#too busy winning justice for his dead family

[writers-potion]

Plot Templates for Dark Fiction

MC hears about danger and mocks it as unreal, and ses out to prove that it's not real. He enlists the helps of a loyal but reluctant friend/servant/colleague/lover. -> Things get stranger and they fall into real danger -> MC fights the threat, narrowly getting away with his life. -> The danger gets even worse -> The threat is defeated, and the friend often pays a terrible price.

A danger threats the MC's community and he is the only one who can defeat it -> First Failure -> Second Failure -> She learns something important, and wins.

MC wants to belong to a community (secret society, gang, etc.) -> He works to convince the others that he is worthy of being a member -> He is granted initiation -> He works harder to be taken into the Inner Circle -> He realizes that the community is evil -> Will he go ahead or back out? (A) End with the realization (B) His conscience wins and he sacrifices himself (C) He decides to go ahead, enjoying the evil.

He devotes himself to fighting the evil -> She makes sacrifices for the good -> She realizes that what she has fought for is actually evil, and the people around her were right.

An innocent MC observes the actions of others -> The reader picks up on the subtext that there's something evil while the MC goes around, naive.

MC is urged by a friend not to pursue a dangerous venture -> The venture turns out to be harder than it seemed -> He barely escapes from the danger and seeks help -> Help does not arrive and the MC fights against the menace -> the friend/traitor falls into their own trap they've laid for the MC

Newly dead MC wakes undead as a ghost/zombie/vampire -> He has unfinished business to conclude and sets out for his mission -> He meets unexpected obstacles in the world of the undead -> He realizes something new and forfeits the initial mission

MC is obsessed hunting a monster/evil creature -> He nearly dies but prevails -> He takes a trophy home but realizes that the monster had got to his family first -> His triumph becomes meaningless

MC believes that an evil creature/monster is actually innocent -> She sets out to win its trust and tames it -> She succeeds and lets her guard down -> The monster attacks her

MC wants to overcome a personal fear -> He succeeds after many attempts -> He realizes that in this instance he should have listened to his instincts - he has become an easy victim

MC is a semi-sympathetic character whom the reader can understand, but not quite like -> He obsessively plots to get the justice/love he thinks he deserves -> He realies he has falledn into his won trap/walked into a rival's similar trap -> He tries desperately to escape -> MC dies knowing that he obsessions have brought his own demise.

MC is a righteous character -> She lands in a situation with only two options, which are immoral.

MC plots to bring the downfall of another character -> He is betrayed by his most trusted friend

MC schemes to trap another person -> She realizes too late that she has been outsmarted/fallen into her own trap

These are some common plot progressions, so feel free to explore with other types!

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[hughungrybear]

So, I guess the original timeline goes something like this:

1. Korn and Tonkla are lovers. Korn has also just inherited the illegal online gambling business from his dad. Meanwhile, Great and Title are bffs.

2. Great committed a hit-and-run against the woman in Ep 1. No hints whether she survived the incident.

3. Dome witnessed Title abducting the gf and made everyone know through their class GC. Title retaliates and kidnaps Dome.

4. Great became an accomplice/witness in killing Dome. Dome's body was later found and processed by the police led by Win. As a result, Win meets Tonkla at the morgue.

5. Korn's leadership was sabotaged by outside forces leading to him asking for help from Fah's dad. He ignores Tonkla's desperate attempts to reach out while he solves the family business' problems (and fucking Fah as payment, quid pro quo). Also, a shareholder was assassinated.

6. Win was removed as lead investigator by his superior. Probably because it was hinted that Tle's family is as rich and powerful (maybe moreso) as Great's parents. Win and Tonkla become lovers, with Win promising he'll continue investigating Dome's death for Tonkla's sake. Korn gets kicked out of Tonkla's house (and life). Win also meets a possible witness (the GF's friend in previous eps) and gets threaten in the process.

7. Tonkla (for reasons undisclosed yet) learned who killed his brother and proceeded to do some quick street justice on Tle (involving paying a girl to drug him to sleep so that Tonkla can bash his head in). Win finds a body with the same head injuries as Dome's. Meanwhile the same superior who told him to get off Dome's case is now harassing him for being too slow in solving this one, which tracks if that was really Tle's body they found. He also got a name on the murder prints (though we don't know whose it is).

8. Nan is secretly working with Tyme to bring the Sriwat Cargo Business down. She sleeps with the creepy ass manager but gets caught and shot while trying to gain more evidence.

Now, this is where it gets murky with the new timeline. Ignoring the 4-minute time loops in between, we have:

1. Great calls an ambulance on the woman he accidentally ran over. She survives but she also eventually hires a killer (Ep 5) who shoots both Great and his mother dead (or near death, as in Great's case), which brings us to the first minute of Ep 1

2. The family convinces Great to visit the woman where he meets Tyme. Tyme learns who Great is and decides to be close to him for revenge.

3. Great saves Dome and brings him to the hospital. Great and Tyme becomes officially acquainted. Tyme also saves Great from vengeful Tle.

4. Dome wakes up on a hospital bed. Curiously, nobody called Tonkla despite Dome being confined in the hospital for (what looks like) a few days. He did not visit his beloved brother in the hospital nor picked him up when he was discharged. We see Dome riding a taxi and talking to Tonkla on the phone. But when he gets off the taxi and greets Tonkla, he vanishes (just like the cat in Ep 1). In this sense, both Dome and the cat were like echoes to Tonkla. We don't see Tonkla in this new timeline. He is, for all intents and purposes, stuck in the original timeline.

5. Great keeps seeing things related to Tyme that had not happened outside the 4-minutes (i.e., seeing them have sex when he bumped Tyme in the hospital, reading "can you forgive me" on that note attached on the cup of Thai tea instead of "Don't forget to go to the hospital".

6. Great and Tyme go on a sweet date involving claw machines and ends the day with a(n almost) kiss.

7. Nan calls Tyme while trying to escape. Tyme dares to attack Korn but gets identified by Great in the process.

I feel like there is something to be said on Tyme's tendency to prolong the "inevitable" just like Den accused him of doing with a dying patient in this ep. Coupled by the fact that Tyme doesn't seemed to sleep (based on the off-cut remark from the janitor in the gym is Ep 2), it seems Tyme somehow holds the key to this whole mess.

Also, why is Tonkla absent in the new timeline?

[nicoline1998enilocin]

I have a request for loki x fem!reader based on wandavision, where the reader is dead because of endgame or infinity war instead of loki, and he is not taking it well like AT ALL So one day, he storms in s.h.i.e.l.d and demands a funeral for the reader but they refuse. So he drives somewhere in Westview and just full-on cries and falls to his knees cause she gone and just yells out all his anger and loss and creates a whole reality and brings the reader back. And you know his happy with her but doesn't know that he took thousands of people hostage and their feeling his pain, and he doesn't even realize it. So he likes haves kids in the fake reality, and sword tries to get him to take it down, but of course, he doesn't until reader finds out about it all sensing about how their kids are the only ones in Westview and loki tries telling her their probably all sleeping or their all in their rooms but reader doesn't believe him and since the reader was so smart before she died she realizes that he trapped a whole town to recreate her and she tells him that she has to take the whole thing down but loki begs her because he doesn't want to leave his family but she tells him that it's alright and he takes it down and sees how much pain he put the people of Westview through. And then he creates another reality where his reading THE DARKHOLD. hope this is acceptable 🙏 😌.

Living our 'perfect' life | Part 1

PAIRING | Fiancé!Loki Laufeyson x Fiancée!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.2K

SUMMARY | You won the fight against Thanos, but you weren't there to celebrate with all the others, since you didn't get to see it through to the end. Loki doesn't take it well and is hellbent on giving you the proper send-off you deserve, but when SHIELD dismisses him he goes on a warpath to get you back, and he doesn't care who he takes with him in his pain. All he wants is to live the life he desperately wanted, with you by his side.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. This fanfiction takes place right after the battle against Thanos in Avengers: Endgame, but the events I discuss definitely aren’t canon but just my imagination. Major angst, swearing, character death, nervous breakdown.

A/N | Thank you so so SO much for this amazing request @glitteryeggalmondherring, it gave me goosebumps from the moment I read it, and it gave me so many ideas I couldn’t wait to get started! This will be split into two parts, otherwise, it would be too long and I want each part to have its own storyline.

I hope that I could do your request justice and I hope you will enjoy what I wrote. I wasn't able to get through this without crying constantly because I felt so bad for Loki, so I will apologize in advance to anyone who couldn't get through this without tears! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | Part 2

Everyone around the two of you is celebrating, because you won the battle against Thanos. Not the two of you, however. You can't celebrate anymore, because you didn't get the chance to see the end of the fight, you were one of many casualties that happened during the fight. And your fiancé Loki was holding you in his arms, clutching you closely to his chest while his sobs tore through the entire battlefield. No one seems to notice, however, because they're all too busy with their cheers, celebrations, and their big win. But not Loki, because he would never celebrate another win ever again. Not without you by his side.

''No, no, no, darling, please! Please don't leave me, I need you by my side,'' Loki sobs as he's clutching your body close to him, his head resting on your lifeless chest. No more heartbeat to be felt, no more breath to be heard, no more movement to be seen. When he looks into your eyes he sees nothing but emptiness. Staring into nothing, cold, lifeless eyes staring back at him. Those eyes he fell in love with years ago, that always showed nothing but love for him, that looked at him with nothing but adoration, but that could also be looking so good when you were completely fucked out underneath or on top of him.

''Y/n, please,'' is the last thing he says as he holds you close to him. He can't talk anymore due to how much he's been crying, his throat is completely raw and his voice is practically non-existent. He screamed so much, heart-wrenching screams and cries could be heard for miles and miles, yet no one cared. No one but him, or so he thought. Because looking from a small distance was Thor because Loki isn't the only one who lost you that faithful day, Thor lost the woman he loved like his sister, but he's keeping his pain inside, trying to be strong for Loki. He allowed a few tears to stream down his cheeks, but he quickly got himself back together as he walked over to his brother.

''Brother, she's gone. There's nothing we can do for her,'' he says, almost matter-of-factly, and it scares Loki a little. Usually, he was the one who was cold, direct, and didn't care about what others felt. But when it comes to you, he would give everything to be in your place. You deserved to live such a long life, but you didn't get the chance. You don't get to live the life you'd always dreamt of, the one you and Loki have talked about so many times. The one that got ripped away from you without a second thought. Loki could do nothing but sob, he couldn't think, he couldn't speak, he could barely breathe. The crying has taken over his entire being as he softly places kisses all over your face as a last goodbye.

Loki knows he has to leave you behind, but he can't get himself to do it. He can't get himself to set you down, get up and walk away. Doing that would mean goodbye. And he isn't ready for that, he would never be ready to say goodbye to the love of his life. ''I can't,'' he whispers, and Thor just sits down by his side. He knows that there is no point in convincing him otherwise. Shortly after, the other Avengers are slowly sitting around the two of you in a big circle. Everyone is either crying, looking at you and Loki, or holding each other tight as they're starting to accept the fact that their teammate is no longer with them.

No one says anything, just letting Loki do what he has to to let you go. But he can't, he will never be able to let you go, because this goodbye wasn't supposed to happen. He had closed your eyes by now because he wasn't able to look at your eyes without feeling a sharp pain across his chest. He did notice all the Avengers surrounding the two of you, and he felt like your entire family was here, grieving you. He knows he isn't alone in this, but it hurts him so much, he can't think about anything else but you. Your smile, your laughter, your mischievous looks, oh how he loved those looks when you thought of a new plan to annoy or prank someone.

That is exactly the reason he fell for you, and he fell hard. Literally. Because when you were relatively new to the Avengers, you heard about the God of Mischief himself and immediately thought of a plan to prank him. It was such a simple, stupid trick but it worked wonders every single time, and you almost peed yourself from laughter when it worked. You were in the kitchen and told everyone who was there, that you hung a string in the hallway to the kitchen, except for Loki. All the others noticed it and stepped over it, but Loki didn't, and since he was in a heated discussion with Thor (who almost tripped too, thank you very much), he never noticed it and fell flat on his face, a deep groan leaving his chest as he went down, and a loud thud could be heard when he made contact with the floor.

You immediately started laughing so hard your stomach started to hurt, and you could barely breathe, laying on the floor trying to catch your breath, and it was the most wonderful thing Loki had ever seen. When he got up he wanted to get mad, but when he saw you it all melted away instantly, and he knew he was a goner from that moment on. ''So, you're the one who pulled this little stunt?'' Loki asked when you were finally able to breathe again, and you nodded with a wide smile. ''I can't believe I managed to get the literal God of Mischief with such a single prank!'' you said. ''I'm Y/N Y/L/N btw, it's nice to meet you,'' you said with an outstretched hand, which he took in his hand and brought to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. ''Loki Laufeyson, it's an absolute honor to meet you,''.

When he thought back to that moment he smiled a little through his tears, shaking his head. ''You always loved to prank people,'' he whispered to you, as best as he could. ''And I loved you even more because of it,'' he said, remembering everything you did, either with or without him. Because when the two of you were together, no one in the Compound would be safe. ''I'm going to miss her,'' Steve said finally, and everyone agreed. ''We all love her, Loki, always remember that. She fought and died doing what she loved, and we will always love her. She will always be one of us, and I promise that she will never be forgotten,'' he then said, making Loki nod softly as he placed one more kiss on your forehead. ''I love you, darling. I promise that I will find you in every single lifetime after this one,'' and with those words, he set you down and got up. Walking away, because he couldn't handle staying there any longer.

~ One week after the battle ~

The last week has been hard for Loki, he barely came out of his room and hasn't eaten anything since he arrived back at the Compound. He hasn't talked to anyone either, he was grieving the loss of the woman he was going to marry soon. A marriage that would never take place now, and it ate away at him. The Avengers just let him be, only Thor came to check up on him every few hours. ''I'm going to get her the funeral she deserves,'' Loki suddenly says, already thinking of the plan that he was going to use. ''She doesn't deserve to just be shoved into a mass grave with all the other people that died,'' he said, tears staining his cheeks again. He has barely stopped crying, the only moments he didn't cry were when exhaustion took over his body and lulled him into a restless sleep filled with nightmares.

It isn't long after that, that Loki barges into the SHIELD headquarters, dead set on getting you the funeral you deserve, because you died a hero. He searched the entire building until he finally found the person he was looking for, the one and only Nicholas Joseph Fury himself. ''She needs to get the funeral she deserves, she doesn't get to be thrown into a fucking mass grave with all these other nameless people like she meant nothing,'' Loki said, raising his voice at Fury immediately. He wasn't fazed in the slightest, however, and didn't react to Loki. ''Do you fucking hear me? She died a hero to save all our asses, she doesn't deserve what she got!'' he yells at him and Fury finally looked up at the God.

''No, she doesn't get one. She may have fought just like the rest of them, but I know for sure she didn't die a hero,'' he says. ''She doesn't get a funeral, because no one who died that day gets a funeral, and your fiancée isn't going to be the exception to this rule,'' he says and Loki can't believe this. ''You're fucking kidding me, right? She died so we had a chance to live. She died so we could win the battle, which is more than can be said about you. YOU WEREN'T EVEN THERE!'' Loki says before storming out of Fury's office, wreaking havoc wherever he goes, destroying the building with his magic, and not giving a single damn about anyone that gets injured.

When he's outside he just opens a random car with his magic, gets into the driver's seat, and turns it on. He drives far away from New York, away from the life he once lived, the life he shared with you because it is too painful to stay there and be constantly reminded of you. He drove for hours and hours until he couldn't contain his emotions anymore, and he stopped on the side of the road in a town called Westview. He got out of the car and dropped to his knees, screaming until his lungs burn, until every single muscle in his body is giving out and he falls onto the ground, his knees hitting the pavement with a loud thud. He doesn't care however, he doesn't care about the pain, because it's nothing compared to the loss he feels.

He can't contain his tears, and turns into a sobbing, screaming mess on the verge of a nervous breakdown. When he keeps thinking about you, he tips himself over the edge and a large burst of magic bursts out of him. ''FUCK, FUCK, FUUUUCK!'' is all he can scream at this point, rocking back and forth as he's almost folded into himself, his hands on the back of his head, heart-wrenching screams leaving his chest, tears streaming down his bright red face, eyes completely bloodshot from the hours and hours of crying. The exhaustion catches up with him once again and he completely blacks out on the side of the road. His body can't take anymore, and it shut down completely to save himself.

A little while later he wakes up again and is very disoriented, but as he gets up the pieces fall into place. SHIELD headquarters, the drive, his nervous breakdown, everything comes back to him. And right at that moment a thought hit him, and he's mad at himself for not thinking about this sooner. ''I'm going to bring you back, darling. I can't wait to see you again,'' he says and he creates a huge dome around himself, trapping the thousands of people in Westview inside of it, but he doesn't realize it. When the dome is created he uses his magic to create a new reality within it. He walks through the streets and when he is walking past an ice cream shop, he suddenly spots a very familiar face.

''Loki? Is that you?'' you hear as the person who the voice belongs to walks out the door, and towards him. ''Y/N, you're here,'' he sighs and he pulls you in for a big hug. You're not real, but in the fake reality Loki created you are, and the two of you are still engaged to be married. He finds it hard to believe he did it, and that he's holding you in his arms once again. When you pull back you feel his lips on yours again, and it's like not a single minute had gone by since the last time you kissed. ''I love you, so much. And I can't wait to marry you,'' you tell him, and he nods. ''Neither can I, darling. I'm looking forward to it more than you'll ever know,'' he says, touching your face with his hands, rubbing circles on your cheek.

There is one thing Loki failed to notice, however. Everyone in this town that already lived there, is feeling the pain Loki is experiencing alongside him, because he trapped everyone inside his head, inside the reality he created for himself. All he notices is you, and how good it feels to have you back with him, right where you belong, and he doesn't have to feel his pain anymore. His most precious artifact is back, and he plans to never let you go, ever again. He can't go through the pain of losing you again, and he doesn't plan on doing so.

[evita-shelby]

They didn't know we were seeds

Chapter 7

Cw: infidelity, mentions of incest, sex trafficking

@emotionalcadaver @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @call-sign-shark

They are in the Justice Hall in his district, laughing and sneaking around like real lovers. They hide in an attic, disheveled and spent as they lay together in a dirty rug. Done in secret because they could die if Changretta knew.

Snow didn’t give a shit what went on as long as it didn’t bring any disruptions in his government. Two victors fucking provided good gossip in the Capitol and at most ideas in those who solicited sex from them, no one in the districts cared about that when they are busy trying to survive.

They began as allies and now they were friends and something a little more than just that. It was just comfort in having sex because you want to with someone who you can be yourself with. Eva was the only one Jack felt truly comfortable being this vulnerable with even if he was pretty adept at the whole sex without feelings shit too.

Despite what she did, Jack cannot help himself like her. He supposed it was because no one could truly understand what he was going through unless they were stuck in the same hell as him.

“I hate her you know, Tigris.” She says when he brings up her winning strategy. “Said it was the strategy the first District 12 victor used to win.”

They hardly talk about Laurie, or the Capitol or anything relating to the games. But he’d noticed her penchant of wearing black ---her new favorite color--- and asked about her former stylist who’s faded into obscurity as a fur underwear designer.

“You hate her because it worked.” He holds her hand as if it wasn’t his brother who died because of it and for her sake doesn’t continue this conversation. “I suppose if Lucy Gray could fall for her mentor and he for her, two tributes could do the same.”

“I didn’t know that; it was back when mentors were Capitol students wasn’t it?” Eva asks and turns to her side with her undivided attention.

“Lucy Gray won because Coriolanus Snow fell in love with her.” Jack then begins a tale so strange she has to wonder if he drank more than he should have at dinner.

The President was Tigris cousin, they were poor, he was Lucy Gray’s mentor at the tenth games, he was best friends with Sejanus Plinth who hailed from 2 from the exact village Jack’s family is from. Lucy Gray had a rainbow dress just like hers and Snow a suit just like Dustin’s at the interview when they won. Snow was made a Peacekeeper as punishment while all records of the games were destroyed because the Head Gamemaker caught him cheating.

Only no one expected for Servilla Plinth to tell her little sister in her encrypted letters home and for said sister to tell her grandson when he confided in her about his plan to kill Eva after the president’s visit.

Snow and Sejanus were stationed in 12th where the latter was tried for treason and Lucy Gray murdered by the Mayor when Snow was pardoned and returned to the Capitol. Snow didn’t want anyone to even remind him of that nor the possibility that he killed his best friend.

It explains why Snow wanted Eva dead, come to think of it. Tigris had reminded him of how he got there, something only people ashamed of their past hated.

And now he shares that secret with her in this dank attic where only the rats and insects can hear and see them.

She is not angry at him for agreeing to kill her, said she would’ve done the same for her brothers and then kissed him like she loved him. Like she kissed Laurie before her failed murder-suicide.

“We should go, they’ll be looking for us.” He says before things spiral out of control.

Eva returns to the Capitol to find her protector dead.

In his place stands the leader of the Peaky Blinders, Thomas Shelby.

Unlike Luca he did not stick to the business world for his cover, Tommy Shelby had bought himself a minor post in the government along with a wife who knew all the right people.

Eva found her grating, like nails on a chalkboard. Her ignorance could be forgiven, but there was just something about Grace Burgess that she just flat out disliked. Maybe her phoniness put her off.

“I do not suppose you will be taking up the arrangement your predecessor and I had before you did away with him?” the victor has no idea what to expect from him. While it was obvious his marriage was as cold as his eyes, not all men liked the idea of sticking to one mistress. The rumors of him and the secretary were true given her boyfriend was found murdered recently and his wife was also known for having her own secrets.

No one was sure who the son belonged to, both men had identical coloring and high cheekbones.

“He protected you from the rest of them, didn’t he?” Shelby lights a cigarette and does this thing where he rubs it against his lower lip that she finds interesting. Sexy even.

Jack wouldn’t like that, but Jack hates most men around her anyways.

“Yes, for the price of not fucking anyone else, I got everything I wanted and some more.” As far as these arrangements went, hers with Luca was perfect. If they had met in better circumstances, they would’ve made a great couple.

“A good thing he never learned about your affair with Jack Nelson.” His lips hide the smirk very well, but his eyes don’t. Speaks more with those eyes of his than his lips.

“Ah, so it was your work that night?” the security footage hadn’t been given to Luca so no one could prove what happened after Jack tore her diamond collar in the balcony. As far as Luca knew, Jack hated her for killing Laurie and was only nice when people were around. “I should thank you.”

“Thank me after you show me who would benefit most from a protector.” He suggests with contempt for the practice in every word.

“Cashmere, some pay for her and her brother and force them together.” Eva let her venom through. No one was supposed to know as incest was still as illegal as pedophilia, but all victors knew the sort of hell the siblings from 1 got. “Would you like for me to make the introduction, or do you think you can pretend this conversation never happened?”

Snow hated when victors meddled and tried to make it less awful for each other. Inspires rebellion, Luca told her once, if the districts knew we can all work together, Snow would fall from his throne.

That day cannot come soon enough.

“I can handle that, but I do have a favor to ask you.” He drinks his whiskey betraying nothing as he hands her his business card.

“Ask away.” These favors don’t work out for her, it’s how she ended up smuggling contraband for Luca in exchange for keeping her off the roster their first year together. But she finds herself trusting this stranger.

“Arrange a meeting with Gamemaker Heavensbee, your stylist and myself.” He doesn’t mean the current one, he means Tigris Snow.

It won’t be that difficult, Fulvia Cardew was a friend of Clemens and he must know how to reach Tigris. In fact, by the time Matty’s traumatic stress appears during fireworks show later that evening, its already scheduled.

Tommy Shelby doesn’t pay her back with flowers, clothing nor jewels, he pays her for the service with a deed to a small farm on the northern border of her district.

So close she could reach district 2 or even 11 by completely bypassing the guard towers along the border. If the fence wasn’t on, nothing would stop her from going or someone going out.

The question is: why?

[leseigneurdufeu]

OK so.

Abed had a breakdown in which he saw everything in claymation. Went catatonic at this occasion. He is apparently capable of making other people experience hallucinations (Annie in the dreamatorium, and let's not forget Jeff imagined the dark counterparts exactly like Abed did). He created a mafia family just to get more chicken (and because it was cool). Only one not affected by the craziness beam of the glee club teacher or the dean in Documentary: Redux, and is capable of sitting 26h without reacting and make other people have breakdowns just watching/listening to him (Britta, Duncan, that one teacher studying who's the boss, Duncan again...), unwillingly manipulated Jeff into revealing his biggest insecurities...

and he is the SANEST person in the group. Though no. He's the one with the least homicidal tendencies, not necessarily the sanest.

and you know what? it checks out!

Jeff is a sociopath who was ready to falsely accuse a man of human trafficking (20-to-life sentence) just so he would stop crashing on his couch, (kinda) manipulated Chang into thinking he could stay in his baby's life after the birth if he stopped crashing on his couch, assaulted other members of the group (Pierce at the hospital, the Dean at the karaoke bar, among other occasions, I'm sure I'm forgetting a few), attacked them with a fire axe yelling that the table was magic, admitted to "shielding rich people from justice" when he was a lawyer, thinks he's God, committed crimes outlawed by the Geneva convention while in a hallucination.

Britta threw a corpse through a window on accident, threw a brick on purpose through an office window, does drugs, is almost exclusively attracted to weird guys (an antique smuggler, a junkie who defenestrated himself, Vaughn, Blade, the pizza guy, Lukas...), came up with plans ranging from "weaponize a friend's absence of social filter to harass a bunch of girls" to "pimp another friend to a woman in order to ruin her son's life". She goes hysterical during the Lava episode. She arguably sleeps with Jeff so she could beat him at paintball. She tries to gaslight a friend into thinking he didn't walk in on Jeff and her. She forced everyone to tell horror stories to know which one of them was a psychopath and only realized she might be the one when they told her she had turned in her test too.

Troy is usually a sweet guy but he did a few things that could qualify as harassment (naming the monkey Annie's Boobs, or creating that twitter account to make fun of Pierce, for example) and also he challenged a guy to a death match! (but he did spare the guy's life).

Pierce invited all the group on two separate occasions just so he could mess with them (the hospital, and the halloween). He dressed as Patrick Bateman without even meaning to for a business meeting. He set up a friend to "die" (well, be shot at paintball) out of jealousy. He broke his word multiple times ("lemme bounce or i tell everyone about the trampoline" - bounces and tells everyone anyway). SUED a friend. The eulogy he gave at his dad's funeral ended by "but you're dead, and i'm alive, which means i win. suck it!". Assaulted who he thought was his father (but was a colonel sanders atari cartouche on a screen).

Shirley was onboard with getting Chang incarcerated for life (before he became even crazier, that was the time he was trying to be useful and nice). She assaulted multiple people. She has a past as a bully. She took her issues with Andre on Slater's car. She recognized she used guilt as a manipulation tactic, also used a few other tactics on some of her friends. Still, she's trying to be better.

Annie was completely down with faking her own murder to multiple people, and with torturing people mentally (Duncan experiment). She did other stuff but I'm pretty sure that's good enough for this list.

Chang is Chang, Pelton is a stalker and a blackmailer.

Abed is actually the less physically violent of the group.

[prcdo]

have you heard from NICOLAS PRADO yet? back home they’re said to work as a REAL ESTATE COPYWRITER.  before this trip to blackwood pines, i’ve heard that they’re known to be ACTIVE, JOCULAR, AND ADAPTABLE. but on the downside, they’re known to be BRASH, COMPETITIVE AND BLUNT. when you think about them, you’ll probably see JERSEY NUMBERS WORN LIKE MILITARY MEDALS, BURST BOXING BAGS, CRUSHED SODA CANS, TARNISHED TROPHIES, AND KNUCKLES BRUISED TO THE HUE OF BUSINESS SUITS. and because of that, i would say that they’re known to be THE JOCK.

STATS. 

full name.  nicolas meza prado. 

nicknames.  nick is, in fact, his preferred name. nods at variations thereof with the notable exception of nicky.

date of birth.  13 october. 

place of birth.  odessa, texas, usa.  

current residence.  detroit, michigan, usa. 

languages.  fluent in english and spanish.

education.  has an mba from michigan state. paid for by a sports scholarship, of course.

occupation.  real estate copywriter. 

gender.  cisgender male. he/him. 

orientation.  bisexual. 

marital status.  dating, more often than not.

family.  a father, a mother, and two siblings sandwiching him into a suffocating space stuffed with birth order stereotypes.

PERSONALITY. 

the brief.  in one word, nick is winning. not a moment in his life has been spent without incredible drive, nor with any consideration as to local speed limits. he holds his head high and, in the process, can lose track of the bigger picture as easily as he can paint a new landscape of goals with loaded words and laborious action. whether this is concerning or endearing depends on a lot of factors, but he’s not dead yet, so he can’t be too insufferable. or maybe the team just needs some muscle. that’s probably it.

the good.  nick wants to help people. although he’s a primary proponent of self-love, he leads by example and is eager to learn whatever he can from whoever he can – the dumb jock stereotype didn’t pop up without any strict basis in reality, after all – and he’d sooner exile himself to an athlete’s foot locker than force someone to take a risk he wouldn’t seize first. 

the bad.  nick wants to help people with the absolute outlier of himself. he builds his plans around others, if he has any plans at all, yet has shoved his expectations for everyone above the stratosphere to the point where he feels personally degraded should anyone reject his get-pushed-in-the-pool-to-learn-how-to-swim teaching techniques. he does not deal well with having his opinions ignored in any capacity and nurses grudges as well as anyone with a doctorate in self-centredness would.

the ugly.  nick needs to be needed. being disliked macerates his mind into this mush of desperate people-pleasing, even if he knows the only path to justice is the one paved with potholes. if a friend asked him to jump off a cliff, he’d only ask if they wanted to film him doing a flip on the way down.

APPEARANCE. 

height.   5’9. good posture and a gleaming smile had most intramural coaches thinking otherwise.

build.  athletic, with a mean leanness that puts both his obsessive gym-going in adolescence and overwhelmingly green diet in adulthood on full blast. you know, as if he’s not enthusiastic enough about divulging all the sordid, sweaty

style.  comfort over couture. everything in his closet but his collection of immaculate basketball sneakers is best described as devil-may-care. colours stay neutral and t-shirt graphics stay slightly crude. sleeves must be rolled up regardless of weather and whether he’s even wearing something with long sleeves.

notable features.  jet black hair styled with water and confidence. the uncertain beginnings of a bristly moustache. a tattoo of the number one in a compact collegiate font on his right shoulder blade.

BIOGRAPHY.  content warnings for brief mentions of hazing and injury.

tl;dr.  annoyingly smirky middle child stomps his way into acquiring eldest child syndrome + a humiliating defeat to cap off his last collegiate basketball season, and proceeds to do everything in his power to not become the guy who peaked in school. which actually amounts to just throwing himself into work with little regard for sleep schedule or personal relationships, but a quick winter getaway could help him unwind a little, right? right.

first quarter.  nick’s a good kid, but good isn’t always good enough. his parents drill that lesson into his skull as soon as he’s out the hospital and in the prado household’s singular bedroom. they do it unintentionally, which is how they do a lot of things, but however much he wants to play hercules by hurling his weight around the run-down playground, every time he slices one head off the hydra of approval by joining this club or scoring that letter, another two pop up in its place, born of his brothers’ very existence. the one who came before him is their meal ticket making his way through med school, the one who came after him is already on track to become an accountant, and he’s… good at throwing things in hoops. things being homework, hoops being over trash bins. but he’s always been a good-natured kid, so when he secures a spot on the jv basketball team after trying out as a total joke, he soaks up the sugared electrolytes, the electric sound of applause, and the endless opportunities to sink his energy into something until the end of time. or until 6pm. you know, whenever practice ends.

second quarter.  nick’s a good guy. his parents call him the fun one, which might not be a compliment, but warping any and all descriptors into compliments is how nick’s become something of a casanova and kept his name relatively clear of any scandals. that is, until he semi-consciously continues a secret hazing ritual that results in the severe incapacitation of his fraternity brothers and a wicked hangover that, gasp, results in him ruining the next week’s championship game. then he blows his birthday money on veneers of all kinds to coast through police interviews and changes his course from sports officiating to business administration. then he realises that being impressive is way more important to the status of being good than making a squeaky-clean good impression.

third quarter.  nick’s living the good life. sure, he’s got little to no time for recreation, but he’s strongarmed his way up the corporate ladder and isn’t coming down at any cost. also, he can still toss his assignments in the trash can. he’s got a photocopier now. his friends tell him there’s no place better than blackwood pines, and if only to prove them wrong (and maybe prevent himself from getting hypertension at thirty) nick brings himself and a basketball along for the ride to the rockies.

fourth quarter.  nick’s story may or may not have a good ending. aka this is the part where i’ll put summaries of all super important life-changing in-character events so i don’t lose track of them <3

MISCELLANEOUS. 

radio.  beastie boys. no doubt. oasis. rage against the machine. red hot chili peppers.

potential relationships.

childhood friends.  people who witnessed his evolution from tryhard to hard-ass and has, by some miracle, decided to stick around. nick’s definitely drafted up at least one microsoft word nda regarding his tragic past and its secrecy for these folks. whether or not they unblocked him long enough to read the final document is trivial.

college classmates.  nick may or may not be the reason the general public does not desire a 5’9 brown-eyed man in finance. while not as egoistic as he was in his younger years, his enthusiasm for extra credit was well recorded.

former teammates.  while he never went pro, nick’s played basketball for as long as he’s been alive and was a volunteer coach at a couple of summer camps in his must-join-every-extracurricular-ever-or-perish days. whether you knew him as the point guard of your dreams or the gatorade purist of your nightmares, nick was sure to make games interesting.

gym sibs.  they stay hungry, they devour, put in the work, put in the hours, et cetera.

former coworkers/clients/employers.  nick’s had a host of less-than-dignified jobs with less-than-humane pay, including but not limited to arcade janitor, junior assistant dishwasher at a fast food joint, and human directional.

current coworkers/clients/employers.  being a real estate agent isn’t much more dignified when you get to the cold calling, door-slamming phase, but at least nick gets to do it in a fancy suit! and maybe you want to do things in a fancy suit too. or own a beautiful home in the suburbs with so much fluorescent lighting you’ll never think of going to the hospital again.

flings.  nick commits to everything except for relationships. go figure. he’s never lied about what he wants out of a night or two, but he has driven off way more than two dates by insulting their interior decorating skills during pillow talk.

assorted headcanons.  has a southern twang to his voice that gets exponentially stronger on the rare occasion he experiences an emotion aside from pride. says that he bikes everywhere for health reasons but has actually been banned from several buses for playing his super hype playlists without headphones. also hates cars because the smell and sight of exhaust pipe smoke reminds him of his older brother lolol. doesn’t curse much in general but absolutely refuses to do so in the presence of a lady thanks to mami, even if she has a sailor’s mouth of her own. very physically, if not emotionally, protective; will not hesitate to be someone’s meat shield in any given situation.

[m0thmellow]

Of Blood and Wine | Astarion x Enkiel

Prologue | The Master's Antagonist

Summary

“Prepare for a ball tomorrow evening, I expect nothing but perfection. You have one more chance to save that precious hide of yours.” Cazador clutched his chin, large nails dug into his skin barely dragging blood from the small crescent cuts. The grip tightened, and tightened until he could feel his jawbone creaking at the force. Then, just before it could snap in two, Cazador released him and sent him on his way. The spawn high-tailed it out of there the moment he was allowed, feet dragging himself to the dormitory with a mission. He had one more chance to fix himself a mark and he needed to try his hardest to win over his master’s favor. Or at the very least his mercy.

A longfic that takes place in an alternative universe, where my named Tav helps Astarion get rid of his tormentor and make friends along the way. Keep in mind, i don't know any dnd lore or faerun lore outside of the main game so I'm making it up as I go.

Snippet below:

Astarion recognized most of the nobles around, a couple of elves who ran most of the businesses around, the Duke and his family, other rich families around and.. and three Tieflings that he did not recognize. The spawn guessed the older gentleman was the son of the other two, the way he carried himself with grace over the clumsy stumbling of his sons was the dead giveaway.

That and the gray hair sprouting between his ram horns, the half mask doing very little to hide his age. Judging by his movements, Astarion guessed him to be around 120 years old, definitely too old for Cazador himself.

The sons were something completely different. The larger one of the two carried himself with grace, but hunched his neck slightly as if he was used to carrying heavy things. Minotaur horns dipped in gold sprouted from long black hair. Astarion could guess from his broad shoulders that the somewhat loose suit wasn’t doing his figure justice. 

The shorter one of the two definitely performed for a living, his white suit fit him perfectly, gold embroidering lined every single curve of his body. His half-mask covered one side of his face, coiling into his own ram horn with a vine-like spiral. His light blue hair slipped from behind the mask, gelled back into the same position as his brothers while one strand hung along the front of his face. 

An orange eye met his red ones and Astarion slipped one of his charming smiles, the tiefling himself raising his eyebrow and smirked. The two held their gaze for a while, Astarion could see his brother glancing between the two with a smirk before he slipped away into the crowd himself. Right as the tiefling wanted to move forward, his father placed a hand on his shoulder, leaned down and whispered something even Astarion’s elven senses couldn’t hear.

The tiefling broke their gaze after and followed the older gentleman into Cazadors office. Slipping across the dancefloor, he managed to get close enough to see them sitting down before the door closed.

Find me a mark.

Astarion leaned back from the door and let the compulsion take hold. His eyes settled on another younger man, a half-elf from the sight of it, standing behind an older woman. He sauntered over, charmed his way right into the conversation and soon managed to slithered his way right into the man’s vision. 

Everything after that was history....

Read more on archive!

[burningthegallows]

sorry css is a hufflepuff I dont make the rules but I will insist we keep her

[sitp-recs]

Hiya Liv! Absolutely loving your hidden gems series. I was wondering... Are you back to doing reclists? I was reading a fic (from a hidden gems post) and I started thinking about competent!Harry. I love when Draco is super smart but I'm also really into Harry being very talented (at what is up to the author haha). Have you made a reclist about that before?

Have a great day!

Thank you, I’m so happy you’re enjoying the hidden gem series! Omg yes, I can’t resist a smart, capable Harry either 😍 I’ve been in the mood for doing reclists lately but in a chill, no-pressure kind of way? Let’s see how long this excitement lasts haha I did a powerful!Harry list before but not necessarily competent!Harry, so here are a few additional recs. Hope you enjoy these!

Stupid Love by @the-sinking-ship (2020, E, 16k)

Harry Potter, how does Draco Malfoy hate thee? Let me count the ways.

Unfinished Business by cupiscent (2003, E, 20k) - everyone’s badass here: Harry, Draco, Ginny… we love to see it!

Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.

A Song Without Words by Omi_Ohmy (2013, E, 20k)

When a violin goes missing, Draco has to work with Potter to clear both their names.

Phoenix Repair Services by carpemermaid (2017, E, 20k)

Draco hires a suspiciously private wizarding handyman to fix his kitchen when he returns home to find it destroyed. He expects a middle-aged wizard with greying hair and a pudgy gut to show up. Instead, he gets Harry Potter—with a utility belt and a charming smile—who is more attractive than he has any right to be.

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (2017, E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win.

Safe As Houses by @xanthippe74 (2021, T, 24k)

After five years abroad, Harry’s thrilled to be home and working at the most prestigious ward-building firm in Britain. But everything gets turned upside down when he's assigned to work for Draco Malfoy—who somehow grew up to be just the sort of sexy bastard Harry goes for.

The Curse Slayer by @isamijoo (2021, M, 36k)

Harry Potter is the first and only Curse Breaker in the world capable of killing Curse Demons, which are condensed forms of Dark Magic that manifest as monsters. Because of this, he is called the Curse Slayer. On his first night back in England after eight months away, Harry finds himself reunited with Draco Malfoy, who is now trapped in Malfoy Manor as a result of an ancient curse placed on the last heir of the family.

Eternally Consistent by kitsunealyc (2016, E, 44k)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter assumed they would never be anything but civil enemies, until Potter lands on Malfoy's doorstep, bleeding, covered in curses, and acting very strangely indeed.

REVOLVEVLOVER by firethesound and zeitgeistic (2014, E, 46k)

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for.

The Darkness Before the Dawn by Ren (2016, E, 55k)

A mysterious creature is loose in London, stalking and killing people. Auror Harry Potter requests the help of a liaison from the Beast Division and gets saddled with Draco Malfoy. Will they be able to stop the creature before it claims more lives?

Timecode by Rasborealis (2019, M, 73k)

Harry Potter has been dead for two years, and Draco would laugh in the face of anyone claiming differently. Well, anyone but Hermione Granger.

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (2021, M, 74k)

Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska.

By the Grace by lettered (2020, T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[mytly4]

Some, even most, of anon's accusations are not even valid accusations. Tyrion could not "deny justice" to people by not punishing Cersei or maintaining Joffrey's regime, because it wasn't in his power to do anything about it in the first place. Even as Acting Hand in ACoK, he had power only because Tywin (temporarily) allowed him to have it. That is, Tywin sent Tyrion to King's Landing to be Hand in his stead while he was busy elsewhere, with the implicit (and probably explicit) understanding that he should behave as Tywin would in the same circumstances. Do you think that Tywin would punish Cersei or send Sansa back to her family or care about the starving peasants or do anything to destabilize Joffrey's reign? Nonetheless, Tyrion, who definitely cares more about justice than Tywin (which, admittedly, is an extremely low bar), did manage to do some things that he could get away with without bringing Tywin's wrath down on his head instantly, like punishing Janos Slynt or stopping Joffrey from torturing Sansa. And even that little, he couldn't do any more once Tywin returned to take up the Hand position at the end of ACoK. After that, Tyrion was in a no-win situation. He could either support his family's atrocities (at least passively), even if it went against his grain. Or he could try to go against them, and wind up completely alone, as he had no allies of his own: the Mountain Clans had gone back to the Vale by then; Bronn was a mercenary who supported whoever paid him the most; the common people hated him because they saw him as a part of the Lannister regime, and because they couldn't get over their prejudices regarding his disability. And in the game of thrones, being alone and friendless is equivalent to being dead. So Tyrion could either support his family, no matter how horrible they were, or he could try to rebel against them and wind up dead. Not exactly a great set of choices.

I'm not suggesting that Tyrion is a saint, and if allowed to follow his conscience, would immedietely guarantee justice to every citizen of Westeros - far from it. But that's because he's part of the system too - he's been raised in a feudal system that teaches that some people are just inherently better than others (and therefore less deserving of justice). On the other hand, he's physically disabled and far from the Westerosi ideal of a "manly man" in a highly ableist and misogynist society. He has learnt the hard way that some people (including himself) simply never get justice, even when they're completely innocent, because of the prejudice against them. Why should he stick his neck out to get justice for, for example, peasants who think he's a monster and who would unhesitatingly kill him if given a chance?

ASOIAF is a series that is primarily concerned with power, how it works, and who gets to wield it. The most interesting characters in the series (and its obvious main characters, whether they're the heroes, anti-heroes, or villains) are people who have power - or least the privilege that comes from being adjacent to people with power - in one way, but are denied it in other ways: for example, Tyrion, Jon, Dany, Cersei, Catelyn, etc. Their stories tend of be about the limitations of their power - GRRM isn't interested in exploring characters like Joffrey, Robert, or Tywin - that is, people with almost unlimited power.

Tyrion has limited power - and he has it because he has the privilege of being part of the most powerful family in the realm. But he is an expendable member of the family (which he is very well aware of), and the moment he does anything that goes against the family's interests, he knows he will be expended (and in fact, that's exactly what happens). Under such circumstances, how can he possibly provide justice to people his family has wronged?

I agree with you that Tyrion did not get justice but at the same time Tyrion when he was in power denied justice to other despite his claims to Shae. He denied justice to Sansa by refusing to send her back to her family despite the cruelty she suffered. He denied justice to the people of Kings Landing by doing all in his power to keep the insane boy who told them to eat their dead in power. He denied justice to Barra and her mother by not doing anything to Cersei and only punishing Slynt and Deem. He only offered to Clegane and Lorch to the Martells to keep them neutral and knew Tywin gave the order. As Oberyn stated there was no justice for Elia and her kids why should Tyrion get any? Tyrion denied justice to people who were innocent and better then him like Ned why does he deserve any? Tyrion himself admitted he was only innocent of killing Joffrey (and I would like him more if he actually did kill him).

This is coming down to personal beliefs. Some relevant beliefs of mine are a) justice is not a privilege, and b) justice is for society and the perpetrator as well as for any victims.

So basically, I think Tyrion deserves justice because everyone deserves justice.

[punemy-spotted]

The Price You Pay

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, mentions of murder, unclear timeline, blackmail, unprotected sex, fingering (F!receiving), smut, esoteric references to past abuse, manipulation, Dark!Fic

Words: 5.2k (holy fuck?)

Summary: You need his help. He names his price.

Notes: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 and her incredible 5K Soft!Dark Challenge and I can't believe I wrote over 5k words for a oneshot, making this the longest piece I've ever written. I took a blend of prompts: Mob!AU; “When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this;” and “That’s a big favor you’re asking for, I think you need to make it worth my while.”

And this was intended to be a oneshot but now I can't stop thinking about it so thanks Siri, I think this is now a part of my WIPs too! Your work is amazing and I had a blast being able to take part in this!

As usual, my work is 18+ ONLY, Minors DO NOT INTERACT

You went to him first.

You went to him, handed them your business card and I want to speak to Steve Rogers.

Honestly they almost threw you out with an extra hole in your head but then the man of the hour walked right in.

So now you’re here. Now you’re here, sitting across a gorgeous dining table with a ten-course meal laid out and honestly you’re surprised they didn’t tie your wrists to the arms of the chair while you watch him eat and take in the look of those baby blue eyes scanning you over.

He even brought you non-alcoholic rosé, when you said you didn’t drink.

So.

So.

You wanted to talk to me?

Yeah, I do. Thought you’d just sit me in your office, have a consultation.

I like breaking bread with new friends. Have a nice dinner, get the wine flowing — of course, that’s not gonna loosen your tongue, but we’ll forgive it.

Oh. Cool, I like being forgiven.

He laughs at that one and the room, strumming with tension, snaps into amusement. So do you, cracking a half smile on dark red lips, before swallowing down the lump of anxiety threatening to break through and destroy everything. You need this. You need this and you can’t let anything — not your nervousness, not your morals, not him — stop you. You need this and it needs to be done and if this is what justice is in this fucking city then so be it.

Well, sweetness, you’ve got my attention. You want to talk business or pleasure?

That one makes you laugh, a little sharp and a little cruel, and the curling smirk on his face gets a little furrowed because he hears it too — pain.

It could be both, you say finally, picking up the glass of rosé-that-wasn’t, if your reputation is as real as they say it is.

He lifts a bite of cheesecake into his mouth and lets it melt on his tongue while he watches you, somewhere between impressed and incensed. You know the look — you saw it the last time he met you in court, but you weren’t there as allies then. Never thought you’d come to me, he admits finally, sounding halfway bemused at the idea, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Counsel?

You wince, or maybe smirk, eyes on the man before you.

It’s a game, a dance, a ruse, and the woman you thought you were thirteen months ago when you put four of Steve Rogers’s best men in jail for fifteen years — fifteen years longer than any District Attorney had ever managed to do before you, and you were just the rookie they handed a shit case to — is leagues different from the woman you are now, seated prim and proper in the lion’s den.

You’re not innocent. That’s not been your game for years — this life doesn’t leave room for innocence, it tears at you, leaves you tired and broken and ill.

Your colleagues learned to fear him a long time ago, the man before you. Captain America, leading the city, the country, the world into a new era of high tech crime all under his thumb. It’s a pretty shiny shield, the one that sits behind him, but mirrors are black on the other side and his soul is dark as coal.

You’re not an angel yourself, and this deal with the Devil isn’t for anyone but you.

I need someone taken care of.

So you come to me? I thought you were a lady of morals, Counsel.

Certain kinds of morals.

You can see him smile, see the way he raises his glass, the glimmer of malice and amusement in his eyes. So tell me. What’s the name?

You give it.

He’s not in the city, your target, but he will be. A Judge, an activist, real tough-on-crime-sweet-on-justice type of shit. You don’t tell him the reasons why, because those are yours, but you tell him the name. You tell him he’s a problem, you tell him he’s dangerous, you tell him you’ll pay to have him taken care of, you tell him you don’t want to practice in front of that black, black robe.

And he smiles like the Devil he is, watches you with a grin and drinks his whiskey in one last shot before slamming it down, Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

You said that when we met the first time.

He’s a hunter, you can see it in his eyes. That lion’s mane might be tamed right now but it won’t be for long and you’re playing with wild animals. The eyes on you are ice and daggers, daring you to do the one thing everyone in the office has been begging you not to do.

(Drop the charges, Rookie, the case is just to get your face in front of the judge.)

You upped the charges.

(Rookie, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there’s other cases.)

You subpoenaed his phone records.

(Rookie, don’t make me drag you off this case!)

You won.

You had no witnesses and a jury you had to drag in from god-knows-where after you proved, over and over again, that he’d paid off the cohort in the courtroom. Finding people with nothing to lose and a desire to do their civic duty wasn’t harder than you thought — it was exactly as impossible as you expected.

But you did it.

That’s what you do, isn’t it? Push and push and fight, claw your fingers at the ledge and pull yourself up, you pay for your crimes in your blood, sweat and tears you pay for the things you could have done then and didn’tdo.

You pay.

And sometimes, that payment bounces back.

And when it was all said and done, when the closing statements were delivered, when the Jury came back out and the Judge — hands shaking, mouth agape, eyes wide — read out the verdict no one expected, you… didn’t feel any better, did you? There was no justice for you in that room, just the searing glare of ice-blue eyes and the burning of your steel spine.

Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

First words he said to you, while the courtroom emptied out and you stood there, facing the man you’d just made an enemy of with your briefcase in your hand and your eyes aflame.

I did my job.

Did you? Is that what you think your job is?

My job is justice, unflinching and blind, Mr. Rogers. I don’t care how much power you have or how afraid you leave this city, I’m going to do my job.

You could always let justice turn a blind eye.

Yeah. I could, but that wouldn’t make this any fun, would it? Thank you for the win, Mr. Rogers — I’m sure I won’t get many more.

You leave him with a smile on his face and the scent of your perfume in his memories.

He leaves you with the pride of victory in your bones and a reminder that your strife could be worth it.

One day.

How do you plan to fill that pit, the one you tossed the corpses of your old self into? The one you let them claw up out of, to haunt you? Remind you?

You’re digging your own grave and you know it, but you won’t let Steven Grant Rogers be the first one to toss a handful of dirt over your corpse.

But now here you are.

In his dining room, enjoying dessert and some sort of after-meal coffee. In need of him…

This might almost have been a date, if not for the topic of conversation.

So. You want a Judge taken out. What if he’s already on my payroll?

Why would you keep a dead man in your pocket?

You like the sound of his laugh, and you don’t even have the excuse of wine to fall back on when it warms your core. Don’t admit it though, don’t say it aloud, don’t let him get an in. Be smart, cross your legs tighter, keep your eyes on the prize.

You’re so close to the finish line.

That’s a big favor you’re asking for, Counsel, I think you need to make it worth my while.

Worth your while?

I’m not a charity. And since you put the guy I usually use to handle these things behind bars for a few years—

You know I can get him out too.

That’s not payment, that’s putting things right.

You take a drink. Steady on, girl.

I’m leaving the DA’s office.

That stops him.

Oh that stops him good, and he looks fascinated. Interested. You’ve said something he can use as leverage and it’s not just about a job. That smirk on his face is smug and his eyes are darker and he has to know the impact that look has.

Can’t falter, don’t falter, don’t give in.

Am I allowed to ask why?

No.

You’ve done your research. You just don’t know why you’re thinking about it now. Steven Grant Rogers, “Captain America,” leader of a crime family that had too many names to stamp out, bolstered by a mad scientist, a military man through-and-through who turned New York into his own private base against whatever stood against his way.

Get in his good graces and you’re set for life. Get in his good graces and you’re safe, you’re protected, you’re good.

Get on his bad side and you only make that mistake once.

There are no second chances in this game, and here you are, asking for one.

So what? You leave the DA’s office, you leave yourself open to me — you think leaving New York is going to be the thing that stops me, Counsel?

No.

Then what?

Breathe. Steady.

I know you gave me that win on purpose — you could have taken out my last jury cohort. This isn’t about the four men… and you know I’ll get them out. This is something else, but I’m not here to ask about what or why.

He falters just briefly, like he’s surprised you knew, but the crack in his mask smooths itself over as soon as it forms and he’s back to watching you, nodding along in silence while you breathe and watch him and keep talking.

But even then. I got four of your guys in prison. And I know how your organization works — I subpoenaed the documents, remember? Your lawyers are good, but they’re not used to people asking the right questions. You want someone to seal up the cracks you need someone who actually knows what to look for.

You have more than his attention, you have his interest, and now he’s leaning in a little. Imperceptibly, but enough. Scanning over you from across the table, like he’s thinking how you managed to get so impertinent in the face of the likes of him but that’s the thing — when the only thing you have left to lose is your life, you’ll risk everything.

So what are you offering?

Breathe. Don’t. Stammer.

Myself.

The chair scrapes and suddenly there’s the clicking of guns, aimed and ready until his hand rises up and he stops them and he’s stalking towards you.

This is the lion’s den, sweetness.

The stakes are higher and you ought to be braver and he’s got your chin in his hand before you have a chance to react, dragging you to your feet. Do you know what you’re offering me, Counsel? Low and hissed and hungry, like those perfect teeth might be sinking into your throat in the next moment.

Oh, you have no idea.

You get me. On your payroll — you know. The offer you sent me a year ago.

You think it’s still open?

If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have met with me.

The chuckle in your face makes your cheeks warm and you’re looking more flushed than you would like, the open shoulders of your dress suddenly feeling a lot more like a mistake the more you realize just what kind of meal he might make out of you tonight.

We might need to have a discussion about your workplace duties, Counsel.

You don’t notice the hand near your thigh until it’s too late, sliding up the soft fabric of your skirt until it’s squeezing your ass, until it’s jerking you towards him, until you’re pressed against his chest and the hand on your chin is now hooked around the back of your neck, thumb pushing your jaw until you’re forced to look at him. Won’t lie, when I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this, having your pretty little body in my arms,and you can look as indignant as you want but he’s got the upper hand and you only thought you were two steps ahead of him.

You think I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to put you in your place, Counsel? You’ve got a smart mouth — I wanna know what else it can do.

He doesn’t give you a chance to use that mouth to lash at him, lips sliding over yours, swallowing that indignant yelp with a punishing kiss. Nipping at the plushness of your lower lip until you open your mouth and yield to him with a sigh of reluctant surrender, let his tongue slide past that barrier for him to explore. He’s got his fingers wound through your hair, just a little too tight and whether the whimper in your chest is because of the pain or because of the want, he doesn’t care.

Knew you’d be sweet, Counsel… softly, when he pulls back to look at you, take a look at those love-swollen lips and your ruined lipstick, the pretty way you pant at him already, the heat burning your cheeks. Pay no attention to the slick warmth between your thighs, pay no attention to the way he makes you burn already, pay no attention to how your fingers have curled into the lapel of his coat to hold yourself steady, pay no attention to how you suddenly miss the pressure of his lips.

All that smart-talk and now you’re quiet, Counsel? F’I knew it just took a kiss to get you to shut up, I would’ve done that at trial, he’s purring in your ear, soft and sweet and you should push at his chest, so uncurl your fingers girl and push.

I didn’t say I was selling my body, there’s your harshness, and there he is, laughing at you again, the grip on your hair jerking your head back until you’re looking into those dagger-cold eyes again.

You don’t make the rules here, Counsel, I do, and you need me more than I need you. So if you want to make sure your Judge can’t start wreaking havoc on your career… you might want to get used to readjusting it for me. I promise I’ll make you feel nice, if you let me…

And if I don’t?

Then I take what I want and I don’t feel bad for not holding up my end of the bargain. Your choice, Counsel, you cum willingly and I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t, and it’ll hurt you more than it hurts me.

That’s not a threat, that’s a promise, and suddenly you’re more scared than you ever thought you’d be, wondering if you’ll need to sell another part of your soul to take him down after. How much of yourself will you put up as collateral to get justice for the wrongs you were never able to correct?

You’re afraid.

Oh sweetness, you’re afraid.

Here? Now?

No, Counsel, we’re gonna do this right, aren’t we? You wanna be in bed with me, I’ll take you to bed with me. Come on, say it. Say the word.

Say no. Say no, rail and fight, stamp your heels into the expensive leather of his shoes, jam your knee into the sensitive between his legs, scream and yell and tell him you will never let another man take advantage of you again to help you reach your goals. Do it. Do the thing you swore you would do the next time a man like him — men who think they can take anything from anyone, men who think they own the world and the women in it, men who think you aren’t strong enough to fight back — propositioned you just like this.

You’re selling your soul to get rid of a man just like this.

But that’s coiling heat in your core that wasn’t there the last time, was it? That’s want. That’s the realization that you like the way this predatory smile feels, that you like the way this one wants you. You’re not her, not scared and alone and helpless. You could fight back and run and maybe escape if you were lucky.

You could choose.

He’s let go of your hair to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers, soft and sweet, You gonna give me an answer, Counsel, or am I gonna have to take it?

Say something. Say no. Scream. Say no say no say no say— Yes.

It’s a whisper. A desperate, soft whisper. A helpless, lonely whisper. It’s enough.

He sweeps you around until you’re pressed with your back against his unyielding chest, feeling him flex with every movement, broad arm wrapped around your shoulders from the front. All of you are dismissed, and that’s when you remember there were others in the room with you. Others who just watched you concede to becoming Captain America’s newest plaything and the burn on your cheeks is more shame than lust. You pull at his arm briefly, futilely, earning a tighter hold for your efforts and a whispered don’t make me choke you, before you are half-walked, half-dragged out of the dining room.

The walk to his room is slow and agonizing as you’re pulled along, barely struggling but barely helping at the same time, tears sliding down your cheeks as you come to terms with what’s going to happen next — no one is going to save you tonight, no one’s going to interrupt and drag you out, this is your job and this is your place and here you are.

No one speaks. There’s no sound but the steady tap of your heels and his shoes on fine marble. Even your sobs are silent, even your breathing is muffled, until the stairs are traversed and the faintest click of a lock turning opens the door to the rest of your life.

You made a deal.

Time to pay.

Sit on the bed.

You move as if in a trance, and he watches your face, the hint of waterproof mascara failing to do its job, the smudged ruby red of your lipstick. Don’t give me that look, you knew what you were signing up for when you walked into this house, Counsel.

His hands are gentler than you’d expect, when he wipes away the streaks your tears leave down your pretty cheeks, coaxing you to look up at him, We’ll set ground rules later. Tonight? I wanna see if I can get that mouth of yours to beg for me.

It won’t, you snap without thinking, knifeblade sharp and cruel, ready for a fight again. He promised you that once, in a hiss you thought you’d misheard but no, you heard him just fine and now if he thinks he can quench your fire and have you pleading just because you sold your body for the prospect of revenge then he’s wrong.

Thing is, he laughs like that’s a challenge, and the hand holding your chin so gently is wrapped around your throat before you know it, silencing your voice with just the right application of pressure. I can do this all night, Counsel. Do you think you can last that long?

Fear. Anger. Indignation. You are fury made flesh and he is manipulating you with just the barest press of his palm and sliding over you, until you’re laid out there on soft sheets and he’s looming over you, splaying that big hand out and sliding it down your throat, over your chest, feeling the ruching of the fabric under his palm. You wrapped yourself up like a present for me, didn’t you sweetness?

The change in nickname isn’t lost on you but here you are, glaring up at him while he smiles so beatifically it leaves your blood boiling and your skin steadily warming. The rise and fall of your chest is hypnotic, every angry breath a swear you don’t utter, every inhale your protests dying in your throat. What can you say, what would you say, right now? There’s nothing that can change the way he looks at you, or the way his eyes flicker from ice to blue fire the more he takes stock of the pretty little thing he’s about to start sharing his bed with.

Fuck, you’re beautiful, that one shocks you, but not as much as the sudden rush of cold air when he tears the emerald green fabric of your dress down and reveals the soft swells of your breasts, nipples peaked from the sudden cold.

You don’t get much time to gasp, just something soft and strangled before he turns your voice to whimpers, wrapping lips around that pebbled tip and laving his tongue over sensitive flesh. Where are your words now, Counsel, while he threatens the softness of your chest with the scrape of his teeth, when he slides his hands over the round curve of your thighs and parts your legs so he can press himself between them, so he can press himselfagainst you? Where is the knife-dagger of your wit to protest each soft, suckling kiss to your skin, each press of his fingers like he could just squeeze his ownership of you into the plushness of your hips, into the sweet swell of your ass? What do you say to the dirty little thrust of his hips as he bucks with his own burning need, reminding you just how much this is for hispleasure as he will make it for yours.

You would, could, should push him off and instead what are you doing? Curling your fingers into the silk-smooth of his comforter, desperate to writhe out of your own skin away from the burning pressure between your thighs, the foreign, unfamiliar heat you suddenly feel like you might be craving.

Anyone ever touch you like this before me, Counsel?Warm breath splays across your skin when he questions you, eyes fixed on yours and he waits. Answer him, answer him, tell him he’s nothing, tell him you’ve had better, lie and destroy that ego, lie lie lie lie—

Nnnh—no.

He looks like you’ve just told him the best news of his life, eyes wide and blown with lust, Oh is that right? You’re saying no one’s ever touched you this good? Or just no one’s ever touched you at all?

You don’t have to answer. The furious blush on your cheeks? The way your eyes slide away from his? The way you writhe, trying to press your thighs together to relieve the pressure and finding the effort futile? If the man’s grin could get any wider, it would, right now. Oh sweetness, we’re going to have so much fun exploring your body together…

He pulls back just enough to take a look at you, already flushed and writhing and overwhelmed and if he could take a picture of this right now he would. He’ll save that for later though. Tonight? Tonight is just the two of you, and his hands are back to your skirt, pushing the tight fabric up over your round hips and revealing the lace of your panties… just before he rips them off, to the sound of your indignant yelp Steve!

You’re going to call me Captain, sweetness, we’re not close enough to use my name just yet.

No. No you’re not, and he’s not sure you’ll ever be — he rather likes the idea of hearing you whimper out his title when he gets you desperate and wanting.

He touches, slow and steady, watching you try to jerk away and tutting at you when you do, fingers at your delicate nerves like an assault on your pleasure. Bite your lip, bite back the moans, whine at him like he’s wounded you, You’re so wet, sweetness, you’re so desperate for me aren’t you, as he palms his cock to relieve the pressure on himself. You’re going to beg before he does and he’s patient, he’ll last the night.

St-stop it, it’s too— he shushes you ahtahtaht and rests his free hand on your mound, holding you down so his probing, inspecting fingers can take stock of the velveteen plushness of your delicate cunt. It’s too much, too much and you want to scream the moment he presses one finger into you, already overwhelmed, already so tightly wound the barest touches are unraveling you steadily.

You’re such a pretty thing, all desperate and needy, sweetness. You wanna cum already, don’t you? So busy, never gave anyone the chance to fuck that stuck-up bitch right out of you, did they? It’s almost pitying, isn’t it, the way he talks, hums at you while you’re reduced to a whining, whimpering mess so soon, so desperate for the release he’s on the edge of denying you, feeling you flexing around his finger and then the second leaping jolt of your body when another joins the inspection. Taking careful stock of the pretty cunt he owns now, and he’s careful to curl his fingers just right as he seeks the spot to hammer just to get you to scream.

You don’t, not yet, but that’s okay too, because he sees the way you take desperate hold of the sheets, the way your eyes roll backwards just slightly, the way you strain against his heavy hand to arch your back. Gotta tell you, sweetness, I imagined you under me a thousand and one ways but this one, right now? Tops the list. You ready to beg for me?

Do it. Do it and end your pleasurable torment. Do it and be released from the pressure, the coiling want. Surrender to him. Let him have you.

The white hot rush of your orgasm is not unexpected to him, his curling, cruel fingers having found the sweetness of your g-spot, but — you, too busy climbing the ranks to think of your own pleasure, too busy demanding your due from an unjust world explore your own warmth beyond that of a memory of a college hookup you would rather forget — you left breathless and wanton in the heat of the explosion he draws out of you, mewling something desperate and pleading against your own will and the song of it fills his ears like it’s all he’s ever wanted. There it is, and I thought we’d be here all night. A thumb flickers over the nerves at your entrance and you practically jump, something between a yelp and a moan escaping your lips.

First one’s just a treat, sweetness. Now on, you cum when I say you do, understand?

You nod.

Oh you nod, and you are lost, here and now. Sensitive and broken and there is so little of that steel spine here, writhing in his sheets and ohyou don’t know the things you do to him.

Think you can go again, sweetness? He’s purring, smug, twisting fingers stretching you slowly, muttering under his breath about how fucking tight you are around his fingers, how good you’re going to feel for him, and the smugness on his face is slowly fading into a dark consternation, brows furrowed like he’s somehow angry at you for being plush and delicate and fuckable.

You’re almost begging him to stop, and yet the pressure is building again, the twisting, coiling heat that leaves you breathless and mewling and he looks like he might be trying to immortalize this moment forever. Say it, sweetness. Say you need me. Beg me for my cock.

That’s it.

That’s what you need to, you need to beg, you need to give in. No more fighting, no more arguing no more —

Please…

Please what, sweetness, come on now. You got a way with words. The snarl is so barely contained.

Please, Captain, please just…

What do you need, sweetness? The fingers are relentless, the buzz in your nerves is overwhelming, you can barely even hear yourself talk, much less him.

Please just fuck me, Captain, I need your cock! It’s hurried and it’s crude and it’s desperate and it’s exactly what he wants as just another wall crumbles and you fall off your pedestal right into his arms.

He’s barely able to resist the buck of his hips, the need to be inside you, the knowledge that you are soft and velvet and you could be all over his senses just like this.

When did he free his cock? You don’t know, you just know it’s practically salvation when he sinks into you, when he fills you like you’ve been desperate for and Oh sweetness…pours from his lips just as you hiss out something like praise right back at him.

You’re so full and he’s so gentle, at first, like you’re made of crystal in his arms, like the slow shifting of his hips might have you shattering underneath him if he’s not careful. Cradling you, even, sliding your legs around his narrow hips as he leans in and takes a hungry kiss from your wanting, whimpering mouth.

Love this look on you, all wrapped around me, whispered low and slow into your ear, sweetness you have no idea how good you look…

Melt into those compliments, melt into him, because the way he’s holding you is divine and you can feel him so deep in you it’s making your head spin. When did your arms end up around him? When did you start clinging to him like an anchor, start winding your fingers through his hair, start leaving the marks of your nails on his back to the sound of his own needy groaning?

He noses your cheek and leaves a mark of ownership on your neck with hungry lips, knowing you’ll bruise a beautiful flower right over your pulsebeat and continuing the steady assault on your nerves, cunt-first.

Harder. Faster. More.

And oh, sweetness, you do shatter.

You shatter all around him, you shatter into something divine and rapturous, full of him and filled with him and he cums so deep inside you as you do, still fucking you through your joined climax, hips rutting and breath hitching and nearly furious at you for the way his vision whites out too, the way he feels like he can Never get enough and so he hisses that at you like an accusation while his thoughts reorient back to reality, back to smugness, back to the control you took from him while he tried to strip you of yours.

In the end, as he pulls away from you and sinks to the side of you, watching your sweet expression as you return to the reality of your new situation, he is satisfied… thoroughly.

Oh yeah, I think we can make this a working relationship, Counsel.

[ronearoundblindly]

The Ace and The A-Hole

The story of how Lloyd Hansen went off the deep end. Featuring Lloyd and his little sister, Cassandra.

This is basically a concept/headcanon/earworm I can't shake, so I'm speed writing it. Warnings for mentions of rape (not between siblings) and canon-level violence (so bunch o'murder and some torture/death, not graphic) DARK FIC, that's your whole warning.

The Hansen name is synonymous with excellence. Less than perfection is not acceptable, and the Hansen children knew this from day one. Before they knew language, they knew pressure, and both Lloyd and Cassandra thrived on that pressure.

Lloyd excelled physically--not that he didn't have a sharp mind--while Cassie excelled academically--not that she was physically inept. Neither showed interest in having future families or relationships; they had each other and their work.

Caz and Lolly (as they called each other) lived with a different purpose than the rest of the world because they are and were better than you or I.

So Lloyd went to Harvard to play football and wipe the turf with any rich d-bag he could get his hands on, and three years later he was recruited to train with the CIA.

Cassie followed in his footsteps and attended Harvard, too, but only for five months. That's when both their lives took an unexpected turn.

"You can't have no friends, Caz," Lloyd joked on the phone with her one day late in the fall semester. "Tell you what, I'll get some of my football buddies to look after you. Yeah, you're right, they are dumb as bricks but look at it this way. They're that much easier to order around."

His sister allowed it, and she went to the frat party Lloyd texted her about a few days later. And then she stopped calling. She stopped texting. And then Lloyd got a text from one of those same 'buds' who would have been at the party.

: tell your sister to drop it, man : we were both drunk : we all have hookups we regret : it's no big deal

At the time, Lloyd didn't know the word for it, but he knew his sister had never been interested in guys or girls. She couldn't give less of a fuck about romance, and she certainly had zero interest in sex.

Turns out, Cassie didn't even have interest in drinking, and it was actually a bottle of Gatorade that was roofied.

Lloyd finally got in touch with Caz through the RA in her dorm.

"Lolly, I don't think I want to be here anymore."

Because he's known her her whole life, Lloyd knew Cassie wasn't talking about Harvard.

He tried their parents, who were ashamed to speak of it and concerned that Caz was making a spectacle of herself, worried that the school would make them social pariahs. How would the name Hansen be perceived with this albatross around its neck?

He tried to get leave from his training--which he wasn't granted because he couldn't say when he'd come back.

He tried to give testimony over the phone to the school's disciplinary council--who then ruled that there was too much he-said-she-said to assert a punishment on any party.

And then Lloyd got pissed. He gave zero shits before, but this tipped the scales. Rules are horseshit. Justice doesn't exist. He's good enough to leave them all in the dust, and he's taking Caz with him.

His expulsion from the CIA was ornamental. He started his dealings in death with his little sister as his strategist and they excelled.

Lloyd even casually mentioned when he received word that one of his football buddies dropped dead, and the next time, and the next. Each succumbed to something different: a nasty allergic reaction, heroin overdose, concussive head trauma left untreated, car accident...

Each occurring between his and Caz's assignments, oddly enough, and he was so proud of her.

They continued like that for years.

Their team grew as their reputation grew, but really it was Lloyd who liked the spotlight, the flashiest man in the shadows. He could be decked out in designer with all the money they made. Caz didn't like all that. She liked to win. She liked to be busy. She still loved to learn.

Since their father was an avid hunter, both Caz and Lolly were master marksmen from a young age, so she spent time getting better at hand-to-hand combat instead. She eventually went from desk jockey to his right hand in the field.

She constantly teased Lloyd for his fancy clothes (particularly his shoes) and laughed in his face as he tested out every look of facial hair under the sun.

Her least favorite was the mustache. She gagged every morning when she saw it, and he punctuated each greeting with "means it's perfect, sunshine." Nothing brought him more joy.

So their years went on.

Until one night when Caz got shot in the gut, and Lloyd had no way to save her and salvage the mission. She was dying painfully, slowly. He tried to stay with her, to scream over comms for medical help, but she knew how she wanted to go out.

"Lolly," his baby sister wheezed up at him from the blood-drenched floor, "quit being an asshole and finish the job."

When he refused to leave, his better half, the more dedicated sibling, the one who succeeded in overcoming their demons, took his gun, stuck it in her mouth, and did what he couldn't.

Caz knew he'd walk away because Hansens aren't sentimental. Once she was gone, she was gone. What was left behind was just another body, another lump of flesh.

Lloyd's never been distracted again, and he's always finished a job. Caz would come back to kill him if he didn't.

gif credit @tessas-thompson

Lloyd will never stop taking a free lollipop whenever possible. He'll never give up the clothes and the shoes because she hated them. He'll never shave the mustache because she said it 'haunted her in her dreams.' He'll never care whether the person he kills is good or evil because the world does bad things to all people. He's not doing any differently; he's just making a profit off of it and having some fun. He'll never care about the collateral because there's no age when someone is exempt from reality, and he'll never care about someone's suffering because Caz bore more, and she bore it better than you all.

The light's been gone from the world for a while, and Lloyd's just playing in the shadows until the end.

[songofclarity]

when you said "[Huaisang] took taking down jgy so seriously and so professionally; he has no cheering moment or hail of victory" I was reminded of another post I saw about the moment at the beginning of NMJ's Empathy flashback where the disciples are celebrating the victory over the puppets but NMJ only looks grim. It's something the Nie bros have in common: both consider violence and killing to be necessary and justified— but it's a grim duty, to be undertaken with seriousness, not satisfaction

Yes, that comparison is exactly it, Anon! I do appreciate how CQL ensured Nie MingJue was all business during his fights. Even at the banquet when the Sunshot Campaign was over and done with, his group arrived late (‘Sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come’) and he looked miserable. Not even an official victory party could put a smile on his face, much less encourage him to celebrate three years of hard work!

I would hesitate, however, before accusing the Nie brothers of finding violence and/or killing as necessary. Those are just tools in the tool box and they could be taken out as needed but they weren’t always needed, much less required. We see time and time again how the Nie brothers pick non-violent options when violence and murder would make their lives so much easier. And this choice between violence and non-violence is important. This is the choice that separates them both from Jin GuangYao. Because when it comes down to it, what was the point of having fought against the Wen Sect if they were all just to become violent and murderous themselves?

For convenience, I have outlined Nie MingJue’s 5 year plan here:

Fight a war against a violent sect

Win even if it might cost him his own life

Go home and live in peace

Nie MingJue stayed his hand from murder not once, not twice, but three times when confronted directly with a cold-blooded murderer. He picked suffering Meng Yao/Jin GuangYao to live over easily justifiable back-alley execution. He banged on the doors of Koi Tower demanding Xue Yang be turned over to him, but never used violence to take matters into his own hands, not even when he held Baxia at Xue Yang’s throat and could have ended the discussion right then and there.

The only people Nie MingJue ever killed were nameless cultivators on the battlefield; nameless cultivators when he was being held prisoner in the Sun Palace; and Wen Xu, a declared enemy met on the battlefield. There is no evidence or accusations that he ever killed anyone after the Sunshot Campaign, not at the Burial Mounds and not when he had his qi deviation.

Nie HuaiSang, for his part, could have just stabbed Jin GuangYao in the chest when he was crying on him and be done with it. Violence is easy. Murder is easy.

For the Nie brothers, violence was never necessary, but justice was. And there is no justice if you just become the beast you fought to defeat, so rules and morals must be taken into account.

Nie MingJue decided, on his own, to send Meng Yao back to his father to face justice after the murder of the Jin disciple. Nie HuaiSang worked to expose Jin GuangYao’s crimes and let the world decide on their own whether or not Jin GuangYao’s crimes deserved punishment.

Nie MingJue followed the rules. He played fair. He asked for permission. He talked in private. He made his demands. He was aggressive, but he never killed to get his way. How easy it would have been if he killed to get his way like Jin GuangYao did! But he didn’t. Nie MingJue was good. Nie MingJue died.

Nie HuaiSang picked up where Nie MingJue left off. The letter to Qin Su was just a letter to Qin Su revealing some of Jin GuangYao’s crimes. Jin GuangYao got away with murdering the Jin disciple all those years ago, and now he’s going to get away with direct involvement in the murder of his own child? Or baby-trapping and then marrying his own sister? No, no he is not. And he’s absolutely not getting away with Nie MingJue’s murder or dismemberment.

Nie HuaiSang still never picked violence. He never picked murder. He never told people what to do or how to do it, and he certainly never held a weapon in his hand. That’s the beauty of his revenge.

As the saying goes: the pen is mightier than the sword. He picked letting the information speak for itself and giving other people the option to use violence, but that was never their only option. Sadly, no revenge plan, no matter one taken as seriously as this one, is foolproof when other people are involved. Qin Su and the letter were discovered by Jin GuangYao, who then blackmailed her, imprisoned her, and then pushed her to suicide. This shows the depth of Jin GuangYao’s cruelty. Jin GuangYao reacting in violence is a Jin GuangYao problem.

As another saying goes: do not shoot the messenger. We already saw how the Jin Sect protected and absolved Xue Yang of his well-documented mass murder. Nie HuaiSang would have heard about how Jin GuangYao, Jiang Cheng, and Lan XiChen were all OK with the Jin protecting Xue Yang while Nie MingJue and popular rogue cultivator Xiao XingChen were very much not. In order to make Jin GuangYao face justice, the one choice Nie HuaiSang never had was to stand up and speak out and expose Jin GuangYao’s crimes. Xiao XingChen tried that with Xue Yang and it got him a fate worse than death. Nie MingJue tried to stand up to the Jin Sect and it got him betrayed and his death to look like an unfortunate event, not even a murder. So instead, Nie HuaiSang got the information out there as secretly as possible and let everyone else decide on what to do with it.

And thankfully everyone agreed with him that Jin GuangYao was trash. No violence was needed to help them see the light. Jin GuangYao made his bed and now he has to sleep in it.

Violence is only a Nie brother final resort when justice is about to be evaded. Nie MingJue is so horrified after the Sun Palace that he’s willing to kill Meng Yao and then himself over the murder of his subordinates. Meng Yao uses the “I saved your life” get-out-of-jail free card, which not only threatens to hold Nie MingJue hostage to a life debt but also means at least two cultivators where killed to save Nie MingJue’s one life. That’s terrible math! Where is the justice in this?? But in case he is in the wrong, Nie MingJue agrees to kill himself too, so justice WILL be served one way or another before Meng Yao runs away again.

Violence and murder are indeed grim tools for a serious duty and they need to be handled respectfully and with resolve! Note how Nie HuaiSang at no point lies and says, “I had no choice.” It was his choice to send the letters, it was his choice to put himself in danger at the Second Burial Mounds Siege and at Guanyin Temple, and it was his choice to save Sisi from her unlawful imprisonment and let her speak on her own behalf. This boy had choices, choices other than violence and murder, and he never victimized himself by claiming otherwise. He never pleaded innocence or passed the blame. He simply dodged the discussion entirely, but the ending shows he knows what he did and why.

Nie HuaiSang, "Wei-xiong, why do you keep on asking me? No matter how much you ask, I don't know anything." With a pause, he continued, "But..." Slowly, Nie HuaiSang brushed together his storm-drenched hair. "I think that if this person hates Jin GuangYao so much, they'd probably be entirely merciless towards something he cherishes more than his life." (Ch. 109, ERS)

Nie HuaiSang has so much conviction that his cavalier attitude after Jin GuangYao's death is so cold that if anyone touched him they would probably be burned. When Nie HuaiSang lies, he says, “I don’t know.” He knows the importance of information and he’s not about to expose himself for having any that might get him killed. Nie HuaiSang’s fight was different than Nie MingJue’s in tone and shape, but Nie HuaiSang kept the same agenda and, frankly, played by the same rules as his Nie MingJue.

Some rules Nie MingJue lives by:

Outside input is important

Don't kill people for the rewards

Have conviction in your choices

Jin GuangYao was in the process of fleeing justice at Guanyin Temple just like he fled justice at Langya. Jin GuangYao laid a trap for Nie MIngJue at Langya and there was no doubt going to be a trap at Guanyin Temple--so Nie HuaiSang sprung one on him first.

“Brother XiChen, behind you!!!” (Ch. 108, ERS)

And the choice to stab Jin GuangYao was Lan XiChen’s, not Nie HuaiSang’s, although Nie HuaiSang was determined to see justice prevail and that treacherous Third Brother brought down.

Of interest, Nie HuaiSang’s ten year agenda:

Expose Jin GuangYao’s violent crimes

Win even if it might cost him his own life

Go home and live in peace

Violence and murder were never on the agenda. They aren’t necessary. They were never necessary. The tragedy is thinking that they might be, and that’s Jin GuangYao’s tragedy, not the Nie brothers. Nie MingJue’s behavior shows a man who thought if he fought hard enough, pushed hard enough, allowed redemption arcs to a murderer, tried to work with people who didn’t want to work with him, peace might find a way.

Violence was only needed because Jin GuangYao could not be stopped in any other way. He burned the brothel down with all the women inside it to hide his past and he tried to massacre the whole cultivation world to hide his crimes. Considering the amount of death the Nie brothers have faced, from family dead from qi deviations to piles of bodies on the battlefield to allies killed to save their lives, I dare say the Nie brothers had a respectful relationship with violence and murder because they wanted to escape the cycle the most.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Hiii!! I really love your tumblr posts and I'm pretty new to the Batfam (meaning I have only read fics and textposts about them, no comics) and I wanted to ask about the year Bruce/Batman gets "lost in time". I know general things of what the kids have been doing–Dick became batman and fired Tim from robin, giving it to Damian, everyone thinking Tim was crazy for believing Bruce was alive, (don't really know what Jason was up to though, was he still murderous towards Tim? Does the pit still affect him? Also I have no idea about Cass and Duke, were they introduced at this point??) Anyways, my real question was why was Bruce lost in time, what villain put him there? And how did he get out? And how long was he "dead"? Was Bruce in another reality or like just asleep the whole time? Oh! And how soon did this happen after Damian got introduced to the family–a couple months?

I'm so sorry this is so long, but I hope you answer and thank you!!

(I’m going to try and cover all my bases here by going into how exactly Bruce “died,” what went down during the Battle For the Cowl, what the Batkids did while Bruce was gone, and how Bruce came back. Hopefully it all makes sense?? We’ll see how it goes lmao.)

Part 1 - What Happened to Bruce:

So there was this event called Final Crisis (which I won’t go completely into since it would make this post a million times longer than it already is), but the bottom line is that Darkseid wants to overthrow reality and release his Anti-Life Equation, which would overthrow the whole planet and turn everyone into slaves. (If you’re interested in knowing more about the storyline, here’s a Reddit thread that explains it WAY better than I could.) 

What I CAN tell you is that during his final confrontation with Darkseid, Bruce is hit by an Omega Beam and turned into a burnt chicken nugget killed. Poor guy.

Final Crisis #6

Clark and Diana bring the body back to the Batcave and break the news to the Batfamily. Batman #687 covers a good portion of the aftermath such as Bruce’s funeral, the Batfamily grieving, and Dick coming to terms with his new responsibility of becoming Batman.

Batman #687

Part 2 - Battle For the Cowl: 

Musical chairs time, fellas! After word gets out that Batman is gone, Gotham erupts into chaos. Dick doesn’t want to take over the mantle, Tim needs Dick to take over the mantle, and Jason says “fuck it” and takes over the mantle himself because somebody around here has to. He becomes this murderous psychopathic Batman and starts taking out criminals with deadly force because someone’s gotta do the job, so it might as well be him.

Batman: Battle For the Cowl #1

(Okay honestly, this series had some pretty bad characterization overall, which sucks since it’s such an important storyline. Jason is portrayed as this violent psychopath, which...okay, he was kind of insane after the Pit and all, but not to this degree. Personally, I choose to owe the bad characterization to Bruce’s death because as much as Jason resents Bruce for all he’s done, he does still love him and losing him would be devastating, which would exacerbate his already fragile mental health. As for Damian, this happens roughly three years after his first appearance, so we can assume it’s been a few months since he first joined the family. He’s still relatively new at this point, so nobody knows how to write him yet. He ends up being depicted as if his main two personality traits are Bratty and Assassin-Child and that’s it. It’s all just a mess.)

Anyway, Tim tells Dick to become Batman and stop Jason’s reign of terror. Dick says no, so Tim follows Jason’s lead by saying “fuck it” and putting on the cowl himself. He goes to confront Jason, which ends in Jason beating the crap out of him (again) and leaving him for dead after Tim declines his offer to become Jason’s Robin. Dick goes to save Tim and ends up fighting Jason. 

Battle For the Cowl #3

Dick wins, Jason disappears, Tim is fine, and Dick finally gets his head out of his ass and becomes Batman. 

Part 3 - What Happens to Each Batkid While Bruce is “Dead”?:

Dick: 

As I said, Dick becomes the new Batman a month after Bruce’s death. He’s got big shoes to fill, and it takes some time for him to get used to his new role. He and Damian end up flipping around the classic Batman and Robin dynamic, with Batman now as the fun counterpart to Robin’s edginess. Dick, Damian, and Alfred relocate to the penthouse above the Wayne Foundation building, operating out of a secret Bat-Bunker in the basement.

Batman #688

Jason: 

After Battle For the Cowl, Jason is still batshit insane and determined to make Dick’s already stressful life even harder by becoming a supervillain with an ugly costume and an even uglier hairstyle. (I know it’s just because the artist sucked, but still. Jason is horrifying to look at during this time.) He mostly just gets on Dick’s nerves by running around Gotham with his new sidekick Scarlet and killing criminals as Batman and Robin wannabes. Eventually, Dick has Jason committed to Arkham Asylum and he hangs out there until Bruce returns.

Batman and Robin (2009) #5

Tim: 

Tim...doesn’t do great after Bruce’s death, mentally. Dick makes Damian Robin, his reasoning being that Robin is more of a sidekick and he sees Tim as his equal. By making Damian Robin, Dick hopes that it will give him the stability he needs to keep him from straying back toward the “bad” side. (It’s the right move ultimately, although his execution was pretty messed up since he didn’t discuss it with Tim beforehand, but he’s allowed to make mistakes. Dick’s father just died and now he’s in charge of picking up the pieces of their broken family. It’s a lot to handle.) 

Long story short, Tim has a breakdown, realizes that Bruce is alive, dons the Red Robin identity, and cuts ties with his family to travel the world in search of proof. It’s a rough time. 

Red Robin #1

Damian: 

Our little guy becomes Robin! So proud of him! As I explained earlier, Dick makes Damian his Robin with the assumption that it will keep him out of trouble, and he’s right on that account. He mentors Damian, teaching him how to channel his violent instincts into something productive, and it works! Slowly but surely, Damian makes the transition from bratty assassin to actual hero!

Batman and Robin (2009) #22

Cass:

Duke sadly was not introduced at this point in time, so he missed out on all the pandemonium. Cass, however, has been Batgirl for years by now, but she got kind of pushed aside by the writers after Bruce’s death. Bruce disappears shortly after adopting Cass, but once he was “dead,” the writers sort of moved Cass around for a while, not quite knowing what to do with her. First she was with the Outsiders. Then they got disbanded and Cass tried forming a new network of heroes to take over for Batman if needed. Then she helped out in said network during Battle for the Cowl, taking care of a newly ravaged Gotham. Then Cass gave the Batgirl mantle to Stephanie Brown after she became disillusioned with the role, thanks to the loss of her father and mentor. Then Cass picked up and moved to Hong Kong to “follow Bruce’s plans” by continuing whatever work he had set up for her there. It was all very vague and confusing, and Cass more or less got swept under the rug during this time. Thanks, writers.

Batgirl (2009) #1

Part 4 - How Bruce Came Back: 

When the Blackest Night storyline happens, the Justice League realizes that the corpse buried under Bruce’s grave is apparently not the real one and that he’s actually alive out there somewhere! How wild is that! This is further proven by Dick after he places Bruce’s body in a Lazarus Pit to revive, which has the same result because it’s very clearly Not Bruce and they should have listened to Tim from the start.

Batman and Robin (2009) #9

Anyway, what actually happened is that the Omega Beams that Darkseid shot at Bruce didn’t kill him, but rather blasted him back through time to the prehistoric era with his memories wiped. The Omega Energy inside of Bruce ends up catapulting him through various time periods, which is all part of Darkseid’s plan. With each time-hop, Bruce builds up more Omega Energy in his body which, when he gets back to his original time period, will be unleashed and destroy everything.

Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #5

It’s been a little under two years since Final Crisis, though in-universe it’s uncertain exactly how long Bruce has been “dead.” We can assume it’s been a year, give or take. The way he comes back is too scientific and complicated for me to understand, so uhhhh the bottom line is that Tim and a few Leaguers save Bruce at the Vanishing Point and the day is saved! Hooray! 

Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #6

(If you want to read about how it actually goes down, then I seriously recommend reading Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne. It’s only six issues, so it’s a quick read and it explains the situation far better than I ever could.)

Bruce eventually reunites with his family after spying on them for a period of time as Insider to see what has changed in his absence:

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home

After that, things quickly settle back into their new normal. Dick and Damian stay on as Batman and Robin. Bruce goes back to being Batman as well, with him handling Batman Incorporated business and Dick continuing as Gotham’s defender. Tim keeps the Red Robin outfit, Steph stays on as Batgirl, and Cass becomes Black Bat. Jason stays in Arkham for a while before filing an appeal to be moved to a regular prison. He kills 82 inmates in less than a week and gets transferred back to Arkham, which he promptly escapes from. It’s a ride, I tell ya.

Aaaaand that’s about it! I hope this answered all of your questions!

[the-bat-collector]

SUPERBAT Rec List!! AU NO POWERS ish PART 1

I love NO POWERS NO CAPES AUs but its been so hard to find them!! so decided to make this list to help y’all in your search  :D

The length varies, but I prefer long fics so most of these are 10-20k up to 200k 

Heart and Soul by Pandamomochan

E - 150,044

Clark Kent used to be a renowned composer who was said to be able to write masterpieces that were designed uniquely for each individual player. Famous musicians around the world would flock to him in hopes that he would write for them because his pieces were always said to bring out any player's crowning performance. That is, until one day Clark loses his wife in a tragic accident and decides never to write again.

Years later, Clark's son, Jon, gets admitted to the famous "Gotham School of Performing Arts". It is there that Clark meets Bruce Wayne, a strict, uptight, by the book piano instructor who is said to be able to craft the best musicians around the world.

this is one of my favorites. I'm not really into Hurt/Comfort but this is so beautiful!! highly recommended I'm biased cause I play the piano

Seeing Bruce Wayne by Evilpixie

E - 15,089

Clark Kent is the only male midwife working in Metropolis General. Bruce Wayne the residential pediatric surgeon.

I'm so into medicine/doctor AUs this is also one of my favorite fics!if you have to pick one from this list, pick this one!!!

On The Cusp by vesper_house

E - 47,378

Clark's life isn't going so well. He's in his thirties, he works at a coffee shop run by his old crush, his journalism career is going nowhere, and he's broke. It takes only one tall, dark and handsome stranger to change everything.

COFFE SHOP AU COFFESHOP AU!! We need more of these, the dynamic between Bruce and Clark is Great!!!!

A Game You Can't Win by NightFoliage

T - 78,328

Injustice is the hottest MMORPGs available to play! Set in a world where superpowers exist, players can become civilians, heroes, villains, and anybody in-between. Designed by Hiro “Toyman” Okamura, and Timothy Drake-Wayne, Injustice was created with the best Wayne Industries technology available and has the most human NPCs. The game is beyond it's time and is planned to be at the top of the charts for a while.

By accident, Clark finds himself pushed into the spotlight and new found fame. To him, Let’s Plays are a means to stay in touch with friends and to make money. He never got into LPing to become famous.

Bruce, who funded the game after Jason’s accident, is irritated (not jealous) that a video game player is such a big topic among the kids. After the nth time they mention him, Bruce decides to take matters into his own hands and see what all the fuss is about.

link to art

ONE OF MY FAVORITE SUPERBAT FICS OUT THERE!!!!!! this is great and fun and Clark is the best!

As We Grow by butterflyslinky

E - 23,451

Clark Kent is a farmer deep in debt to Lex Luthor.

Bruce Wayne is a billionaire with seven children and no luck in love.

But their families have a scheme to get them together and hopefully make life a little bit better.

Modern Medicine by BuckinghamAlice

G - 5,208

Pediatrician Dr. Clark Kent becomes beloved to his patients, the Wayne boys... as well as to their doting father Bruce.

ABSOLUTELY lovely and adorable, you get the feels!

Hellooooo, nurse! by weirdraccoon INCOMPLETE WIP

T - ?????

Clark enjoys his job at the Free Clinic. He loves helping people and tending injuries. Saving lives. But this man... Bruce Wayne is going to kill him if he doesn't get killed first.

Bruce is still Batman on this one but HERE ME OUT, Clark is a nurse! is incomplete but looking forward to the following chapters!!

Two Cities by EllenD

E - 96,152

Clark Kent, is simply Clark Kent, junior reporter for the Daily Planet who moved to Metropolis from Smallville with big dreams. Bruce Wayne is a billionaire playboy from Gotham, who also happens to be Batman. They meet, date, and fall in love, though not without hurdles because mild-mannered Clark is also socially awkward as heck. But when the most dangerous criminals in Gotham are gunning for Batman, Clark gets caught in the middle of it all. (He's basically Batman's Lois Lane) Meant to be set in the Dawn of Justice movie universe, but also draws inspiration from video games, comics, and those awesome Batman cartoons.

This is part of a series, but this is the main fic of it. Love this trope of Clark is just a civilian and Bruce is Batman. Warning this fic does contain disturbing topics so read the tags.

Here Comes the Sun by batsy_rocks

T - 18,815

Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing.

Then they meet.

Seasons of Love by littlechinesedoll

G - 4,603

Clark Kent took over that farm at the edge of the Town of Smallville. He likes Smallville's resident doctor, Bruce Wayne.

The best gifts for Bruce are ginger ale, salad, coffee, and any kind of flowers. He hates gems, and bars of copper, silver, and gold.

Petals and Ink by drunkraiinbow

T - 12,976

With a new kid joining the family, Bruce tries a new tattoo artist to continue the tradition of adding them to his sleeve, but he won't trust just any artist. Clark manages to win him over with his incredible talent and his farm-boy friendly demeanor, and he may even have begun to win Bruce's heart. However, Clark might have a few things to learn first.

FLOWER SHOP TATTOO PARLOUR AU! what else is there to say, this is extremely cute and a fast read! :D

Faceless Killer by Batsymomma11

E - 51,519

Detective Bruce Wayne from the GCPD and detective Clark Kent from the MPD have been asked to create a joint task force in an effort to catch the John Doe Killer that has been ravaging their sister-cities. Aside from their long-standing animosity towards one another, it should be a breeze to work together. Besides, lives depend on them getting along.

They never expected they'd trip headlong into a romantic entanglement that feels a lot more serious than even the killer they're chasing.

The Tailor by maderi

E - 16,026

When Clark is assigned to cover the Wayne gala, he finds himself in need of a professionally tailored suit. His tailor though is drop dead gorgeous, which brings up a lot of awkward situations during their appointments.

Heroes of the Squared Circle by Mithen

M - 226,687

They've gone by many names: Billionaire Brucie, Country Clark, the Kryptonian, the Dark Knight. But no matter what their stage names are, one thing has always been true: Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are the world's finest wrestlers.

Six's a crowd by Untoward INCOMPLETE/ABANDONED

G - 10,133

When Alfred has to make an emergency trip back to England, Bruce soon finds out he can't manage running a business and taking care of six kids all alone.

He turns to a nanny agency for help, and is astonished when he finds Clark Kent, who seems like he can handle anything.

Clark not only can take care of the kids incredibly well but seems to be breaking Bruce's walls down rather well too.

After Hours by ????

E - 3,175

At the end of a long semester Clark can't hide his attraction to Professor Wayne any longer. Grad School AU.

This is practically a one-shot, not really my type of fic but worth adding!! Haven't come across this professor trope in Superbat so if you got any recs, send them my way!

Wings and Fangs by DanielleN3

E - 17,224

Clark thought he could never fall in love with anyone, especially not after being alone for such a long time… but all of that changes when he encounters a sexy vampire in Gotham.

TECHNICALLY they both have powers in this one but there are soooo different from cannon that I think this fic still qualifies for this list

thirteen by CapnWinghead

T - 22,890

Drowning in student loans, Clark Kent takes a summer job as the Wayne family nanny.

OKAY. so this is not entirely NO POWERS, but I mean Clark is a NANNY so this is great! TRUST ME

Kiss me, take my breath away by J_Jubilee

E - 37,934

There were legends about Gotham Reef. Legends that said it was haunted by a beast of foul temper. Stories told of a ravenous sea beast that feasted on the flesh of men, and was said to be more hideous than Satan himself. Others told of a woman with eyes that glowed like gold to lead sailors to their death. Some even spoke of a witch that cursed men and wreck their ships, taking all their treasures with it. When Clark’s catamaran is wrecked by a terrible storm, he learns that the stories were oh so far from true.

Baby Bats by AlmondRose

G - 4,003

this is a short series of adorable and simple domestic fluff

------

Haven't read this one but heeey the art is sooo pretty soo decided to add it anyways

Dragon Heart by Hells Angel 921

T - 27,660

Kal wants to make up for his past.

Bruce tries to move on with his future.

They eventually meet in the middle.

link to art

I didn't know that Dragon/DragonSlayer was a thing but hey... apparently it is, so here it is.

----------------------

---------------------

hehe and so my rant ends here! let me know if you know fics that fit any of these tropes! I’m all ears

[thegreatstoryteller]

D&D DeepDive Chapter 6 - Bounties Part 1: The Brawler

The town was alive with activity. Whereas the group had come in the dead of night the previous day, now there were busy people at work as far as the eye could see. 

“So the wizard gave us a list of three people to collect. Once we find them, we just bring them to the town guard and the Wizard will be there to handle the rest.” Archie said.

Carver nods. “Sweet. So who are we looking for? Let’s see that list…. A smuggler, a brawler, and a scoundrel? What kind of titles are these? And what failed art major drew these wanted posters?”

“Come on Carver,” Bart chimed in. “The people here have limited ink, time, and supplies. As far as we know the Wiz is the only guy with magic here. I’m sure they’re trying.”

“Whatever, with only last known locations, finding these guys may take forever. Let’s split up!” Carver says.

“R-really? What happens if they… you know, fight back?” Bart says scared. 

Archie just laughed. “Then use those big barbarian muscles! I saw you tear a wolf apart two days ago. I’m sure you can handle a rogue npc. If talking to the Wizard told us anything it’s that this world is a lot more like a video game than we thought. You’ve got in-game skills, use them!”

Carver nodded. “Dibs on smuggler, I can use my criminal network to find him! If you’re worried Bart take the scoundrel. He sounds harmless! That just leaves the brawler for Archie.”

“Alright, only if you guys are sure...” Bart mutters, taking the wanted poster. “We meet back at the town guard station though ok! Enzo said it’s the big building to the north, we can’t miss it!”

With that the trio went their separate ways

-

Archie was the first to pursue his bounty. Or rather, he was lucky enough to find his bounty first. He thought about going about this the RPG way, go to some taverns, ask about the Lazic Grimthorn in the nearby area, and see if anyone here knew what was going on. He wasn’t expecting a bar brawl to start in the first place he went to. 

“Sir please!” The bartender pleaded. “It’s barely noon. You’ve already had too much to drink!” 

“MY FAMILY WAS OF A NOBLE HOUSE! YOU GIVE ME SOME ALE BEFORE I HAVE YOUR HEAD!” this man screamed.

“Sir, step away from the bar and calm down!” Archie said with authority glaring at this guy and drawing his weapon.

“OH! Has the town militia joined the fray? No thanks. Leave before you hurt yourself kid,” he says, turning his back to Archie. He never saw Archie’s boot hit his back as he stumbled over the bar, crashing into several glasses.

“Hehe, picking a fight with a Grimthorn? You’re not the smartest guard are you?” he says as he grabs a glass and flings it at Archie's face!

It doesn’t shatter on impact, but leaves a big bruise as Archie stumbles back disoriented. The large man then pounces on him from across the bar and begins pummeling him to the ground. Archie matches him blow for blow for a few hits, but it’s clear who is winning. “Maybe splitting the party wasn’t a good idea” Archie thinks, blood soaking down his cheek. 

Suddenly he hears a flurry of footsteps from outside. “Charge!”

And just like that, this huge beast of a man is tackled off of Archie and manacled. A lanky young man holding a bow helps Archie to his feet. “Are you alright sir?” 

“Yes I’m fine… who are you?” Archie mutters spitting out some blood. 

“A squire sir. My name’s not important. It will be once I’m a knight. Not like yours I suppose. You look like a knight. Glade we could get here when we heard a scuffle! Did you try to take down Grimthorn by yourself? Awfully brave!”

“Or stupid. Aye, you a knight of the kingdom?” A man in heavy armor says with a glare. 

“Yes sir! Archibald Antiguas! Fellow knight of the Crimson Kingdom… I serve the crown, just as you.” Archie says nearly automatically.

“Antiguas… ah I’ve heard of you. One of the knights given free reign to enforce our king’s justice on their travels. Glad we could help. I’m Sir Heson. You’ve met my squire.  Now that we’ve assisted you on your arrest, will you need help escorting him to the appropriate sentencing area?”

Archie was about to decline but realized something. “Actually, there is no pride in an arrest not my own. I’d be honored to have you and your squire accompany me on the way to the guard station. Perhaps tell me stories of how things in town have been. Sir Heson smiles and recounts the last few day’s activity for Archie as they head to the station.

-

Once he arrived the Wizard was already there talking to the guard, or rather a man presumably the Wizard. They held themselves with the same posture of the man at the library. However, the face and body were different. Though he still wore glasses and seemed overly comfortable laying on one of the cots inside a cell, reading a book. 

“Ah Archibold. Welcome! I was just talking over the recent procedure with the guard here. Thanks for procuring our prisoner.” If the postulating hadn’t given it away, that same secretive smile sure did. This was the Wizard.

“It’s no problem. Have the others returned yet?” Archie says, looking around. 

“I’m afraid not yet, but that simply means you’re the first to witness this all first hand!” the Wizard explains as the guard puts Grimthorn in a cell. As this happens another guard brings a young man in clerical robes forward. He couldn’t be more than 20 years old, but had a very fresh faced look to him. 

“Um… sir Wizard. The high priestess said that it would be safe, are you sure this process is um… alright?” the young man chirped. 

The Wizard smirked. “My dear sweet boy. You see me change bodies all throughout the season. I assure you it’s safe. This man cannot be trusted to move the heavier church artifacts, and once you have his body you’ll be able to serve the high priestess’ commands to the letter. Now sit still and get out the additional robes you were asked to bring.”

The young man releases a larger robe from his bag as the Wizard begins chanting and making hand signs in the air. As this occurred light emerged around the imprisoned Grimthorn and the young cleric. Archie was about to ask if this was the ritual to switch their bodies when he heard fabric begin tearing. The cleric’s shoulders were broadening at an alarming rate! The small robes he was wearing on his 5 foot frame were not match for the expanding torso that belonged to a man twice as big. It wasn’t just the robes. The leather sandals he wore had straps snapping one by one off his new growing feet. After that were his tearing trousers that were soon revealed after he’d shot up over a foot in height!

Once the body completed, Archie could hear bones rearranging themselves as the cleric’s face began to expand and age. He gained a more prominent chin, a few wrinkles, and a darker hair color. Before long the surprised visage of Grimthorn was standing there, looking completely shocked. “E-excuse me,” the deep voice of the cleric said as they rushed to the washroom, grabbing the larger robe. 

The cleric’s change was so drastic Archie didn’t even notice the much smaller Lazic in the cell, wearing a cloak and clothing far too big for his body. “You spellcasting piss pot!” he slurred in a much softer voice. “I’ll get you for this!” With those words, Lazic Grimthorn fell to the nearby cot and began snoring. 

“Hehe, someone's got a much smaller tolerance for a body not used to imbibing in alcoholic pleasures,” the Wizard laughed. “I hope you enjoyed the show. You’ll be seeing this at least two other times today!”

“As long as our provisions are ready by then, I don’t mind,” Archie said, trying to stay strong but honestly astounded that this magic existed.