whole night fixated on John, hanging on his every word, sighing heavily when he reached back and combed through his hair, tousling it to a point that made you wonder if that’s how it looked after a night well spent in passion.

You were lucky you got through the dinner without making an arse of yourself, though to be fair your mum had gotten a jab in about how quiet you’d been. Better that than being embarrassing.

Though you weren’t to get away unscathed. It’d get late and after spending the whole night before fanatically talking and dancing, you had no energy left for being at your parents - present company included or not. However before you could call a taxi, Price would jump in and offer you a lift, claiming taxis were far too unsafe for someone so precious.

It’d make your parents laugh, but you weren’t even smiling. You’d stutter your excuses, telling him he didn’t need to make a fuss, but he’d be persistent. Being an army Captain and all, he was very difficult to argue with, so of course you found yourself in the passenger seat of his monstrous car, watching nervously as the old beast sputtered to life.

“Is this thing even legal to ride?” You’d mutter, frowning at the persistent choking noise that rattled underneath the engine roar.

“Could ask the same about you.”

It was barely a whisper, almost lost to the growl in his throat and the sound of the engine, but you were so sure you’d heard it said nonetheless. The possibility of it sent your back stick straight and your mouth plummeting to the floor, though in the back of your mind you wondered if you’d only heard him say it from out of the depths of your subconscious.

“Excuse me?” You’d chirp.

“I said: couldn’t get you to pull up some directions, could you?”

He’d side eye you as he said it, smiling to himself as he indicates and pulls out onto the road and out of the cul-de-sac.

Right. Directions, of course. You were just being filthy minded, you’d had a long couple days and you were strung out and tired. Why would he insinuate that he wanted to know if you were the right age to fuck or not. Especially when - even if you were by many measures - he was off limits to you. Forbidden. No go. Like the battle zones he probably waded into through his day job.

“Here you go. It’s not far!”

You’d pull up your phone, placing it on the dashboard so that he could see. He’d tell you to put on music too, shocking you when he’d produce an aux cord (by rights this car shouldn’t have even had the words aux cord uttered in it, but somehow it supported one).

“What kind of stuff do you listen to?” You’d ask, waiting to hear whatever dreary nonsense he was likely to come out with.

“What do you think I listen to?” He’d ask, barely paying attention to you as he made his way down the main road. “I’ll be happy with whatever you put on.”

“I mean i doubt our tastes are super similar.”

“You trying to drive at somethin’ here, sweetheart?”

You’d light up at the name, lighting up from the inside out in quiet awe. It’d be a challenge having to suppress your little firework show off happiness, so you’d hide it by shrugging and saying “figured you’d listen to old man music.”

He’d shake his head and grumble about ‘no such thing’ up until you put on an old Killers song and watched him smile - then you’d sagely nod your head and repeat ‘old man music’ delighting in his playful growl.

“Killers ain’t even that old sweetheart, at least stick some Dylan or Cash on if you’re gonna patronise me.”

“This came out in 2004, dude - I don’t know what to tell ya. It’s old.”

“Dude,” he’d grunt back. “Earlier it was Sir, was it not?”

You’d flush again and face the window, suddenly absorbing yourself in the outside world. The way he said that was far too…inviting. The no go zone was looking like the ‘get right the fuck in here and stomp all over your parents relationship with this man’ zone.

You couldn’t help yourself.

“Sorry, sir,” you’d tease. “Won’t happen again.”

Stupid insatiable brat, you’d inwardly curse, watching as Price’s smile widened again, pulling his whole face into a knowing grin.

It’d be clear to see you weren’t the only one fighting the urge to cross the barrier and take what you wanted. And with two people smashing at the confines…well.

One thing was for certain, you knew it in the pit of your belly, there was no way you were going to stay away now.

[eruanee]

On Round 7 and the utility of sacrifice

⚠️ ROUND 7 SPOILERS ⚠️

I wanted to use this post to respond to some criticism I've seen circulating about Round 7 — it mostly being about Till's death making Ivan's sacrifice useless.

To be fair, this post doesn't aim to dismiss anyone's feelings or criticisms about R7 or Till's (presumed) death, they're all incredibly valid! I even have my own that I will talk about later. This post's only goal is really just to start a conversation about the general narrative of ALNST and how to write a compelling narrative in general. No matter what I'll say, people resonate with stories differently and expect different things from them, and that's okay!

Personally, I truly didn't expect Till to die. Before R7 came out, I even texted a friend saying this:

– If one of them has to die, I think it'll be Luka. Till's protagonist syndrome is too strong and his death would be narratively flat, I believe. – Yeah.

And well, shot missed, unlike the one that shot through Till's neck.

Though, I really do believe Till might not be dead, not only because of the #copium but this isn't really the point of this post — I will assume he is so I can discuss what his death would actually mean to the narrative and how it would impact it.

I understand that no one (including myself) expected R7 to go that way. A lot of it had us realizing we might have gotten some elements of the story wrong — something I didn't take into consideration is that the round was probably rigged to make sure Luka would win, which makes sense because of course that Alien Stage isn't the fairest competition (and if Ivan's pictures on the billboards aren't part of Till's hallucinations, this is plainly evil).

R7 also had us wondering what the goal of the rebels truly is: did they even intend to save Till? If not, why did they save Mizi, what did they see in her? Unlike what I first thought, like many others, it seemingly wasn't a rescue mission.

When I watched R7 for the first time, I audibly gasped the moment I saw the "Luka wins" sign appears and Till being shot down. And I thought "Ah, so that's the kind of story VIVINOS wanted to make." I was already a huge fan of their work before ALNST began, mostly of their horror stuff. When I watched it, I knew I was about to sit in front of absolutely devastating content that would leave me sick. The tragedy was always cruel, often unrewarding, but I would always ask for more. Good thing ALNST now exists, uh!

I mention this to state I went into ALNST expecting roughly the same thing and it's essentially what I got. I didn't expect Till to die but his death, in a way, didn't surprise me. Did it make me sick though? It sure did!

I do agree R7 feels incomplete. I think it's interesting that I have not a single idea of what's going to happen next, but my biggest regret is indeed that Till's death doesn't seem to do justice to his character or characterization.

Till, the rebellious misfit, always breaking rules to the point he has to be physically restrained, completely beaten by despair and trauma once again, dying on stage after he got a slight glimpse of hope he can never actually reach.

This is peak tragedy, and a beautifully animated one at that, but it doesn't feel like a compelling character development. If Till is truly dead, then he dies with the potential of being so much more. And this is truly sad and disappointing.

And this is why his death would make me sadder than Sua's or Ivan's. They got to choose their deaths and what it would mean for them, Till didn't. He was suffering and overwhelmed. He only accepted his fate because he got to know Mizi was still alive before his final moments. He got to die in her embrace, which is probably the only thing he could've asked for if that were to happen.

Sua's death got to introduce us to the reality of Alien Stage.

Ivan's death was an emotional climax. It conclused his character arc in a devastating way, but gave him a meaningful ending nonetheless.

Their deaths let us understand what kind of world Alien Stage takes place in : a cruel world where humans are pets to aliens, if not simple disposal. A world where feelings are never reciprocated until it's too late, where you long for something impossible until you realize you should've paid attention to what was right in front of your eyes, too.

Alien Stage is a show where the candidates' suffering are seen and consumed as mere entertainment.

In this system, I believe Sua's and Ivan's meaningful deaths are anomalies. Till's death is the standard. An extremely unfair event, result of an extremely unfair competition. This isn't about who deserves to survive, but about who manages to. If anything, I think the aliens are relieved Till is dead, as he was mostly a bother to them. Luka is beloved and accommodating.

A world where death is the easy escape, if not almost a selfish one. Sacrifice is an act of love, but also an act of egocentricity. The sacrifice aims to be remembered as selfless and generous, but in the end, they only "run away without any sense of responsibility". The gift sounds beautiful when actually, it might only be rotten.

In such a world, how can a sacrifice ever be useful? I guess Ivan's wasn't. A sacrifice only happens to create a possibility, a chance, a what if.

Another very frustrating part of Till's death to me is that I thought he had the power to be a protagonist. I still stand by it but he was robbed of this agency. Him being used as a narrative device for Mizi's protagonist plotline (at least that's what I believe) feels a bit cruel, even narratively.

Alien Stage can be a frustrating story because it seems there is no way out, which is ultimately not something people are seeking for very often in a story. I still hope there's a way out somewhere, maybe not for Till, but that would already be something.

As for now, it seems Mizi's role is to manage to make Sua's sacrifice, as well as all of these deaths, worth something. This is the 50th season of Alien Stage. The pile of corpses is leaking red.

I do wonder where the story is going to head.

At the very least, Till wasn't unknown till the end. You could say that being loved, even for a blink, makes one's life worthy to be lived.

[direquail]

My specific read on John is not that he's a nice guy, either. It's that, like any good character (specifically a tragic character, which, TM has said that he is modeled on a mythical tragic hero, so) he has a flaw that dooms him. And what that means is, when he has the choice to change what he's doing, that flaw either prevents him from taking the option he's aware of, or prevents him from being aware that there is another option altogether.

And so as a writer, what I look for are moments where either:

something good about a character becomes an excess that harms themselves or others

we receive information that shows a persistent blind spot a character has

we look for times when a character gives their view of the world/a situation and it Does Not Match Up with reality, or is hinted that it doesn't

we look for evidence of something simmering under the surface that clashes with their outward, agreeable presentation

What fills that role for John?

Yep.

When this first pops up, it's pretty easily dismissed as yet another layer on the falsehood he's propped up. Admittedly, he's been doing it for ten thousand years, so it's probably got a few layers to it.

However:

This one, to me, gives us a hint about what John is blind to: That his friends see his vindictiveness and his failings and that they could still love him. This is where it crosses into tragedy, for me; where his own inability to forgive blinds him to the capacity that other people have for generosity--and so, to a world where "justice" means more than "vengeance for the dead".

And this illuminates the whole chain of events that leads him to that climactic scene in Harrow the Ninth, telling Mercy that she never would have forgiven him anyways:

John is, at heart, deeply angry--like most characters in the series, and like a lot of people who grew up in poverty, especially if they managed to escape it. He also has some deep sense of justice, and deep sense of judgment.

So we have this cycle of related emotions and ideas: Justice, judgment, outrage. And a human measure of selfishness, amorality, double standards, etc.

In one situation, this allows him to throw himself completely into the cryo project, something that (if it hadn't been sabotaged politically) could have made a difference to humanity. He brings in people who work to make it even better, who demonstrably want to make the outcome as just and humane as possible. It's also implied that this is part of why he received those powers; "I chose you to change."

(And, I'll be honest, one of the other things that I see that chafes me is the implication that there was nothing about John to recommend him to the Earth. I'm actually of the opinion that there was; she chose him, and I don't think she just rolled a d100 or drew a card off a tarot deck and called him up. John is also still a human, flawed person.)

Then, the situation changes. It's no longer an issue of dedicating expertise to solve a problem; this is a political issue, and specifically of rich people using their resources to shift outcomes towards the one they think will benefit them the most, that will secure their survival, explicitly at the expense of everyone else.

And their strategy is, profoundly: short-sighted and unnecessary (pooling resources would help create a better outcome for everyone, including the rich, by reducing global trauma and preserving more of the systems that already structure their world); bigoted and uninformed (many rich people think that the world has to be a certain way, generally that the world is violent, competitive, dog-eat-dog, etc., and someone has to be "on top", and there will always have to be a loser, or lots of losers); and utterly cruel, unjust, and pointless.

And John--John, who grew up poor, who grew up aware of the despair around him and the injustice of his position and more than likely made use of that anger to achieve what he had up to this point--John is so angry.

Because they're all the same. They're all the same. It's the same song, over and over again, no matter how stupid and pointless and unnecessary. He is certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it doesn't have to be this way. He passes judgment.

But John is losing to them, because he doesn't have the resources they do. He can hate them and fight them all he wants, and it doesn't matter, because he's nowhere near in the same league as they are politically.

And then, after the cryo project is cancelled, he gains his powers.

The thing about anger and judgment is that the deeper it runs, often, the more invested the person who holds that anger in themselves is in not seeing what they hate in themselves. E.g: John has conceptualized the people he's resisting as fundamentally unjust, cruel, amoral, and bigoted. There's a very good chance--to different degrees, depending on the person--that becoming aware of similar traits in himself might wake up those feelings he has towards those other people--aimed at himself (that is, cognitive dissonance). He can't see the things he's passed judgment on in himself and function. He's not like them; he's trying to fix things, to bring about justice.

Of course, there's justice as in "living in a just society", and justice as in "justice for the dead". But that's a later realization, because right now, everyone is still alive.

So John hides those parts of himself; from himself, from other people. So thoroughly he can exclude it from his consciousness and pretend it doesn't exist. He thinks no one sees the real depth of his own rage, his own cutthroat pursuit of a solution. And then, when he can't pretend it doesn't exist, he can still pretend to be the man he thinks they need him to be. He can "fool" them. He can say--he's trying. He screwed up. He doesn't know what he's doing.

And then, Casseiopeia says, No, actually, we know you, and we know you're horribly vindictive. And we're on your side--we're on the same side--our fight is your fight--and we love you. But your drive for revenge is seriously limiting your ability to imagine and create a living, just world, and that's what we're fighting for. Remember? That's what we set out to create.

And John's brain can't quite handle this; he can't imagine that they could actually see him and still be on his side. Because he couldn't see that and still be on his side. He can't forgive; he can't imagine forgiveness.

He can't see the things he's passed judgment on in himself and function.

And, by this stage, in some ways, it's already too late to change course. But this is one of several "come to Jesus" (no pun intended) moments where John could become aware of alternatives, or could change his behavior--and doesn't.

And I think this is where we get that self-awareness from, the thing that makes him creepy and tragic but also infuriating: He is aware, but apparently that's not enough to stop him from being his worst self--so is he just pretending to be moral? Capable of making different choices but choosing not to? And the weird statements he makes later:

This is, imo, not a power-hungry dictator who genuinely doesn't care about the cost of his throne, or a gleefully predatory abuser. This is a dude who's committed to a course of action and doesn't feel great about it. This is a guy who has violated his own sense of justice and has to live with it.

This is a guy who set out to save the world, killed it, and now the only thing that's left to him is to avenge it.

And like, from a mythology standpoint, that is exactly what the Erinyes are, like the Furies and Alecto. They are not the justice of Apollo or Athena. They are screaming for blood. They are hunting their quarry to the ends of the universe. They are chthonic.

Again: This isn't what Cassieopeia or Christabel said to him. This is what John has said to himself. This came from him. This is a reflection of what he believes.

And it encapsulates, exactly, why he erased their memories. Why he took away their agency.

The difference between him and many, many people is he had the power of a god and no one to check him when he was struggling with his own worst impulses. And then, he created a world where no one could, not just because then he could do what he wanted and pretend to be kind and loving and moral, but so that he would never have to lose the love of the people he needed.

Because, unfortunately, he still needed them.

It just took ten thousand years for the lie to unravel.

[cosmerelists]

If the Stormlight Archive Novels Were Rewritten From a New Perspective...

I'm thinking here of, like, a Secret History type thing where the same events that are detailed in the regular SA novels are rewritten from the perspective of a character who didn't previously narrate them. Like a fun little set of novellas that Sanderson could probably write on his coffee break or something...

[Warning: Big Stormlight Archive spoilers throughout!!]

1. Way of Kings...as told by Sadeas

I don't think we really got any POV from Sadeas in Way of Kings, since that would have spoiled the whole "planning-to-betray-Dalinar" thing. So I think it would be pretty nifty to see those events from a Sadeas' POV. We'd get to see what kind of info was filtering up about Kaladin and Bridge 4--like, what DID Sadeas think when he heard that the random bridgeman tied up in the storm survived? What was the scene like after Kaladin's side carry ruined that battle and Sadeas decided to execute the lighteyes in charge?

And what was Sadeas' inner monologue like during his every interaction with Dalinar? I want to see Sadeas and Ialai plotting before every feast, and then hear Sadeas inwardly rolling his eyes while pretending that he's just working for the good of the kingdom, totally not undermining Dalinar, nope nope.

And I'd love to see Sadeas' thoughts during the scenes post-betrayal with, like, Navani coming into Sadeas' camp to set fire to the giant Justice glyph and Dalinar showing up to trade his shardeblade for the bridgemen. Give me the Sadeas/Ialai scene that evening plz.

2. Words of Radiance...as told by Renarin

Here again, we have a book where a POV must be omitted in order not to spoil the ending: in this case, the late-book reveal that Renarin is a Knight Radiant as well. And I'm sure I'm not alone in wanting to know what that whole book was like for Renarin!

How and when did Renarin meet Glys? What was the bonding like? How hard was it for Renarin to put on his armor & grab the screaming shardblade to join the 4 v. 1 duel to save his brother? Give me the angst of Renarin being convinced there there is something wrong with him, that he literally cannot fight the way he wants to even while he becomes a Radiant.

And um, what about scrawling the words on the walls during his dad's visions? I still want to know just how Renarin pulled that off without being noticed and also what the hell was he thinking?? I'd like to see him grapple with the angst of being a prophet in a world where that's sacrilegious, yet trying to pass the message anyway.

And just as a tiny note, does anybody else remember when Dalinar, Kaladin, and Shallan are having their We Are The Knights Radiant meeting at the top of Urithiru and then Renarin just like appears out of the shadows to be like "me too?" I kinda want to again know what he was thinking, lurking behind them literally all the way to the top before revealing himself at the most dramatic moment.

Anyway. I bet we'll get some of this in the Renarin book in the back half of Stormlight -- or at least, I hope so!

3. Oathbringer...as told by Jasnah

I bet you all are seeing the pattern here, ha ha! I think Jasnah's POV is restricted in Oathbringer because (a) she's supposed to be dead and (b) she knows about the humans being the actual Voidbringers and that can't be revealed immediately. But in a retelling, I'd love to see her tell-all.

What was that journey to Urithiru like with Wit? If we could get some flashbacks to her time in Shadesmar, that would be great, even though that's technically WOR again.

What was her inner monologue interacting with Shallan again? We know how it was for Shallan (suuuper awkward), but what did Jasnah think? What was it like to get to see Urithiru after she'd spent so much time researching it?

And it would be super interesting to get more of the relationship between Jasnah and her cousin Renarin. Like, when did Jasnah figure out that Renarin's spren was corrupted? When did she decide to kill him?

I think any and all extra Jasnah POVs from this period would be fascinating.

4. Rhythm of War...as told by Rlain

I was torn as to whether to have Rlain for Oathbringer or for Rhythm of War, but ultimately went with the latter. To be fair, we do get Rlain POV sections in ROW, but I want MORE.

If I remember correctly (it's been a minute since I last read ROW), we get a lot of Rlain's narrative from other characters' POV: like Kaladin or Venli interacting with Rlain and hearing about what he's been up to. Like "Oh yeah I've been spying and I found these maps" or "Oh yeah I've been working here with your family for a few days" and I want all of that to be told in long-form narrative please. ESPECIALLY Rlain hanging out with Kaladin's parents and little brother. I can't even remember anymore if him and Hesina being best friends is canon or fanon but I'd like to see it, plz.

I want to see more of Rlain being a spy, his angst about being in between Listeners and Humans, and his double agent heroism. I'd like to see more of his thoughts about Venli, maybe some flashbacks to his interactions among the Listeners back in the day.

And while I don't know if Renarin and Rlain interact at all really in ROW, I'll take any and all of Rlain's thoughts on Renarin and any scrap of interaction that could be woven in.

5. Bonus: Any Book...as told by Hesina

Honestly, I think a Hesina retelling of any of the 4 books would be awesome.

Way of Kings? We're gonna see the family interactions and the Roshone conflict from Hesina's perspective, not to mention the probably horrible aftermath of both of her sons being sent to war and then dying.

Words of Radiance? Uh...honestly I don't know what Hesina was up to during the events of that book but she had baby Oroden and I bet she was doing other stuff too.

Oathbringer? We get to see Kaladin's return from Hesina's perspective--Lirin was grumpy about him being a "killer" now, but I seem to recall that Hesina had awespren around her.

Rhythm of War? Let's see the move to Urithiru, settling in, her teasing Lirin about him worrying that surgeons won't be needed anymore... Plus, PLEASE give me Hesina's perspective on Kaladin's actions, on the invasion, on her very real and deep friendship with Rlain!

Yeah!

[mal3vol3nt]

Hi. You’re probably tired of seeing me dump stuff like this. (I’ll try to make this the last time). But I have to vent to someone. Because I see this one guy, claim to not hate Aang, only to villainize him to a ridiculous extent, acting like he’s unempathetic, forcing Katara to tend to his emotional needs and this user completely downplays Aang’s genocidal trauma. Not to be rude, but how much of a heartless prick do you have to be to invalidate genocide and the trauma it can cause. These fake fans should honestly keep their mouths shut about this show, they clearly don’t understand it.

the southern raiders episode needs to be freed from the zutara fandom i swear. i’m fully convinced they never actually watched that episode cause it literally ends with katara saying she still didn’t forgive yon rha and aang accepting that. he literally says “im proud of you”. it was never her anger at the man that aang disagreed with, it was the action she planned on doing—murder—that he wanted to talk her down from. not for yon rha’s sake, but for her’s. so even though she didn’t forgive him, aang respected that and was able to recognize the strength and validity in her decision. i’m so tired of repeating this rebuttal to this stupid as fuck argument

aang doesn’t force her to do anything in the entire series. katara has her own agency and free will to do as she pleases and not a single character has ever taken that away from her, and the one time where her freedom was threatened (by pakku), she fought for it and ensured she got her way. when yall say aang takes her agency away from her, you’re also ignoring the core traits of katara: her fierceness, her determination, her ability to recognize what’s right for herself, and her sense of justice

she never blindly follows or takes direction from anyone. when aang tried telling her and sokka to stay put while he made the trip to see roku in the fire nation, katara (and sokka) put her foot down and refused to listen. she demanded that they go with him, and he accepted them making that choice for themselves. when sokka tried convincing her to leave after she met up with haru and they had the chance to escape from the fire nation ship, she refused and said she wasn’t abandoning the rest of the earthbenders. her decision was respected by both aang and sokka. in fact, there are so many instances of her making her own decisions regardless of what anyone else says that it would be impossible for me to list them all. she never succumbs to what aang or anyone else wants, and she always makes her genuine thoughts on an important decision known. katara does not need anyone to tell her what to do nor does she allow anyone to tell her what to do. this is the same girl who single handedly changed the “no girls allowed” rule in the northern water tribe after having been told “you can’t do that”. yall think she would let aang walk all over her??? please put some respect on her name

now this may be a controversial take but i don’t care it’s the truth: comparing sokka and katara losing their mom to aang losing his entire culture and people is actually insane and insensitive but not for the reason zutaras think. its because absolutely nothing any other character went through can compare to what aang did, and to diminish his tragedy by saying katara’s trauma surrounding her mom’s death is somehow worse is actual insanity and i need yall to go to prison LMAO

katara did not witness her mom get murdered. that only happened in natla and i refuse to acknowledge that. she ran out of the tent to go tell her dad that a fire nation soldier was with their mom and when she came back, the man was gone and kya was dead. still insanely traumatic, but she was not literally standing there watching as kya burned to death

that’s literally what happened with aang. from his perspective, he had just seen gyatso only a few hours ago. gyatso was alive literally moments ago in his mind and then he was greeted with his decayed skeleton among the bodies of unwelcome fire nation soldiers. just like katara experienced insane whiplash from that heartbreaking change, to see someone alive only to come back to them gone, aang went through roughly the same thing

the only difference is aang didn’t just lose gyatso, he lost all his friends and mentors as well. and he didn’t just lose all his friends and mentors, he lost every single person who looked like him. and he didn’t just lose every single person who looked like him, he lost everyone he had grown close to and seen from the other nations. and he didn’t just lose everyone he had grown close to and seen from the other nations, he lost the animals native to the airbending temples. and he didn’t just lose the animals native to the airbending temples, he lost the native plants as well. and he didn’t just lose the native plants, he lost the structural beauty and integrity of the air temples. and he didn’t just lose the structural beauty and integrity of the air temples, he lost the ability to practice his cultural customs with others. and he didn’t just lose the ability to practice his cultural customs with others, he lost the ability to bend his native element with others. and he didn’t just lose the ability to bend his native element with others, he lost the time to mourn for all that he lost

i’m sorry to those of you who wanna believe your favs have suffered more than anyone else in the series, but none of their tragedies compare to aang’s. and i don’t believe in downplaying what the others went through to support a fandom narrative, but this is literally just me acknowledging the severity of aang’s story. to suggest any one else has gone through more is to be ignorant and nothing anyone can say will ever convince me otherwise

only reason yall think zuko or katara or sokka or toph or azula or whoever the fuck else is more tragic than aang is because all of their traumas are more relatable to the everyday person whereas aang’s is something that most people can’t even comprehend

[goosewriting]

I have an inq!cal thought!

Reader and cal both having a crush on the other when they were both on the mantis and just when they finally admit it to the other and get together something happens and cal is presumed to be dead but actually he’s been captured by the empire and turned into an inquisitor and then during a mission reader is on she runs into cal 👀

And like it could be a good ending OR Cal’s conditioning wins and he kisses reader as he runs them through after reader says they can’t fight him and like uh I am very partial to the angst ending

The Bad Ending

summary: years after thinking Cal is dead, reader meets him again as an Inquisitor. 

relationship: inquisitor!Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: mention of character death, also actual character death (ahem, you, ahem), yummy angst

word count: 3k

A/N: i too, am very partial to the angst ending so, bon appetit 😌 no but seriously this has been sitting in my wips for FAR too long, i really loved this idea so i hope i made it justice! thank you sm for requesting and the patience dearest anon<3

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Somewhere in the Outer Rim, it’s early dawn on a small, often overlooked planet. The first rays of sun hit your face as you’re helping a fellow resistance fighter in loading a truck with some supplies, and it makes you squint. You stop your motions to block the light with your hand held to your forehead, and for a split second, you see a head of red hair in the corner of your eye. Your body reacts on its own, immediately turning and craning your neck to find him. But it’s a false alarm, obviously. The ginger human gives you a weird look as you’re staring, then shrugs their shoulders and keeps walking. 

Heaving a sigh, you load the last of the crates, shaking your head at yourself in embarrassment. It’s already been years since you last saw him. Since you saw any of them. The crew of the Stinger Mantis.

You can’t help the small smile on your face when you think back to everything that you went through together. All the adventures, the missions…the sneaking out. Stolen glances here and there, lingering touches that may have meant something more, making the most of every moment because you knew it could be the last. Except that you didn’t actually believe that. All of you knew how risky the missions were, aware of the dangers that seemed to loom around every corner. But you hoped to, wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. None of you was invincible, you knew that. But to think that he would just be… gone. It still stings. 

When retrieving the Holocron on Bogano, the Second Sister confronted Cal in the vault, except that you never saw him come out. By then, the Stormtroopers had overrun the place, so you had to leave. But you came back, multiple times, searching for him. Every time unsuccessful. 

At some point, you came to terms with the fact that she had probably killed him in the vault, a place you couldn’t access as you’re not Force sensitive. The thought of Cal being in there, bleeding out, alone, BD probably also dismantled by the Imperials… The thought makes you shiver to this day.

Losing Cal took a toll on everyone, and it didn’t take long for the Mantis crew to split up after that. Cere took it particularly badly, blaming herself for the failures, both with Trilla and Cal. Ever since then, you’ve never seen or heard of either Cere or Greez again. So you were on your own. 

You’ve been lying low, helping out more from behind the scenes instead of getting into the action like back then. But you can’t deny the fact that you miss Cal every single day. Despite knowing that you’ll never see him again, you can’t help but wonder “what if”. Back then, you two had something going on. You were actually planning on confessing to him after you safely got off Bogano with the Holocron. But those plans were cut short by one very grumpy Inquisitor. You still regret not having told him sooner, as you were fairly certain he felt the same way. To this day, you still dream with Cal at night, picturing what life would be like if he was there with you.

Shaking your head to focus on the task at hand, you look down at the fruit you’ve been holding in your hand. You were so lost in thought, you didn’t even notice that the loaded truck was long gone, and your feet brought you to the city market. The vendor at the stall you’re standing at looks at you suspiciously, so you shoot them a quick smile and put the fruit back into the basket, then stroll to the next stand.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you force yourself to shove the painful memories aside to make room for a mental plan. The rebellion is growing every day, and that means the amount of mouths to feed is increasing as well, so you’re to get provisions at the market. Other supplies like tools and machinery parts were sent off just earlier. The food you’d bring yourself to a hidden spot where your contact told you they’d pick it up. You just have to find a way to smuggle it all out of there unseen by the imperial troops, who walk around the place in regular patrols.

You actually have your suspicions that your contact is either a Jedi themselves, or someone who’s working closely with one, as there’s been rumours here and there about someone with mystic powers having arrived in the village. No matter if they’re true or not, you really hope the rumours will settle down quickly, as it will undoubtedly attract unwanted attention.

After you’re done with your shopping spree, you look at your haul, which occupies several large crates. You grimace slightly, as it’s more than you anticipated. Maybe you can ask that one farmer who owes you a favour if you can borrow his cart, since you can’t carry all of this on your speeder. Getting your holopad out of your satchel, you double-check the drop-off place, and conclude that hiding the crates there will be quick work. The problem is the cart itself; hopefully with enough hay you’ll be able to cover them all to go by unnoticed. 

So that’s exactly what you do. The farmer is more than happy to help, and you feel a little bad knowing that you’re about to leave his cart at the pick-up spot, then tell him that there was an accident and it broke down, getting swept away by the river which conveniently ends in a waterfall not far away. You’ll pay him for the cart of course, but even so… you’re essentially lying to his face. While in this case, the end does justify the means, this part of the job still doesn’t get any easier for you. 

It’s the same afternoon when you’re loading up the cart. The animal pulling it is tame and knows you, so you bring some extra treats for her. Once you’re done putting on the harness and hiding your crates, you head out. It’s a sunny day, and except for the occasional bleating, the clicking of your tongue and the clinking of the reins, there's not much else. 

The air is calm, and you allow yourself to hum a little tune to yourself. As you arrive at a narrow passage between two walls of stone that leads into the valley, the path turns a sharp corner and you can’t really see ahead. Only once you fully turn are you able to take in the image before you, and your blood runs cold in your veins. Not far in front of you, there’s a shuttle parked on the road, blocking your way, and half a dozen Stormtroopers stand with their loaded weapons. You pull on the reins, wanting to turn her around, but as you look behind you, you see more troopers blocking the other way as well.

You bring the cart to a halt instead and turn back to the front, reaching for the blaster under your seat, when from behind the shuttle you see two dark figures appear: an Inquisitor, followed by a Purge Trooper. The latter approaches you in quick strides, pointing one of the two electrobatons at you.

“Get down,” comes his modulated but demanding voice through the helmet.

You hesitate for a second, unsure of what to do. Biting the inside of your cheek, you quickly analyse the situation, concluding that while you certainly can't take on all troopers alone, let alone an Inquisitor, maybe you can make a run for it towards the thicker vegetation. You just have to make it back past the narrow passage you just came from.

“I said get down!” the Purge Trooper barks, clearly annoyed. 

“Alright, alright,” you finally respond.

You motion to stand up, as if you’re pushing yourself off your seat with your hands, but instead get your rifle from underneath and, from your elevated position, you shoot the trooper right between the shoulder and chest plates of is armour. 

He falls down to the ground with a groan, and you jump off the wagon, making a run for it. You know your rifle can penetrate the normal Stormtrooper armour, so you shoot the ones that had appeared behind you, hitting each one twice, and push past them.

You don’t look back despite hearing the other troopers closing in on you, and you duck as they shoot at you. But you know their aim is not the best, so you keep going, your lungs burning at the sudden effort. You’re just passing the treeline when something knocks you over; you seem to trip over air as you fall face first to the ground, hard. You barely manage to let go of your rifle to brace yourself, and you roll a couple of times from the speed you were coming at.

Everything spins for a moment, and you reach out to grab your weapon and keep going, but an invisible force keeps you pinned to the ground on your back. You groan in frustration and confusion, looking up to see the troopers now gathered around you aiming their blasters at you, yet not firing. They all take a step back to let the Inquisitor walk through, and you give them the best glare you can muster.

The red visor glistens, the sun reflecting on it, as they tilt their head to the side while looking at you. Then comes the modulated voice, calling your name. Not just your name, but your nickname, the one only one person ever used for you. One that you were certain you’d never hear again.

You let out a shuddering breath as you watch in horror how the Inquisitor takes off the helmet, dislodging it with a hiss, to reveal the face underneath. 

“So we meet again, after all these years,” Cal says, running his free hand through his hair, looking down at you with a sour face. “After you left me for dead.”

Your mind is reeling, unable to comprehend the situation.

“I- You-” you stumble over your words. “We didn’t leave you. We thought you were dead. We looked for you!”

He gives you a half-hearted chuckle.

“Not well enough, it seems…” he retorts. “Yeah, well, the crew never was much anyway. I work better, alone, after all.”

“You know that’s not true”, you say in a small voice, your body finally catching up to the situation, starting to shiver.

He extends his hand towards you, and you find yourself being lifted off the ground and to your feet, but slowly pushed backwards into the forest.

“Leave us,” he orders without breaking eye contact with you, and the troopers obey, putting some distance between you and them. For every step Cal walks towards you, you take one back, and after a few moments you’re surrounded by vegetation, out of sight and earshot from the others. Only then does he let go of you, and you stand there for a second, looking at each other. 

Then the quiet tension becomes almost unbearable. There's so much you want to tell him, ask him. What happened in the vault? Did he ever come looking for you? Even if you never got to tell him yourself, does he know how you felt about him?

“I don’t know if it means anything to you anymore,” you finally break the silence. “But I missed you.”

He doesn’t answer, instead continuing to look at you with this unreadable, almost bored expression.

“Are you going to kill me?” you decide to ask instead, fearing the answer. 

“If you stand in my way, I might have to,” he replies, and your heart drops. “You’re not my target, though.”

“Then who is?” Your gaze falls to the ground.

“There’s been reports of a Jedi in the village,” Cal says, taking a careful step towards you. Your eyes snap back up to his, stopping him in his tracks.

“So that’s what you do now? Hunt Jedis?” You don’t try to hide the hurt in your voice.

He merely raises a brow at you, as if the answer to that is obvious. It is. 

“And you're okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were a Jedi once, too.”

“Technically, I never got knighted, so no,” he retorts with a hint of a sadistic smile.

You scoff.

“But Cere would have done it sooner or later, I’m sure…”

At the mention of the name, Cal frowns.

“Yet she didn’t,” he states coldly. He looks up into the trees with a deep breath, then picks some imaginary lint off his uniform, his face relaxing back into the nothingness from before. His eyes snap back up to meet yours as he stands still. “And she won’t.”

“W-what do you mean by that,” you ask, horrified. “Is she…”

Again, he doesn’t answer.

“D-did you…”

You see his jaw tense up, and your body runs cold, colder.

“Cal, what have you done,” you breathe, barely audible, and bring your hands up to hide your face. You can feel the tears prickling at the back of your eyes, and you try your best to hold them back.

“I only did what must be done,” he answers matter-of-factly, then takes a step towards you, but you take a quick one back. He stops again. “So what were you planning on doing, exactly? Run away?”

You shift uncomfortably.

“I would have found you either way, just like I did now.”

“I thought I wasn’t your target,” you retort. 

“And you aren’t,” he assures you. “But after finding out you’re here, I just wanted… to see you.”

“Why,” you mutter, not really meant as a question. “After all this time. Not like this.”

He takes another slow step towards you, and this time you don't have it in you to back away. Your tears are running freely now, rolling down your cheeks as you hold back a sob. Now standing right in front of you, Cal lets go of his helmet, which falls onto the grass with a soft thud. His gloved hands come up to cup your face, his thumb swiping away a tear over your cheekbone.

“I missed you,” he says in a small voice that doesn’t really fit with his current image.

“And I missed you,” you choke out, placing your hands over his. “So, so much.”

You look into his eyes, now a fiery yellow, and the sight is so unfamiliar, so cold, that you can’t hold his gaze for long, and it falls back down, but you don’t want to look at his black armour either, so you look to the side instead. Your hands still hold his in place, though.

“I really thought you were dead, Cal, but this…” you manage to say after taking several shaky breaths. “An Inquisitor… This is no way to live. It’s not you. We can escape together. Start over. Whatever they did to you, we’ll undo it layer by layer. Please.”

“I’m afraid that's not possible,” he says, dropping one hand while the other moves from your cheek to your chin, making you look at him, and he studies your face for a moment. “But I can’t let you go either. You're working with the resistance fighters, aren't you.”

“I- I’m continuing where we left off, just in a different way.”

“So you are working with the Jedi, and as such against the Empire.”

His hand goes to the back of your neck, holding you in place, and a strange panic starts to settle in your limbs as you realise you can’t move away from his hold. Cal is so close now that you can feel his breath fanning over your cheek.

“If I let you go, will you shoot me?” he asks in a low voice.

You want to scoff, but it’s more of a teary-eyed huff.

“I could never, Cal. I- I loved you,” you tilt up your face to properly look him in the eyes. “I never stopped loving you. I still do.”

He tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, his brows furrowing, then scrunching upwards in the middle, as if he just remembered something painful.

“So do I,” he whispers. 

You let out a sob, broken-hearted. All this time. All this time and he felt the same, was alive. But now he’s… an Inquisitor. A killing machine, fed by his own pain and anger, a tool used by the Empire to eradicate any remaining traces of hopefulness that people still might harbour.

“I can’t fight you,” he finally says.

“Neither can I,” you assure him.

Then he leans in, kissing you hard, and your mind is reeling. He holds you in place with the hand at your nape, your own coming up to hold his face. He kisses you like he’s making up for lost time, pouring his very being into it, and you reciprocate.

Somewhere in your mind, the metallic clink and the pressure against your side got registered, but with the kiss, it’s too much input to make sense of anything else. 

Cal breaks the kiss and pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, and you see a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“But I can’t let you go either,” he whispers against your lips, voice breaking, and before you can ask what he means, you not only hear his lightsabre igniting, you feel it. 

Your mouth opens in a silent scream. Within a split second, your upper body feels on fire, and a sharp, unbearable pain prevents you from breathing or thinking straight. You hear your own flesh sizzle as Cal retracts his weapon after running it through you. Even though your legs give in, he holds your full weight, embracing you, and slowly kneels down, bringing you down with him gently.

“C-Cal,” you gasp for air as your lungs burn quite literally, everything around you getting blurry.

“I’m sorry,” he says over and over, caressing your cheek softly as he kisses you again. 

With your last effort, your hand comes up to hold his, but it goes limp before it can do so, falling onto the ground. Cal cries into your shoulder, holding your limp body for a long time, until it turns cold.

~~~~~

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