#vision is supposed to be deadman

[aikoiya]

DPxDC - Bell Above the Box

Dude, they used to put bells above graves in case someone was accidentally buried alive so that the interred could just ring the bell & be saved. Basically, if this happened to you, then you were supposed to feel around for a string inside the coffin, then pull. Or they'd tie the string to a toe so that if the buried begins to move, it just sets off automatically. Now, I get that this custom was originally for lead poisoning, but it feels pertinent here as well.

Now, imagine if Bruce, be it out of some vain hope, had had one installed, just in case, with a sensor that would alert the batcomputer, Alfred, & Batman if it were ever pulled. Never actually expecting for it to happen. Only for, in the wake of Superboy gutpunching reality, it does.

Because of this, Bruce is there as quickly as possible, before the League gets a chance to take Jason from him.

Jason is only half there & Bruce has him at home. But the confused boy tends to wander off.

It's because of this that Jason eventually wanders to a nearby swamp & finds what's called a "blue hole," though it looked more like a green hole to him.

The glowing green water that bubbled from the stone outcrop & filtered into the swamp felt somehow familiar. The closer he drew to it, the clearer his thoughts became until he fell in.

He's submerged for a moment, not really realizing what was happening, until it was as if someone had suddenly flipped a switch inside his head. His mind was clear & there was this strange, almost comforting energy in the center of his chest.

That's when Bruce reaches in & pulls him out.

Jason becomes a very low-grade halfa with only a few powers that he now has to practice at.

Things like advanced healing, increased strength, speed, & flexibility, intangibility every once in a while (like, he can't use it willynilly), the ability to actually grab & hit ghosts, night vision, able to walk silently, even the power to see the regular, non-GZ DC ghosts like Deadman & the Gentlemen Ghost. Not able to turn invisible, but he is able to affect people's perception of him similarly to ghosts. So, he can manipulate not only a person's sense of object permanence when in regards to himself, but he can also make himself unnoticeable. Like, he can basically do what the Chameleon Circuit does. Like this:

Spectral Acknowledgment

However, because he's not a very good ratio of halfa, his anti-gravity center isn't fully developed, so he can really only slow his falling. Just stuff that gives him an edge & a few benefits, while not taking away from his fighting style.

He also gets slitted pupils, pointed ears, tapetum lucidum, & fangs, as well as a core element once it's fully developed. I'm thinking an electric primary & either a fire or shadow secondary, but he can only really cover his body with the elements to give him an edge in combat.

The Pit Rage was much more manageable because the Lazurus Water he bathed in had actually been cleaned in the last century unlike the one in Nanda Parbat. At the same time, it isn't just that Ra's doesn't clean his bath water, it's also that Nanda Parbat's pit has been intentionally corrupted by dark magic & especially necromantic energy. Luckily, this one had recently (like, within the last 50 years) been purified via the same prayer used to make Holy Water (which is the proper means of neutralizing black magic from water). This helped to stave off Gotham's many curses from corrupting the water fully.

In the end, instead of becoming Red Hood, because he has no reason to, he becomes the Cardinal.

Not much difference in the costume to be fair. Instead, he wears the red vest (but it reaches his ankles like a trench) with an actual hood & a black mouth guard.

But, he does tend to use the All-Blades more often. Don't know how he gets them here, but he does because they're awesome!

One change to them, though. They don't only appear in the presence of pure evil & also work on paranormal beings. They are, however, only deadly to those who are evil. They can hurt those who aren't, but can't kill them.

However, despite Bruce having actually been there for him, the fact that the Joker was still walking around & killing people... stung...

The thing is that Bruce had been there for him. Had actually found him. Had kept him safe once he came back. And hadn't replaced him. So, Jason couldn't hate him entirely. But in a lot of ways, that's actually worse because it hurts even worse.

And because of this, he can't bring himself to trust Bruce.

And whenever Jason sees the Joker, it's like he's right back there in that chair being sold out by his own mother. Screaming for Bruce to save him.

You see, a ghost's killer is an extreme source of stress & anxiety for them. If they are still alive & able to continue on with what they do, it is a consistent source of trauma that can send the ghost spiraling if you're not careful. It is an IMMEDIATE & INTENSE trigger. Like, we are talking some serious PTSD! The sort that triggers the fight or flight instinct. So, even though it appears similar to Pit Rage, the source isn't rage, it's fear.

The only upside is that Dick is actually treating him like a brother now.

Then, one night, Jason hears Dick & Bruce arguing & learns that Dick had actually killed the Joker & that Batman revived him.

It shattered him.

He couldn't stay with Bruce anymore & went to live with Dick in Bloodhaven.

Edit: I also just learned that, apparently, due to being part of the All-Caste, Jason also has some basic precognative abilities, though he can't use them very long before they start causing migrains. As well as the apparent ability to just shut off people's powers.

I'm thinking about making Jason the resident magic-user/supernatural hunter in the batclan. Just as a treat!

I mean, does his love of literature also extend to research on ancient mythology & legends, even those of other cultures? Because if so, he could end up being a natural.

For those who don't know, I'm talking about the Supernatural-type hunters.

DP Character HC Masterlist

[orianightshade]

Promptober Day Two: Chess

Had lots of fun with this one. Again, please do not copy/repost my art. I actually have a copyright order with many of my works, as they excerpts from my books, so I can legally file a copyright claim against you (hint of underlying threat while I smile).

“I do hope that you will buy me a new suit once all of this is resolved.”

The man on my left scoffed, his meaty hands tightening around my upper arm in a slow, burning pinch. With my tongue clenched between my teeth, I took another breath.

“I can provide the name of my personal tailor if you would so like. Henry Poole & Co, number fifteen Savile Row, London. Size charts are rather cumbersome, especially with my assumption you are American, but as long as you go in and tell the assistant manager my name, he knows exactly how I prefer my-”

Solid stone greeted my cheek as both of my captors shoved me against the tunnel wall. To my dismay, I heard a soft rip coming from my collar and clucked my tongue before turning my face to the side a bit more, my blindfold pushing upward slightly. I turned my head a bit more, enough to see a sliver of my surroundings.

Ah . . . just as I counted. Eight footsteps to four people.

“Might I suggest, next time you have an important hostage, don’t take your anger out on them?” I gave a mirthless laugh. “I doubt your boss would like it if you hand him to me in two pieces, considering the great lengths you took to bring me here alive.”

Their hands gripped my shoulders roughly as they continued to pin my stinging body. Rotten breath hissed in my ear, low and wet.

“You’re quite brave for a deadman,” one of the men said, his hair as oily as his voice.

Turning my head to the side, I managed to dislodge the blindfold enough to see more clearly as I stared at the one closest to me.

Lower class hygiene. Black soot on the tips of his fingers and rubbed across his clothes. Slight woodfire smell. Calloused ankles. So chimney sweeper, looking for a bit of extra cash are you?

“Either that, or very stupid,” replied another, a series of barking laughs echoing down the corridor.

I stared at each of them in turn. There was the chimney sweep, a fishmonger, a stationmaster, and a factory worker, who judging by the state of his hands, was a metalworker. 

“Those words are rather broad, don’t you think gentlemen?” I joked with a thin smile, turning to face them. “Now, if you wanted to combine those two, you could say I’m foolhearted. I’m foolishly brave to compensate for the building anxiety and fear. Does that sound like the term you’re looking for?” I pause, then chuckle. “Then again . . . that doesn’t quite feel like the right term for what I’m feeling, but, I suppose you're the ones doing the observations.”

“Shut it,” the chimney sweep said, yanking me away from the wall by my bound wrists. Twisting my arm in a white-hot pain, he forced me forward, jerking the blindfold down back in front of my eyes as my vision was shrouded in darkness once again.

Darkness.

It is something I have been used to since I was a child. 

The concept of having light versus no light. How subtle yellows, oranges, reds, and whites can blend to create shades of color that would illuminate the darkest corners of a room. Then, as the day passed, as the wick curved and fell into its puddle of wax, those colors would melt into navy blues and blacks so dark you could feel the oppressive weight on your shoulders as you glided through the shadows.

This concept can also be found in men. 

Stone floors grew slicker under my boots as the air turned colder the further down we went. Further down where, I did not know, but judging by a smell I knew all too well, we were in the catacombs.

Hinges creaked as I was flung forward in a room, leaving most of my chin on the stone. Struggling to my knees with a hiss, I raised my neck, inhaling the grainy dust that floated around my face like snowflakes.

“Where are we?” I asked evenly as I shifted my jaw, my chin giving a little throb of pain.

“You’ll know soon enough,” said the stationmaster as he and the chimney sweeper pulled me up, walked me forward a few feet, before setting me down in a chair. All but one pair of footsteps left as the man left undid my hands. My muscles tensed, but slowly relaxed as a familiar click rang around the room. Slowly I brought my hands up to rest them on the armrests. 

“Don’t worry,” I replied to the man. “I’m not going to do anything. You can put away the gun now.”

There was no response, so I tried again. 

“May I take off the blindfold?�� 

“No,” came the curt reply. “Not until the boss allows it.”

“Pray tell, who is your boss?” 

“None of your business.” 

Before I could reply, the door opened again, yet four steps instead of three entered. There was a bit of shuffling, before soft breaths sat across from me. There was a small snap of rope and a sigh of relief.

“Two hostages?” I muttered aloud.

There was a sharp intake of breath from across from me. “Holiday?” 

I paused. The voice, so full of confidence and charm, a slight Edinburgh accent with a low drawl.

“River?” I asked tentatively back, leading to an awkward pause, before he bursted out laughing, his chuckles echoing around the room.

“It can’t be. What are the odds? Wait wait wait, were you abducted as well?” 

“From my carriage, yes,” I replied with a polite laugh of my own. “It was hijacked on my way back to the manor.”

“I was dragged from my bedroom mid-case,” he replied, his tone souring a bit. “It was such a good one too . . . no doubt my client is going to be furious when I don’t show up with my findings in an hour.”

“Who is your client?”

“Scotland Yard.”

I laughed. “What was the case on?”

“Here’s the thing. It’s about Baron Degrande, the banker. You read about his suicide in the paper?”

“Naturally. It was big news.”

“Well, here’s the fun part: it wasn’t suicide.” 

The corner of my mouth twitched. “Oh?”

“Yeah! I knew something was fishy when I first read about it. The rumor that had gone around was that his wife was leaving him, but the kicker is, his wife had left him two years prior! He’d just covered it up so as to not look bad. And his finances and social life were in check. He was perfectly fine. So, why would a perfectly normal person such as Degrande kill himself out of the blue? Anyway, Edward allowed me into the mortuary and I did some examination on his body. Turns out Degrande was left-handed, yet the bullet was shot from the right side! Plus, there was no gunpowder residue on his hands!”

“Well . . . that’s certainly curious,” I replied. “Have you figured out who killed him?” 

River chuckled. “The Shadow of London.” 

My mouth twitched higher. “Really?”

“I did some digging into Degrande’s past. And I mean, deep digging. And it turns out half of the money he gets somehow disappears. He still fills out his checkbook with the full amounts, but the money is going to a secret benefactor who turns out to be deep in the human trafficking and drug business.” 

“That’s horrible. So, you believe this Shadow of London passed judgement on him through murder?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.” River clapped his hands. “Spot on Holly.” 

“Holiday,” I corrected.

“Mr. Requiem-”

“Will you two shut up already?” One of the men smacked the gun lightly against my head.

I exhaled through my nose as I raised my head a bit. “Nearly forgotten you gentlemen were there,” I replied with venom, my patience starting to slip through my fingertips.

“Mr. Gunther, please,” came a silky voice from the left corner of the room. “They can talk. It was getting quite entertaining, having a play-by-play of how the great detective River works. In fact, why don’t you take off the blindfolds so they may see each other better? An important element of communication is eye contact.”

Lips curling into a dangerous line, my fingers entwined slightly, brushing over the fabric of my pants. Across from me, I heard a click as River gritted his teeth.  

There was a slight tug from the back of my blindfold as the fabric loosed, before slipping off my eyes. I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the room, a few flickering candles casting shadows of the cobble walls like demon silhouettes.

Across from me was River Thurogood. His dark blue eyes cut into mine as he smiled, a trickle of blood running down the corner of his mouth from a split lip

“You look awful,” I said softly after a moment of silence. 

“You don’t look too good yourself,” River replied with a light grin. “Your chin is bleeding pretty badly.”

“I’ve been worse.” I winked, raising my fingers to my chin, wiping away a streak of blood. Examining the crimson against my pale white hand, I gave a small sigh before observing the room.

We seemed to be in a cellar or a vault of some kind. A table was spread out in front of us, a lavender cloth covering something on top of it. Two of the abductors stood behind River. I looked over my shoulder, finding the other two behind me. Then, I let my gaze drift, landing on the person standing in the corner. 

Emerald green eyes stared out from under me in a curtain of grey hair. His hands slipped out from a black and white robe as he pulled back his hood.

“Saint Germain,” I greeted with a nod of my head. 

River looked at me, then to the man in the corner. “As in the Mad Priest?” he asked softly, raising his dark brow.

“Mad Priest?” Germain laughed as he stepped forward. “Is that what young people are calling me today?”

He regarded me with a slight grin as I glared back at him.

“Might I ask why you brought both of us here?” I asked, lacing my fingers over my knee.

“Ah, yes!” Saint Germain chuckled. “Believe me, Monsieur Requiem, this will be to your liking.”

“Will it?” I tilted my head to the side. “Enlighten me Germain.”

River blinked at me. “You know him?” he asked with a jerk of his thumb at the priest.

“We’ve met before in the past,” I replied, casting a quick glance at Germain. “My mother’s funeral to be precise.”

“And what a funeral it was.” Saint Germain tapped me lightly on the shoulder as he gave me a knowing wink. “Let’s see, a five-foot five oaken coffin with a silver trim around the edges. Buried on plot number twenty six. I remember she wanted daisies.”

“Correct,” I replied as I leaned back in my chair. “She loved daisies.”

“You remember everyone you buried?” River asked, turning his attention to Germain.

Germain tapped his long finger over his temple. “Indeed mister detective. Indeed.”

“Impressive,” River replied, giving a small clap. “How long have you been working in the industry?”

“Twelve years.” Germain smiled. “Started in 1876.”  He looked at our abductors in the room. “You can put those horrible little killing machines away.” He gestures to the guns in their hands.

“But-” the fishmonger started, but Germain held up a hand. 

“I’ve got it handled,” he said with a light air, as if telling a child to put away a piece of candy. “Trust in the process. Besides, there are much more elegant ways of killing.”

With a dramatic flick of his wrist, he pulls off the cloth on the table. 

“A chess set?” River muttered, leaning forward. 

I examined the little pieces, reaching forward and picking the black king up, raising it to the light. “I’m all for a game of chess,” I whispered before looking up at Germain, “but something tells me this is no ordinary game.” 

“Perceptive little nobleman,” Germain praised as he nodded. “You are correct. Both of you please, roll up your sleeves.”

“Why?” River asked.

“Just do as e’ says,” the stationmaster snarled, smacking the back of River’s head.

For a moment, River braced himself, as if he were about to fight back, but after a moment, he relaxed and with a huff, rolled up his sleeve. 

I watched our abductors closely as I rolled up my own sleeve, tucking in the white shirt tightly over the cuff of my suit. The chimney sweep grabbed my wrist tightly, his fingers pressing into the skin beneath. My eyes crinkled a bit as he produced a small needle attached to a tube, and without any warning, shoved it deeply into my veins. I let out a small hiss of pain. Across from me, River let out a string of profanities as he glared at the man doing the same to him.

“What is this for?” I asked Germain calmly, staring up at him.

“Good question.” Germain gestures to the small scale beside the chessboard. “Have either of you played professional chess before?”

“I have once,” I replied quietly. “My friend, Professor Fox at King’s College invited me out to a club where I had the privilege to play.”

River shaked his head silently. “I don’t play competitively. I just do it for my own amusement. But I know the concept.” He looks up at Germain. “You gonna make us play chess against each other?”

Germain grinned. “Well, then let me explain the small twist I added.” He pressed against the side of the scale closest to me, making it drop the tiniest bit. “The more pieces your opponent gets, the lower your scale goes. The king is heavier than the other pieces, and therefore if you manage to checkmate your opponent, you win.” 

He flicked the tube connected to my wrist. “However, in this case, you have a little . . . incentive to win. You see, the less pieces you have, the higher your scale lifts. If it gets to a certain point, it will start pumping a not-so-pleasant liquid into you. It will be slow at first, but speed up the more pieces you lose.”

“Poison?” River asked tensely.

“Not quite. Are either of you aware of the drug Omnipent?” 

My chest clenched and it took everything I had to not vomit right there on the chessboard. Breathing became a challenge as I stared down at the tube in my wrist. On the outside though, I remained perfectly still and calm. 

River spat on the floor. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he muttered. “That stuff is practically arsenic on cyanide.”

“In-indeed,” I stuttered quietly. River glanced at me for a moment, then back at Germain. “You’re involved in the drug trade?”

“Yes,” Germain said, tilting his head to the side. “It’s a little side hustle of mine I’m afraid. And what will be pumped through you as you lose.”

“The more inside us, the more our body shuts down. So, essentially . . .” 

“ . . . we’re playing the other to their death,” I finished for River with a grim nod.

“See,” Germain smiled. “I told you there are more elegant ways of killing people.”

There was a short pause, before the detective gave a small chuckle. “Well, dear Holly,” River said as he adjusted his eyepatch. “Who would’ve thought this is how our first chess match would end up as?”

“I would have preferred it in my lounge,” I replied with a polite smile. Even though my fingers were shaking, I stared up at Germain. “When do we begin?” 

“Whenever you want.” Germain backed away from the table a bit. 

“Hold on,” River held up a hand. “There’s one answered question before we begin. Why us? What do you have against us?”

Germain gave a short pause. “You’re both too smart for your own good,” he finally said with a small shake of his head. “You, detective, have gotten closer to something big. Too big. I can’t have you discovering it. And you, little nobleman.” He reached out and lifted my chin. “You are simply leverage.”

He clapped his hands slightly as he pulled away, before squeezing River’s shoulder. “What is the great detective to do? If he lives, he can lock me up for all I care. He’ll learn more about the drug trade of Omnipotent. He gets fame and glory. But . . . he loses you. His one and only friend. So . . . he can either live and thrive, or be a sacrificial hero. I mean, there’s always the chance Holiday will play his hardest to live, so there’s also that little dilemma going on.” 

Stepping back, Germain grined. “Two masterminds against each other. I’m excited to see who will sink their teeth in first.” 

River looked at me and I looked at him. 

“Well . . . Holiday,” he started out, a twinkle in his eyes. “How do you feel about all of this?” 

“Honestly . . .” I shrugged. “It’s better than sorting books all day.”

“My thoughts exactly. How fast do we want to go?”

“I’m going to give it my all. You’re going to have to keep up.” 

“Oh? Confident today, are we?”

I grinned. “White goes first.”

River nodded and reached out, grabbing a pawn. “May the best mastermind win.”

Germain chuckled while watching our interaction. “How curious. Neither scared, nor worried. I wish there was a way to come back to this moment over and over again.”

River placed his pawn two spaces ahead. “I have often found myself in harrowing situations,” he bragged with a cheeky grin. “But this is the first time I’ve been in one with someone of equal mind as me.”

“Really?” I asked with a chuckle, moving my own pawn. “Well, this should get interesting, shouldn’t it?” 

“Everything is interesting with you around.”

“Touché.”

Our hands flashed fluidly across the board with skill and accuracy. I took his knight, he two of my pawns within the first ten seconds.

“Not bad,” he said, moving a bishop forward, only for me to snatch it instantly, placing it in my scale with a little clink.

“Not bad yourself.” 

Clink.

Clink. 

Clink.

Clink. Clink.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

One after another the chessboard emptied. Our scales were balanced, the tubes hissing with anticipation. I felt the first drops enter my body after River stole one of my knights. I clenched my molars as I immediately stole another pawn, seeing his eyes widen slightly as the liquid flowed in him. Yet, we said nothing.

It finally reached one minute within the game. I stared down at the board, and my mouth curved as my eyes darkened.

“Checkmate, dear detective.” 

River blinked, looking down. His eyes widened in surprise slightly. “So it seems,” he replied softly as I lifted the white king up, letting it hover over my scale.

Germain gave a soft breath behind me. “Well done Holiday. Do it. Claim your victory.”

I let the king fall, releasing from my fingertips. River watched it, his body tensing. 

It hit Germain right in between the eyes.

In an instant, the room erupted into chaos. River kicked the table over, scattering the pieces as he used the chair he was sitting on to smash through the canister of Omnipotent. An arc of the clear liquid hit the fishmonger in the chest, sending him sprawling.

I reached over toward the chimney sweep, grabbing his gun out of his hands, his body frozen as I hit him over the head. 

“Returning the favor,” I muttered hatefully as he went down. 

“Holiday!”

I look over my shoulder as the remaining men scramble out of the room, nearly ripping the door of its creaky hinges. River started after then, but I grabbed his shoulder. 

“No,” I commanded firmly. “Don’t.” 

“But they’re getting away,” River replied fiercely.

“I know. But Saint Germain knows the catacombs better than we. It is not uncommon for people to get lost.”

River sighed, but nodded. “I suppose you're right. I’ll get Scotland Yard on this as soon as we get out of here.”

I stepped over the scattered chessboard and peered out into the corridor. River comes up beside me, gesturing to a small line on the wall. “You see that? I used my watch here to scrap the stone, so I could find my way back.”

“Perfect.” I looked back at the room for a moment, before following him out. 

“Say, Holiday, that was a mighty fine chess game,” River said after a moment. 

“Agreed. We’ll have to do that more often.” 

“Minus the drugging, kidnapping, and life-endangerment.” 

I laughed. “Yes. Now, I’m in the mood for a bit of alcohol . . . care to join me?”

[kurtty-drabbles]

Amalgaverse au(part 1?)

N/A: What am I doing? this is a huge AU of another AU that is canon(lol) anyway, Kitty in this au is a mix of Constantine and the questioner or maybe not this is a huge au after all, bottom line, Kitty is a magical detective.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling

The Justice League X is in peril, in fact, the New Gotham is in peril. Wavelengths of magic are changing bits of reality in the city and the heroes are powerless to stop. Dark Claw and the others know who is to blame, Crimson Witcher, but, a woman who can´t delete or rechange reality is hardly someone that can be easily defeated.

Nightcreeper is the only one who is not in despair. Giggling madly as the others mentioned that the Statue of New Gotham now is alive and talking, to Nightcreeper this seems more exciting than a bored statue.

"We must kill the witch, maybe...Jean, you can throw a firebomb in their hideout? She is a reality wrapped but she is still human if we nuke the place, she´ll die" Scott suggested and people are considering this solution carefully, a bomb made by Jean will cost part of the city.

"Hey! who is talking about nuke the city?" a voice echoes in the headquarters. A figure wearing a trench coat and a fedora. No one can make the face of the person, is a blur and the voice is too unisexual to pinpoint if belongs to a male or female.

The others are in a mix, Dark Claw and Scott seem to reconize the figure as they are the oldest members, however, others are not familiar. Sparrow is confused by who is the intruder and Nightcreeper is upside down trying to see the face of the new welcome.

"I thought we had this conversation before, we deal with magic sources, not the JLX, got it?" the person points to Logan and then to Scott ignoring the others.

Nightcreeper is still upside down and Sparrow is regretting to the side to him at the moment as the man is almost completely naked.

"Who are you?" Sparrow asked as Nightcreeper is now sit normally or as closer it can be.

"I´m the magical guardian of this confuse city, I´m the Constantine" the figure replied not looking at any members.

"Crimson witcher is destroying the city, what you can do?" Dark Claw speaks in a barbed tone.

"My job, now, don´t worse your case by nuke the city," the person said leaving the JLX behind.

___________________________

The crimson witcher is in her headquarters, an improvised one in the last minute, to complete her spell, the woman forgets about the world. Completely.

The man in front of her opens his eyes once again and starts to breathing. In and out. In and out. Until the man roses from the ground looking at his new hand and at the woman in front of him, who in turn in ashamed and gleefully.

" Wanda? You brought me back?" the man replied in awe and careful. "How are you?" his tone is full worried as this type of spell has consequences "how is the rest of the world?"

"I don´t know...I didn´t care, not now, I just wanted to bring you back, I´m that selfish" Wanda replied as she holds Vision´s hand looking down.

"Hey!" the magical guardian phases through her spells and walls "there are you Crimson Witcher and hello to you Vision" the figure take the fedora and show her round face and brown eyes.

"Kitty" Vision and Wanda greet back nervous. The reality of what brings someone back means is now looming above their heads.

"Wanda, you know the rules, I have to report this and you need to know the damage you inflicted on the city, people are scared" Kitty respond and Wanda swallow and nods her head now looking at the vision, her husband.

"Wanda, I know reality can be harsh, I know how it can be tempting to just stay in our bubble, however, we can´t live like that, you´re a powerful heroine, a woman many admire."Vision holds her face with his hands "I know this will be an obstacle we´ll face together, ok?"

Wanda smiles grateful and nods one more time now looking at Kitty.

"I did something incredibly selfish and I don´t want to get off the hooker because of my name, so, please, I want to make amends, I can´t control their fears, but, I can control mines" Wanda respond.

"Thanks to the right answer, now, there´s an alive statue that is talking you need to fix"  Kitty replied smiling in relief now, deciding to not tell how the JLX was ready to nuke them.

_______________________

As the Crimson Witcher starts to fix her mistakes and apologise for the confusion along with her now alive husband, something Dark Claw does not need the gore details, the heroes feel relief at the situation be under control once again.

All thanks to that Constantine person.

Nightcreeper and Dark Claw watch as Constantine is helping Wanda and Vision, scowling and helping at the same time, and how the famous Crimson Witcher take the figure´s words as is sacred.

"Once again, Constantine saved our butts and we know nothing about him" Dark Claw drink a beer, they are inspecting the restoration, not only to make the citizen feel secure but also to try to understand the situation and Constantine.

Nightcreeper giggles madly and adds.

"We don´t know the gender of this person, so I´ll use them, anyway, this person is new. They are nervous " Nightcreeper speaks and Dark Claw stops drinking his beer to look at his friend, Constantine has no face to be seen how can someone tell if they are nervous or not." their hands" Nightcreeper smilies like a lunatic and Logan sighs tiredly.

" Always opening and closing, as they only direct to Scott and Logan, the oldest members of the league, asserting their dominance" Nightcreeper adds on "they seem to be new in the city as I saw back then Constantine looking lost in the Central Park of New Gotham as Crimson witcher and Vision had to guide them"

Oh, Logan didn´t notice that.

"They also feel more comfortable dealing with Vision and Crimson than us, we can speculate that this Constantine or they know the couple well enough or they are comfortable dealing with magical people than regular people"

Logan would like to point out that Nightcreeper is nothing come close to regular people.

"My guess? They got this title recently and they are unsure on how to proceed. As magical accidents happen in New Gotham all the time, but this Constantine talks as if this is the first time"

"You realized all that because of their hands?"

Nightcreeper responds by giggling madly once again and mentioned he is a really good reporter.

____________________________

Kurt Ryder is called by his superiors to an important reunion. J.J. Perry decides to hire, out of the blue, a new person to assist Ryder with his show, You´re Wrong, is not a bizarre occurrence. Is just a bit too soon, as J.J.Perry already hired this person quicker.

Arriving in the room, people are a bit confused as well as how fast the process was, normally, J.J.Perry is way too meticulous, but then again, is not an abnormal situation.

Vera Sweet and J.J.Perry are holding a purple paper, explaining is the resumé of the new candidate and now an employee.

"Ryder, she´ll be great to your show, she used to work for the Canadian show called You´re right" Vera speaks amused with herself. Kurt Ryder never heard of this show, sure, he never is in tune with Canadians shows, but this one seems fishy.

"I never heard of this show, who is this person?" Kurt asked and is glad that Cord is agreeing with his question and feelings. The door is open and a smiling woman wearing jeans and a white shirt with sunglasses(it was a really hot day) put away reveals herself.

"My name is Kitty Pryde and I´ll work here now" Kitty speaks with confidence but Ryder saw her hands open and close way too similar to Constantine.

Cord takes Kurt´s plight as his own and makes several questions to the new employee(Kurt suspect the man´s ego is hurt as it did take a lot to make Cord be hired and this woman was hired in the first go) while saying how cute she is.

Her only reply?

"Look at my resumé" the woman answers crossing her arms and looking affronted but Ryder still sees her fingers flex as her eyes look away. Cord looks at the purple resumé and suddenly has no more questions.

"I´ve never heard of your show. What´s about?" Ryder asked refusing to see the resumé saying he trusts on Vera and J.J.Perry judgment(and also, following his guts here)

"A wholesome show about how you are right" Kitty explained and Ryder nods still looking at her and her fingers. Her body language. Her eyes still avert looking at him, instead, watching the window.

"Good, I like it, welcome aboard, Miss Pryde" Ryder shakes her hand and notice how petite the woman truly is. Cute indeed, but, Kurt Ryder is also looking at the bigger picture here.

Some from the meeting also make themselves noticed by asking why they should hire her if she only works in one show in Canada. The sentiment change once looking at the purple resumé.

"Because I work in a Canadian and Australian show" Kitty replied.

"I never heard of this show" confessed Ryder smiling at her.

"Because is a Canadian and Australian show" Kitty wits back.

"Well, I need help, so, Miss Pryde, help me with the show" Ryder smiles not wanting to sound too intimidating as he is next to the petite woman "I look forward to seeing your experience in my show"

"Me too, say, how about we go first see that famous anonymous line?" Kitty asked trying not to seem too interested but in Ryder´s eyes failing.

"No, first we have many things to do" Kurt Ryder holds her hand and guide her to the studio. Not looking to the purple resumé as the others are sure Kitty Pryde is the new asset to the New Gotham´s News.

Kurt Ryder loves a mystery.

Nightcreeper found a pastime.

And Kitty Pryde has no idea what she put herself into.

[amysteriousmessenger]

Hey im kinda late, but... Do you mind writing snowball fight with reader + rfa + V and saeran? If that's too much to ask, then its okay love! Oh, its kinda late but merry holiday, or christmas if you celebrate it! May your holidays be blessed and filled with only happiness and love 😽😽. Here, take all your loves you deserve!

AAAAA this is so kind of you, thank so much and a happy holidays to you too!! <3 You’re always so lovely to me! I’m sorry that I’m posting this on Boxing Day, but I hope it’s still okay for you!

RFA and Reader Snowball Fight Headcanons

Yoosung Kim Snowball Fight Headcanons 

You would have been visiting Yoosung at his university over Christmas, it has already started to heavily snow whilst you were on your way so by the time you actually got there, the snow had fallen to several inches. 

Yoosung was so excited about the snow, it reminds him of when he was young and would make snowmen in the garden with his Rika and his sister. He’d look a little crestfallen thinking about it, and you offered to build a snowman outside on campus with him. 

The two of you built the snowman together, dressing it in a scarf and sending silly pictures of the three of you to the RFA chat. It was then, as Yoosung was trying to take his own selfie with it, that you launched a snowball right into the back of his head and he caught it on camera. 

He feels so betrayed, pouting as he looked at you with big puppy eyes. 

He won’t retaliate until you laugh and begin scrambling to craft another snowball, at which point Yoosung with try to hide behind the snowman as a shield. He has to fight back, his time on LOLOL has trained him for this. 

He throws a few snowballs out from behind the snowman, and then gets hit with one in the face when he peeks around to see if any made contact with you. 

He’s laughing and having fun as you throw the snow, and it continues for a few minutes until you’ve tired yourselves out and return to his dorm for a hot shower and warm hot chocolate.

Zen/Hyun Ryu Snowball Fight Headcanons 

The two of you would be on a winter date in the park. Zen was marvelling at how the pure white snow compliments his air, and makes the red of his eyes stand out against the crisp background and how th- Bam. You hit him on the side of the head with a snowball, instantly silencing his handsome spiel. 

‘Jagiya! How could you do that to m-’ Bam, another one hitting him in the shoulder. He watched as you giggled, scrambling to gather enough snow for another attack and his heart just melted, he can’t stay mad at you. But, he also can’t lose: his ego would not allow it. 

He grabs a fistful of snow and starts chasing you through the thick snow, his trousers are getting a little wet but he doesn’t mind, you’re having fun. You turn back mid-run to throw another snowball at him, but miss. Zen takes this opportunity to throw his own snowball at you, hitting you on the ass and earning a smirk from him. 

You try to throw more, but Zen runs for fun, there’s no way that you could overtake him. You manage to get a few more snowballs thrown in his general direction but the majority of them miss and you somehow strumble and fall backwards into the snow as he got close.

Zen tried to stop himself falling, he really did, but the snow was heavy on his feet and he ended up falling on top of you, caging your body with his own.

After the initial moment of distress, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked with the snowflakes falling into your hair and on your eyelashes. He leaned in and planted a kiss onto the corner of your mouth, his lips slightly cold from the weather. 

The two of you smiled, and then you scooped up a handful of loose snow and threw the dusting into his face. 

Jaehee Kang Snowball Fight Headcanons 

You were hard-pushed to get Jaehee to go out in the cold weather, she was too busy and didn’t particularly fancy getting her clothes wet. After enough pleading, she finally relented and agreed to make a snowman with you as long as it didn’t take too long. 

The two of you made a small snowman together, and gave it a small ponytail. You sent a picture of it to the RFA chat with the simple caption ‘Snowzen’.

She would be getting ready to go back inside to make coffee when you hit her in the back of her shoulder with a snowball.

After a brief moment of disbelief followed by a sigh, Jaehee would wait until you weren’t looking to quickly grab some snow and throw it at you. Obviously, she missed. 

But that still instigated a war. You grinned.

You both started gathering snow and throwing it at one another: yours in attack, Jaehee’s in defense. It wasn’t often that she got to loosen up, so you were happy to see her laughing on this rare occasion. 

Snowzen got beheaded in the fight. 

Saeyoung Choi in a snowball fight Headcanons 

Firstly, it’s not a snowball fight, it’s war. 

Seven would have been working into the early hours of the morning when he realised it was snowing and had an absolutely awful idea for a prank.

He went out into his garden, calmly grabbed a fistful of snow, took his time on his way back inside to smooth it into a perfectly spherical ball, prayed, and then launched it into your sleeping face from across the room and fucking bolted.

He knew he was a deadman. You sent in a text demanding that he meet you outside in twenty minutes to settle the score like men. 

Once the smug bastard comes out, you immediately throw a snowball into his face but he ducked, so your snowball missed the target. You forgot he had physical training from the agency and realised this was going to be a lot more difficult than you originally thought.

You weren’t even sure how he manages to make so many snowballs in such a small amount of time  but in the time it takes it you to craft three, he’s got twice as many done and he’s beginning to propel them at you. 

There were about twenty minutes of all-out warfare, with Seven doing dramatic leaps behind bushes and rolls to escape your attacks, all whilst managing to hit you with practically every snowball he threw. 

You were so happy to see him having such fun, knowing that he never got to do this as a child.

It was safe to say he won the snowball fight, and had to give you pouty kisses afterwards to make up for his prank. 

Jumin Han Snowball Fight Headcanons

Jumin had never been in a snowball fight before and isn’t entirely sure what he’s supposed to be doing, so he sends you a wary look when you threw a snowball at him, hitting him in the chest. He had come outside onto the rooftop terrace to admire the scenic snow on the city with you, and you assault him? He is offended.

‘____, what are you doing? You’re going to get my suit wet an-’ You threw another one into his leg followed up with the sweetest, most innocent look you could muster. He sighed. He resigned himself to humouring you, since it would clearly make you happy and he was always one to indulge you.

You explained to him what he was supposed to do and he asked for a practice shot, which you were unwilling to give him. 

Jumin’s aim was absolutely terrible and he mentions making a note to practice such things as this imperfection should be ironed out and- you threw another one at him. He smirked and gave you a look, before attempting to throw more of the snowballs he had delicately crafted at you and even managed to hit a few on your thighs and stomach.

Despite not particularly caring for such activities himself, he enjoyed seeing this playful side of you, even if it was a bit cheeky.

Jihyun Kim/V Snowball Fight Headcanons

The two of you would be out early in the morning so V could take pictures of the sunrise hitting the untouched snow, reflecting the beautiful colours of the scenery. 

V also decided that he wanted some pictures of you in the same setting, with your long flowing dressing gown settled softly atop the snow. Of course, you indulged him.

After a few minutes of him taking your picture, you noticed he had smiled and was satisfied with his images for today. He turned to put his camera down on the table and take a sip of his coffee when something cold and wet exploded on the back of his head. It was a snowball.

It’s a little difficult for him to imagine himself in a snowball fight since he can’t see brilliantly and he feels like his aim will be off, but he’s more than willing to try since you wanted to play. 

You run over to help him down the steps and into the large garden before you retreated back to your original position. You kept it fair though and stayed in his field of vision.

V wasn’t usually one to let off steam in such a way, so he seemed a little tense at first and didn’t throw the snowballs too hard in fear of accidentally hurting you. He missed more than he landed, so you were definitely winning the snowball fight.

He didn’t mind though, he was far more invested in the sight he saw before him: the adorning smile on your face, the red flush of your cheeks from the cold, snowflakes clinging to your hair and your dressing gown flowing against the breeze behind you as you ran. He could never capture such beauty if he tried.

Saeran Choi Snowball Fight Headcanons

Saeran doesn’t really enjoy the cold weather, it chills him straight to the bones so he either needs to wrap up in a bundle of layers otherwise he can’t stay out in it for very long. 

However, the boy must go and buy his ice-cream from the convenience store since his ‘idiot brother’ ate the last of it without ordering more. You offered to go for him, since you were worried about him slipping and hurting himself, but he didn’t know which flavour he wanted, so you decided to accompany him instead. 

The both of you were almost back at Seven’s when you got the idea to start a snowball fight, so you suddenly grabbed some snow and threw it at Saeran, hitting him in the shoulder. 

He turned around and was both confused and annoyed, demanding to know why you hit him. You were also confused at his annoyance, but it quickly dawned on you that he didn’t know what a snowball fight was. He’d never had the chance to do it. He was never allowed out when he was a child and even if he had, he would have been too sickly to go out playing in the snow anyway. 

You explained it to him and his expression softened when he realised it was a playful activity, and that he should try making up for the lost time. Saeran awkwardly knelt down, collected some snow and stiffly threw it back at you in the hip. He seemed nervous to make sure he was doing it correctly and looked at you for affirmation. You smiled and laughed, encouraging him to do it again as you collected more snow. 

It was a very small, soft start for him.

Bonus: When the two of you got back to Seven’s house, his brother came to the door to plead Saeran’s forgiveness and asked if you got him any snacks from the shop, and was immediately met with a snowball to the face from Saeran. 

[silyabeeodess]

Thoughts on the Balan Wonderworld Novel Preview:

Hey guys, I’m super excited about the preview drop right now, so I’d like to cover a bit of theory territory regarding what we’ve seen thus far and how it compares to the game demo.  Since this is brand new though, know that there will be major spoilers ahead, so if you’d rather, please check out the preview and/or demo first before checking below the cut:

Let’s just jump straight to the point and get to what’s probably on a lot of our minds: Lance’s new look and his--the book writes him as a ‘he,’ so don’t jump me over pronouns--description as the maestro of the Balan Theatre.  This flies in the face of everything we’ve already seen from promotional material and gameplay.  Whereas, in these, Lance clearly takes an antagonistic role by trapping inhabitants within their own hearts and turning them into monsters, the Lance presented in the book is much softer in both looks and personality.  He’s described as being “mild-mannered” and seems to assist inhabitants when they have some request about their own stage, like when Leo/Streetbeat asked him if he could have some more props.  His appearance is much more human, the tendrils on his back gone and the ones on his head replaced by flowing, silvery hair.  Please note this, as silver hair in Japanese media is often an expression of mystery, otherworldliness, or magical ability.  Think of characters like the Undertaker from Kuroshitsuji, Tomoe and Mizuki from Kamisama Kiss, and Shiro from Deadman Wonderland.  All of them were allies to their protagonists, but with much more to their characters than what we initially saw--often with darker backstories or motives that went against the main characters’.  

I don’t think the book is trying to change Balan’s and Lance’s positions as helper and obstacle: I think the book is forcing us to change our perspective through Leo’s/Streetbeat’s and Emma’s/Fighter’s eyes.

Even how we’re introduced to the theatre is different in the book compared to the game.�� Following the game’s cinematic, Leo/Emma enter the theatre and are soon spotted by Balan, who briskly introduces himself before spiriting them away to Wonderworld, landing us in the Isle of Tims.  However, when Leo enters the theatre in the book, the story immediately cuts away to him on his own stage--a feature we haven’t seen in the game so far.  How would Leo have a stage? Well, what if he didn’t see Balan like in the game?  What if Lance got to him first? 

We only believe Leo and Emma would see Balan first because that’s how we’re introduced to things in the game’s cinematic. However, we ultimately can only play through one character’s eyes at a time: The cinematic may just be alluding to that choice.  It’s similar to how we can choose to play as either Elliot/Claris in Nights Into Dreams and Helen/William in Nights: Journey of Dreams: They’re two stories taking place at the same time.  We know that Balan can make duplicates of himself, but it seems more likely that he met one child first while Lance met the other.  Another point against this idea would be that both of those other games I mentioned didn’t have anything that would cause either of their main characters’ independent journeys to greatly shift the final, overarching narrative as this would; however, give me the chance to bring up some additional points.

Getting back to the fact that Leo has his own stage, we could view this as Lance having already trapped him within his own heart.  This would fit in-line with gameplay, as we’ve only seen a stage come into existence after he’s done this--turning the inhabitants into Negi bosses.  Leo has no idea how long he’s been there and there’s no indication of him even realizing how he got there.  He doesn’t even remember his real name.  There is no one in his stage except him and “a shadowlike creature at his feet,” a negati, of which he’s seen several that show no hostile signs toward him.  Then, Emma/Fighter shows up out of nowhere in a vision with Balan and Lance soon arrives before he can think too hard on it--with a clear awareness that something is on Leo’s mind.  How convenient!  Despite Leo’s insistence that “this was his stage and his alone,” he already knows this version of Lance and welcomes him as a friend who’s visited him regularly.

If Lance can trap people inside their own hearts, why wouldn’t he be able to visit them and control how he appears to them within that mindscape?  There’s no reason a warden wouldn’t have keys to his prisoners’ cells.  Meanwhile, we could see Emma taking on the player’s role as an intruder to Leo’s walled-up paradise, with her and Balan trying to break him out.  Lance only arrived by Leo’s side when something about Balan and Emma got through to him, and immediately left when he thought Leo was pacified--back into a comfortable, but unaware state.         

Lance’s behavior and dress paralleling Balan’s, his stealing Balan’s identity, is likely a way to ensure the inhabitants’ trust him: He’s their friend who allows them to stay and perfect their stages; idealized, little places based on their memories/desires--far away from their problems or anyone that might bring them up.  We can also infer that the inhabitants likely don’t  know what Lance truly looks like, given how the farmer, Jose Gallard, had his back turned to Lance when the latter appeared and turned him into a Negi in the game. 

We can question why Lance would allow inhabitants to visit each other’s worlds, but we have to consider that he may not care so long as the inhabitants don’t do something that breaks each other from their heart prisons.  After all, The Clocktower Kid/Cass Milligan is still shown to be hurting despite how many people she knows from other stages and she trusts Lance just like Leo does.  She also explained to Leo that she was able to travel to other stages through hidden passages and that “she’d found a whole bunch of secrets like that.”  The doors are “invisible,” found only by movement.  This could mean that inhabitants aren’t supposed to be able to meet each other at all, which Leo seems to instinctively know as he “felt like he should’ve asked Lance’s permission.” This could even play to Lance’s benefit at times, since they could keep each other enough company to satisfy their social needs where their own illusions and the negati cannot.  He never tells the inhabitants about others as a precaution, but if they find out, he can play it off.       

As a final point, based on the book’s emphasis on “forgetting” with both Leo and Cass’ situations, it seems like Lance’s method of “healing” a heart is really by just suppressing emotions and negative experiences.  I don’t entirely think I could call this something done out of malice though: He might just be following the idea that ignorance is bliss.  Sure, the inhabitants don’t have their memories and nothing gets resolved, but they’re kept “happy” in places literally made by their own design--a process Lance shows a genuine joy toward.  Wonderworld clearly thrives when people expand their various stages, and Lance taught both Cass and Leo how to do so.                      

That’s all I got so far.  Man, I’ve been debating on getting the game after the demo, but I will 100% pick up the book!!  I really love it and the sketchy artwork is just gorgeous!  I just wish it was coming in print, because I’ve only seen it available digitally so far.    

[hesesols]

For Queen & Country

Day 17 of Ichiruki month 2020: Coronation

Summary: She knows her place. She is merely a pretender to a princess and marries the King in the former’s stead.

Rating: M

FF/ao3

.

"Father, what is marriage?"

Byakuya Kuchiki, Lord of Western Rukongai – father, duke, kingmaker; stilled.

Bright violet eyes stared back defiantly, wisps of midnight black hair teasing her nape; taking after his late wife in both temperament and appearance. She was tiny- barely reaching his knees and he easily picked her up, setting her on his lap.

"It is what happens when two people decide to live together forever," he told her.

Here, the child frowned. Forever, sounded far too long. A quarter-hour for lessons and a day for songs under the sun- those were reasonable terms of engagement. She couldn't even sit still for her lessons much less consider something that would mean longer than a day.

Still, she thought of the potential advantages to the arrangement. Miss Hinamori gave her sweets if she behaved during her lessons and sat very very still. Some days, when she was especially good, she would ask Miss Hinamori for chocolate.

The governess had laughed and called her a word- shrewd, she wondered what it meant.

Her eyes narrowed, if she could endure her lessons for sweets and desserts- surely that must mean that there are greater things to be gained from a long-suffering pact as this?

Folding her arms very solemnly, she asked her father to name the price.

"What would it mean for me?"

.

A bride- fine gossamer silk, bolts of colourful fabrics woven of every colour known to man, bone-china, her mother's pearls; blessed, cherished, happy, loved.

A wife- bearer of the world, the silent matriarch, keeper of secrets, manageress of a household and an empty bed; tried, dignified, wise, experienced.

.

But those are visions of a man old and weary of the world, she will learn of the Truth at her own pace. He gave her something less tangible- facts.

"When you marry, you take on your husband's last name and share your fortunes with him, take care of him, obey him, give him ch-"

He caught himself just in time. As fascinating as the conversation was, Lord Byakuya did not fancy a conversation with his daughter on the matter of baby-making and answer her queries on how children were made.

That would come much later and at the hands of an experienced governess, preferably.

He cleared his throat loudly and looked at his daughter who had the most thoughtful expression set on her face while chewing on the ends of her braids. The cogs in her brain turned.

.

Everything?

.

Her young mind was devastated- that meant her favourite cakes and sweets, even that sweet little rabbit that she had rescued, half of everything she had was some horrible boy's future property?

Boys- like Renji, were horrible and mean, they had no appreciation for fine, pretty things like her drawings, they liked to tug her hair and call her names. They were rough, rude and were more wont to destroy than build.

Her dolls- china, and straw-made, still bore scars as a testament to their ill-treatment at the hands of her unruly siblings.

"Must I?"

"Are you a good person?"

She nodded vigorously. She obeyed Miss Hinamori instructions and did what she was told (most of the time). There was also the time when she saved a rabbit from the cook's horrible dogs. The rabbit- she called him Chappy, now lives in a pretty cage and was served fresh carrots daily. Miss Hinamori had praised her and called her kind, so she must be.

"Then you should," he said.

The raven-haired noblewoman in-the-making made a face.

"That is absolutely mad, Father," she tugged on his sleeves and fixed him with her strongest gaze, "why would people do such things?"

"For duty, honour and sometimes, love, my dearest."

.

The girl frowned- 'duty' and 'honour'. She held both words in contempt with a vengeance unbecoming for a Lady of noble status, for it was used with relish when seven year-olds were made to do what they were told.

It was her 'duty' as a future Lady of noble birth to be in bed early, to share her toys with her visiting cousins, to find dancing and other leisurely activities like playing the piano-forte as natural as breathing. And much to her dismay, she would find that as the years passed, the list too grew. Now, her 'duties' even included making 'scintillating' and 'polite' conversations with even the rudest of her associates. The words did not gain any favour at the hands of her father- who was a far more eloquent speaker than Miss Hinamori and infinitely more superior in his knowledge of the world.

Rukia was made to feel stupid and insignificant when they come out to play.

Renji says 'love' with a tone that sealed it as the most despicable thing under the sky and she supposed she would agree with her adopted brother for once- it must be a dangerous and strange thing indeed for some people to willingly share half of everything they owned with another person, especially with icky boys and their grubby hands.

Furthermore, she was reminded of the cloying sweet smell of perfume that her older cousin favoured upon the arrival of her betrothed. The older girl with her sudden airy, breathless tone of voice and her betrothed with the oddest smile on his face that frankly made him look foolish. Miss Hinamori had claimed that it was because it was a love match between the young couple and it did not happen often in people of her circle.

She wrinkled her nose and prayed that she never succumbed to it.

.

"Father," she began solemnly, "I do not think I shall ever marry."

The normally stoic noble smiled at her. Children have such amusing ideas and thoughts. Keeping his face straight and trying very hard to remain stern, he told her.

"We shall see."'

.

.

.

Inevitably, she learns.

Love is tradition- Kuchiki Manor in all its daunting glory and untouched forest, family- her brothers, insufferably rude as they may be, warmth- her father, in his infinite wisdom and sagacity, companionship- Miss Hinamori, her surrogate mother and confidante.

It is like wine- aging well with the passage of time and a fruit of labour known only to those who have endured and triumphed together and then content in the arms of each other, have stayed. It is tender- kisses on the cheeks, bear hugs and booming laughter, and it grows out of the fondness of one's heart and intimate wishes.

Marriage on the other hand is sudden and tempestuous. It is the unsuspecting storm that came with all the fury known to God, the end to unspoken promises and ill-kept vows.

It comes when a Royal Princess flees the machinations of her own Father. It comes at the bidding of a Mad King with even wilder ambitions- thinly-veiled threats and open affronts. It comes with her dowry-horses laden with riches, ballads and tapestries, rolls of expensive furs and leather skins, a procession of servants, craftsmen, artisan- bearing coat of arms, her motherland's pride, the history and culture of her people- an entourage befitting of a Royal Princess; and ends with her hand offered on a golden pedestal.

It is duty and honour, the sealing of two nations bound now in kinship- it is momentous, sweeping and public.

It is anything but her wedding.

.

She knows her place. She is merely a pretender to a princess and marries the King in the former's stead.

.

.

She stood tall as she said goodbye to all that she has ever known to be home. Her brothers said very little and too much all at once. Her sacrifice burnt them and that mark singed the family tapestry. Hath they hung their heads down for shame or sorrow?

Her father appeared- stoic and wordlessly pressed her mother's pearls into her hands.

.

.

She ascends the steps to the throne room looming ahead- a sea of unknown faces and stunned silence. She is veiled and shrouded in white- made to stand next to a man she was to call husband for all eternity and become mother to his nation. She hears the words and murmurs of the clergyman, gives her consent when the holy man bids her to, bows when it is expected of her- but processes very little.

Her husband-she stares at the brown-eyed stranger with wild hair and watches with muted horror as he slides the golden band onto her finger.

.

.

"Play the game as you were taught to," he told her. Scarcely daring to meet her eyes, he gripped her hands tight. Yes of course, the charade must hold- should the truth be made public, the consequences will be severe. He laid another necklace- heavier in weight and heritage; around her neck and clasped it shut.

It felt like a sentence- a Deadman's noose hanging around her neck. He kissed her cheeks.

"For duty and honour- Lady Rukia Kuchiki."

.

.

"For as long as I live, I shall cherish you and it is my hope that our union shall beget a prosperous future for both kingdoms."

His words sound like a scripted play. She grips his hand perhaps a little tighter in response- a show; she must always let them see who they want to see- a bride, a happy, beautiful, willing bride who is elated at her marriage to a young King.

She smiles and he places the jewel-encrusted tiara upon her head- her crowning glory.

The heavy weight and the gravity of her decision sink into her. She will serve the Crown and her King- she will be a good wife, she will honour her vows, and she will be Queen.

"My kingdom is now your home and the fate of her people- her people shall honour you as their Queen."

.

.

"Remember your lessons," he whispered as she turned to leave. The Court across the sea may have different heralds and customs, may style and culture themselves differently, and favour soaring towers instead of domes, but all Courts are snake pits. Know one and you know them all.

She looked into his eyes and nodded.

She marched out of the centuries-old manor- head held high, shoulders squared for upon it laid the fate and honour of her household. She spared no further glances at the Manor as she climbed into the carriage- within her Kingdom at least, Lady Rukia Kuchiki has ceased to exist the moment it was decided that she would marry a King in the eloped princess's stead.

.

.

She keeps her gaze on her husband- high cheekbones, strong jawline, thin lips, deep set eyes of a curious shade between brown and gold. She sees a man in his prime, broad-shouldered and tall- shaped and molded as though he was one of those heathen Gods.

She is young but not naïve. Trepidation lines her thoughts.

What does he have in mind for her- Queen, envoy, impostor?

He bends down slightly to unveil her and kisses her on her lips chastely. When he draws away, he remains expressionless and she reads nothing from his eyes. The erupting cheers from the crowd distract her and she heaves a breath of relief.

How odd it is that a duke's daughter who has never even dreamt of seeing the blue sea, would someday find herself heralding a procession of her nation's finest to a Court so many leagues away, of taking part in a scandalous hoax for the better of two kingdoms.

First princess, now queen to a gilded nation of hyphenated names and odd houses, married to a man whose first name she doesn't even know.

Perhaps such is the strange way of life.

.

.

.

It is as expected, a politically-fuelled marriage between him and his foreign bride.

His ministers of course, waxed poetries of her beauty and grace. She is to bring with her the riches from the Court beyond the sea, skills and knowledge from another kingdom, books written and inventions made from the best amongst their contemporaries, spices and trade.

Her blood is old, the noblemen of his Court reminded him- a scion of a noble and powerful kingdom, steep in tradition and a well-known history of bearing prodigious sons. She will bear him strong heirs- sons to carry forth his name and legacy.

What more should a young king, still childless and only sisters for siblings, desire? It is no secret of course, should he die now, issueless- the throne will go to a viscount from another kingdom- a son of his great-grandaunt's bloodline, a man who has never even set foot on this land.

Yet as he regards his young wife, he frowns; she is not what he expected.

.

"Who are you?"

She stiffens but the smile on her face doesn't falter. If nothing else, he at least commends her on her acting and composure.

"What do you mean, my lord?"

He rolls his eyes, takes another sip of the wine as he keeps his hand on the small of her back, leaning in to whisper to her ears only.

"You're not the Princess."

He has seen the Princess Orihime once. Though from afar and hidden in the shadows, while he was passing through a neighbouring kingdom under the guise of a different name. A serendipitous affair that ends with a dance for the two of them, and a kiss on the back of her hand as is proper.

This woman in front of him, heralded by so many as beautiful, virtuous and kind, and a million other things associated with that of the paragon of queenliness, and for all intents and purposes, his wife and future mother of his unborn children; is not that woman.

The two are nothing alike.

Her smile quivers- it's the first crack in her defences.

"You are mistaken, my lord. I am the Princess Orihime."

They're surrounded by courtiers. Each one more devious and sycophantic than the other; Rukia is determined to clench her teeth and bear through the confrontation. To any and all onlookers, they must appear to be, at all times, unruffled and polished.

He says nothing more after that.

A lord so-and-so comes forward to present himself and Rukia contents herself by letting her mind wander while the portly man dawdles on about the festivity of the occasion, on what a grand wedding it was, repeats the word 'grandeur' and 'blessed' for at least three more times before the King sends him away and in parting, flourishes with a deep bow, murmuring how he wishes only the very best for the royal couple.

Neither of said couple deigns to utter a syllable more to each other as the festivities and merry-making continues.

.

.

The King's Bedchamber is where they retire for the first night to they consummate their marriage and mark their beginning as a pair- from henceforth, princess and daughter no more, but a Queen she will be- till Death spares them the misery.

Moonlight pours forth from the open window into the darkly lit room. Rukia is clad only in the sheerest of silk and bare underneath it. She feels vulnerable under his gaze, more so when his hands grab her by the wrist and tugs her towards him.

Alone with no interruptions from her ladies-in-waiting and his stewards, he continues with the unrelenting rounds of questions, fingers digging deep into her flesh.

He asks her again.

"Who are you?"

She sighs, lowering her gaze respectfully, recites it all with an even tone.

"I am Princess Orihime. I—"

He laughs- mirthless and cruel, cutting her short when the hold on her arm becomes tight enough to bruise. She hisses in response.

"No more lies. Or would you prefer me calling you by another woman's name even when we are in bed?"

She clamps her mouth shut.

"It's not that hard. I only need a name."

Silence still.

"Well if you are so unwilling. Perhaps a member of the entourage would be more forthcomi—"

"My name is Rukia."

The glare she shoots him is fierce and not at all like the simpering front she puts up.

"Who are you, Rukia?"

She bites her lips.

"A nobody."

"And why would they send me a nobody instead of the Princess, Rukia?"

Her breath hitches when his arm brushes against her side, glide across the rise of her breasts and leans in close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on hers. Fingers busy themselves with the hemline of her nightdress, cut far shorter than she is used to.

"I don't know."

"Where is the Princess, Rukia?"

She keeps quiet, clenches her fists tight enough that her nails dig into her palm. She mustn't say a word or give away the unfortunate circumstances that brought her to him, to this country and Court. The Mad King is watching even now, his spies lurking among her entourage and numerous attendants.

Her family- her father and brothers are all under his mercy.

She can't.

The price of failing is much too steep for her to bear.

"I-I don't know."

She looks at the young King dead in the eyes and lies anyway, uncaring if he sees past her lies or takes them at face value.

"Oh, is that so?"

There is a rip in her gown. The flimsy material gives way with a rough tug and Rukia steels herself, looking into her husband's eyes- amber, dark, knowing; as she steps out of the puddle of ruined silk and kisses him.

He tastes of wine- the richness of it lingering on his lips; and secrets- many of which she will never be privy to, but that's fine too. She has no use of his heart. The stiffness in the set of his shoulders gives way when she winds her arms around his neck and cards her fingers through his hair.

Sex, she has been told, serves as a good distraction- if nothing else.

He doesn't fight her.

There's a growl of approval as sinewy arms snake around her slim waist and pulls her flush along his body and under him on the bed as he does away with his clothes. Underneath them, he is broad-chested and beautiful- the lines of his body carved and sculpted like a work of art with perfection in mind. A scar here, a mark there; a trail of wispy golden hair that marks the length of his torso, leading to the –

"My eyes are here," he teases.

A collision of lips, teeth and tongues as his lips find hers again. There is heat there, a fire that she stokes when her hand brushes against his arousal- intentional or artless, she doesn't know; not when his molten gaze strips her down to her very core of neediness.

The suppleness of her flesh and her tender sex is his to do as he sees fit. His fingers tease at her nipples, parting the folds of her dripping sex and she gasps as they slide knuckle-deep into her.

"Ichigo," he tells her in between heavy grunts.

"W-What?"

She is more than a little breathless under him and the way her sex clenches and tightens- she hisses. How meaningless words have become.

"My name. You should know. That's the name you should be screaming out when I make you come."

She doesn't remember much after.

The rest of the night is a blur and blend of heady emotions, the stickiness of his spent on her inner thighs- soft moans barely recognizable as hers while he sinks into her- heavy with want, and makes a home in her warmth. Oh quivering muscles, the tight coil of nerves unravelling, the snap of his hips and the gleam in his eyes- golden and wild.

She soars and peaks with him in tandem until dawn is but moments away and he withdraws with a soft murmur.

"Sleep."

.

.

In the morning when her ladies-in-waiting find her, she is covered in bruises and bites. The ruined silk- a weak excuse for a dress to begin with- is in tatters on the floor and the unmistakable stains on the sheets mark the sharing of sins and desires.

She is sore and aching over patches of black and blue. She doesn't want company.

But company stays.

The King's orders they crow and the smiling ladies titter, nervously ushering her into a warm bath with scented oils and rose petals. The nice-smelling blend they lather into her hair sooths her tired body, enough for her to regain thoughts and some use of her limbs.

The King is an ardent lover and thorough in his exploration of her. Even now, Rukia doesn't think she has the energy left within her to even crawl unless prompted.

"Is he everything you had imagined?"

Rukia flashes back to her childhood memories. Of her at her father's lap- on the transactional nature of marriages and bridal price and dowries, and the meaning of duty, honour and love; she laughs—

And doesn't stop until tears stream down her face.

.

.

.

FF/ao3

Sneak peek for IR royalty AU dedicated to the lovely @animeokaachan​.

I couldn’t resist.

Review, like, comment, reblog or drop me an ask to send some love my way.

[jadewritings]

Rocky Road

Pairing: Sam and Dean Winchester x reader (ish)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, blood, injuries, language

Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoy this one shot loool we love protective doggos

The night was quiet, save for the crickets hiding about the grass and trees. People lay sound in their beds, maybe dreaming of things that make them happy. Everything seemed to right with the world. But not everyone believed that, not everyone had seen what you’d seen, what you’d fought.

You knew what waited in the shadows, waiting for that perfect moment to snatch their prey. And you couldn’t stand by and not help. Your parents brought you up into this world. The world no one knew. Monsters, every nightmare someone dreamed about, read about, were actually real.

But you couldn’t do it alone, you had a companion. When your parents died, it was just you and Rocky, your best friend you’d grown up with. Your first hunt together was the catalyst to everything y’all do now. Rocky was hurt that first hunt but a trip to the vet got him better. Now he was well trained and knew to listen to commands.

You whistled a bird call that signaled to Rocky to sniff out the area. His snout was the ‘super sniffer’ as you liked to call it. The two of you were steaking out a vamp nest. Not that big but there has been enough murders to do something about it.

You stepped out of your truck, machete in hand and gun in your waist band with deadman’s blood infused wooden bullets. You weren’t stupid, you knew a regular gun wouldn’t put a dent in them, so you had altered it. You walked around the abandoned building and saw Rocky sat next to a poorly chained door.

“Good boy, Rocks.” You whispered, while handing him a small treat. “Now stay here for a second okay?” You looked behind yourself at Rocky as you started to squeeze under the chains. His tongue hung out of his mouth and his lips pulled back like he was smiling. It caused you to smile, “I love you, boy.”

When you got through, you could hardly see. The room was dark but there was no missing the metallic stench. This place was a blood bath.

You stepped carefully before pulling out your pocket flashlight to see where you were going. Each room was empty and you started to get a chill down your spine. You tried to ease your racing heart, knowing if you were to panic even for a second you could die.

“Boss is thinking about turning people instead of just keeping them for food.” You hid quickly in the nearest doorway and clicked your flashlight off. A bald guy and a woman stopped at the corner you were about to round.

“Why, we’ve been doing just fine with us 7?” The girl asked.

“Rach, you know hunters are bound to find us. We need the numbers.”

The girl sighed and you could hear them start to walk away. You poked your head out and continued on when the coast was clear.

You stopped at a set of double doors, very medieval styled. You took a deep breath and shrugged your shoulders, “If shits gonna happen, shits gonna happen.” You repeated your mantra before busting through the door with your foot.

You readied your gun in anticipation but was left with a quiet room save for the noise you made busting in.

“What the hell?” You didn’t lower your gun but were definitely taken off guard. You walked forward to a long table in the center of the room, pools of blood dripping off the sides. You looked around, cautious, but still nothing.

“So much for a dramatic entrance.” You huffed a laugh to yourself. Before you could react, you were tossed over the table and into the wall behind it, your gun flung from your hand.

You groaned and rubbed your back before getting up and taking your machete out to look at your attackers.

You recognized them, “Oh well hello again. You two lovebirds done with your quarrel I take it?” You smiled and raised your eyebrows at the two vampires you’d saw walking in the hall. They hissed and bared their fangs.

You grimaced, “Have you ever brushed those things? They’re lookin pretty gnarly.” They jumped over the table and raced at you. You dodged the girl to your left, a clean slice through her neck took care of her. The guy looked angry and ran at you, knocking the machete to the ground and pinned you to the ground. With your arms held firmly to the ground you couldn’t move. The vampire leaned down to take a bite out of your neck.

You turned to the door just as Rocky barked at you, “Rocks!” You yelled. He rushed at the guy and was effective in distracting him. Rocky jumped and bit the vampires neck. You took the opportunity to shove him off of you but the vamp flung Rocky into the wall and his attention was instantly back on you.

“No!” You cried out when you heard him whimper. The vamp rushed at you again and slammed your head into the concrete wall. As hard as you struggled, you couldn’t keep your focus on anything other than your dog.

The pressure of being held loosened and the head fell from the vamps shoulders. You slid down the wall and crawled the rest of the way to Rocky without paying attention to your savior.

You sniffled, “Rocky, Rocks? It’s okay,” you stroked his fur as he whimpered, “you’re gonna be okay, alright? We’ll get you to a vet and you’ll be all fixed up again okay?”

You heard a voice clear their throat behind you and for once you turned to your savior, or, saviors.

Two tall and handsome strangers. One was blonde and shorter than the other brunette one which held the machete that saved your ass. You stood and raised your weapon to them, “Stay back or I swear to god I’ll behead you too.” 

The blonde raised his hands in surrender but your vision went sideways and your head throbbed. You groaned as you put your hand to your forehead. The next thing you heard was the clink of the machete on the ground and your body feeling like it was falling forward before you blacked out.

Before you knew it, you were waking up in a bed of a motel that definitely didn’t look like yours. You sprung up, holding a hand to your throbbing head. Groaning, your eyes scanned the room looking for Rocky.

He was on the bed next to yours, bandages wrapped tightly around his abdomen. You swung your legs over the bed just as the motel door opened.

The brunette you had a vague memory of stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“How are you feeling?”

You were cautious, slowly moving over to your dogs side. You remembered they had saved you but still, a lot of people didn’t always have good intentions.

“I’m fine.” Your only response before the shower you didn’t notice was on till now had turned off.

“My name is Sam. My brother in there is Dean. You have no obligation to trust us but we’re truly only helping you.” He must have noticed the way your eyes narrowed and your body tensed when he got closer.

He held out a brown paper bag, full of medical supplies for both human and animal, once you took a look inside. Dean stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a blue t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

He looked up and between the two of you, before reaching into the mini fridge and handed you a water.

“Thanks.” You mumbled. You gulped some down before letting yourself relax on the bed. You curled onto your left side, slowly stroking Rocky’s fur as he slept.

The room filled with silence, making it unbearable to hold in the tears. You sniffled. It was a simple job. Rocky didn’t have to get hurt yet you still allowed it to happen. He was supposed to stay outside until you were done and had handled the job. But here he was, injured, because of you.

“You know,” Sam started, breaking the silence, “He came to us.”

That made you look at them. You rubbed your eyes of the tears, “What?”

That prompted Dean to speak, “We heard him barking. He ran at us and we followed. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have made it to you in time.” Dean gave you a small smile before looking to Rocky.

That made you feel a little better.

“Thank you. You know, for saving me- and Rocky.”

“It was our pleasure, sweetheart.” Dean’s soft smile made your heart beat just a little faster. Who knew? Maybe you’d get over hunting alone.

Want to be tagged in my writing? Add yourself here! Just send an ask if you only want to be tagged in this!

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[heartshapedstrand]

[Between Life and Death] II

Shhhh......

Sleep....

Heartman felt his feet washed over with the bone-achingly cold ocean water. Through the haze he could see her outline.

“Alianne... wait..” His voice was faint, as if he couldn’t catch his breath. The water was to his knees.

Sleep, my darling. It’s just a dream.

“Wait..! Please!”

Administering shock.

Heartman gasped as he came to. He felt so heavy, tears burned his eyes and cheeks. Ever since these ... visions? Dreams, Beaches, whatever, began, the man found it harder and harder not to resent the cycles.

For the first time in 10 years, the pain of it crept in. It was nearly physical how much it hurt him to be within reach of her again only to be jerked back from the Beach and awaken alone and lonely.

In those moments, he wept and wished he dared just... remove the AED and let his heart stop. Forever.

And as now, he curled in on himself in his specialized chair and hugged himself around the AED strapped to his chest and wept bitterly for the circumstances thrust upon him by the voidouts, BTs, and his own obsession.

Sometimes, someone back in Capital Knot would try to make contact. He almost never answered the calls, but he would reply to emails, sometimes. He only answered a call if it was Sam, anymore.

Somehow, he understood. Sam never asked, and he never told him to stop his foolish mission. Self-destruction by three minute intervals.

His Codec rang minutes after he’d come back. It was Sam. Like he knew, somehow, he always knew.

Heartman cleared his throat before answering. “Hello, Sam.”

“Heartman? You okay?”

Seconds of silence, Heartman drew in a breath. “Of course. I’ve been a bit tired lately. On the road, as usual?”

“Nah, actually I was..” Sam sighed, “You remember what he talked about a while ago? About bringing Lou to your lab sometimes?”

A small spark, but the thought of little Lou and Sam seemed to revive him a little more. “Yes, indeed I do. How is little Lou?”

“She’s doing alright. Curious of everything and learning ferociously fast. Deadman thinks the only reason she hasn’t started talking yet is because her vocal cords aren’t developed enough yet. We’re all certain she fully understands anything we say.”

“My, that is fascinating!” Heartman was on his feet again, wiping away the evidence of his tears and opening a window in his workstation screen. “Perhaps we can teach her another language? I’d bet she’d learn it as easily as English.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Sam was quiet, but Heartman could hear Lou laughing in the background. Sam gave a soft chuckle, and Heartman smiled wide, affection bubbling in his chest as it often did with them.

“I don’t suppose you have a day in mind to come here?”

“Yeah, I was thinking in just a few days, if you’ll have time to prepare, or whatever? I’ll make a trek up there with some supplies and then we’ll have Fragile bring Lou.”

“It won’t take me long at all, Sam. I’ve plenty of time, as you know, to make all preparations for her to stay.” Heartman cleared his throat, about to ask another question, but it caught in this throat. Nerves, on such a simple thing. “I don’t suppose you’ll stay here often as well? I have room for you, too.”

“Sure,” Sam responded, more quickly than he’d expected. “Between orders, I’ll want to spend time with Lou, so... And the distro centers and Knot cities are so ... crowded.”

“I understand completely, Sam. I would happily have you stay here.” Heartman was typing up some plans, things to fabricate, ideas to ask later. “You are always welcome at my lab, you know. Anytime, with or without a reason.”

Three minutes until cardiac arrest.

Sam cleared his throat, a moment of embarrassment, Heartman smiled shyly to himself. Lou cackled a delighted sound. “Thank you, Heartman. I’ll... I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yes, and thank you, too. Goodbye for now.”

The signal dropped, and silence stretched. The sounds of Heartman’s life support monitoring system seemed loud. Two minutes. He sighed, and felt a weight of dread and sadness drop onto him again. His chest ached.

One minute.

Heartman returned to chair. 30 seconds. He clicked through some windows rapidly. Then, a picture on his display, a candid shot taken by Lockne and sent to him.

Sam smiling, unknowing he had a witness, and holding Lou, who held onto each of Sam’s index fingers.

5 4 3 2 1

Flatline.

Shhhhh.....

[aleksikesa]

Sorry I have to subject y’all to my abysmal music taste but @jarbaje insisted so I must, here’s my top 10 favorite songs currently:

Late Night by Foals

Handmade Ego by TENDER

Gehrman, The First Hunter form the Bloodborne OST

Torquemada from the RDR1 OST (I’ve been looking for this track for YEARS and only just found it a few days ago, I’m obsessed 😩👌🏼)

Sink into the Floor by Feng Suave

Mind Games by Sickick

Science/Visions by Chvrches

Stigmata by grandson

Auriel’s Ascension from the TES IV: Oblivion OST

We Move Easy by Welshly Arms

Idk how many people I’m supposed to tag but if you feel like it! @elenafishersps1 @deadmans-gun @suncaprisun @technicdevil @cootschapel

[bluboothalassophile]

(Calling in a favor on this one haha) I’ve been associating “Stay (Faraway, So Close)” by U2 with both Raven & Constantine lately and I’d love to see your interpretation/inspiration you could take from it for ur Dad Constantine AU. Most specifically the line/feeling from the line “stay with demons you drowned/stay with the spirit I found”. Love to hear what you think of the song too. Thanks Blu!

Hello,

Honestly, not a huge fan of the song, but the line you asked me to work with I think worked out rather well. I hope you enjoy!

Spectre…

Constantine looked at his girl and softened as she lay therein the hospital bed; it had been sudden; the attack. Something which no one hadbeen prepared for; least of all, him, and Raven had been with him at the time.It was the Justice League Watch Tower, a place supposed to be safe!

Obviously, he had overestimated the fucking Yoga Pants Club.

He had been talking with his eldest, Zatanna and Dr. Fatewhen it had happened.

The attack was from the Spectre, the enraged ghost had beenmisguided in it’s attack, however, Raven’s soul the price. Constantine didn’tknow how she had done it, but his daughter had torn through that Watch Towerand grappled with the most lethal, and dangerous of beings in their universe,without a thought, attempting to tear the Spectre down.

It was his fault, always his fault, now his baby was here.

Spectre had been directed at him for the murder of some witchor other he’d once been involved with from LA. Problem was, the Spectre never omittedwhen he was wrong, and Raven’s fury, and her unharnessed emotions had nearlytorn the fabrics of reality, even as the Spectre tore her soul apart.

Now she was here, hooked up to a thousand machines, and herheart was beating.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured keeping her hand clasped firmly inhis hands and pressed to his cheek. She was only thirteen, and so tiny. Sotiny, so fragile. He furiously blinked the tears away as a machine made herbreath in this steady abnormal rhythm.

“I’ve contacted Zed,” Deadman said appearing over Rae. Constantinenever took his eyes from his daughter’s struggling body.

“Is she?”

“I can’t find her on this side Constantine,” Deadmanomitted. He nodded, the tears were welling up, blurring his vision. “I’ll askRama Kushna, but I ain’t findin’ her soul over here.”

“Where did the Spectre take it!?” he muttered in frustrationdragging his free hand through his hair. He stared at Raven, who was stillbeing forced to breath, if she didn’t reconnect with her soul soon there’d beno point in these machines, nothing would keep her alive.

“Constantine,” a hand was on his shoulder and he looked upat his eldest. Zatanna smiled a bit; weakly.

“Boston’s here,” was all he said.

“Thank you Boston,” she said and Constantine felt Deadmanleave then. “Bats is here to talk to you, I’ll stay with here.”

“Zed’s coming,” he said, not getting up yet.

“Kay,” the teen nodded. He looked at Raven again, and got upreluctantly.

“I’ll be back luv, don’t worry about a thing,” he murmuredkissing her brow as he forced himself to let her go. Zatanna took his place,and he watched his girls as Zatanna combed Raven’s purple hair back a bit. Hewalked into the hall and saw Bruce there, the Bat gave him a tight nod and heshoved his hands in his pockets.

“How’s she doing?”

“Physically, she’ll heal,” he admitted. “Not having her soulthough, that’ll kill her,” he said.

“This isn’t your fault Constantine,” Bruce started.

“The Hell It Isn’t!” he seethed stepping towards the Bat. “Thatlittle girl in there is my fucking life line, has been since she was eight yearsold! The only reason I am not some bum in a trench coat who every miserableface on this fucking planet dreads running into is because of that little girl.And I will Be DAMNED if My Daughter Goes To Hell, AGAIN, THAT’S MY DAUGHTER!”he screamed it at Bruce. “And she is only here because she is my daughter.”

“We will save her,” Bruce stated firmly.

“Save the bloody fairy tales for your Robins, that girl wasforged in the bowels of hell and all the hellfire in the world couldn’t melther down. But a fucking ghost with her soul can cut her down,” he snapped.

“Constantine, you can’t think this way,” Bruce started.

“Why the fuck not!? This is my bloody reality, and it’s bullocks!Now, unless you have my daughter’s soul trapped in one of this infinite amountof pockets in your utility belt; I am going to go and be with her, because shedoesn’t have much time left if we don’t find her soul, and I refuse to let hereven dare to think she died alone.” Constantine walked back into the room tosee Raven still breathing. Zatanna got up from his seat and he collapsed in itas his daughter summoned another one.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Bruce hated magic, he hated it because he didn’t know how tohelp. His son’s best friend, his friend’s daughter, was laying there utterlyhelpless and he didn’t know how to help because it was magic. He hated magic.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Zed searched wildly for a hint of Raven’s soul as she toreher eyes through all the planes of existence and focused. It was killing her,but she had to find her daughter’s soul; because the Spectre had NO RIGHT tosever that from her daughter. And when she got done with the Spectre she wasgoing to give that ghost a piece of her mind.

But first, she searched through all the possible futures forRaven’s soul; time was not on her side in this matter. Nabu stood behind her asher hands worked each sketch quickly for a hint.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Zatanna bit her lip as she stared at her little sister; wasthis what Dick had meant when she could feel helpless. God above she was such afool, so angry with Nabu for using her father as a host, but now… Now herlittle sister was dying all because no one knew where Raven’s soul was.

Scary to think the little demon wasn’t soulless and neededher soul just like they all did.

She was such a fool. And now Raven could die and she didn’tknow anything about her baby sister! Zatanna wanted to scream at Spectre.

[brothersgrim]

♡ what do Elise's attempts to reach out mean to Kane?

Send me ♡ + a word, and I’ll write a headcanon. || Accepting

I’ll tell you, it would mean a lot more if she wasn’t who she was. Or rather, if her father wasn’t who he was. Triple H, one of the leaders of DX. Kane and DX, as you might know, have a colourful history.

No, let me rephrase that. 

DX has made Kane’s life even more of a Hell than it already was since the day he met them. He hates them. I’m going to give a brief rundown of events that I just remember off the top of my head, in no particular order:

- DX launches a vicious assault against The Undertaker. He holds his own until he’s overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Kane comes out, and everyone expects him to side with DX and beat his brother. Instead, Kane grabs Triple H by the hair, yanks him off of ‘Taker, and knocks the sense out of H, sending DX packing. This is, I believe, the first time since his debut that Kane aligns himself with his brother. It’s also the first time ‘Taker has ever genuinely smiled on TV. 

- Triple H and Chyna jump Kane in the parking lot with metal pipes and a spanner. Despite being in the middle of a feud, ‘Taker comes charging in, Big Show in tow, to chase them off. Kane, the Devil’s Favourite Demon, was beaten so horribly he can’t stand, and struggles even to reach out and hold on to his big brother’s leg as Taker stands over him like a snarling watchdog until H and Chyna are long gone. Later that evening, Kane seemed to have recovered, and declared revenge on them in the middle of the ring. He doused Trips, Chyna, and their car in gasoline in an attempt to burn them all to ash. When that doesn’t work, he strangles Triple H nearly to unconsciousness, and pursues Chyna down the hall when she attempts to intervene and quickly regrets it. 

- DX makes a mockery of the Undertaker, and by extension, Kane’s experiences. So, Kane and Taker are often not on the same page. Everyone knows that. During the peak of one of their earlier feuds, Kane (backed by Paul) defeats Taker and locks him in a casket. Kane takes an axe to the casket, douses it in gas, and burns it, and then Taker’s AWOL for a bit. At one point, it looks like he’s made his return. The gong sounds, the music plays, lights slowly come on to reveal a familiar figure in the ring… And it’s Shawn Michaels dressed as the Deadman, before he starts dancing around the ring to DX’s music and stripping down. Trips and Chyna come out with barbecuing gear and they proceed to have a ‘cookout’ to burn the ‘Taker clothes Shawn had somehow gotten a hold of. Kane was pissed off at this for a few reasons. Firstly, it’s blatantly disrespecting his brother, and, excuse him, you insipid little pricks, only he’s allowed to do that. He and Paul. Not you, never you. But also, that whole barbecue thing? Kane setting Taker’s casket on fire was meant to be symbolic. As far as he knows, his brother set the funeral home fire. The fire that cost him his home, his parents, his skin, half his vision, his sanity, his speech for more than half his life, and his freedom. So, trapping ‘Taker and burning him was supposed to be some sort of poetic retribution. Real ‘eye for an eye’ thing, you know? And then DX comes out like ‘lmao what a fun backyard barbecue :))))) we remembered our chef hats!!!’ Like… Do I even need to say why that’s obscenely disrespectful? 

- Literally the entire XPac and Tori deal. God, it’s a doozy. I’ll do my best so summarize for anyone who has trouble remembering: XPac befriended Kane, much to Undertaker’s suspicion. Taker didn’t trust ‘Pac for a second, and sparked a feud with him as he tried to warn Kane that his new friend was bad news and took literally any opportunity to throw ‘Pac through the floor. The problem was that XPac presented himself not only as Kane’s first friend after two decades of solitude, but also as his best friend. He coaxed Kane into speaking on his own for the first time since the fire. … He also told Kane that DX would be happy to have him, if he could just prove that he deserved a spot in their stable. You can see where this is going. XPac basically conned Kane into doing DX’s dirty work and heavy lifting under the premise of people finally accepting him. There were a few times where they’d lose or things would go badly, and ‘Pac would just walk out on Kane, leaving him alone in the ring or back stage, but how was Kane supposed to know that’s not what best friends did? He never had anyone. There’s a brief moment where it looks like Kane is going to reconsider. ‘Pac calls Kane out to the ring and tells him that even though he knows Kane’s starting to make up and work things out with ‘Taker, that his brother is bad news and manipulative and a liar, whereas he (XPac) has always been honest with Kane. Kane is visibly upset by this, stays silent for the entire segment, and keeps trying to turn away, but ‘Pac gets in his face and lays down an ultimatum: If Kane wants to keep being his friend, if he wants to have a shot at DX, he’ll cut all ties with his brother then and now, because if he has anything to do with the Undertaker none of them will want him. (Sidenote: Invalidating other relationships and isolating your victim is literally Abuse Tactics 101.) Again, Kane says nothing. The rest of DX comes out of nowhere and starts a brawl. Pac hops out of the ring and leaves Kane to fend for himself. Like his brother, Kane’s able to hold his own well until the numbers game takes its toll. ‘Taker comes sprinting - and I mean sprinting - down the ramp, hauls them off of Kane, and clears the ring of everyone else so Kane can get to his feet. Taker steps up to Kane, and with unbroken eye contact says a line that hit me deep. 

“Kane… I am your brother. And I will not make you choose. I would never ask you to choose.” 

Local murdercult leader gently points out to his baby brother that he’s being treated poorly and shouldn’t have to put up with it on main. Taker leaves the ring, but lingers at the top of the ramp. Pac tries to convince Kane to stay, but after a moment of consideration and hesitation, Kane leaves with big brother and is later seen getting a(n inaudible) pep talk from the Lord of Darkness back stage to make him feel better. So that’s part one. Kane does eventually switch sides to side with ‘Pac again, after Taker interrupts a match and almost kills Pac. Kane lays him out before Taker can explain (and he does turn around, hands up, like he’s about to have some patient conversation to lay out why he hates Kane’s ‘friend’ so much). After re-siding with Pac and going back to being his glorified guard dog, stringing him along for a bit, Pac and the rest of DX decide to tell Kane that, you know what? There’s no place for him in DX. There was never a place for him in DX. They don’t want him.

Some time during this mess, Kane met Tori and fell in love with her. She was, according to the announcers, his first love, first girlfriend. He would have given her the world. He basically acts like she’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen. He’s by her side, he’s constantly protecting her, totally indulgent, ruthless with anyone who upsets her but the most gentle we’ve ever seen his character when it comes to handling her himself. Boy got bit by the Love Bug so bad. During a pre-Christmas episode, DX challenges Kane to a match, where if he loses, Tori has to spend Christmas with XPac. He lost. He lost her. The day DX is supposed to give her back, Kane’s an anxious wreck. They show a clip of him waiting for her out back. He’s pacing back and forth, back and forth, over and over again, and according to the commentators, he’s been out there for a while. When they’re finally reunited, Kane clings to her. Literally holds her as close as he can and just wraps around her, like he’s afraid someone will try and pull her from his arms again. Like I said, he had it bad. She’s all sweet with him, pulling out all the pet names, stroking his face (mask) and his arms as she tells him what a great time she had with ‘Pac and what a gentleman he was. Kane is understandably confused, but is pacified when Tori tells him that he was all she thought about while they were apart. … She then starts telling Kane stories about how other superstars were hurting her to send him on a warpath. Incidentally, the guys she talks about are all of the people DX has problems with. She eggs Kane on in the ring, reminding him that these guys hurt her over and over and yelling at him to hit harder, hit again, rip them apart, and he very nearly murders Test in the ring as a result. It’s one of the most vicious matches at the time. Test, the entire time, was confused and pleading his innocence. He had zero idea what either of them were talking about. 

Not too long after, DX once again mobs Kane, They tie him down and restrain him in the ring and beat the hell out of him while XPac announces to the world that, actually, on Christmas Eve, Tori had been cheating on Kane with him. Kane is understandably upset by this. Tori originally denies it, then switches to begging for Kane’s forgiveness… Then seemingly decides ‘whatever’, kisses XPac, and walks out with DX, arm in arm with Pac and leaving Kane still tied down, beaten and broken-hearted, in the ring. Remember, Pac was the best friend he left his own brother behind for, and Tori was the girlfriend he was willing to kill for to protect. Kane eventually has a handicap match against XPac. Pac’s accompanied by Tori, and his partner is - wait for it - Triple H (with Stephanie). Kane dismantles them like it’s an art form. Beats H into an unconscious heap, has Pac crumpled in a corner begging for the ref to call him off, and Kane’s still going after them. Steph has to shield Trips from a furious demon with a chair, so he moves on to Pac, and if it wasn’t for Tori yanking the chair out of Kane’s hands he probably would’ve ended his former best friend right there. About six or seven refs come in the ring, Kane lays all of them out like it’s going out of style, and then turns on Tori. He’s egged on by Paul, He’s angry, he’s hurt, he wants revenge, she hurt him so badly… But he still hesitates. He lets her go. She stands up and starts touching him again, face and arms and hair and saying that she knew he still loved her. … And that’s when he tombstones her, but he hesitated. If she’d just left, he might not have. The Big Red Machine, The Devil’s Favourite Demon, the monster, hesitated. I cannot say enough how much he’d loved her and how grievously her betrayal hurt him. (For the record, during Kane’s assault on Tori, Steph, H, and Pac are hiding out on the ramp. Pac seems distressed but doesn’t do anything. Kane, on the other hand, had left entire matches behind to go after ringsiders who had tried to hurt Tori, back when they were together.)

- There’s also the Katie Vick storyline. I don’t acknowledge ‘Katie Vick’ as being a real thing in Kane’s history, as it doesn’t make any sense, so we can either decide this never happened, or was just H spreading really insidious and gross lies (which is kind of what happened in WWE canon, anyway), once again mocking the fact that Kane lost everyone he loved and people will believe anything about him in the worst way.

- Triple H and Chyna were both part of the Corporation, back when they had Kane assaulted, committed, and forced into being McMahon’s lapdog. 

- Shawn Michaels using the whole ‘May 19th’ thing to set Kane off and get him to hurt people because that’s exactly how you respond to someone with PTSD right??

- Their most recent feud in 2018 shows that the brothers haven’t forgiven them even a decade later.

… And this is just what I remember off of the top of my head. I’m sure if I searched it up, I could find a lot more. The point is, Kane’s been lied to, manipulated, abused, and hurt by DX since Day 1, and he stopped buying what they were selling a long time ago. So, before he knew who she was? It was nice. Confusing, and something he’d probably ask Paul or his brother about, but nice. Now? Knowing who she is, and what the past has held? He’s a lot less inclined to take it at face value. 

[rowanthestrange]

I think the intended theme of Kerblam was hugely overshadowed by the fact that the episode didn't address that Kerblam didn't even try to keep their workers safe. The main issue I found was that the scene at the end implied the murders couldn't have been prevented without the doctor's expertise. A responsible employer would have supended work until the power drains were fixed (I'm assuming that's why any security systems were down allowing charlie to escape notice)

*hides face in hands*

You’re right. You are - my expression is not…oh it’s not for you.

I mean I’m not sure there was a set intended theme, it was bothsided to hell, but yeah, definitely…there was definitely an issue there with it not actually addressing anything.

*leans back*

The power drains were - in my understanding - because of both Terrorist Boy messing around with the system, but far more importantly, was because the system itself was trying to channel a lot of energy into one place. The power-drain that occurs when the bot tries to kill him for example.

It isn’t clear. How much of it is under the system’s control is not explored.

Leading neatly to your next point - the system needs the Doctor’s expertise.

Why?

It would have succeeded in killing Terrorist Boy had it been smarter about it. Not done it around people. Sure maybe it’s trying to basically scream ‘He’s the bad guy!’ but that’s not obvious, nor apparently necessary, because kill him and there’s no backup, no deadman’s handle, you’re done. Statistically the guy has been alone at some point, and there were no ‘we cannot murder’ rules implied, so off you go chums.

Maybe the robots didn’t want to murder him - a good theme that would have tied perfectly into both the terrorism and the themes being built in this series, and does work with them knowing the Doctor would stop it.

But that didn’t happen. I just made that up. None of this stuff was explained, nothing addressed. The roots for this episode are so good and go nowhere.

Explain why they don’t care about power outages in a 90% automated factory. Use it for character development with the woman - she doesn’t care and is lighthearted about it because she’s in people, while the rest of the company is having kittens - because that is a big deal and everyone would have noticed.

And this place clearly can’t just shut down for a month, are you joking?! Unless you’re playing a Bad Wolf Satellite Whatever with this, the consequences would be absolutely huge. Space Amazon shuts down, only gives its workers half that time off as paid leave, and it’s clearly the backbone of the Kandokan economy, that’s on last legs enough that Kira’s never got a goddamn Amazon delivery in her life, but also where six year olds print metal pendants for their Daddies.

And if you still want to do all this, then make it a goddamn point that THIS IS WHY YOU NEED PEOPLE. Not in meaningless goddamn packing, but that if you had PEOPLE paying close attention, they would have been more likely to catch the flaws in the system, or notice it being abused and be able to act on it. Slade was clearly useless - cut that character, he’s only a red herring anyway, and use all that time and energy to give us context with the robots.

Warning From The Future: This fix-it got long

But if I’m allowed to make changes, just off the top of my head, I axe Kira too. Don’t kill off Lee Mack (no I’m not gonna learn the character’s name) so quickly, and then you already have a ‘human’ element in the plot and he fits it well. Kira only exists for man-pain and to humanise Terrorist Boy - which you’re already doing with Graham (Their scenes should have been much the same, but highlighting some extremist tendencies - particularly his odd choice of referring to the system as He - and clearly indicating that no-one talks to this kid enough to see them). Also fewer humans would help sell this idea of the 90-10% thing. Swap team positions - the Doctor goes down and meets Mack (because she’s already sympathetic to the robots so needs to become less so, and this leads to lots of little opportunities to dig at Amazon, capitalism, workers rights etc), and Yaz and Ryan are on packing. It gives Ryan a chance to be good at something in front of Yaz for a change, lets Yaz do some competent police work that actually goes somewhere (seriously McTighe), and Ryan we’ve seen be sceptical but sweet before with the baby situation, so therefore he takes notice of the robots (because he needs to be more sympathetic to them and is a better audience avatar). The combination of him being emotionally intelligent, and Yaz cognitively intelligent, means they work out the origin of the ‘Help Me’ which also fits the fact that Yaz was the only one to notice the message at all. Meanwhile, the Doctor and Mack are facing robot villains. Hmm that’s weird. They run to find each other, Yaz and Thirteen probably doing the grabbing each others forearms thing, and say at the same time “The robots are trying to kill us” “The robots are asking for help”, look at each other in confusion, and that’s when Graham and Terrorist Boy (foreshadowing) show up with the maps. Woman (don’t remember if she had a name, sorry) can show up again, having done some digging and phoning around (she uses a large phone, not a large tablet), and has found the people never made it back home. She’s panicking, the Doctor still gets her ‘If you are lying to me’ moment, etc. etc. things progress, plot as before, but instead of losing Kira, we lose Mack - pendant left behind. In trying to find him, the tracker lures Yaz and Ryan away from the others (Terrorist Boy’s intent was to get everyone, but that’s this Scooby-Doo team for you with the splitting up). Ryan is the one that nearly gets blown to bits by the bubble-wrap because of course he does, his defining character trait is to effing touch everything. Terrorist Boy gives himself away by legging it as Ryan moves to grab it, and Yaz saves him, cus she has good instincts and reflexes. Maybe a robot then says “Would you like me to dispose of this an an environmentally conscious way” - subtext layers, and at a safe distance, pops it - the system showing what damage it can do. This also acts as a set-up for the scene with the robots exploding it later, and makes it look less like the Doctor committing mass robo-murder (and prevents the robots from having to be deliberate murderers themselves). Doctor having got Twirly etc. hijacks a bot teleporter, and with the Woman and Graham finds the soup, etc. etc. same as before. That Terrorist Boy pegged it before, makes sense as to why Yaz didn’t catch him and restrain him, and everyone meets up again. This time though, we have some space. Have the Doctor excitedly (almost obscenely) working things out, while Graham explains the soup - clearly ruffled, and Yaz gets the Woman to bring up the details of Lee Mack’s family. If there’s thirty seconds to spend on how she’s had to call in a lot of dead bodies but never explain it to people’s families, do it now, leave her staring at the phone. Doctor comes to her excited conclusion, and the Terrorist Boy suddenly shows up threatening people with a detonator. Yaz stands (she looks extra shaken), but she’s behind, clearly looks to the Doctor who takes charge (characterisation, shows where she sees herself and her trust in the Doctor, and explains why she isn’t more active yet). Scene, scene, etc, etc, all the bullshit about millennials = bad obviously removed, Graham actually gets most of the attempted calming lines, and it nearly works. But as it fails, the Doctor gets in with him “Killing the people he was supposed to be trying to save”, that to him the people are no more real than the robots - oh no? Prove it. Grabs the phone from Yaz’s hand, which is still on, turns the volume up, and forces him to listen to the six year old asking for her Daddy and telling him to stop being silly. It’s almost on the edge of cruelty, and we see that glimmer in her eyes again. It doesn’t work. It’s his plan, his vision, he’s going to be the one to take control, he he he. But it’s not funny. It’s all about him and his power fantasy, and that becomes increasingly clear the longer you let him talk. (Him stomping on the device is more explicitly visually framed as a mirror for the Doctor doing the same for the neo-neo-nazi’s Vortex Manipulator, but it isn’t explained, just complex forshadowing for the Doctor’s monster breakdown later). Yaz never grabs for him and fails, we just go straight to him running into the bots - maybe standing on the balcony railing first to get a proper little-hitler shot above his tin soldiers, then jumping down to hide among them. But as before, the Doctor doesn’t stop him getting blown to pieces. At the end, the need for more humans to manage the system and particularly to work with each other is noticed, and that’s what the human positions should be for - what humans are good at, noticing patterns and each other. There’s no ‘lol Graham what are you like’ moment in the TARDIS, it’s just Yaz’s feeling of failure as a Police Officer shining unspoken in her eyes, and her request to go see the daughter personally being honoured, while Graham is drinking a cup of tea and watching Ryan intently (clearly been hammered by events, but taking comfort in his own odd-but-blessedly-harmless boy), while Ryan pokes and prods at Twirly, whom apparently they never actually gave back. And it ends with the Doctor once again being rebuffed as company, Yaz leaving the TARDIS, kid’s necklace in hand, and walking into a room across the camera - the Kerblam! poster with Mack’s face on the wall behind her.

I’ve only watched the episode once, and I don’t have a transcript to refer to yet, so might be missing some pieces, but broadly speaking.

And I appreciate that the Kira scene and the ‘You had a plan, but you weren’t expecting to fall in love’ is almost certainly meant to be a Direct Mirror for a future scene with The Doctor and Yaz, but without Chibnall over my shoulder and saying that has to be in there, the transition to the concept of general filial/agape love works for me.

Apologies. Bit longer than I expected. I just started writing and it kept flowing. Apparently I did have some concrete ideas about how to fix it. Sorry, wow.

[aerotey]

Glassy Sky

I violently awoke from my slumber, not knowing why until I heard two loud knocks at the door. It would seem whoever is outside is getting impatient. I looked out the window to see that it was the dead of night.

“I’m comin’.” I called before rushing to the door. I opened it and was met by two men, both had dark ruffled hair and eyes, as well as tanned skin that was being stretched by their smiles. It was my best friends Benjamin and William, we would often joke about how I looked more like a noble than a commoner, with my fair complexion, blond hair, and green eyes. The only thing stopping me from passing as one was my ratted clothes, and speech. I grew very confused, there was no logical reason for them to show up at my house at this hour.

“C’mon we’ve got to show you somethin’!” Benjamin said, in a bit of a drawl due to his lack of education. We all lacked in education, after all, peasants didn’t need to know grammar to work in the fields. William promptly grabbed my arm and proceeded to drag me out the door, only pausing to allow me to shut it, not that it would stop anyone who truly wanted to get in, not that anyone would, I was dirt poor. The wood of the door was rotted from the water damage caused by the rain over the years, the hinges were rusted and the lock was broken.

“Where are we goin’?” I asked, more exasperated than anything.

“Bed n Bar!” William said as if that held all the answers.

“But you know it's closed at this hour!” I said, flabbergasted. Neither of them said anything for the rest of our walk to the Bed n Bar, which also happened to be the most popular tavern in the capital.

When we arrived the tavern appeared to be empty. Nobody was loitering around its outer brick walls and no light shone out through its paned windows. However, William and Benjamin quickly dragged me through the door and into the cellar, where I was flooded with light. I was catching snippets of conversation about raids and theft. I was confused and looked at William, my face conveying that I was demanding he explain to me what was going on. “This has been goin’ on for weeks now. We here are what make up the resistance.” William said.

“Of what?” I asked incredulously.

“The rule of the king, we be fighting for equality we is.” Benjamin said proudly. I could only gape at him. Looking around the room I saw no weapons and only a handful of people. If they were plotting a rebellion than they surely weren’t prepared. I supposed that was one reason peasants didn't receive an education, so we couldn't fight back.

“Attention!” a stranger called from the front of the room. “We are gathered to discuss the raid on the tax collectors carriage comin’ up from Briarton next week!” the other men gave cheers. It was only when they were talking about stealing the money while it was in the clearing south of the Brooke that I objected. There was a steep hilling further south than that called Deadman’s Tumble, the name was ironic because nobody had ever died there.

“Wait! The clearing wouldn't give you the cover you need and they would see you in wait. Why not ambush it at Deadman’s Tumble? You would be upon them before they knew what was happenin’.” I stated. Everyone in the room froze, including William and Benjamin. Then the man at the front of the room broke into a smile.

“That’s some good thinkin’ right there.” he said and began to plan for the ambush. Whatever tension that had come upon the room seemed to have vanished. It was a while later before Benjamin leaned over and explained to me that that was their leader. The sheer idiocy! I barely know anything at all about strategy and yet I knew an ambush was better than a charge!

After the meeting Benjamin, William and I were standing by the mural of the sky that had been painted on the east wall of the tavern earlier that month. Benjamin and William were discussing the ambush and plans of the “rebellion” when its leader approached us. “That was some good ideas in there. How’d you like to take over? To be honest I ain't got the slightest clue what I'm doing.” he said.

“No tha-”

“I'm sure he’d like that!” I was cut off by Benjamin.

“Great!” the man said and proceeded to walk away.

“What are you doin’? I ain’t got the slightest clue how to lead this thing!” I whispered angrily.

“Bet you you can still do a better job than him.” Benjamin said. I sighed and went back to admiring the mural, this time around the chips in the paint stood out more, making the mural seem more old and shabby than beautiful.

Two weeks later, the ambush at deadman’s tumble had finally come, we were waiting out of sight on top of the steep hills surrounding the road. We waited there for what was likely to be hours until the carriage finally came into sight, I waited until it was just underneath us until I gave the signal, and with it, we charged.

The ambush had gone exactly as planned, we had slaughtered the escorts for the carriage and the people inside and taken the money. However, now that I was standing in my house, staring at my reflection in a shard of glass from the carriage I had picked up after the battle. My face was smeared with dirt and had cuts all over, yet that was not the damage I was searching for. I had killed three men today, many more under my orders but I didn’t look any different. Why was that? I shouldn’t- no, I couldn’t be okay after killing people. It wasn’t right! Suddenly my hair felt too heavy, my limbs too long and my skin too tight. My chest began to feel constricted and it was like the walls were closing in on me, my hand grew tight on the glass as I tried to sort out what I was feeling. Frustration? Anger? The more I tried to think the more chaotic my thoughts grew and how I was feeling worsened. My skin grew extremely itchy, from the blood coating me or something else I didn’t know. The itch grew and my breathing became labored. It felt like the very sky should come crashing down upon me, crushing and killing me with its weight as, unlike Atlas, I don’t believe I would be able to hold it up. With a scream I ripped off my shirt, scratching my arms violently. I watched with morbid fascination and calm as blood beaded up from the cuts. The itch and tightness from earlier were all gone. I do not know how long I sat just watching the blood run down my arms until I finally pulled myself from the floor. It was strange, I thought, looking in the mirror, how I now looked like I felt inside, with the wounds I had inflicted upon myself.

Slowly the resistance attracted more people, soon everyone in the lower class in the capital and surrounding towns were on board, and I still had no clue what I was doing. Benjamin and William soon became my right-hand men, we discussed all ideas before presenting them. However, we finally had the stupidest idea yet, in a months time we would be storming the castle. By that point, we would number around a thousand and have weaponry for at least five hundred of us. We were relying on numbers alone and the cooperation of everyone in the surrounding towns.

The night of the storm was here, we had 500 guns and were hiding in the dense forest around the castle gate. There was no order to how we were lined up, because we only had a haphazard plan, for everyone to run into the castle and kill anyone they saw. We were all wearing red armbands to declare ourselves a member of the rebellion. However, when the time came for the people we had inside to open the gate, it remained closed. We waited for an hour before we heard a gunshot from deeper in the forest. Just like that, everything was thrown into chaos, bullets were flying through the air. I ran through the bushes and trees and what I saw struck me with dread, we were firing at each other. I began shouting, calling for them to stop firing, and being drowned out by gunfire. Searing pain suddenly ripped through me. My shoulder had been shot. The castle guards surely would have heard this by now I thought. A moment later we were set upon by them, we were all being mowed down, like trees being cut. I was shot again, in the leg this time and at this point, I no longer had any clue from which side it came, my vision was fading and I was dizzy. I fell to the ground and everything went black.

The dampness of the dark cell had long since sunk into my bones, the days becoming impossible to count. I knew there was no chance that the rebellion had succeeded and I cursed myself. One gunshot that night from what had probably been an overeager boy had lost us any chance of winning, not that it was likely in the first place. I prayed that at least a few of my men had slipped away, but that hope was soon revealed to be in vain. The door slammed open and crashed against the already cracked stone of the wall. I startled to my feet and the guards that were dressed in red, dirtied uniforms each grabbed my arms, cuffed my hands behind my back, and led me out of my cell. The hallway walls were much like the cells, I could tell they had all been grey at one time but the dampness and mold had long since settled in, staining them green. As I walked down the hall I was surprised to see that many of the other cells had barred doors, allowing me to see through them. It was then that despair crawled its way into my gut, I was being paraded down the hallway in front of a countless number of my men. I held my head high and calmed my racing heart, even if captured I was still their leader and would act like it. The hallway seemed to stretch for miles, and soon I felt whatever energy I had left drain from my body. My legs dropped out from under me and the guards had to half carry, half drag me down the remaining length of the hall. My face contorted with grief, I had let myself, my comrades, and my country down. Anyone else could have done better than the sorry excuse for a charge I had led on the castle, and now my men would have to help me pay the price. The hallway finally ended and with a few more twists and turns I suddenly was blinded by the bright light of day. The stands were packed with people. The sand in the arena empty save for a wooden platform. The guards slowly led me towards it. I began to struggle, I couldn’t do this. I had so much more left to do, and yet my efforts proved fruitless and I was led up the steps of the platform, standing to face the balcony where the king was sat.

“Edric Bayard, you have been charged with treason against the king and have been sentenced to the gallows.” the man standing in front of me said.

I already knew that, I had known that would be what happened to me if I was captured from the moment I had begun to lead the rebellion. Still, my throat constricted in fear and I found myself frozen as the executioner, who was dressed in black, put the noose around my neck. He then stepped over by the lever that would end my life, and with a flourish of the king's hand, he pulled it. Time seemed to stand still as the floor dropped out from beneath me. Then, all at once I fell, I shut my eyes and was met with excruciating pain. It would seem I was not one of the lucky ones, my neck had not snapped from the drop, instead, I would suffocate slowly. The crowd was cheering around the arena, overjoyed with the idea of watching my death. The sky was so wondrously blue I thought, even as I imagined it cracking, just like the shattered glass from the carriage at Deadman’s Tumble, just as I thought it should have done that day. The cracks were spreading and as I was running out of air I no longer knew whether it was just my imagination or if the sky was actually cracking and would fall on me any moment, cutting my death short. Soon it wasn’t just the sky breaking, it was my vision too, black streaked across it, looking like one of those fancy store windows downtown after someone threw a rock at it. Slowly, I closed my eyes and the world stopped, and my existence ceased.

[theheavymetalmama]

Justice League Dark Review (for real this time)

So the DCEU at this point in time is a shitshow-shut up, yes it is-and is well on its’ way to becoming a franchise worse than the Bayformers movies. Still, DC shines in animation, and their great cartoons and animated movies help to serve as consolation prizes for those of us who feel shafted seeing a character who’s supposed to embody all things given hardly any speaking lines or screen time and spending the majority of what little presence he has looking mopey and dopey. When it comes to animation, DC is untouchable.

Or at least they were!

Sadly it would appear that whatever virus has infected the DCEU has now spread to their animation department. In 2013, Warner and DC completely overhauled their animation studio and produced a movie based on the Flashpoint comics that led to the creation of the New 52. Since then, the animated movies they’ve produced with a few exceptions have shared continuity and take place in the New 52 universe…a universe that’s now defunct thanks the Rebirth, but for whatever reason they’re still making movies based in that continuity. Seriously, at the rate they’re going DC will see another reboot before we see a Rebirth movie.

But I’m getting sidetracked. Kicking off the post-Flashpoint movies was Justice League War, and boy howdy did it SUCK. It was way too fast paced, Wonder Woman was an idiot, Superman was a condescending jerk, Green Lantern was a jackass, Cyborg was boring, Batman was an asshole no-it-all, and Shazam…was the only decent character, but it was nowhere near enough to make up for the rest of the movie. The only good part of the whole movie (besides Shazam) is when Batman and Superman meet and, of course, they fight. The fight itself is basically a big giant middle-finger toward the fight in The Dark Knight Returns and the whole “Batman beats everyone always BECAUSE HE’S BATMAN” thing in general.

After JL War, things didn’t get any prettier. Son of Batman was as obnoxious as the title character, Throne of Atlantis was a snooze fest, Batman vs Robin was stupid, Batman Bad Blood had a good movie in it that was strangled to death by Dick and Damien’s dick measuring contest, and Justice League vs Teen Titans was good when it actually focused on the Titans themselves but the vast majority of the movie didn’t and opted to put Batman and Damien (see a pattern here?) in the spotlight. Never mind the fact that the comic book the movie is based on had almost nothing to do with Batman and Damien Wayne didn’t even fucking exist at the time, but you know, god forbid DC make anything these days that doesn’t heavily involve Batman in some way.

That’s not to say that everything they did was bad. Assault on Arkham was good, and a better Suicide Squad movie than Suicide Squad. The other was Justice League: Gods and Monsters, an AU where Wonder Woman is from space, Batman’s a vampire because science, and Superman is the son of General Zod and his capsule lands somewhere on the US/Mexico border instead of Kansas. I won’t rule out that a big reason these were good was because they had nothing to do with the New 52 lineup, though that certainly didn’t help The Killing Joke. Yeah, the less said about that movie, the better.

And that brings us to their most recent animated entry, Justice League Dark.

Justice League Dark…is the worst movie DC has produced so far. Yes, you heard me right. Worse than Justice League War, worse than Son of Batman, and worse than Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. Yes, you read that right. I don’t know how they did it, but they somehow managed to produce a movie that’s worse than the movie where Superman is morose and utterly devoid of joy, Batman is a murderous hypocritical asshole, both characters having the same name was treated like some big god damn revelation, and where Superman dies in the most wasteful display this side of Venom being sidelined in Spider-Man 3.

So…what’s wrong with this movie? Yeah, what’s RIGHT with this movie is the shorter answer! I usually watch a movie at least twice before reviewing it, but this is such a disjointed mess that I had to watch it FOUR TIMES to make sure I didn’t miss anything, and despite being just over an hour long it feels like a fucking eternity. In any case, the plot of The Misadventures of Batman and John Constantine ft. Batman goes a little something like this…

Strange deaths and murders are occurring all over the globe. The pattern is erratic but the cases are all the same. Some people start hallucinating and seeing their fellow humans as monsters and demons and either run away or try to kill them. Wonder Woman stops a crazed driver after said driver ran down a bunch of innocents, Superman stops a drunk from killing his own wife and kids and then finds over a dozen mangled bodies in the backyard shed in which he opens the door by blasting it to splinters with his heat vision instead of just pulling it off its’ hinges or something, and Batman saves a baby that the crazed mother dropped off a building only for said mother to take the plunge herself.

Grim, but it’s not a bad start…but it’s all downhill from there.

The Justice League discuss these strange murders and deduce that it’s the work of magic…in which Batman gives a snarky response about how that’s crazy and tells the other Leaguers that they’re crazy and they need to spend more time on the streets and less time above them.

Ugh. Have I ever mentioned that this particular incarnation of Batman just sucks and sucks hard? For starters, he’s a know-it-all asshole who treats everyone like they’re idiots, especially his teammates. On top of that, he’s a god damned hypocrite. Here’s a guy who’s been possessed and seen the supernatural with his own eyes, and here he is talking down to his own teammates and dismissing the whole thing as childish nonsense. Seriously, Severus Snape was less of a patronizing dickhead than this version of Batman. Oh, and what does he do afterwards? He visits Zatana, a magic user, to help him look into the murders, but only after he finds some magic graffiti left by the ghost, Deadman. Oh yeah, SUCH a ridiculous notion, right?

Anyway, after meeting up with Zatana and Deadman, the three travel to meet up with John Constantine at the House of Mysteries. Constantine, meanwhile, is playing poker with Jason Blood and three Doom rejects and that goes about as well as you would expect. And speaking of which, John Constantine plays an integral role in this movie….and as the Brits would say, he’s a tory little cunt. This fucking guy could very well be the most unlikabe and insufferably smug asshat in DC’s animated lineup to date. A pretty dubious title at that, considering he exists in the same universe as Batdick, Superjerk, and the biggest bitchiest boneheaded brat this side of Veruca Salt that is Damien Wayne. Like Batman, Constantine treats everyone around him like idiots and goes on and on about how the Justice League won’t be any help in this endeavor because…….magic (more on that later,) and all the while berates and belittles anyone who dares suggest that he should maybe treat his teammates like human fucking beings.

Moving on, after a brief dick-measuring contest the four then set off to meet with someone who might have an idea of what’s going on. That someone is Richie, an old friend of John and Zatana who happens to be dying of some weird magic cancer. They have a bit of a scuffle and get some magic doohickey they need, and we find out the reason Richie has said magic cancer was because of something Constantine did…in which Constantine doesn’t even attempt to make things right between them. Now that’s shady on its’ own, but later it gets even worse, rendering Constantine not just unlikable but irredeemable. So they get the magic thing they needed and Richie shows them the door, in which the four of them head to the hospital so Constantine and Zatana can mind-dip into one of the killers from before. And while Z and C have their little lover’s quarrel (because Odin fucking forbid we don’t have some stupid romantic subplot) Batman and Deadman stand guard and then……this happens.

…no, seriously. Yeah, the monster looks different and doesn’t say anything, but it’s still the fucking shit demon from Dogma. It even comes out of the toilet and wreaks havoc on the hospital. And unlike in Dogma where it’s treated as a joke, it’s played totally straight faced and serious as if Jason Voorhees on Injustice Steroids had showed up. This just….baffles me. I mean, seriously? THAT was the best the writers could come up with? I guess it would make sense if they were in a dingy subway station or a sewage treatment facility or something like that…but they were in a hospital! Hospitals have been a staple in horror tropes for over a century! Of all the fucking things that could have attacked them; medical poltergeists, possessed doctors, demon nurses, hostile spirits who died there, the fucking cadavers in the meat locker coming to life, all SORTS of cool things that would make an awesome Batman fight………and they go with a monster comprised of human crap. There’s a metaphor somewhere in there for DC’s movies as of late, but I’m too grossed out to find it.

So they defeat the shit demon and head back to Richie’s place to find the place sacked and Jason Blood standing over his unconscious form. They have a scuffle, they sort things out, and Richie reveals that it was Felix Faust that attacked him. Who the hell is Felix Faust? I don’t know and this movie doesn’t really bother to explain. He’s a bad guy and they need to find him, so they go and find Swamp Thing because he knows where Faust is and he takes them there. Also, why does Constantine seek Swamp Thing’s help? Don’t get me wrong, Swamp Thing’s awesome, but he was created in a lab accident. He has about as much to do with magic as James Bond. But whatever, he takes them to Faust’s hideout and Jason Blood summons Etrigan to kick the fight off. Zatana readies a spell but finds herself without a voice, in which Faust reveals that he cast a spell on his home that allows no woman to speak while inside.

…yeah. No woman can speak in his home. Not just Zatana, but all women. Why? Did he get stood up for a date and is still hung up about it? And speaking of weird hang ups about women, Black Orchid is in this movie. She serves no purpose other than to be naked because reasons, fight and fail miserably against the big bad’s puppet, burns herself alive because of some magic loophole bullshit, and makes goo-goo eyes at Deadman. See, skimpy and impractical costumes don’t help, but shit like this is why people who write and read comic books are often dismissed as sexist anti-social weirdos. But that’s another topic, back to this shitty movie! Long story short, they find out that Faust had nothing to do with the attacks and that the real bad guy is an ancient sorcerer called….ugh….Destiny, who struck a pact with Richie and that it was him pulling the strings all along.

And that brings us to the biggest reason why Constantine can go piss up a rope. See, Richie struck a deal with Destiny in order to gain immortality. Why? Because he’s dying. He’s dying because he has magic cancer, he has magic cancer because of Constantine, he hates Constantine because when he got magic cancer Constantine did…nothing. Didn’t try to cure him, didn’t try to make amends, didn’t even say he was sorry. Basically what I’m saying is that this whole fucking debacle is because Constantine was a dick to his friend. Why are we rooting for this guy again? He’s an asshole! I don’t want to see him save the day, I want to see Etrigan cave his fucking head in!

So Destiny, of course, tricked Richie so he could return to the world and destroy it because…bad guy. Batman calls the Justice League and we get to where the movie just completely falls apart. Look, I could spend all day listing and analyzing this movie’s many plotholes, but this is the one that takes the narrative and breaks it over its’ knee. Constantine goes on and on about how the capes are useless against dark magic…but for whatever reason Batman and Swamp Thing are completely immune to the thing that makes everyone see demons and go completely blood hungry. Why? We don’t know! They never explain it! Did that spell Constantine cast that let Batman see and hear Deadman make him immune to the murder spell? If so then why doesn’t Constantine cast it on the rest of the Leaguers?

Oh, it gets worse. Green Lantern, the John Stewart version, shows up with the rest of the League and almost immediately goes nuts and attacks Batman. Of course, Batman ninjas the ring off Lantern and then subdues him while powerless. How does he do that? Does he tie him up? Knock him out? Tranquilize him? No, he fucking stun guns him. Yeah. The only semi-prominent black guy in the whole damn movie, and he gets taken out via stun gun. DC, you do know there’s a bit of an ongoing problem with excessive police force against minorities, right? I doubt this was your intention, but you must at least have an inkling of an idea that it looks somewhat shady when you have Batman taze the only black guy in the movie. Did anybody proof-read this fucking thing before giving it the green light!?

So the magic guys plus Batman and Swamp Thing fight Destiny, and…Swamp Thing dies. Yeah, he’s on the damn cover yet barely in the movie and goes out like a complete bitch. Jason Blood and Etrigan get separated, and then Destiny is promptly killed via magical sucker punch just before Jason croaks as well, and then the movie ends with Constantine and Zatana having a beer and some implied ghost sex between Deadman and a revived Black Orchid. Oh, and Richie? He gets dragged to Hell and, once again, Constantine does fuck all to help the guy despite the whole shitstorm being his fault and fuck this movie right in its’ ass!

So, yeah. Can you see why this movie sucks?

To be fair, there is a good movie in Justice League Dark waiting to break out, but it’s bogged down by bad writing, obnoxious characters, and needless Bat-fan service. Seriously, Batman has no reason whatsoever to be in this movie other than he’s DC’s biggest seller at the moment and his presence would mean more copies sold. All movies have problems, but those can be overlooked and forgiven if the movie itself is good…which Justice League Dark isn’t. How could it be made good? For starters, make Constantine less of an unlikable assclown. Not that I expect him to crack jokes and grin all the time, but treating his team mates like actual human fucking beings would be a good place to start. Second, proof-read the fucking thing. Third, don’t put Batman on the forefront. Seriously, every other movie in the DCAU as of late focused or heavily involved him in some form since Flashpoint and his overexposure is pretty damn annoying.

Now I know what you’re thinking. The members of Justice League Dark are hardly big names and they need a draw to sell copies. I get that. So who would I put in the team?

For many reasons, but here are some big ones. For starters, there have been ten, count ‘em, TEN animated movies from DC lately, and the only one where Superman had anything resembling a lead role was in Gods and Monsters…the alternate universe with no connection to the ongoing New 52 movies that for some ungodly reason DC is still making. In any case, his character has barely been defined in this particular continuity. I speak no hyperbole when I say that the most we’ve got of his character in these movies is that he has the hots for Wonder Woman and he’s pretty much the only one who doesn’t want to rip Damien Wayne’s head off. That’s it. Not only would this give him a chance to shine, but also see him juxtaposed to world-weary cynics such as Jason Blood and John Constantine.

Two, magic is one of the few things that can genuinely harm Superman, so this would be a case where he can’t just speed-blitz or punch his way out of the situation. Also, it would be way more interesting seeing Superman in the fight against Felix Faust and Destiny than it was to see Batman hide behind stuff, run from monsters, and occasionally throw a batarang or shoot his grappling hook at shit. Seriously, that’s about the extent of Batman’s action scenes in this thing.

And third…let’s not beat around the bush. DC can’t make movies based on the now defunct New 52 universe forever. Sooner or later they’ll make a movie based on Convergence, the event that leads into ‘DC Rebirth.’ Spoilers; it doesn’t end well for New 52 Supes, as he loses his power, dies in a fight, and is immediately replaced with the Pre-52 Superman who, along with Pre-52 Lois Lane, survived the Flashpoint event…somehow…and was living among the New 52 world in secret with their son, Jon. The New 52 Superman was polarizing to say the least, but he had his fans so his death wasn’t entirely pointless. His animated counterpart? We’ve seen more of fucking Alfred than we’ve seen of Superman. That’s not a good thing. I mean, we all remember what happened last time DC killed off Superman before audiences had a chance to care about him, right?

Maybe we’ll get that movie somewhere down the line, but it sure as shit isn’t this one. Fuck this movie and everyone who made it, don’t waste your money.

[anthonyreadsthecards]

Bro you see JLD yet?

Really hope you mean Justice League Dark otherwise this whole answer is gonna be lengthy for no reason. Yes I have and I have opinions under the cut.

I overall liked it. I give it a solid B-. It wasn’t amazing by any standard but I really enjoyed huge portions of it. My biggest complaints were the same with most of the recent DC Animated movies. I hate how rushed they feel. Like we spend a huge portion of the movie on backstory for the characters but not so much on plot or the antagonist so when he get to the final fight with said antagonist it feels slightly rushed and anticlimactic. I thought for a minute we were going to get a perfectly paced movie. I mean we had a bit of mystery going on trying to figure out who was causing the nightmare visions so that was fun but then we get to the Big Bad and it’s all, again rushed. I will say though I was satisfied with the ending. Like it seems like there could be more for these characters and I really hope there is.

Speaking of characters I was so incredibly happy that Matt Ryan got to reprise his role as John Constantine. He was so utterly perfect and I feel like he deserves a lot since his show, which was great and very faithful to the comics, got cancelled. I hope he continues to voice for the DCAU. I thought Constantine’s and Zatanna’s relationship was very believable. Their chemistry was good and I the end scene with them was cute. My only complaint about John was I thought he was supposed to be openly bisexual in this film...or is that supposed to be in the live action one? I mean I didn’t see anything that could show that he was. At first I thought that maybe Richie was an ex but that didn’t really get explained so....

Zatanna was pretty good the only thing I couldn’t believe is that John taught her control over her magic....like...no? Zatanna always seemed pretty skilled well before so why does he need to teach her “control”? I don’t know that rubbed me the wrong way. I could understand maybe emotional control since John deals with a lot of dark things that Zee just doesn’t. You know with Hell and the like and having to keep yourself emotionally distance or else you’ll be in for a bad time. But yeah that whole scene where she collapses after her fight with Faust and tells John “this is why I can’t do what you do” made little sense to me. Other than that I thought she was pretty spot on. I like how Swamp Thing liked her for keeping a garden. 

Boston was pretty adorable. Like I’ve always liked stories where he gets to join in. I don’t really have any complaints about him. I love that they movie didn’t take the easy way out and make Deadman’s voice come through his possessed bodies. I hate when people do that. I like that the possessed people got to keep their own voices but they spoke with Boston’s accent. Nice touch, please keep doing that.

Orchid didn’t do hardly anything. I don’t know why we had her in this movie. I mean we could have kept the demon butler from the comics and had the exact same effect. She was just...there...not really contributing to the film one way or another. I can say a little of the same for Swamp Thing except he actually did help with the fight against Doctor Destiny....or just Destiny in this movie’s case. Like he only shows up twice and I really, really wish there had been more. Also that scene where he sheds that tear...I may have teared up too. That was brutal man.

Jason and Etrigan were ok. I feel like Jason is a bit more paranoid than he needs to be though. Like Etrigan helped out John and then gave back control to Jason without a second thought. I mean I thought John was gonna have to the same mind control spell again or something but Etrigan was like ok done now, bye. I can understand that Jason doesn’t like Etrigan in control because he’s you know...a demon but I don’t know he never goes rogue, not even once. Maybe he he showed less regard for human life, like if that had been a bit more of a focus for his character then I could understand Jason’s fear but as it stands I think the whole “he could go on a killing spree” is unwarranted. Also a damn shame that Jason had to go out like that. I wanted to see more of him. Like as a occult specialist in later films but we have Constantine so I guess the position is taken.

At first I didn’t like Batman in this movie. I mean I understand we needed an Every-Man so the magic users could explain the plot to the audience but Batman? He’s already friends with Zatanna so he should be a bit more openminded to magic and yet...but that being said I liked his cold and dry humor. I feel like he did a decent job and he delivered. Still would be nice to see other League members get some focus instead of him...just saying. He already has several films.

Doctor Destiny was kind of meh villain. I mean I thought we were going to deal with Mordred or something but nope just Doctor Destiny who’s powers are dream manipulation and nightmare hallucinations...not really magic per se. And he’s defeated pretty easily. Felix Faust put up way more of a fight than Destiny did, just saying. I don’t know he was kinda lame. Like so much is put on him to make it seem like he could cause the end of the world but again...meh. Trigon was a bigger threat and Justice League vs Teen Titans wasn’t that good of a movie. JLD was better in every way but the villain. Felix should have been the real antagonist and he could have been manipulated Etrigan or something to that effect. That way Jason’s fears could have been validated and we could have rounded him out a bit more. But that’s just me.

Overall I think Justice League Dark is worth the watch. I had a lot of fun watching it. It has humor, magic, a little mystery and suspense. The only thing that could have made this movie great is Madame Xanadu...you know...the person who actually founds the team...albeit through manipulation but still. She needed to be there...could have gotten rid of Orchid and had a scene with Madame X, just saying. Not only that but she and Etrigan have history in the New 52. She could have given us the whole backstory of Jason and Etrigan. 

But seriously go watch it. Most of my complaints are just nitpicking because that’s what I do. I’m really looking forward to what could come out next.

[stictlyfriction]

It's weird

I'll admit. It's been a while since I wrote of you. I don't think I will after this. I wonder how many nights I'd spent awake around this time. Alone again.

The smell of some other vapid disappointment drifting up from a memory, maybe two.

You know I pulled myself apart, time and time again to find you. Meticulously, religiously, diving farther into the darker, the damper parts of me; dissassembling every cog every spindle of wiry substance to try and discern exactly which bit of machinery failed. And so phenomenally time and time again that caused departure after mind numbing departure.

Do you know what it feels like to lose a limb?

For a moment to be separated from a sense.

The fear

It's stifling.

Like being shackled to the bottom of a filling pool.

Once when I was twelve I went blind. I've told the story a million times, but it's never come in handy till now. Waking in a hospital bed the sounds magnified to terrifying grotesques of clamor and shout. Even still, someones hand was always a short distance to ease the terror. Even in the darkness, warmth was ever present. I lost my eyes but I could still see.

And soon I recovered.

One.

You stepped away and the headaches began to take me, fiercely and suddenly with the brute strength of a Goliath. Stung me high in the heart and white crashed across healed vision.

Two.

I pushed and you gave. Easily and this too was a concession of sorts a defeat that blighted the greener parts of a shared plot of garden. I drank to forget, I drank to arrive because no matter the time or distance I could not find my way, couldn't find the path in the dim stillness of sobriety. You wouldn't have let me either. Many days I awoke with a tenderness in my teeth, swollen lips and the cold soak of regret. I pressed angry fingers into eyes, stars bloomed until they were all I could see.

Three.

Time apart was judicious, it was sweet and forgiving for shared misery and mistake. Some habits are not so easy to break. I watched, I waited. Patience is not in the nature of the drowning, but it isn't as if I was good at swimming to begin with. You backpedaled and I watched in rapt fascination as you knowingly... Purposefully switched tracks. You could see the signage, you were very aware of the danger, but you did it anyway. I smiled for the first time in a long time. I ignored the thin film that began to leak over my eyes, everything was a sepia colored fantasy. Nevermind the blockade, nevermind the danger. I put on sunglasses to hide the sheen.

Four

I was curious at first. Just what the hell were you getting at? Why the sudden reawakened interest. Had you cut off everyone when you cut off me? What was this really about? I stuck around to find the answer. Or so I told myself. The film began to thicken. A full throbbing began in the temples. I took ibuprofen and ignored it. Faintly I could hear the conductors horn screeching, above the encapsulated time and hours alone that stretched on in agonizing repetition. What was happening. I was having so much fun...wasn't I? People began to back away from me. I didn't notice or maybe I didn't care.

Five

Destabilization happens sometimes... It just does. To buildings, to ecosystems, to governments and all from the same thing. Stress. When left unmanaged or managed poorly for too long it can cause some pretty gruesome things. I drank until I almost died. Multiple times. I slit myself open like an envelope with untaxed untraceable cash. I continued to lie about it, pass it off as a joke I laughed about it in public. I could sense the ripple of tension that began to fester on the surface of my skin. I chain smoked and you quit. Most days I didn't sleep. Seeing was staring down a tunnel a dimly lit one at that. You, where were you again? Ah that's right, probably fucking someone else. Who? I don't know, just some nameless, faceless stranger. Why was I so angry all the time? I drank until it all went black.

Six

It helped to do things that were good for me. I went to the beach a lot. I spent a lot of time outside. We did fun things that we'd never done before. Things that made us seem like a unit, like... I don't know. I don't want to say. It scared me, but I liked it. It made me feel good. My insecurities blossomed while I was staring into Kirkland brand shampoo, what looked like an entire gallon of it. I realized with a start, with a crushing dial up screeching of a start that I could hear the wheels screeching just short of us. That the collision would occur far before it was supposed to. I'd stepped onto the fucking track. I made eye contact with you as you rounded the corner of the aisle and showed me some product you were excited to find in this large a bulk. I couldn't see it, I couldn't see anything.

Seven

God is unjust. Not because God means to be. But because they’re, it... God is god. Humans’ rules don't apply, not on morality or terms of fairness. Not even in continuity. I was not surprised when the train wrecked. I'd been watching it before after all, only from afar. Now I was standing on the tracks watching it slide dizzily towards me, tipped on its side but still going. Persistent. I'll give it that. The alcohol made me stay I say to myself at night when the lights are out. The alcohol opened my mouth and let it out. The alcohol. The alcohol was not to blame. I couldn't see much else but you and it was okay because you had been tugging me along faithfully. You hadn't given me any reason to believe you'd let go. So I told you. I told you that I....

You kissed me, squeezed my hands in yours and waxed poetic about the future. About what we could be... My heart sank, and I didn't know why. I was scared. You were scaring me. And I didn't know why. We parted at the doorway. You kissed me and told me to go up, but I wanted you to stay.

You didn't. You let go of my hand.

I smiled and went up, I couldn't see the look on your face that night. Even if I could, I probably wouldn't remember it right

Eight

Nothing ever goes the way you want it to. The alcohol wasn't to blame for my mouth, but it did become the catalyst of another departure. Avoidance, misplaced blame a night in which I attempted to disconnect- to distance myself from my irrational anxiety and fear. Because you wouldn't see me. After 134 days together, you couldn't spare me a fucking minute... Anger swelled and soaked me, tequila and a long car ride followed my misery and I to a jail cell at two in the morning. The next day I apologized for going silent in response to a text. I was met with accusation, with projection and denial. Denial of integrity, of capability and saddled with the wreckage of a Train wreck that I stepped into yes, but you directed. I sat on a park bench and frantically typed out hurried responses, but you ended them all with a flat.

I'm just going to take a couple days.

Strangers asked me if I was okay the entire walk home, I wandered unaware of my surroundings. I wouldn't have been able to see through the tears in my eyes, but it didn't matter because I was blind.

I still don't know how I should've handled that situation. I don't think I ever will.

Nine

I was sightless and no matter how much I wanted to reach for a guiding hand, from friends, family, lovers... I couldn't. Fear was a choke chain clamped firmly around my neck. I stumbled around like that for a couple days.

Two months.

I made myself scarce. I made myself small. I forgot. I begged myself to forget. My eyes wouldn't heal. My body wouldn't heal. I had to see you when I didn't want to. I had to hear you when I didn't want to. I changed my schedule. I lost sleep. I didn't want. I didn't. I

I

I

I

I

I was in hell.

Ten

Someone wrapped their hands around mine. Ah a dead girl, wow what are you doing here. You want me to what? I hate this place though. I don't want to be here anymore. What? Why though? No one is going to notice if I just di- I had been having the same dream of hanging myself for about two weeks, when I had this one. One familiar hand stilling mine, even in a dream. It helped. A love from beyond the grave, but still substantial even if it was probably just a subconscious defense mechanism. I woke on the medium in the street in front of my building, in my underwear and bare feet, my keys clipped to my shirt. I had begun sleep walking again. I trudged upstairs and returned to bed. Everything was grey. Everything was cold. But atleast I was seeing it now. It rained all day, but for the first time in a while I didn't cry at all.

Eleven

I was becoming accustomed to interaction again. I chanced a night out. I had fun. You had fun. A drunken text message that stretched into an exchange of long overdue retraction and apology. You are awkward. More than you'd like to believe. You don't apologize. Never when it matters. You're stubborn. I know that. I accepted it. Accepted you back. With open arms. The grey loomed, the headache throbbed feebily. I cracked open the drug cabinet with a smile. Where had I stashed that bottle of ibuprofen again?

Twelve

The damage was done. You cannot unsee what is seen. No matter how comfortable being blind is, once you've experienced sight, full and unbridled in visceral depiction you cannot go back. Not wholly anyway. You have scruples. Ones that prevent you from staying even if you did go back. I tried to mend the fissures. I broke myself open to try and pinpoint the broken gear or fixture that had just jammed so fiercely it had caused this all. I pulled apart memories, drank away words and wishes and kisses and touches and all these little bastards of burden that stacked like eviction notices outside of a deadmans rental... But I couldn't forget. I wanted so badly for this to not be the end.

So I wanted out.

Bad enough to fork over my self control. To all the other demons that I kept locked away in my head. It's a dorm house really it is. The cerebral halfway house of legions. All to just go blind, all so I could just stop being maimed so relentlessly by truth climbing out of her fucking well waving my shame around like yesterday's CNN headline.

DSYPNEA? IS IT LOVE OR JUST BLATANT DELUSION?

I tried to kill myself three times that winter. First I tried to hang myself. I was too short so I stepped down and had a nice laugh about the irony. Second I stood on a bridge in my city in the pouring rain, it runs over the river so I stepped over the ledge and stared into the perilous swell of rapids, I let one hand unwrap itself from the railing. Here's the thing, my sleeve caught. Painfully as I began to descend. A rope like tightener cinched around the wrist of the hand that I had released so I hung there in a painful limbo. I hauled my weight back over the ledge, laughing all the while. Third I swallowed an entire bottle of promethazine while drunk enough to probably just die from that. I woke up in my own vomit, drained. Spent. I called out of work. I drove home.

I didn't speak for two days. That last time I had been very serious. I had written letters, to you and everyone I knew. I had been writing them for weeks. I failed.

Something inside of me swelled with that fact.

I guess I have to live.

Thirteen

I'm sure I still love you. Somewhere inside of me, but I lost my job and I'm looking for a new one and I want to live and I want to see and I want to love someone who will also love me. What I feel for you now is affection tried and true and for you that association will remain unshakeable. But I'm not in love with you anymore. I'm no longer rupturing from hurt that got imbedded in my skin years ago and well that's at least a start. You know I spent so much time pulling myself apart in order to find you, to find the piece of me that just didn't fit with you that instead in the process I brought so much more of me to light than I ever actually anticipated I had. Loving you was a form of self Discovery and for that I am grateful. And I am not bitter nor am I sad anymore over the fact that we could never work, it is as plain as the divide of day and night to me now, sometimes blurred at their respective edges but unmistakeable at full capacity.

I kind of forgot why I started writing this to be honest. What was the point again? Oh.

Oh yeah, thank you for teaching me what it means to be blind, to be without sight, or warmth. Thank you for teaching me of the pain of departure and the solid supple bloom of pleasure and peace of survival. Thank you for letting me fall in love with you though I know you never felt the same or anything remotely close. I'm sorry if at times I was indiscernible, unreadable and subsequently terrifying, we all have our reasons for the pain we pent up. Thank you for being a friend, a lover, a 3am laugh or 3pm laugh.

Thank you.

Goodbye my beloved.