#why does everyone feel the need to make everything solidly good or bad

[strawberrytalia]

the fandom’s twisted takes on jack drake and tim kind of make me sad because i feel like its canon state is the most realistic, relatable, and ‘heartwrenching in its own way’ form of a parent-child relationship. jack loves tim, but fails to communicate that properly. he doesn’t understand tim. the lack of dialogue between two people who love each other, but physically can’t express it, especially from the parental side, is a pain that is so valid and one that i’m sure many people can understand.

making jack abusive also takes away so much of tim’s canon grief and devastation. tim loved his father! he gave up robin for him! in their very last moments, he was crying and telling his father how much he loved him and to just hold on a little longer. and then the utter tragedy of arriving just seconds late to the sight of his father’s corpse.

and the added context that jack drake wasn’t even murdered intentionally, it was a freak accident part of a larger scheme that didn’t even involve tim at all. can you imagine tim’s anger?? the bitterness???

anyways… i think the story of losing one’s parent and spending forever thinking about all the unsaid words, regretting what you did say, being angry at the circumstances, wishing for anything to bring them back, holds so much weight on its own and it really doesn’t need unnecessary non-canon details of jack being abusive or cruel when that wasn’t the case. you don’t need to vilify everyone. i know he was FAR from perfect but he did love tim, and tim loved him back and he will likely grieve for him forever.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

i am not allowed to watch the newest ep before posting this

ghouls forgive me for over analyzing- but i LOVED how Frankie's place on the leader board doesn't change! The i m p l i c a t i o n s

so the point of the growing ghoulia ep is both Ghoulia and Draculaura are feeling a lot of pressure to do really well at their school stuff:

Ghoulia because zombies in general have a hard time squeezing all the extra stuff that would earn points, and she wants to be first to top the chart. Draculaura, fresh from the ep where her dad was worried her witchcraft would make her life harder, wants to 100% prove she can be a witch AND do well in her other stuff.

(ohhh the DElicious irony of that urge pushing her to accidentally do the thing she NEVER wanted to do- hurt monsters with her magic- i AdORE every time she draws the line of I Will Not Hurt People With This. i LOVE the look at how she realizes Ghoulia shouldn't have to compete against MAGIC along with everything else- AND AND AND how they both decide to be little less frantic about leader boards. we don't even see what the final redone results are! Because that's the point- they aren't THAT important! without the time spell there's a good chance ghoulia stayed in 1st this time, but the episode doesn't care, and the meta of that is vrvrvrvvrrbrrbrbrbrbr)

where was i. Oh yeah, Frankie!

they are second to last before the new points are tallied up- just above Ghoulia- and they're STILL second to last after the new calculation is done, this time just ahead of Heath!

First tally: 1 Drac, 2 Spec, 3 Heth, 4 Lag, 5 Claw, 6 Man, 7 Frank, 8 Ghoul

Second Tally, before drac jumped ahead suddenly: 1 Ghoul, 2 Man, 3 Claw

Second tally after drac did her thing: 1 Drac, 2 Ghoul, 3 Man, - - - 7 Frank, 8 Heth

(forgive, i cannot take scream caps right now)

WHY IS THAT EXCITING??? BECAUSE>>>>>> everyone else that we see DID move on the board. but not THEM!!!

and the only extra curricular thing we see them part of in the ep? the only thing they do that could get them points? It's something they already do and like.

It's a queer club- Frankie, the only openly non-binary monster we've seen, who introduced themselves with their preferred pronouns- there is no way they're doing a queer club for points. they're there because they want to be, it's fun, it's something they enjoy-

AND THAT S THE THING

so MANY of the kids at monster high are trying to live up to something! or prove something!

Cleo needing to earn a sliver of the respect her big sister gets

Duce trying not to let down the new Gorgon tradition of school excellence

Draculaura desperately wanting to make her dad proud AND be a witch AND earn enough positive interaction so's not to start decaying

Toralei and HER mom who is..... yeah....

heck even Spectra mentions bad grades could get privileges revoked by her family

Clawdeen doesn't have pressure from her dad (or mom, obviously) but she does struggle with wanting to fit in and belong in the monster culture she's still really new to- she's solidly in the middle range for spirit points, showing how active she is in school unlife- and several of her eps are about learning NOT to focus too much on fitting in or going with the monster flow. Instincts. The push to ignore them sometimes for her new home and peers is sTRONG.

but Frankie?

Frankie's got brilliant brain bits. They're smart, perceptive, sometimes VERY intuitive without noticing it-

yeah they have a permanent case of the stumbly clumsies and their brain sparks make them zone out sometimes- and they've literally only been alive for a few months so there's a LOT of normal everyday stuff they don't know about, and...

...... that rarely seems to bother them?

They're made from famous and talented monsters, they know it and are HAPPY to show off all their cool brain bits

and so far they haven't ever worried about living up to those monsters' reputations or legacies. their parents made a teen stuffed FULL with smarts, but getting amazing grades isn't something Frankie frets about?

they are SECOND TO LAST on the LEADER BOARD and they STAY THERE

the implication, the unspoken thing about all that is-

Frankie was made to have fun.

They're here at monster high, also to have Fun. To experience stuff. Make friends. Learn things, sure- but learn things they like, at their own pace

this could change if we ever see their parents but- but for NOW, the way things have been shown-

Frankie at least doesn't seem to be feeling any pressure to be anything more than what they already are. And that's really. Very. Wonderful to see

[spaceorphan18]

Umbrella Academy Thoughts

So. I did end up finishing Season 4 last night.

I need to preface this with -- I actually really do love this show. The first season of it is still one of my favorite TV stories. I love the characters. I love the sibling dynamics. I love superhero element - where the powers feel fresh or interesting spins on old things. Five and Klaus are just everything.

I didn't love love Seasons 2 or 3, but they were solidly good.

But they could have left things be after Season 3. They could have left well enough alone. Because Season 4, man. What???

Okay, onto spoilery things.

I will say, I really love the concepts and ideas the season had. The strange alien goo stuff wiping everything out while enhancing powers? Sure, fine. The train station that went to different time lines -- inspired, loved that. Even the idea behind the ending -- I could get behind if done correctly.

They had six episodes to tell a really compelling story and just... didn't. Most of it was a waste of time, a bunch of it didn't make sense, and some of it was just plain stupid, and it really breaks my heart that a show that was so, so, so brilliant when it started descended into this mess.

One thing I did like was Nick Offerman and Megan Mullally as the two cult leaders. They were fantastically cast, and did a great job even when the scripts descended into nonsense. I wish they had a stronger ending, but great choice in the casting department.

I have to wonder - the first episode is pretty solid, and I actually like the idea of their lives kind of sucking in their happily ever after era, which thematically makes sense when they wrap around to being erased. Another great idea. But I wonder -- did they get the note that it'd be six episodes after they started writing? But there's a definite shift after the first couple episodes that started to feel like both they were trying to cram in too much to the episodes and that there wasn't enough plot to really make an interesting story. The pacing was incredibly weird.

So... let's talk about the rest of the characters, shall we?

Luther -- I honestly loved his characterization in this season. He was great! He also had really nothing to do, and the whole thing at the CIA's office was a waste of time. Why did we need that sequence, especially when it took up an entire episode?

Diego -- I feel like they made him a little too much of a loser? I also kind of missed his banter with the other siblings. He just felt like a shell, which was intentional, but never got any redemption? Which -- like, if you're going to erase the characters, and this goes for everyone, give them some kind of satisfying growth or ending before they're gone.

Allison -- I'm amused that everyone just kinda let it go (honestly, I don't even remember what she did do, I only watched Season 3 once, but I remember it was bad) but I am glad she got to not be the bad guy this season. Finally. She had some nice moments. Again, didn't really do much ultimately.

Klaus -- my god, the biggest waste of time during the whole season. I love where they started him. But why did he get the stupid subplot of him being a medium? Why did we go there? It's like they needed him out of the way, and buried in a box. You can see the -- how do we get there of it all. But none of it was needed. And it's clear they had no actual idea of how to get him into the main plot. Because he does nothing. And it just... breaks my heart because I love his character so much.

Five -- *sigh* Five is my /favorite/ character, and just... what?? The biggest BIGGEST wasted opportunity was not having more shenanigans related to the train station. Could you imagine if he brought everyone and they all had to timeline jump? It would have been so cool! The concept was brilliant and amazing and just... what?? I did love the diner of Fives. That was inspired and a taste of what i really wanted. But instead they waste all that opportunity on a love triangle. And I get that maybe they were going for Five having character growth of thinking about more than himself? Kind of? But then they missed idea of their whole character who spent three seasons trying to save EVERYONE and not himself, I just... I can't with it. I can't.

Ben -- I'm fine with the Ben stuff, mostly. He was the main plot, it worked until the end when it dissolved into stupidity and shit monsters.

Victor -- At least he got to be part of the main plot in a meaningful way. I did like he and Hargreeves teaming up. It was one aspect that did work for me. I've always felt they never gave Elliot Page enough to do, when he's one of the stronger actors, but at least he didn't get the worst things to do.

Lila -- Oh my god. back to the love triangle stuff. I don't mind her, or the fact that she and Diego had a shitty life. It's fine. But the love triangle was so uninspired. So felt like I've seen this kind of thing a hundred times before. It was so terrible that they needed to waste their time on it. Why? What did any of these characters do to deserve it? It's like, the show, every time it diverged from interesting sci-fi concepts and attempted human drama just kind of failed. And it's sad.

Jennifer -- I... still have so many questions. How did the anti-marigold stuff get into her in the first place? Why was she in a squid? Just... what??

Regi and his Wife -- They've always been so vague about them. I wish they had explained just a little bit more. Just have a little more context and I think it would have gone a long way. The characters just didn't ask enough questions of them, and the story felt thin and unrealized as a result.

Okay... The ending...

When you get to the point in your story where you're CGI'ing a giant shit monster, don't you think it's time you're probably done, done? Like if you are doing this creatively? You've run out of ideas and you're just scrapping the bottom of the barrel. It's just... kind of sad. Everything about it is sad.

As for being erased, I don't actually hate the concept, but man do I hate the execution.

There was a way that could have been incredibly narratively satisfying. You erase them, and then go back to the beginning, and the kids get to live and grow up on their own. Then for the last sequence (loved that they brought I think I'm alone now) you have seven strangers pass each other in the park not knowing each other. And that would have been fantastic, you know? A way for the characters to live on and still uphold the ending.

But what we got? It just felt... so muddled? Like -- how is Claire's kid alive when she never existed? Same with Diego and Lila's kids? I don't understand it!! And the cameos were cute -- but why not bring back everyone? I just don't think it makes a whole lot of sense the way it plays out.

The entire season needed a rewrite, better editing, stronger character focus, and it would have been brilliant. Because the ideas are there. The concepts of this season are great. But maybe they ran out of time? Maybe Netflix switched things on them last second? Or maybe the powers that be aren't that great at their jobs?

Idk, idk. I don't blame the actors (or the crew) they did what they could to salvage the messy, messy script choices.

But I think what makes me the saddest is that it's such a botched ending, this show, that really was so good in the beginning, will end up being forgotten by time because of its ending. In ten years, people will probably forget this show ever existed because we've all moved on not wanting to go back to it.

What a disappointment.

[jade-eclipse-lithium]

Hey, what’re you looking for?

My will to live.

Whoops.

Whoops? Whoops?? This is not a “Whoops” situation. We are far past whoops. Whoops is a distant speck in the rear view mirror. We are solidly in “GOODNESS GRACIOUS” and i expect you to act like it!

You borrowed my braincell.

I rented it!

Don’t play tricks with me. You know how you can be.

It’s at Deez nuts.

Where’s Deez nuts?

IN YO FACE.

You can never take anything seriously can you.

Of all the blasted, suffering, miserable things.

Taking out someone’s comm.

Let me deactivate my own brain for a moment or I’ll kill you.

Let you what-

Don’t question me.

My child gets cranky when they doesn’t get their nap.

Shoot me, you shoot your pal.

They shot you anyway.

What happened to honour among thieves?!

We sold it to the highest bidder.

You blind or short-sighted!? He’s three feet away from you! I’M GONNA HAUNT YOU IF WE BOTH DIE.

That’s not how it- you’re not making any sense!

STFU YOU’RE NOT MAKING SENSE.

Uh oh.

Is that a good uh-oh, or a bad uh-oh?

Is there ever a good uh-oh? Do you even know what’s an uh-oh?

Darkness without light is an abyss.

Light without darkness is blinding.

You cannot have a coin with one side.

They’re saying why Oreo tastes better as a whole instead of just the frosting.

One of my rules, everyone I help have to help everyone else.

Who taught you that?

Someone who helped me.

What did you do?

NOBODY DIED!!!

WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

Don’t make me come up there and be a parent!

FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING!!!

Is it three o’clock already?

It’s not, why do you ask?

I heard your bourbon glass.

Mind your own business!

I have a bad feeling about this...

What do you mean? That little voice in your head tells that you will into trouble?

Yeah kinda.

Wow that does not happen a lot. Do i even know you?

Haha.

How many men do it take to deliver a message.

One.

Kill ‘em!

It’s always about you, isn’t it? No one wants to hear about your latest midlife crisis.

Trying…To tell him…that people can change…

Come now, Prime. Show is always better than tell.

This is so awkward and embarrassing i can’t watch.

This is so awkward and embarrassing i NEED to watch.

[woodohwanedandproud]

@forgive-and-take I think their being good for one another is textually explicit - they heal each other's major flaws. Dongsik cares about everyone at his own expense and has no sense of self-preservation because he thinks he's damaged goods. Juwon doesn't get close to anyone because it opens him up to being hurt. Juwon learns how to care and tells Dongsik, "If you insist on ruining yourself, I'm going to go down first to protect you," and Dongsik thinks, "Well shit, so that's what it feels like." His arrest isn't all sacrifice - it's also a way to atone and finally get free from his past. During the show, they would be incredibly unhealthy (this is super intriguing and part of what makes the show compelling). But once they find a resolution to their respective traumas and Juwon arrests Dongsik, they both get to start fresh on a more equal footing, healed. Will they always be good for each other? Life is impossible to predict. Their traumas overlap, but in a complementary way, and I think the show means for us to assume they live well after the credits roll. (That being said, I'm not the moral police + I do like to Put That Man Through the Horrors, so I'm equally pleased with fic that explores the potential incompatibilities. Just, let's let 'em be happy sometimes too!!!) @vindicated-truth I agree with the point that what matters is the timing. I respect the concept of hatefucking lol and I can see it happening theoretically, the way some fanfics explore it happening within the series, and I can respect the concept of it. I just don't think it's realistically healthy, even though I do agree that it's not the point of exploring it in fanfic lol, and anyone is free to explore literally anything when it comes to fictional characters, because none of it will ever have an impact in reality. Realistically speaking, I think the show in general did a very good job of telling the story of Beyond Evil in that even the character developments and relationship developments were really solidly done, and it does provide a warmer, softer, more peaceful picture of life and healing for all of them at the end of the series. Realistically speaking, this is the best time for them to start anew, and to build upon that intensely forged bond of trust and devotion. And I think that's what makes the open-ended finale of the show so fitting and so beautiful: because you as the audience now know, without a doubt, that from thereon, things can only be better from there. Whatever happens next, it's finally going to be good for everyone, because everything bad has finally been put to rest behind them. They can all only move forward from there, and in a way that is finally good. And I think that's the best we can see happening even with Dongsik's and Joowon's relationship, no matter where it leads. (It's unspoken, too, that their paths will always lead them back to each other. And that's truly the best we can hope for them to have.) MY OWN 2 CENTS ? #hard agree #my take too #possibly not exactly healthy #but definitely the healthiest for them both #and no one else will beat what they have #nor understand them as intrinsically #THEM @vindicated-truth : @woodohwanedandproud I like that—not exactly healthy, but healthiest for each other. I agree, actually, which is why theoretical new people deserve better than what they’ll get with either men, who have a LOT of intense baggage. And to be fair to Joowon and Dongsik, they need someone who can actually understand that part of who they are—and who are capable enough to carry that baggage WITH them. Someone new may not deserve that kind of baggage, but most importantly—they may not be capable of handling it. And I think that’s what Dongsik and Joowon have proven, without a doubt: they can handle each other, even at their absolute worst. (And again, the “worst” of who they are and what they’re capable of may not be something someone new deserves, either) (me again) yep, they just FIT together - and it makes me SO emotional ... sigh, sigh, dreamy sigh, THEM, insane screaming, AAAHHH, THEM !!! (so btw we're SO lucky you're always so articulate, thanks again and always for hitting us all with all the feels :)) @actuallysecretlygrantaire : in an ideal world, i think they would be fine but relationships are work. not only would they have to work on themselves but also work on making sure that their relationship doesn’t fall apart. communication pitfalls are so easy to get into and we’ve already seen it happen with them. at the end of the day, imo, the only way their relationship could succeed is if they each know who they are/what they want, or if they’re able to support the other along that journey @vindicated-truth : I agree with this. It's also why, in the kindest way I can say this, I feel like other people don't deserve *them* in the sense that I don't think it'll be easy for someone new to understand or even accept the baggages that inevitably comes along with who they are now, after everything. I don't think you can erase the fact that Joowon's father is a murderer (which will be a shock to someone new, and hard to accept) or that Dongsik's family is broken in so many ways (which in many ways someone new might want and need a family (and a partner) that's healthier and more whole). Weirdly, for better or for worse, I do feel like the best candidate for each other is—each other. As long as they really do put in that effort and work to understand and accept each other, and support each other. I feel like Dongsik would be someone who'd intimately understand Joowon's complete devotion to work, and Joowon would be someone who'd intimately understand this sort of aimlessness Dongsik has in his life after everything. Neither of those attributes would be enticing to someone new, but it's something they intimately understand why.

As someone who loves both characters individually and together, I keep wondering if Dongsik's and Joowon's relationship is healthy.

(Please feel free to chime in with your own views, let's figure this out together lol)

Are they enablers of each other?

Yes, in a way, especially when they had no choice to, if they want to solve the cases they're working on together. They did it, however, with the promise / threat that they will each be punished for their own wrongdoing in the end.

Do they owe each other anything?

Yes, but at the same time they kind of neutralize each other in the end. Dongsik owes Joowon for catching Han Kihwan, but at the same time Joowon is also the one who arrests him. At the same time, Joowon owes Dongsik for having his own father be the murderer of Dongsik's sister, yet he brought justice to Dongsik in the end, and even followed through with Dongsik making him vow to live the rest of his life as a cop.

(To be honest, I don't think you can give a worse punishment to someone with a very rigid and absolute moral compass than to not get out of a very corrupt and broken system.)

Do they have an equal footing with each other in their hierarchical society?

Not at the beginning, but they do in the end.

Do they have a rose-colored glasses view of each other?

This is debatable, when from the very beginning they've already seen the absolute worst of each other. They can only go up from there, so to speak, since they've never really forgotten each of the other's flaws even as their relationship progressed into something less combative and more of grudging awe.

They do have a somewhat idealized view of each other in the end, but that's mostly because of experience, what they went through together: they know exactly what the other did for them, and can't help but feel grateful for it.

Do they complement each other?

I've written multiple posts about it lol, so it goes without saying that in many, many ways, their weaknesses are complemented extremely well by the other's strengths.

Do they ruin each other?

See, this is the thing: I think they've ruined each other for other people.

Their relationship evolved from a unique mix of their own complementary traits and their special circumstances, neither of which I believe can be replicated by and with anyone else.

No one else would have a deeper understanding of Dongsik's lunacy than Joowon, who witnessed first hand what drove him to it—and by whom.

No one else would have a deeper understanding of Joowon's stubbornness than Dongsik, who witnessed first hand the lengths Joowon would go to complete his goals—and why.

It's a very unique circumstance that only the two of them will share and intimately know about each other, for better or for worse, by virtue of the fact that they are each driven to be who they are now, ironically, by Han Kihwan.

By virtue of being Lee Yuyeon's murderer, and by virtue of being Han Joowon's father.

That's the power Han Kihwan had and will always have over them. They are who they are in part because of what he did to them, separately and together.

That's what makes him the true monster of the story, the "final boss" of the series of monsters that both Dongsik and Joowon had to deal with, not because he was the "best" or "most powerful" of the villains—he was actually the weakest, stupidest, and most cowardly of them all—but he had the most impact to each of their lives, in the absolute worst way.

And isn't that the true evil? What is truly angering of all? That the least of them all had the most damage done to the best of people.

Would it be healthier for them to end up with other people, someone new and different?

Objectively—yes.

My worry for Joowon is that he might always feel like he owes Dongsik, just because he intimately knows what his own family did to Dongsik's family.

And my worry for Dongsik is that he might always feel like he owes Joowon too, precisely because he intimately knows everything Joowon had to give up in order to bring justice to him.

There's a chance that their relationship might evolve the same way as, for example, Nam Sangbae's relationship with Dongsik, who had stuck with him with some misplaced sense of responsibility—even as his love and care for Dongsik had been sincere—because it was colored by guilt.

For Joowon's and Dongsik's relationship in particular, it wouldn't necessarily be out of guilt—they've already punished each other, so to speak, in ways they deem fitting—but out of gratitude.

I can't be sure if that's a healthy foundation of a relationship, to be with each other because you're grateful to them. Perhaps that's also why I find it more believable to accept the actual ending of the story as the right one, if only because they need that time apart to re-discover who they are without the shadow of Han Kihwan looming over them—in different ways—so that if and when they choose to come back to each other, it'll be after a re-affirmation of their own sense of selves, this time free from everything that had previously shackled them.

Is it better for other people to be with them?

This is just the reverse of the question above, and honestly? My objective answer is no.

It is with complete and utter love for the both of them that I say they may have ruined each other for other people.

For Joowon in particular, his new theoretical significant other might want and need a partner who would have more attention and time for them as a family, instead of one who is completely and utterly devoted to his duty as a cop.

For Dongsik in particular, his new theoretical significant other might want and need a partner who has more concrete goals and ambitions in life, and not someone who is just starting to figure out his own identity and his life after finally being free from all the shadows that dogged his steps for decades.

Because the thing is, I'm not entirely sure that their new significant others would deserve them, just because I'm also not entirely sure neither Dongsik nor Joowon would be completely happy—even as they might have sincerely loved their new theoretical partners in return—with someone who wouldn't have completely understood who they are and what they've gone through, and what they're still going through.

For better or for worse, I don't think there's anyone else who can completely understand and accept them, the best and the worst of who they are—other than each other.

In conclusion: Is it healthy?

In time, it can be. Let them come back to each other at their own pace, in their own time.

I think they do know, deep in their hearts, that—for better or for worse—there will be no other.

And I think that can also be their motivation too, to do their best to make up for their mistakes, to live their best life and be the best of who they can be, and find their own ways to heal and move forward, because they have someone waiting for them.

Someone to come home to.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - VIII

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,600+

Warning: Mention of sexual assault 

Previously on…

“Going along with this plan seems rather unlike you,” Tim finally pointed out to Bruce.

It was the two younger boys and Bruce sitting in the cave. 

“Without her help, we would have never been able to get the evidence we need to take down The Court of Owls,” Bruce sighed as he looked up at the screens.

“Yeah, but like you said before, we never use our own as bait,” Tim countered.

“Y/N knows what she’s doing.”

Tim and Damian shared a look.

“Are you certain things have not gone too personal, father?” Damian finally asked.

The personal question finally forced Bruce to tear his eyes away from the screens and look at his son.

His gaze shifted between Tim and Damian. From their looks alone, Bruce realized that his feelings towards Y/N were not as subtle and secret as he wanted.

But Bruce knew better than to answer Damian. 

The boy had never been invested in his father’s personal relationships before. Why did he have to start now? And with Y/N?

“What happens if things go south?” Tim challenged.

But Damian answered for his father. “You know he has a plan B and C, Drake. He always does, even if he doesn’t share it.”

Bruce was not about to have a conversation about his love and sex life with his two youngest sons. So, he thought of something to escape and he thought of it fast.

He stood up quickly and faced them. “Mandatory family dinner. Tonight.”

“What!?” Damian screamed in outrage.

“I don’t want to,” Tim whined like a baby, even though he was very much a young man standing at the ripe age of 19.

“Mandatory,” Bruce repeated solidly before leaving the cave.

Damian and Tim shared a look.

“This is your fault,” Tim accused.

“How is it my fault?”

“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut about the sexual tension we’re all choking on in this damn mansion!”

“But you don’t disagree. You’ve noticed it as well.”

“I was a little late to the game, but yes,” Tim admitted.

“She’s not like the other ones,” Damian muttered so quietly that Tim almost missed it. 

“No, she’s not,” Tim confirmed. 

——————

Bruce was slightly surprised to find Y/N sitting at the outdoor pool, reading a book.

She wasn’t in a bathing suit – just shorts and a t-shirt.

Bruce walked over with his hands in the pocket of his slacks.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think that you’re starting to like it here.”

She looked up from her book with a smirk. “For the record, I still think we should ‘eat the rich.’”

Bruce smirked. “Right. Of course.”

Y/N eyed him. “Did you need something?”

“Are you sure about this?”

Of course he was coming to try and talk her out of the plan once again.

“Bruce, I’m not changing my mind.”

“Figured you would say that.”

Y/N could see his mind racing. It was obvious he hadn’t stopped thinking about everything that could wrong with. Bruce needed control. And even if he was going into an inevitably dangerous situation, he always had multiple plans to get out alive. Y/N’s involvement made it harder for him to do that. 

“Careful,” she warned him playfully, “It’s starting to look like you’re worried about me.”

“I am,” he retorted.

Her amusement vanished. “I didn’t think you worried. Or got scared.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you had realized by now that both of those things happen when you’re involved.”

She didn’t know how to respond that. She really didn’t.

“I also came out here to tell you we’re having a family dinner tonight.” Yes, Dick and Tim were basically living at the manor while they handled this specific case. But it was rare that the whole family ate together. All the boys would come back from patrol at different times. Alfred usually made something and put each of their meals in the oven or fridge for when they got back.

But Bruce made a habit of having mandatory family dinners. They weren’t frequent. And the boys often viewed them as some sort of punishment. But Bruce saw it as a way to remind them all that they were a family. A chaotic and a strange one, but they were still a family.

“It would be nice if you could join us,” Bruce added politely.  

Y/N smiled at how obvious it was that he was choosing his words carefully. “It was really hard for you to not me tell what to do, wasn’t it?”

He narrowed his gaze at her from being caught.

She never seemed to miss an opportunity to tease him. 

“Yes. I’ll join you.”

Bruce nodded, clearly pleased with her answer.

“Will you miss it?” Bruce surprised her by asking as he looked around at the exterior of the manor, looking almost lost in thought.

“It’s a home,” Y/N sighed. “And even with all the secrets and dark pasts, it’s still filled with happy memories, too. And a family.” 

Then she smirked. “Even if it’s a highly dysfunctional one,” she added teasingly.

“Not sure all the boys would agree with you on that.”

“Are you sure about that?” Y/N challenged.

———————

Y/N walked out of her bedroom right as Dick was dragging Damian down the hallway.

“Come on. It’s never as bad as you think it’s gonna be,” Dick tried to tell the boy.

“Why did Todd come? He never comes to family dinner. He doesn’t even see us as his family.”

Dick smirked. “You and I both know that’s not true, no matter how many times he tries to convince everyone – even himself.”

Then both of them noticed Y/N’s presence in the hallway.

“You look pretty,” Dick complimented.

Y/N looked down at her outfit and shrugged. “Figured I could make a bit more of an effort.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Damian huffed before leaving the two of them behind.

Y/N and Dick both laughed lightly at his attitude.

“I’ve never told you how good you are with him,” she thought aloud.

“I don’t know about that…”

Y/N turned to him with an insistent look. “You are. Sometimes I think he listens to you more than Bruce. He looks up to you. I think it’s because…” her words die out.

“What? What you were going to say?”

Y/N still hesitated, but told him anyway. “I think it’s because you’re more available to him…emotionally, I mean.”

“Sometimes I feel like I have to talk to him the same way I do with Bruce. He’s a younger carbon copy of the guy. Just brattier.” Dick sighed. “Deep down, Damian has a good heart and he cares deeply about the people in his life. He’ll just never admit it.”

Y/N nodded.

It did sound like Bruce.

But Y/N never considered Dick would have a similar impact on Bruce that he also had with Damian. She wondered what Bruce would be like today if he had never taken in an orphaned Richard Grayson.

Sometimes Y/N believed Bruce would be completely devoid of any and all emotions if it hadn’t been for an adolescent Dick. His needs and wants as a child had prevented Bruce from turning completely into a callous vigilante with nothing tying him to his own humanity and life.

Y/N was about to continue her walk to the dining room, but Dick softly grabbed her arm.

“Hey, before we walking into the chaos…” Dick cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure we’re okay after the other night.” He shifted his weight and looked at the ground. “If I was too forward or I misread something or–”

“Dick?” Y/N interrupted with a smug look.

His head shot up to look at her. “Yeah?”

She had a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Then she moved into Dick’s space, closing the distance between their bodies and did not stop until they could feel each other’s body heat.

Y/N tipped her head as if she was about to kiss him.

But her lips stopped just a centimeter or two from his.

Dick’s eyes turned menacing once he realized she was messing with him.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered seductively, “we’re okay.”

Then she slipped away quickly and started walking away without him.

“That was cruel!” Dick called after her.

But her only response was her laugher from down the hall.

Dick shook his head, but couldn’t stop his smiling.

Maybe it was avoidance or a distraction from the reality of their relationship. But Y/N couldn’t deny that it was also fun.

—

Dinner was in the formal dining room of the manor. This was the first time Y/N had even stepped foot in the room. The fireplace was even lit. Even when Wayne Manor was hardly trying, it reminded Y/N how out of place she was.  “If I have to sit through this bullshit, you’re sitting next to me,” Jason said from behind Y/N, making her jump.

To her horror, Jason pulled out a seat at the head of the table. Two at each end and then two chairs in the middle on both sides.

“Oh, I don’t think–” Y/N stuttered out in panic.

“You’re the guest,” Jason cut her off and gently pushed in the chair when he finally got her to sit.

Damian was already sitting to the right, closer to the other head of the table– probably to be closer to his father.

Jason sat down to the left of Y/N. And when Dick finally caught up to her, he didn’t question Y/N sitting at the head and sat to the right of her.

“Perfect. You’re like our future step mom,” Jason declared.

Damian snickered, despite hating to laugh at Jason’s joke.

But Y/N looked horrified. She was about to jump up and take the remaining middle seat on the other side of Jason. But Tim’s timing was absolutely horrendous.

“Please switch spots with me,” Y/N leaned forward and hissed at Dick.

He smirked. “Absolutely not.”

When he saw her obvious panic, he leaned forward as well and whispered, “That’s payback for earlier.”

Y/N glared at him and huffed.

“Oh, I’m so glad I came,” Jason sighed.

Bruce walked into the room with his head held high. “Tim, no phones. You know better.”

Tim sighed in annoyance but slipped his phone into his back pocket.

Dick leaned to Y/N. “Bruce has a strict ‘no electronics’ rule for family dinners. Phones are forbidden.”

Y/N nodded, even though she would never be so rude as to bring a phone to dinner, especially when she was a guest and this was a literal “manor.”

Somehow Jason had pulled a bottle of red wine from nowhere. Or maybe it had been sitting on the table and Y/N had just missed it.

And Jason had already grabbed Y/N’s glass and gave her a heavy pour. “But drinking is highly encouraged,” he added with a crooked smile.

Y/N barely let him finish pouring before she grabbed the wine and chugged. 

When she put the glass back down, Bruce was watching her carefully. She at least had enough shame to sink lower in her chair and give him an apologetic look.

But Bruce was amused more than anything.

He’d never brought a woman to a family dinner like this. And though the situation was not that straightforward, it was still causing him a weird amount of anxiety.

“How are your lessons going, Damian?” Bruce broke the tension with the question.

Damian muttered off what sounded like rehearsed and generic statements about his personal studies.

“I didn’t even know he went to school,” Y/N muttered to Dick as Damian and Bruce talked.

“He doesn’t. He’s technically homeschooled,” Jason answered first. “Which is total bullshit seeing as all of us were forced to go to Gotham Academy with all the spoiled brats of the city.”

“As if it mattered, you died before you were forced to graduate from the stupid establishment,” Damian commented darkly.

Jason beamed and laughed lightly at the comment.

But Dick, Tim, and Y/N all froze and looked to Bruce.

They all knew it was a sensitive topic. 

Bruce was clearly trying his hardest not to scold them all night. So he just took in a deep, shaky breath.

“Why get your GED or drop out of high school when you can just get murdered?” Jason offered with enthusiasm.

“Jason,” Y/N warned lowly when she saw the pained look on Bruce’s face that he was trying so hard to hide.

Jason’s death still haunted Bruce and riddled him with guilt – despite the miracle of him being resurrected. Y/N probably knew that more than any of the boys. Maybe only Dick really shared that understanding.

“You’re right,” Jason agreed. “Tonight’s not about me. You’re the guest, Y/N. Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but the words got caught in her throat when she felt everyone’s eyes on her.

This was not how she imagined tonight going.

But Alfred – her savior – interrupted with the first course of soup and salad.

Everyone was momentarily distracted with the food.

Y/N hoped it stayed that way.

“Who taught you how to hack?” Damian piped up.

Y/N relaxed at that particular question. “No one. I taught myself.”

“Where’s your family?” Tim asked innocently.

Y/N flipped through all the possible lies she could tell, deciding to go with the one that would lead to the least amount of follow-up questions. And it wasn’t a lie at all.

“We’re estranged,” Y/N mumbled without looking up from her food.

“Parents are overrated,” Jason commented with a smirk.

Dick and Bruce glared at him.

However, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with Jason.

Little did she know that Jason could relate to her upbringing far more than anyone else at the table. Their childhood’s were parallel. Ones neither of them deserved. 

Tim instantly felt guilty for asking an uncomfortable question without realizing it.

“Y/N is not here to be interrogated,” Bruce warned the table.

“Well, why don’t you tell us about her, B?” Jason answered. “How exactly did you two meet again?”

Bruce narrowed his gaze. He knew what game this was. The more emotion and reaction he showed, the more it would encourage Jason to continue with such antics. “We worked on a case together a couple years ago,” was all Bruce supplied.

“More like she threatened you into working with her,” Dick mumbled as he tried to hide his smirk by licking his lips.

Y/N kicked him under the table.

“So, Y/N, have you always had a thing for older men?” Jason asked.

She gave him a death glare.

“Jason, come on.” Dick cautioned.

“I mean, you of all people should be curious, Dickie.”

Everyone went quiet.

Jason rolled his eyes and looked around the table. “Oh. Are we all pretending there’s not a weird love triangle going on?”

“I didn’t realize my sex life was up for discussion tonight,” Y/N mumbled.

But it wasn’t just sex was it?

“Why don’t we all go around the table and share!?” Jason suggested loudly. “Dick, you first. What’s your number?”

“Jason that is enough.” Bruce grunted.

But Y/N had it with Jason’s pot stirring and she wasn’t going to let Bruce fight her battles for her.

She snapped her head in Jason’s direction. “I hope you don’t have a sex tape laying around, because I will sell that shit to PornHub faster than you can jerk off,” she threatened.

The words slipped out of Y/N’s mouth so quickly that she had momentarily forgotten that a literal child was also sitting at the dinner table.

Her hand slammed over her mouth and her eyes widened in shock. 

Jason threw his head back with laughter. This was exactly the chaos he was trying to start.

Her eyes whipped to Damian with horror as she blurted out, “I am so sorry!"

“Please, I know what fornication is,” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m not so innocent. After all, I was conceived from my mother drugging my father and forcing coitus onto him.”

“I also slept with said mother,” Jason chimed in.

Tim made a disgusted gag noise.  

Dick rubbed his face in exhaustion. Y/N’s jaw dropped at this new information. 

But when she looked to Bruce, he wouldn’t meet her stare, only further proving it was all true.

This was no laughing matter. 

Yet the whole family seemed desensitized by the subject.  

Y/N was processing that Bruce had gone through such an assault – and by the mother of his only biological son, nonetheless. “Can Jonathan come over soon for a sleepover, father?” Damian suddenly asked.

The subject change was like whiplash on the entire table.

Y/N couldn’t keep up. She couldn’t just move past what she found out like that. 

“I don’t see why not,” Bruce answered.

Clearly he was grateful for his son’s short attention span and his inability to read the room and realize he’d said something entirely inappropriate for the situation. 

But Y/N could also see the subtle happiness in Bruce’s eyes from his son asking him such a question. And for that split second, this felt like a normal family.

“Who’s Jonathan?” Y/N asked Dick quietly.

She was trying to follow Bruce’s lead and move on. 

“Superman’s son,” Dick provided.

“And literally Damian’s only friend,” Jason added.

“I heard that!” Damian shouted.

“I meant you to!”

“Put that knife down, Damian.” Bruce warned. “What have I told you?”

Damian lowered his head in shame. “The knives at the dinner table are for eating, and are not to be used as weapons under any circumstance.”

The table suddenly erupted into various conversations. Tim started talking Wayne Enterprises business with Bruce. Damian and Jason were shooting insults at each other. Alfred brought in another course.

Dick and Y/N shared a moment.

She sighed, realizing that the worst of it was probably over now.

‘Sorry,’ Dick mouthed to her.

‘It’s OK,’ she mouthed back.

The dinner continue with filet mignon, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, mushroom bordelaise, and – thankfully – more wine. 

Maybe Jason had helped them all in a way by airing out all their dirty laundry immediately and getting it over with so they could move on.

But as Y/N looked around the table, listening to the boys and Bruce talk, she realized that maybe – just maybe – she didn’t want to leave. 

—

Alfred put all the boys to work cleaning the dishes after dinner.

But he refused to allow Y/N to help. Once a guest always a guest.

Alfred handed Y/N a fresh glass of wine and told her to wait in the drawing room and that he’d bring dessert within the hour.  

Y/N knew better than to argue with him and did as she was told.

There was a roaring fire in the room, pulling her to it.

“Please don’t take anything Jason said personally,” Bruce said from behind her.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. “He loves to start drama. That’s for fucking sure.”

“He’s constantly trying to get back at me. You weren’t his target. I was. But I apologize that you were caught in the crossfire.”

She turned away from the fireplace to face him.

Her eyes were heartbroken and worried.

“You never told me about…” she hesitated, “about Damian’s mother. I-I had no idea.”

“I try not to speak of it. No matter what happened in the past, Talia is still Damian’s mother.”

“But she still–”

“I’m fine,” Bruce cut her off. “Really, Y/N. I came to terms with it long ago.”

He was irritated, but too preoccupied with comforting Y/N to face the dark truth of how Damian was conceived.

“Well, if you need to ta–”

“I know, Y/N. Thank you.”

Their moment was interrupted by the boys trampling in the drawing room.

Dick had Damian thrown over his shoulder as the boy screamed insults at both Tim and Jason. Clearly Dick was preventing a full-on brawl from errupting.

The bickering and teasing continued but wasn’t anywhere near as awkward or stressful as it was at dinner. Perhaps all the glasses of wine Y/N had were helping with that. She decided to simply sit back and watch the Wayne family.

Eventually it hit Damian’s bed time. Bruce insisted on tucking his son into bed. 

Jason took their leave as his cue to leave the manor. 

Tim went up to his own room. Except they all knew it wasn’t to sleep, but to get back to work and not stop until he was utterly exhausted. 

The drawing room turned relaxing as Dick and Y/N were the only two who remained. 

“You survived,” Dick pointed out with a chuckle.

“I did,” Y/N answered with a light laugh.

Dick let a moment pass before he asked,  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about your parents?”

She sighed, knowing Dick was going to bring this up at some point.

“Because I don’t tell anyone about them.”

“You told Bruce,” he countered.

Her brow furrowed. “And how do you know that?”

Dick at least looked guilty for answering, “He told me.”

She glared at him. “So is that what you two do now? You talk about me with each other? Swap notes?”

“Course not. But don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical getting mad about it?”

“Hypocritical?” She shot back.

“Yeah, hypocritical. You did a background check on every single member of this family. You know my entire past. You know every woman I’ve been connected to in my life. But the moment I know something about you, it’s not OK?”

“As if you wouldn’t offer that info freely if I asked…”

“That’s exactly my point, Y/N.” Dick sounded exasperated. “I’m trying to get to know you. I’m really trying. But now I know you’ve done it before. So I’m asking you to trust me enough to do it again.”

“It’s not that simple,” Y/N mumbled before walking out of the room.

Dick let out a groan of frustration and rubbed his face.

That definitely could’ve gone better.

But Y/N’s night wasn’t free of the Wayne men yet.

Just before reaching her bedroom door, Bruce crossed her path.

“Hey!” She snapped at him. “My past isn’t something for you to announce to whoever the fuck you want.”

“Y/N, that’s–”

“Save it,” Y/N snapped before he could get a word in. “Whatever broody and cryptic bullshit you’re about to spew…just…save it, k?”

And with that, Y/N slammed her bedroom door shut.

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

Part 9

A/N: I know a lot of people really hate the Talia/Bruce sexual assualt storyline. But that was the version of Damian’s conception that I was most familiar with. I didn’t want to make light of it, because we all know male victims of sexual assault are not taken seriously – and that’s fucked up. But I also didn’t want to linger on it too long since it’s such a disliked plot point

Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!! Pretty, pretty please. 😔

[jjheejz]

at this point, are we doing anything good by keeping silence? he is removed from alumnus list of his uni TT . TT china is removing clarification articles while keeping the rumors afloat. the government and entertainment side definitely won't let him come back. and with how they are keeping bad opinions online, how can we be sure he is safe? what if someone takes extreme action and harms him?

Hi Anon,

Alright, take a deep breath.

Take about 5 times.

Done?

Okay, you can start by reading this artwork. Read it before you come back to your asks' answer below alright?

//

Now, if you break your silence:

Alright, first of all, what do you plan to do? Do you have the resources like that post link I gave above to influence anything and make sure your voice is not suppressed? Do you have a concise plan on who you should be targeting? Are you able to foretell their next move? Do you know what their motive is? In what position are you standing against them as?

Secondly, being removed (of works, update: name is still up on his University) is for now, a part of their plan.

While we are at this, removing those works is to garner a scurry mindset among fans, like this ask here, so that they will come out of their silence and be set as an example of the article below (black sheep) - an update too.

The key word is: Plan. Why? Data (and now evidence). Why? Because they are targeted. So? They need a black sheep. Why? Read this (new updated info for those drinking wine or tea or coffee 🍷 and watching). Diverting attention away from the root cause - themselves. (If you are unable to fathom this, forget about breaking silence).

Thirdly, justify 'definitely'. Which official source did you hear from that it is a 'definite'? Was there an official announcement that announced a confirmed permanent ban? Up till now, there is only one announcement. Read this, everything.

Lastly, if the government never officially stated any news (like K), it is against the law to do anything to him. So for now, you can put down this worry.

There may be sentiments of not trusting the Government, which is fine because sure this country does not really have the best international reputation, but in terms of settling internal affairs, they still have their standards (K case is one example).

Go out and it's a sure-lose situation. Remember, we are fans, put it bluntly, the lowest level to influence any action to this huge industry that's beyond just an 'expectation' viewpoint.

I understand that you may feel if not doing anything is really alright, and that each passing news of him brings more worry and sadness yet we can only keep silent is almost a hopeless feeling. I've been there.

So this is why firstly, avoid twitter/youtube for now (you need to stabilise yourself first). Secondly, understand the full situation. This blog may be just have a list of posts at a not-so-trustable-to-get-info site, but i hope it helps you see certain perspectives. (And you spent your time to ask me, knowing what my blog currently is, so give it a try :))

Once this two are solidly rooted, it becomes easier to pass by the toxic area (not emotionally affected, and seeing the entire bigger picture with its course).

Still, if you or anyone is concerned, feel free to drop me a DM. 💛

Apologies if I sound harsh, if any. Will drop the content page link below for you :)

Same advice to all: Stay silent everyone. To those who are affected, avoid them all. Focus on yourself. And to those who are mentally strong, just watch (don't engage through any social media). 🍷 It opens a perspective each step they plan take.

Answered on 25.8.21

[paperpocalypse]

crackers and jam.

50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 41. Overhearing they have feelings for you.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 1,703 words

Warnings: Swearing

Some time back, not long after he got stranded in the post-apocalyptic world and perhaps a year and a half before running into you, Five’s only companion was Delores.

It had been a meeting of chance (as everything is) in the middle of a destroyed department store. She had been looking at him. And maybe that’s why he was so drawn in – that stare; it was a lifeless stare, yeah, but it was not by any means a dead stare like the ones he had met too many times before. No life had been lost to create that stare. She was smiling, too.

Five had lifted her carefully out of the chunks of concrete, greeting her because there was no one else. For the first few weeks, he just placed her at the corner of her store and visited every once in a while, then took to occasionally toting her around the City when he needed to talk. He liked to pretend that she answered back – sometimes. After a few months, he named her Delores.

Then he met you.

Unlike Delores, you were human. Breathing. Alive, somehow. And you had thoughts and feelings that weren’t always connected to his and – and it was weird. It was home.

You didn’t question his friendship with Delores. Five had seen the half-burned stuffed frog in your wagon, so you wouldn’t have had anything to hold over him anyway. He knew that you knew that he still went to the department store in the middle of the night. And, shit, deep down Five also knew that Delores was, in the end, just a hunk of plastic with eyes. But after a year and a half of having nobody else, she had become something of a comfort. And a confidant. Burdening you with his issues was not an option, so when things became a little shittier than usual, he would slip out from underneath his blanket, make sure you weren’t having a nightmare, and head downtown to voice his thoughts aloud.

Over time, though, he learned that you were willing to listen. You listened, and you were always kind about it even if you didn’t always understand. His nightly visits decreased. And it was okay for a while.

But then Five began to struggle with a new issue – one that was a little different than the usual mess of stress and anxiety – and one night, he finds himself looking down at Delores again because talking to you about it is definitely off the table.

Unfortunately, Delores’s kindness is different from yours.

Well, here we are. Again.

“I’m just here to think,” he snaps, combing a grubby hand through his tangled mess of hair. The lantern beside him glows weakly as he plops down onto a slab of concrete. “Mind your business.”

Your business is everyone’s business here, Five. And to put my own two cents in, I think that you’re scared of your own feelings.

Blood travels to Five’s cheeks, unwarranted, as he narrows his eyes at Delores. “For the last time, that’s not what this is about. It’s – Jesus Christ, I’m gonna get over it. This isn’t a life-or-death issue.”

Then why have you been ranting about it like it is?

“I’m not.”

Ha! Rich.

He grits his teeth. She stares back at him, unperturbed. Bastard.

You know, maybe you’ll feel better if you say it out loud. Air it out. Test to see if it’s real.

“I’m not doing that.”

Do it.

No.

Say it.

No.

For god’s sake, Number Five, take a goddamn look at yourself –

“Fine!” Five hisses, though it feels more like an explosion. He throws his hands up. “I like [Y/n], alright? We’re the last people on this goddamn planet and I like them, and I shouldn’t care this much but I do. Happy?”

Delores pauses. Five looks away.

Very.

Ugh.

Did it feel real?

He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms, and doesn’t answer. The smile on Delores’s face seems a little smug, and it makes him want to hurl. He shouldn’t have said it out loud. Relieve some of the pressure and everything starts to boil over …

Breathing in deeply, Five forces his shoulders to relax. He bids a soft goodbye to Delores, then heads back to camp.

—

A week later, Five’s visit comes back to bite him in the worst way possible.

You’ve been having a hard time starting the fire for tonight, so he finishes splitting the evening rations to help you out with the bow drill. As he does so, you watch in silence, both of you waiting patiently for the smoke and dust.

“Do you think we have enough wood?” you eventually ask.  

“It’s enough,” he murmurs, only half paying attention. After a while, a few chalky wisps of smoke begin to rise from the charring wood. He leans in to blow the ember carefully once it forms, then puts it into the tinder and coaxes out a flame. “Get the kindling?”

You oblige, and within a few minutes, a healthy fire starts to dance atop the wood, scorching his face and fingers with heat. Five stares intently at the oranges and yellows for a moment, lips pressed together, intrigued in a tired sort of way. Warmth. Then he backs off and grabs a portion of crumbled up crackers, handing it to you.

You spread the cloth over your knees. “Now all we need is some jam.”

“What kind?”

A soft hum escapes your throat. You contemplate unhurriedly, dabbing up some stray crumbs with a finger. “Blackberry,” you reply after a few moments. “Or strawberry. The kind that’s sort of chunky.”

It’s been a long time since he’s tasted either of those things. The simple thought of whole crackers spread with fresh jam, sweet and dark and sticky, is a luxury in and of itself. Five tries not to think about it too much, munching on his third fragment of stale cracker. It makes his mouth dry. “Hm,” he says, picking up the canteen for a few drops of water.

The fire pops. A few sparks fly out into the air and die just as quickly. You finish your supper and wipe your mouth, stretching your legs out in front of you as you sigh.

Five tilts his head at you. “What?”

“What?” you parrot back, though he sees the way your fingers fidget.

“You have something to say.”

Your facial expression shifts just the smallest bit. “How can you tell?”

(Simple – because he knows you. He knows your ticks; knows how you tick. He knows your smiles and all the subtle ways that your voice rises and falls. He’s memorized you because he fears forgetting, and it’s a problem.)

“Kind of hard not to,” Five replies.

“Oh.” You chew the inside of your cheek, still seeming unsure. “Well, um … I just wanted to talk to you about something. And please don’t be mad.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Um. A couple nights ago, I had a bad dream.”

“I know.”

“Not the one you woke me up from. A different one,” you mutter. “The night after we found the pillows.”

“Oh,” Five says.

“Yeah.” You look down at your hands. They’re dusty and rough, littered with small scars from climbing and falling and holding. “I … um, that night, I woke up and you weren’t there. And I sort of panicked, and went looking –”

The blood drains from Five’s face.

“I went looking for you, and I found you. Talking to her.” You glance at him for a split second. “About me.”

Oh, fuck.

Five stares at you as you fiddle with the scrap of cloth on your lap. You know. You weren’t supposed to know. You weren’t supposed to ever know, and now you do.

“Five?” Your voice is curious and small.

His voice is raspy. “How much did you hear?”

“Almost everything.” You grab the cuff of his coat sleeve as he attempts to stand up. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping. I really didn’t mean to, but –”

“It’s not your fault. Look, I don’t want to talk about it,” he replies tersely. “We need more firewood, anyway.”

“We have enough,” you say, though you relinquish your hold when he tugs a little harder away from you. You sound hurt. “Five, it’s okay to feel like that.”

“It’s not. It makes things more complicated.”

“How?” Standing up, your brow furrows. “I like you too, Five. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

His chest tightens. “That just makes it worse.”

“I like you,” you repeat. Your hand moves down to take his gently. “A lot. And it’s okay.”

(Did it feel real?)

Five meets your gaze solidly despite not quite wishing to, a familiar sense of guilt washing over him when you squeeze his hand.

Sometimes, he wishes he hadn’t met you. Then he would’ve gotten what he deserved for his recklessness – nothing – with nothing to concern himself with other than equations and survival and time. That, he’s fairly sure, would have been easier to manage. He hadn’t been taught to care for someone else. Not like this, at least.

But you. You. Five swallows the lump in his throat.

“I might have to leave you behind,” he murmurs, more hoarsely than he’d like to admit. The words burn like ice on the roof of his mouth. “One day.”

You don’t reply for a few seconds.

Then, for some inexplicable reason, you step a little closer. “But not tonight," you say. "Right?”

For shit’s sake, you’re so optimistic. Five chuckles dryly, hand still engulfed in yours, blinking away the vague stinging in his eyes. “Of course not.”

“Then I forgive you. If you feel like you need it.” With a mild exhale, you smile at him. Your eyes are glossy. “So can we sit back down? I like doing that.”

He quietly agrees.

So you bring him back down to sit before the fire, closer to him than before. No more words are left to be said. A heavy silence settles in their place, neither good nor bad, and almost comfortable. For the first time in a long time, Five tries not to think.

You lean against his shoulder. He welcomes it.

[anankelotus]

The Dog That Sleeps Beneath the Eaves

bxldrsdraumar​:

When Sigurd had first began to regain his consciousness, he had heard talk of the city beneath the monastery. ‘Abyss’, it was called, and spoken of only in hushed tones - if it was spoken by name at all. Often it was merely hinted at, sotto voce, when his caretakers assumed he was still too delirious to hear or understand.

They were right, but it didn’t stop them from continuing to gossip after he had become more hale, moving about the upper levels of the monastery’s main keep in his convalescence. And it certainly did not stop those on the ground level from whispering about it, when he was well enough to visit the training hall, cathedral, verandas.

A place for outcasts, it was said. For atonement. For hiding.

From what, it was unclear, though it seemed to Sigurd if everyone spoke of it, it must not be a very good hiding place. Indeed, it only took a little curiosity from him, the barest mention of interest, and he was able to find the location of its entrance.

A man, armed and in brigandine and furs, eyed him warily, and his hesitance only increased when he spied the Church of Seiros patch embroidered on Sigurd’s tunic, a symbol of his place in the knights. “Listen, we have no need of trouble down here, this lot’s seen enough.”

“Just as well,” he said, “for I’ve none to give. I…merely came to see for myself.”

It seemed natural in his duties as a noble to see how those less fortunate suffered, to take in the status his home with the good and the bad, but for all that he meant it kindly the gatekeeper seemed to  take insult with the notion, bowing sarcastically. “Oh, well, then by all means. Take in the sights. Tourists,” he snorted.

Regardless, he took this to mean that he was permitted entry, and did just that: he took everything in, walking slowly about the market street, peering into the labyrinthine sewer pathways, even stopping into the ramshackle pub for half a moment.

“By the Crusaders,” he murmured. His heart ached to see such a place, to imagine the dire straits that these people must have suffered to feel the need to scurry about underneath the earth. Was the Church doing nothing for these people? He had half a mind to ask.

He spun on his heel abruptly, intent on moving out of what appeared to be their library, colliding solidly with the man that appeared to be trying to enter.

“Oh, my goodness!” Sigurd’s hand lashed out on instinct, gripping the man’s arm to steady him. “I was lost in thought. I am Sigurd, of…of the Knights of Seiros. Please accept my humblest apologies, my lord…?” He trailed off, prompting the man for his name.

Anankos hovers, like he always does. Though, to others it may seem more like eavesdropping. He bows his head to guard across the way, both of them seeming to be equally confused why some... upstanding knight would come down here to dark and dusty Abyss. He sighs, shaking his head and turning to follow the knight into the library, but instead of slipping through the doorway quietly like he had expected, he finds himself falling to the floor before being caught a strong and sturdy hand.

He startles as his cloak has fallen quickly tugging it back to cover his face, that surely horrifying sight to any human. It is horrifying to himself, after all, so how could anyone else look upon it with such pure and innocent eyes?

“My lord...? I’m sorry, but I am not lord... if my lurking beneath the surface is any proof of that statement... but you... you may call me Anankos...” His voices trembles as he tries to smile from beneath the hood, but it is a wavering smile, like waves lapping at the edge of the sand. His light blue hair tumbles over his shoulders, long and unkempt as he drags a nervous hand through it. Is this knight here for him alone? To make him pay for everything that he had done? Probably not, but Anankos is always so paranoid. Scared of everything around him, scared that those who are purehearted and want to help are there to cause him more pain in his endless burden filled life.

“You are curious... Lord Sigurd... wandering about like you have never seen those who wish to hide before. Do you judge us... or the place that we have chosen to live? I may not be much... but Abyss has been my home for nearly a year now... and I would not hesitate to protect it from any outsiders who aim to hurt us...”

[mccoymccoymccoy]

Bones - Sweetheart

A/N: this was written with aos bones in mind but i think it works either way! :]

Word count: 2059

Even the rhythmic beeping of the various instruments within the sickbay was irritating you today. It was slow, lonely, and cold; you’d been simply sitting at Dr. McCoy’s desk playing a memory game with the computer for half the day. For the last hour, though, you’d gotten every answer wrong. 

“Where was the last Federation ship found after being reported missing?” It felt like there was a thick smoke preventing your brain from figuring out the answer, but you tried: “Torman V.”

“Negative. Pollux V.”

You sighed. At least I got the number right. That counts for somethin’, doesn’t it?

Taking your head out of your hands, you instead crossed them on the desk and laid your head down on them. “Computer, end game.” The computer stayed silent. As did you, for the next half an hour or so until Dr. McCoy came back. You considered yourself and Bones to be good friends, the two of you were practically inseparable- now being an obvious exception. The two of you worked the same shift for as long as you’d been on the Enterprise, and even before that, you’d been… well, more or less, drinking buddies at the academy. 

Today he’d gone down to a planet, alongside the captain and a few other nurses, to take care of a medical emergency. They left before your shift started. Why he didn’t wake you to go along was confusing, did he not want you there? Was it biased? Is he upset with you? You sighed, tracing little patterns onto the desk idly when the door opened. 

“Y/N! We’re back!” You couldn’t tell who spoke to you, just that it wasn’t Leonard. You didn’t respond, just mumbled and nodded against your arms. You heard shuffling and breathing and equipment being put down, and you closed your eyes. He musta’ had to stay with the Captain, you concluded to yourself in dismay. You didn’t understand why being away from him was so devastating, it’s not like you’ve never had to stay here alone all day before! The only thing you could think of was it was amplifying an already bad mood, but you weren’t upset at anyone or anything either. You just felt… empty. 

And now you felt… warm? There was something warm on your back. 

“Not gonna welcome us back, Y/N?” Bones cooed. Peeking through one eye, you found the energy to lift a corner of your mouth into a small smile for the good doctor, who was doing the same down at you. It was, evidently, his hand on your back, and he was leaning against his other hand which was resting next to you on the table. He was like a big wall, creating a space for just the two of you there. Though you were internally overjoyed, it just wouldn’t show through. “‘Course, doc,” you said quietly, “welcome back.” He frowned slightly.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He moved in more. Taking his hand from your back to lean closer against the desk on his forearm immediately bought back the cold empty feeling from earlier. You sat up and turned in the chair to face him, but looked down at his hand hanging off the edge of the table. You swivelled the chair side to side, anxious to just get to talk to him, knowing it won’t be now.

“Nothing really. Just been lonely without you here all day. Not much to do, y’know. I played games with the computer for most of the time.”

“Sorry ’bout that, doll. We had our hands full down there for longer than we thought we would. Maybe I could’ve used you there after all.” You looked up at that to see him smiling down at you again, but you couldn’t say anything. He used affectionate nicknames on you all the time, and every time, it made your heart skip a beat. You knew it was natural for him, not necessarily intending anything, but you couldn’t help but get lost in his words sometimes. Putting your head back on an arm on the desk, you started to play with Leonard’s hand with your free one. God, how you loved his hands. Bones watched you silently for a few moments while you mustered up the courage to speak again.

“Why did you leave me here? Did I do something?” A sigh came from him as an initial response.

“No, you didn’t do anything. You needed the rest. I’ve seen you all spaced out recently, it isn’t like you. I knew you wouldn’t agree to take the day off if I’d told you to, so I took the opportunity as soon as it came up. Pretty lucky it did, too- I was gettin’ pretty damn close to lockin’ you up in your quarters.”

A blush crept onto your face, and you hoped he wasn’t looking too closely. 

“Mighty kind of you, doc,” you quipped sarcastically, smiling. He laughed, but quietly- or intimately, as your brain twisted it. His other hand came up to your chin and pulled your face up gently so he could look at you, which then definitely would’ve shown off the red on your cheeks like fine paintings at a gallery.

 “Y/N, you’re taking tomorrow off as well. No objections. Sitting here won’t have done you much good if you were just worrying about us gettin’ back.” 

A crude mix of warmth and dread began to spread through your stomach. “But-” 

“No buts, darlin’. If I see you here tomorrow- or anywhere else for that matter- I will personally drag you back to your room. Is that clear?” Nodding in defeat, you looked down again, if only to hide the furious colour returning to your face from the thought of what he said. 

“Doctor, could you come review the medical log?” Much to your dismay, Bones sighed and gave a quick “Be right over.” As he started to move, you grasped his hand instead of just hovering over it. “Bones, wait.”

You bit your lip. Why were you getting so nervous? You’d never been nervous about him before. You sat up again but didn’t release his hand. “Dinner later? Dinner and chess or somethin’?”

He looked absolutely delighted, despite it being a regular occurrence. Your stomach fluttered when he turned his hand over in yours to lace your fingers together. 

“Absolutely.” He kissed your forehead, then flashed you a little smirk before letting go of your hand and going to join the nurse in the other room, leaving you flushed a bright red. That man sure knew how to make you anticipate.

All that you could think about for the rest of the day was him kissing your forehead. Years of knowing Leonard had proven he was a sweetheart, but you’d never truly felt it as solidly as then. The closest thing you could think of was any hug from him- he’d wrap you up tightly, and everything would feel peaceful for once. You’d never thought of it as romantic, though. Maybe you did, but didn’t realize it? As your brain was tearing every aspect of your friendship to shreds to analyze it, Bones snuck up behind you.

“Y/N, we goin’?” You spun around in the chair and stood up, smiling. “Mmhm,” you hummed. It hadn’t quite registered how close he was standing, you realized, as you were just a few inches apart. “Everyone else left a little while ago,” he said quietly. “Oh? How long?” You were more curious as to why he’d waited until you were alone. “Not very,” he answered, picking up your hands and stepping in a bit closer. Barely a breath between you now, you looked up. His eyes met yours and filled you with that exact warmth you felt from his hand on your back earlier. “And what’s a sweetheart like you done, waiting for everyone to leave before cornering me?” You smirked up at him and thought you might’ve seen a hint of blush on his face for a change.

“Cornering you? Is that what this is?” His words were soft, barely above a whisper. 

“I’m not sure,” you responded just as quietly. “Is it?”

“It can be.” His voice was rough, low. He moved a hand to cup your cheek- and he kissed you. Barely more than a peck, he pulled away quickly, but you reached a hand up behind his neck to stop him and pull him back. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t realized sooner how you felt about him. 

He pulled away again, and before you could do anything to bring him back, he walked you backward and against the desk, where he picked you up and sat you on it. He stood there for a moment, taking you in with his eyes, bringing his hands up to brush your arms gently. You grabbed his wrists just before his lips met yours again. “Leonard, though this does seem quite promising, perhaps we could continue this after dinner?”

He rested his forehead against yours and smiled, warm breath tickling your face. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did the same, reaching up his back. “Perhaps we can.” He pulled you off the desk and into him tightly before letting go, though still holding onto your hand to lead you to the rec room, as if you didn’t know where it was. 

You walked silently, both of your thoughts consumed by the other. In a few minutes, you got to deck five’s rec room and sat down after getting something to eat from the food dispenser. It was quiet, there were only two or three other people in the room, and not near the two of you. “Why now?” You asked.

Bones looked at you, confused, then it clicked. “Just felt right, I guess. I care about you a lot and needed to make sure you knew it. Y’think I wanted to leave you here? No. I missed you just as much as you said you did me. More, even, possibly.”

You could only stare at him in response. A smile crept onto your face, and God you just wanted to kiss him again. “How’d you know I wouldn’t, like, punch you or somethin’?” He looked up from his plate and laughed. “Are you kidding?” You shook your head. If you hadn’t realized your feelings until just recently, how had he? He sighed, not in a frustrated way. “It’s been obvious for a while. I thought you’d realize how I felt, too, to be honest. I tried to make it obvious.”

“I don’t always pick up on the obvious.”

“Clearly.”

“How long?” You wondered if he’d known longer than you did. He smiled. “‘Bout a year now. Probably earlier.”

“Really? I didn’t realize until today, really.”

“You don’t always pick up on the obvious.”

You chuckled. “Clearly.”

The two of you talked about how you felt about each other for the next hour. You learned he’d liked you for the better half of your time knowing each other now, and that he didn’t want to risk losing you as his best friend if anything did go wrong in a confession. You learned that he never shut up about you when he wasn’t with you, that Jim was getting sick of his lovesick babbling, and Spock had learned to tune him out entirely when he chose to start it up again. You learned that he was even sweeter than you ever thought you knew, and that you were the closest to being in love you’d ever been, if not already. 

Eventually, however, you decided to finally leave the rec room for something a little more private, despite it being empty aside from you. Once inside Bones’ room, he motioned to his desk, to which you tipped your head to the side in question. He smirked. “Care to sit?” You accepted, grinning, and hopped up onto the desk. He stood in front of you, leaning in to kiss your neck, but you grabbed his chin to bring his face up to yours instead. You kissed him promptly, deeply, moving your other hand to wrap around his torso as he moved his from your hips to your waist. He brought a hand up to grab your hair and gently wedged himself between your legs. 

“Shit,” you whispered into his neck. “I’ll definitely need tomorrow off, now.”

[my-simp-land]

Setting Boundaries

Lately, I've been having trouble setting boundaries in my own life, so I felt inspired to write this where there is a happy ending and not just stifling tension in the house. I hope this helps someone in need. You can do it bb. We have to take care of ourselves :)

Lucifer x reader/mc

Fluff with angst. Happy ending

1997 words

Since moving into the House of Lamination and getting to know the brothers, it was obvious that Lucifer was the main caregiver in the house. His approach was more business than affectionate, but that’s okay; that’s where I come in. In the beginning, I would try to help Lucifer directly by helping him with his paperwork or running errands for him. I quickly realized that keeping his brothers out of trouble or solving the problem before it got to him helped him far more than organizing his filing cabinets.

The new chain of authority quickly became accepted within the House of Lamination. Mammon had me on speed dial, so my D.D.D. was constantly ringing off the hook. The other brothers were nice about it though. It gave them a chance to open up about more problems without worrying about the stress and reaction it would cause.

The House of Lamination, and in turn the RAD campus, changed overnight. The student council’s relationship had drastically improved, and anyone could see it. Other demons began to come to me with their problems. I made a drop box where anyone could write their problems or thoughts and submit them. Lucifer bequeathed me a bulletin board where I could answer some of the simpler questions, but I had a column in the school newspaper where I wrote about other, more complex problems. My peers began to say I was an angel with a demon’s perspective. The blessing, or curse, of being a human, I guess

***

Everything was working out for Lucifer. With your help, he had so much more time to complete his tasks but also give himself the basic care he needed. The house was clean. His brothers didn’t run to him with their every problem. School was becoming the campus Diavolo imagined it to be. What could go wrong? Well, a lot could go wrong actually. Very easily. He just had to keep his watchful eye and stop it before it went too far.

***

A few months into my new councilor position, I began to feel the effects of my work. The world around me was on the up and up, but I was so tired. I was so exhausted, physically and mentally. It took hours to come up with some of these responses, and I was so focused on other’s needs that I began to neglect my own. Usually I went home to my room to work on my responses in private, but today, for some reason, I decided to stay in the student council room. Other members came in and out working on their own projects, exchanging pleasantries, but eventually, all became quiet. It was just me and my melted down iced coffee.

I watched the condensation run down the side of my cup as I thought of a good way to respond to this problem. How does one properly discuss their boundaries with the ones they love? I had plenty of answers, but I couldn’t think of one that I had actually used.

“MC? You’re still here. We were looking all over for you.” Lucifer.

“Oh. Uh- sorry Lucifer. I guess I just got so caught up in writing that I lost track of time I guess.” He walked over and peered over my shoulder at the paper before me. We sat there in silence for a moment before he spoke.

“So, how would you solve that problem?”

How would I solve speaking about boundaries? That's a great question, Lucifer. I’ve only been thinking about that for the last two hours.

“I’m not sure. I always try to put myself in the demon’s shoes, but it just isn’t working this time. I have plenty of hypotheticals but nothing I can solidly say would help.”

He hums in reaction and walks around the table to take his seat. Across from me, his red eyes peer into mine. We stare at each other for moments before I look back down at my paper. I can still feel his eyes locked onto me. I can’t imagine what’s going through his head. Is he trying to solve the problem? Is he thinking about replacing me? Am I becoming another problem to him?

“What if I told you I submitted that problem?”

What. Lucifer...submitting a problem...to me? I didn’t think he’d have problems with the brothers occupied. Sure, I would have to drag Mammon into his office when the problem was bigger than I was, and sometimes I would give him some insight onto the student’s thoughts. But Lucifer didn’t have any real problems. He was the Morningstar. He can do basically anything that he wants.

“Well, um- I...I guess I would ask for more context since you’re here.”

“I only wrote that. How would you answer that?”

So...so...ugh.

“I guess I would try to go to a private place with them. Make sure it’s the right time to bring it up. I wouldn’t want them to already be in a bad mood or be taken by something else. I would try to be comfortable with them. Not come off as aggressive or manipulative. Oh idk.”

I sigh and place my head between my hands. “Usually I set boundaries in the moment. It’s just a ‘I didn’t like that and would appreciate it if you didn’t do that again,’ but this leaves so many possibilities.”

I carry on with my thoughts in my head before Lucifer interrupts. “Carry on with what you were saying before.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to beat around the bush, but I wouldn’t want to be harsh. It’s a fine line to walk. Simple sentences. ‘I don’t appreciate this’ or ‘It makes me upset when you do this’ then I would follow it up with ‘I would be grateful if you were to refrain from that behavior’ or something similar. Just straight to the point but not pointing fingers at them. Don’t condemn them. Either they would agree or deny to change. If they agree, I would thank them for understanding and change the subject. If they deny, I would really set the boundary. I would tell them that I won’t be around someone who does that and would separate until they change or we meet a compromise or it could just be over. Sometimes it isn’t that easy. There’s more conversation where a compromise is made.”

“But what if they ask why?”

“I would explain. ‘I don’t like the way it makes me feel’ or ‘I don’t want to see you, someone else be hurt.’ Honesty is key. I wouldn’t see it as a defiance, but a way to understand you better.”

Lucifer reaches across the table and takes my hands. “It makes me upset when you exhaust yourself and neglect yourself because of your tasks. I would appreciate it if you let me take care of things again, so you can take care of yourself again.”

I shoot out of my seat, ripping my hands from his. “That is not an option, Lucifer. I’m helping and mending relationships; not only between humans and demons but demons and demons. I also can’t leave you to handle everything again. I set the boundary of me between you and the Devildom. I don’t appreciate it when you neglect your own problems for others!”

He sighs and pinches his brow. “Doll, I’ve done this for centuries now. You’ve given me a great vacation. The best one I’ve ever had, but it’s time for me to take back over now. I can’t let you run yourself into the ground and say I’m doing my job of watching over you.”

I press my hands into the table. “I will not let you handle everyone’s problems again. I refuse. I’m helping you by carrying some of the weight.” We sit in silence staring at each other before I speak again. “Is this because of your pride? I promise you that no one sees me as better than you. We’re not even in the same league. You do much greater things than I do. I’m just a post-it note therapist. I’m just a sounding board for my peers. You help run, not only a school, but an entire kingdom just because you’re friends with the crown prince. You deserve more, and you know i-”

“That’s enough!” He flew out of his seat and slammed his palms on the table. We were face to face; our breath running across the other’s face. “You will not carry on with your little crisis hotline if you’re going to neglect yourself.”

“I won’t give you an ounce of this weight back if you are going to neglect yourself.”

“I forbid it!”

“You might think you have some chokehold on me like you do your brothers, but you’re not stopping me from doing what I want. I’m solving problems; not causing them!”

“You are causing problems! Problems with me! You aren’t taking care of yourself!”

“Well you weren’t either when they were your problems!”

“I’m allowed to do that!”

“Like hell you are. I care too much to see you passed out in your office or turning to the bottle! As long as I can do something, I will!”

I could stare into his eyes to see the storm brewing within. He wants to say more, but his pride is holding him back. He wants it his way, but I won’t allow it. I can’t. What will he do? Will he run to Diavolo for some special permission to get me to stop? Will he tear down my board? Remove me from the school newspaper?

“I care about you too. More than I let on.” The energy in the room immediately shifts. No longer is it an argument; but a conversation. “Just as it hurt you to see me in pain, it hurts me. I cannot let you carry on this way”

My mind goes into autopilot. I take a step closer to him. My arms find their way around his torso. His circle me. I bring my head to his neck. We stand there for a few minutes, thinking of responses, enjoying the other’s care.

“So you know why I can’t give it all back to you?”

He gives me a squeeze. “Yes.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Well, what a pickle we’re in.” He laughs.

As we stand there, clinging to each other, we think. We both know it can’t carry on like this. I breathe him in. My mind eases.

“You could find some of your other friends to help. Maybe give them some sample questions to solve or just someone to help you write.” I nod into his neck.

“I can still help with your brothers. Maybe we could learn from this and set some boundaries with them.” He nods. “That sounds wonderful.”

I pull myself back just enough to look up at his face. “I’ll give you my word to take care of myself. To step back when I need it, whether it’s me who decides or you, and vice versa with you.”

“I give you my word.” “And I give you mine.”

All tension is gone from the room. We smile at each other, relishing in the fact that neither of us will be hurting anymore. “May I kiss you?” “Yes.”

His lips fall down to mine. They’re soft against mine. They move with the same grace as he does, but they’re confident. He pulls me flush against his body. The kiss maybe lasted a minute or two, but I felt like it lasted a lifetime. We moved in complete agreement. Where he ended, I began. Where I ended, he began. It was like we became one heart.

I had to pull away to fill my lungs. “Well, it didn’t go like I said, but I hope I helped you with your problem.

Lucifer’s head fell back with laughter. Not a brief chuckle but real, full belly laughter. “I’d say it did. Thank you, doll.”

P.s. I fully believe Satan heard the argument and seeing MC coming out the student council room and he was fully like "how did they not die?"

[veliseraptor]

So this is in NO WAY PRESSURING, get to this whenever you're bored and have nothing better to do, but I (have still not watched The Untamed) would love to hear any disorganized rambles around your fic 'Punitive Measures', like your thoughts while writing it, how you view Xue Yang's fight/flight/freeze instinct, and/or where you would take the plot if you ever came back to it (again, not pressuring, I'm not asking for a sequel, I'm asking for director's commentary. Also I know the mysterious flute was implying Wei Wuxian, I know that much and not much more.) It's a really fun, quick fic that I enjoy reading through while I keep circling around your longer, more intimidating stories. I aspire to write like you.

oh boy, well, I don't know that I ever have nothing to do but here I am answering this ask anyway, because I like talking about my fic even if I get self-conscious about it.

this entire fic falls solidly into the genre of fic I write that is legitimately just “I’m gonna fuck up this character I love because it’ll be fun and I love to do that” and then just kinda...went for it. actually harder than I was initially planning! my vague sense of what I was going to do with this fic didn’t have Xue Yang down an eye at the end of it.

but when inspiration strikes, what’s a girl to do, etc.

I actually thought recently about writing a sequel to this fic (or, well, continuing into the AU it started, more like) because the concept of Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang being bloodthirsty vengeance brethren is a very good one for me, personally, and at the point their paths would be intersecting in this AU a more plausible one than it would be at pretty much any other time (I would argue, at least in CQLverse). And that’s where I think this would be going. Because Xue Yang would see Wei Wuxian, in his bloodiest frame of mind, powered up with a gorgeous flute of bad vibes and go “fuck yes” even if he wasn’t in a place where he really needed the help.

The question I had was whether Wei Wuxian would be interested in accepting company, and I feel like Xue Yang on that front could be convincing. And the way that the latter would both enable and egg on all the former’s darkest fantasies and impulses...I’m just saying, Wen Chao and everyone he has ever known is in for a very bad time, possibly even worse than they already were.

I invite you to picture in this AU the part where Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji find not just darker and edgier Wei Wuxian at the end of their scavenger hunt but darker and edgier Wei Wuxian with a friend. A familiar friend! Now down an eye and practically picking his teeth with Wen Chao’s finger bones. :D

since you asked for disorganized rambling I went back to reread and I’ll give you some director’s commentary on a few things

And he’d kind of hoped Wen Ruohan would be too busy figuring out how to deal with his brewing war to dedicate much attention to looking for one absent retainer. And even if he did, Xue Yang had sort of figured that finding him would fall to Wen Chao, who’d probably struggle to find his own ass with two hands.

kicking off this director’s commentary with Xue Yang’s brutal assessment of the competency of Wen Chao.

tbh one of my favorite things about CQL’s involving Xue Yang in the whole Sunshot storyline, despite the merry hell it plays with timeline stuff later, is how obviously little regard Xue Yang has for the Wens, even when they’re at the height of their power. He shows Wen Ruohan himself very little respect, and I can’t imagine anyone else getting more (except maybe Wen Qing, because Wen Qing is competent and if nothing else Xue Yang can respect competency).

and he just like. ditches them. walks out! promises to deliver very powerful magical artifact, and then gets what he wants and is like “smell ya later, peace” and they never catch him.

that’s just a kind of gutsiness and casual disregard for very powerful people that I really both love and respect about Xue Yang. and also that he has in common with Xiao Xingchen, tbh. and Song Lan (though him I think to a slightly lesser degree, partly because he has a little more tact and sense of societal norms as something relevant to be thinking about)! they can all vibe on that.

They took Jiangzai. Well. One of the Wen disciples took Jiangzai in the stomach and Xue Yang didn’t get it back.

this isn’t an important line or anything. I just like it a lot.

Wen Chao gestured again and he went down in a hail of fists and feet. Xue Yang tucked his chin down to protect his throat, curled his hands into his chest, and drew up his knees to guard his stomach.

He knew how this worked. Sure, it’d been a while since someone had beat him like this, but the lessons stuck. It was almost boring, really. If Wen Chao was going to play torture games then he could at least do Xue Yang the favor of trying to be creative.

He checked out the part of his brain that registered pain as anything other than a thing that was happening and focused instead on opportunities. Weaknesses in his assailants. Escape routes. Getting away would be the first thing. Nice if he could take a piece of Wen Chao with him on the way out - arm, or maybe even a head - but the priority was freedom and survival.

okay, this I feel like cuts into some of what you were talking about regarding Xue Yang’s fight/flight instinct, and also a lot of what if, I was feeling pretentious, I feel like this fic is digging into on a level under “what if I just tortured Xue Yang a whole bunch,” which is something about the relationship Xue Yang has to (a) pain and (b) his own body. Specifically, the relative indifference he has toward both. Or...not indifference, exactly, because it’s not like he’s enjoying himself, it still hurts. It’s just...expected.

unremarkable.

which is a lot of what I was trying to convey with Xue Yang’s narration during the whole torture sequence, with the commentary on methodology and how things are mundane or boring, because the suffering itself is mundane! as far as Xue Yang is concerned that’s exactly what suffering is! other peoples’, for sure, which is part of why it doesn’t matter, but also his own.

the world hurts and that’s just how it is and you learn how to cope with that. pain as...a thing that [is] happening.

I also, since you mentioned the fight/flight instinct, think a lot about how Xue Yang is, while he’s very proud and very stubborn, absolutely not someone to pick fights (in general) that he knows he can’t win. Xue Yang will almost always be on the side of “run and come back another day” over “stand and fight when all is lost.” survival, first and foremost.

which feeds into the weird paradox that I kind of hint toward at the end of this fic about Xue Yang as someone who has a definite death drive, who is profoundly obsessed with his own death in a lot of ways, and simultaneously is attached to staying alive above pretty much all else.

“Snap and snarl all you want,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere. And the only part of you I need intact is your tongue, so you can tell me where you hid the Yin Metal you promised. Everything else is optional.”

A prickle of fear rolled down Xue Yang’s spine and he flicked it away, baring his teeth.

I actually do think that, even before they get around to hand-specific trauma, permanent mutilation is one of those things that still scares Xue Yang. which is a short list! there isn’t much that actually either gets to or scares him, but I think the prospect of (further) mutilation does, because I think Xue Yang is very...acutely aware of the fact that his physical capability is a major factor in what has kept him alive and what, in all likelihood, is going to keep him alive moving forward. anything that threatens that capability, that limits him in terms of strength or mobility or otherwise has a disabling effect, is consequently going to be a short road to death, and Xue Yang would much rather die painfully fighting than die as a consequence of not being able to take care of himself.

for Xue Yang, the idea of a return to the kind of helplessness that is tied to his trauma is one of the worst possible prospects to contemplate. in my head this is exacerbated further by the fact that I figure Xue Yang didn’t get much if any medical care post hand incident, meaning that the recovery period was absolutely nightmarish and a whole stretch of time beyond the event itself where Xue Yang was struggling to survive because he’d been damaged.

in some ways I think that period of time probably did more to shape Xue Yang than the moment itself.

Wen Chao grabbed one of the branding irons from a disciple’s belt and pressed it to his stomach. That hurt. More. He clamped his back teeth together so he didn’t make any sound, absorbed the burn, owned it. His. You only hurt if you were alive. And anything you survived made you stronger.

Not that this was actually going to make him stronger. It was probably just going to make him dead. But then again, the worse this went the more resentment he’d have built up. He could use that. Would.

Dead didn’t have to mean finished.

obviously this is pulled almost direct from what Wei Wuxian himself says to Wen Chao. deliberate echoes based on character parallels! we love those.

and yeah, again here about Xue Yang and his relationship to pain, but in a less mundane way this time where it’s about pain as a tool, pain as something he can use. which is another thing about coping, I think - when pain and suffering are a regular part of your life, one way to deal with that can be to convert it into having some kind of purpose or benefit.

which in this case it definitely can. Xue Yang is definitely someone who, I think, has thought a lot about trying to arrange it so he becomes a ghost after he dies. or at least has thought a lot about what he’d do after dying to the person who killed him. 

and when you’re a necromancer by trade death really isn’t the end of the line anymore, just the start of a something new. Xue Yang’s relationship to life itself: about as jacked up as his relationships in general.

He felt the snap of bone in his teeth. Pain shooting up the side of his hand, all the way to his wrist, and Xue Yang couldn’t keep himself still enough not to try to wrench himself away. He swallowed his scream and turned it into a laugh. It was funny, wasn’t it? Funny, that he was back here, again. It wasn’t as bad, though. He knew how to take pain, how to breathe it in, make it part of himself, later turn it outwards magnified tenfold. They were old friends. Practically lovers. 

two things here:

1. the thread throughout this fic of Xue Yang making things funny so he can deal with them, here brought to you by reliving trauma! because it’s funny! right? laugh about it! just fucking hilarious.

I have a thing about characters basically deciding for themselves to make very unfunny situations funny because it makes them less awful.

2. and look, now he can deal with it better this time! he’s Learned. :) :) :)

Everything splintered. Splintered like bones under a wheel, and first thing he tried to struggle to get away but that just hurt worse and then old old old instincts kicked in and he went still, limp, dead.

“Did he faint?”

Someone nudged him with their foot. One part of him roared to grab that foot and rip it off along with the leg it was attached to. Immediately the same thing that’d made him play dead told him to wait.

at an end point where fighting is impossible and running is also impossible, the only thing left to do is play dead and wait it out. this is very much, in my head, a reversion to a tactic Xue Yang hasn’t used in a very long time and does not want to be using now, because it is absolutely the recourse of the extraordinarily helpless with no way out.

which he has been! and is now, but he really really really doesn’t want to be. Xue Yang has built his life around not being that, ever again.

but here it’s not a move he makes planning to turn it around the way he does, not at first. he gets there, but when he first does it I think it is literally just instinct that goes enough is enough and shuts down.

Wen Chao, Wen Chao, Xue Yang thought. My body’s going to give out before I do.

someone should remind me at some point maybe (or not) to write something coherent about my Xue Yang vs. his own body thoughts. specifically the way that, while Xue Yang is very physical and very grounded, I think he has a somewhat antagonistic relationship with his own body, actually. not completely! he definitely respects what it can do for him! but I think he also treats it a little as a slightly separate entity that’s capable of betraying him rather than as a fully integrated part of himself.

not always! but it’s a little bit there. this idea that sometimes his body, and its capacity to be hurt or damaged, is a weakness that he’d like to be able to forgo entirely, if only it wouldn’t mean losing all the good things about having a body. and that’s present here in this line, for me, where he thinks about himself and his body as slightly separate, and his body as something weaker than its Xue Yang core.

[utilitycaster]

what moment are you talking about? I must have missed it

Hi anon,

I’m referring to Caduceus’s response to Caleb showing them the rooms, around 2:16:00-ish in Twitch VOD and how he doesn’t think Caleb is using them correctly.

I’m about to talk a lot below as I am wont to do because the mood here is pretty much always Time for My Opinion but in short, Caduceus, while insightful, often has very specific ideas of the correct way to deal with problems, and often they’re understandable from his own experiences, upbringing, and philosophy, but they’re not actually good for the person he’s talking to, and also he has a dangerous combination of insight and a disinclination towards probing further, even when that would be beneficial (such as here; I’m no expert on trauma but I am generally aware that most modern therapies involve some degree of exposure to elements of said trauma, in that it’s difficult to truly avoid everything that might potentially be a trigger and so it’s crucial to develop lifelong healthy coping mechanisms and ways to process. We also know as viewers, though Caduceus doesn’t necessarily, that Caleb’s original goal was to undo the past; having a safe place he controls to just exist in past settings and think of both the good and bad seems positive to me).

So this seemed particularly egregious - telling someone who you know is traumatized that they’re doing it wrong without getting the full picture - but it’s not a new pattern of behavior. I think, however, it might be the first time the whole party saw it and the first time it’s been turned full force on Caleb, which is why I wonder what will happen there.

(here ends the initial answer; below is a long and slightly low-on-sleep ramble about this being an ongoing theme with Caduceus).

Okay so Caduceus would in fact make a terrible therapist and not even because he answers a lot of questions in vague portentous analogies (I love me a vague portentous analogy), or because cast references to Freud aside this is a world that doesn’t have the same language about mental illness and trauma.

When Caduceus gets it right he really gets it right, but he’s gotten it really wrong with some frequency. He is a man of limited and specific experiences and often carries over those experiences into areas where they no longer apply. I should note: I love this as a character choice. It’s one Taliesin has arguably made with all of his major characters, in some form. I think it stands out for Caduceus so much specifically because he is mechanically very wise and incredibly insightful and because he has such limited experience, and because his limited experience includes a lot of advice-giving and ministering but under highly specific circumstances that no longer are his entire world.

Insight is about knowing what a person intends or is feeling, but it does not equal knowing what to say to them. Insight doesn’t erase the very human or I guess in this case sentient being tendency to overlay one’s own biases. In fact, being very insightful can worsen that, since someone who isn’t good at reading people but is aware of that fact will stop and listen to the person they’re talking to instead of relying on the insight over the literal words someone is saying (insert my philosophy here; yeah people lie and deflect, but also there is a reason they are lying and deflecting and often playing along while taking precautions to care for them in a way they will receive it is more effective than ignoring them). When I say Fjord, Yasha, and to an extent Veth are often the best listeners in the party I’m not joking: all of them have mediocre wisdom at best, but that means they tend to ask questions and keep a relatively open mind. I don’t think that most of the Nein really get what Caleb’s doing with these rooms, and that’s fine! But I think most of the others at least realized that they don’t have the full picture, or that this wasn’t the time to bring it up.

Ultimately, Caduceus has experience with three broad groups of people: the recently bereft (which has some applications towards people currently in crisis), run-of-the-mill criminals, and family. When experiences can’t be extrapolated from those groups, he often struggles. We saw this with Trent; I said at the time and I still strongly maintain that his speech probably did little or nothing to Trent. Trent probably went to bed that night thinking “Ha! That bumpkin firbolg called me, a high-level wizard, a fool!” and forgot it by morning. Which doesn’t make the speech useless; I think even if it didn’t land the mere act of someone being wholly unimpressed by Trent is extremely valuable for Astrid and Eodwulf - and Caleb, for that matter - to see. But I don’t think it was a mic drop moment.

Caduceus has rigid ideas of the correct way to be, and it’s not a bad ideal but it’s a narrow one. He tends to value family and respect and responsibility, and he has an eye on the big picture and consequences in a way many people do not, and those are great. Within his scope of experience he’s often good - Gustav and The Gentleman, for example, are both solidly in the “Shady Creek Run types” category and Caduceus was able to speak with them very effectively. But outside of that and not only does he not get it, but he often is unwilling to hear it because he already has what he believes to be the right answer.

In a way, Caduceus is often good at telling people they are enough and that they will be okay and get through this, which is exactly what most mourners need to hear, but sometimes you need to hear “I don’t get what you’re doing but I’m here if you need me,” and sometimes you even need to hear “that was fucking stupid but I still love you” (note: Caleb falls into the former in this scenario). He’s got a good strategy for the life he lived for upwards of 80 years but he needs to change if he’s going to continue to be a person who is good at advising, and he really struggles with that! As said, it’s a great character choice even as I’m screaming “pretty sure this is the wrong way to deal with someone’s trauma!” because it’s so indicative of what Caduceus himself is going through.

I’m not asking for a judgement-free zone - lord knows anywhere I exist will not be one - but like, in a nod to a whole other tangent about religion I cut out because this is ridiculously long already, Caduceus could stand to internalize “who is wise? One who learns from everyone.” Or even just “know what you don’t know.” 

[vagrantblvrd]

modern au wth biker luke meet the parents

Friend, you brain-thoughts, I like them. <3!

(Modern AU idea.)

Let’s say this takes place sometime after Luke’s old biker gang comes to town, at least a couple of months afterwards to allow Din to recover from the shenanigans.

I mean, he likes Luke’s friends just fine, they’re all good people and he definitely appreciates the fact they were there for Luke and his family when he needed them to be, but...they can be a lot.

So.

A few months down the road and things are pretty much back to normal for Din’s odd little family, right?

He and Luke attempt to do Real Dates but the universe at large tends to conspire against them in the form of shenanigans like car trouble or that time the the water main broke and Din got roped into helping fix it and other assorted reasons.

Which, honestly, fine with both of them.

Neither of them are all that big on stuff like that, and are just as happy with staying in with takeout and watching a over with Grogu.

(Or, you know, Cara or one of their friends taking Grogu for the night so they can have Alone Time, although half the time that just means one or both of them ends up a snoring, drooling mess before the credits roll on the movie they’re watching, but that’s fine too, because sleep? But also morning frisky times and the whatnot, or just being sappy saps who are totes married who send the morning in bed smooching and making fun of their bed hair and dumb faces and anyway, they do just fine, you know?)

Once in a while, though, the planets align or some BS and they get to go on a Real Date.

Tends to result in one or both of them being !!! and ??? because it’s been a while since they’ve been on one of those or they overthink the whole thing like they aren’t sickeningly gone over one another and more or less married already, but still!

Must make an effort to show how much they love and cherish the other and want them to feel special and such. (Also, their friends/family have had Meetings about this stuff, insist they have at least one (1) Real Date every six (6) months so they can see how normal human beings socialize.

ANYWAY.

Their anniversary is coming up and everyone insists Din and Luke have one of those Real Dates, right?

There are actual strategy meetings to make sure every possible complication/disaster is accounted for, their friends are going to make sure this thing happens or so help them!!1!

Din is honestly a little terrified of telling them it’s not that serious a matter, and Luke thinks the whole thing’s hilarious. (Gets this wistful look on his face when he gets a glimpse of the war room Din’s friends set up in the back room of Boba’s bike shop and makes yet another vague reference about that time his family was at the heart of a vast conspiracy that spanned decades and effects are felt even now, and yeah.

Din gets sent all over the city to Prepare for Real Date.

According to his friends and loved ones he needs a new haircut, and a new suit - which, fair, the last one was from a job and kind of technically stolen because that time he had to go undercover and there was a suit..shop..and anyway, he apologized, but that’s neither here nor there.

SO.

Din’s all over the place on errands his friends and loved ones assigned to him and it’s less trouble to go along with all this than trying to reason with them.

(And honestly, he’s kind of looking forward to it in a weird way?)

Anyhow.

He’s just leaving the final fitting for his suit - all shy and embarrassed because Cara and Fennec went with him to decide on what he/they wanted for him that first time. They’d both given him the softest smiles when he settled on one he liked, fabric and color and all that, approved and told him he cleaned up nice and anyway, he kind of likes the thought of doing that for Luke, okay. It’s...nice.)

Thing is, though.

He’s had the weirdest feeling the last few days, week, maybe. Like. It’s weird but he the thing where he used to work as a bounty hunter with/for Boba and he learned to trust his instincts, so he’s not completely caught off guard when he gets cornered in the parking garage after his last fitting.

A couple of guys he doesn’t recognize, lean guy in all black and a long coat. Long-ish hair and a scar over one eye. Black gloves - something about that sticks in his head, niggling little thought, something familiar.

The other one’s broader built, a little shorter. Din’s mind categorizes him as the muscle. Wearing a dark jacket, baseball cap pulled down to hide his eyes but there’s something familiar about him too, knocking around in Din’s head.

Definitely a threat, but it’s the first guy Din knows he doesn’t want to turn his back on.

Just this aura of threat, and dangerous, and don’t look away from him in Din’s head and for the first time in a long time he wishes he still carried a gun.

Not that he’s helpless by any means, knows hand-to-hand and all that, martial arts and boxed when he was a kid. Also, you know. That collapsible baton that strictly speaking he shouldn’t have, but knowing Boba means exceptions get made, and it’s one he’s never felt all that guilty about. Especially in situations like this one.

Din hasn’t gone for it because for all the bad vibes these guys are giving him they haven’t done anything yet and he’d rather not be the one to start something.

(Paperwork, you know. Also, his date with Luke.)

Oh, they’re between him and his minivan, acting like a couple of tough guys with the posturing but it’s not just that.

Din knows the difference between idiots who watch too many action movies and think they’re worth anything in a fight and the real thing and these two aren’t the useless kind.

So far all they’ve done is stand intimidatingly, which is strange as hell, but fits with the rest of Din’s life, and anyway.

Just as Din’s starting to wonder if this is going to end in a fight, like, really actually, he hears a bike. Aggressively. Getting closer. Aggressively.

Nothing weird about it because they’re in a city and people drive bikes, and hey. Parking garage where people sometimes park their bikes while going about their business elsewhere and really, he tells himself, it’s just some random person who rides a bike.

REALLY.

Only thing is.

It sounds familiar?

Like.

Really, unfortunately familiar in that he swears he’s worked on it himself a time or two. Become unbearably fond of it’s owner, and please, please, please don’t let it be Luke.

So, you know, of course it’s Luke.

Comes roaring into the parking garage, Din sighing and like oh, goddammit, as he and his two new BFFs listen to Luke approaching.

Bike going vroom vroom and tires squealing as he makes it up every level of the parking garage to where Din and his BFFs are.

And it’s like, there’s part of him worried Luke’s going to crash, but the rest of him knows Luke’s a good driver, knows he knows every little quirk of his bike and how it handles and when Wedge and the others were visiting he got to see Luke show off just how good he is.

(It had been utterly terrifying because potential for death and whatnot? But als super hot, so. You can see how Din is conflicted there.)

Anyway, Din is standing there listening to the love of his life vroom vroom up several levels of the parking garage to, like, rescue him or whatever, and the guys who cornered him are sharing this look like why are we even surprised by this and shrug at each other going from top tier threats looking Very Tired all of a sudden that’s kind of confusing, and entirely relatable.

FINALLY they see Luke coming up the ramp and he’s headed right for them, does that totally rad thing where he swings the back of the bike around as he screeches to a stop, solidly between Din and the other two.

Dramatic as hell, but to be fair Din had been warned about that, something about it running in the family and anyway.

Luke himself warned Din. Obi-Wan warned Din, as well as sharing stories of the stuff he and Luke’s dad got up Before while they worked for the same agency. Cody warned Din, shooting a loot at Obi-Wan and dropping his voice so the other man wouldn’t overhear “Don’t let him fool you, Anakin learned most of that from him,” but there was fondness under the scowl aimed at Obi-Wan’s back that Din understood because, well, Luke.

Everyone in Luke’s life Din’s met told him about the Drama that runs in the Skywalker family, so this?

Yeah.

“Luke,” Din says, because the other two are definitely armed, and love of his life who helped expose a massive conspiracy theory and all, but also maybe not the brightest idea to do this right now. Or ever, really. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Luke being Luke, he ignores Din.

Reaches up to pull his helmet off, and Din notices he’s not wearing the glove on his right hand, or the synthetic skin over the prosthetic, like he was in a hurry, didn’t take the time to “pretty it up” for other people the way he puts it, vague shrug strange smile on his face, like there was something more important on his mind. 

(Din never got the full story about it, just knows it’s tied to whatever happened to his family and the everything that turned Luke’s life upside down, ended up with him in Din and Grogu’s life.)

Luke sets his helmet down in front of him, and gives Din a quic once-over, checking to see if he’s okay before he lets out a sigh. Flashes Din a smile, relief, something that’s simply happy to see him, and a bit like an apology.

Looks like he’s about to say something, but then the lean figure in black takes a step towards them and the smile drops off Luke’s face and his head snaps around to the other two.

The figure in black stops, goes still.

Din stares because he’s never seen Luke look like that in the time he’s known him.

(Remember a night out with Luke, Obi-Wan, and Cody, Luke laughing about double dates and Obi-Wan’s exasperated smile as they watched Luke and Cody in the middle of a game of pool when a pair of drunk idiots wandered over and tried to pick a fight.

A comment they had been far to overhear but easy enough to figure out with the ugly sneer tossed toward the table Din and Obi-Wan were seated at, something that wiped the tolerant smile off Luke’s face, had him pushing past Cody who was trying to de-escalate the situation, and saying something that made the drunkard go white. Scared shitless as he dragged his friend away.

Din had looked at Obi-Wan who just sighed, faint smile on his face as he shook his head.

And Din, Din had said he’d ever seen Luke angry before -

“Angry?” Obi-Wan had said, amused? “Well I suppose you wouldn’t have.”

He’d taken a drink, and leaned towards Din like he was sharing a secret, just between the two of them, and laughed. “You still haven’t, by the way, in case you were wondering. Trust me, you’ll know when you see it.”

There’d been something else too, about Luke taking after his father that way, weight of history Din wasn’t privy to behind it and a fond exasperation Din knew well.)

“Hey, Dad,” Luke says.

He sounds.

Well, the thing is, Luke doesn’t sound angry.

Or, not just angry.

He sounds careful, controlled. Tense. Like he’s a lot of things at the moment, and the wrong word, moved, from his dad - Luke’s dad - will be the deciding factor.

The figure in all black - Luke’s dad? - sighs. Rubs the back of his neck with a hand, shares a look with the man next to him who shrugs.

“Luke,” he says, sounding...sheepish, caught out. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Din winces on his behalf, feels an odd sort of kinship with the other man who snorts, mutters something like not a great idea.

Luke nods, sounds like oh, no, yeah, I totally understand that.

“I know,” he says. “Good thing mom called to tell me you were coming for a visit.”

Luke’s dad winces. “Oh she did, did she?”

It goes on like that for a bit before Anakin apologizes for pulling this nonsense, approaching Din in a parking garage like something from a spy movie -

“Well, I mean,” Luke says later, once things aren’t quite so bizarre. “He is a spy, so. You know.”

They all head to Obi-Wan’s center where they can “talk” because Luke was supposed to go there to help with administrative stuff or whatever before Padme called, and anyway, surely Anakin and Rex wouldn’t mind?

Obi-Wan takes one look at all of them, the way Luke makes sure to be between Din and the others at all times and pins Anakin with a look.

“Oh, Anakin,” he says, amused and dismayed. “What did you do?”

Din misses a lot of what’s said, things going over his head because Luke and unresolved issues and his dad’s earlier antics, and anyway, anyway.

Din gets a call and goes outside to take it, waves off Luke’s worried look because he’s not done reading his dad the riot act about not being a complete menace about Luke’s life, dad, c’mon.

But the thing is, the call’s not a number he knows, he just needed to get out of there for a moment.

Imagine his surprise, suspicion when he hears, “I hope my idiot of a husband didn’t make too bad of a first impression.”

Because it’s Luke’s mom, and he’s definitely not going to think about how she got his number after the everything with Luke’s dad, and just.

They have a conversation, one that’s actually nice. She asks after Luke, if he’s taking care of himself, if Din is helping in that regard. Asks how Din’s doing, how his adorable son of his is, and Din knows okay. Knows Luke’s sent her pictures of Din and Grogu, the three of them, when he talks to her, but it’s still a surprise how much he talks about them to her?

When he says that, just a random comment he didn’t mean to say there’s a moment of silence and then she laughs. Tells him her son is head over heels for Din, that she’s never seen him like this with anyone, and he adores Grogu, and just.

It’s a lot to take in, hear someone else say, and she must know it because she’s so gentle the rest of their coversation, laughs again as she asks him not to think too badly about Anakin, and he tells her he’ll try, because wow, what a first impression to make,you know?

Just as they end the call the door behind him opens and Din looks up to see Anakin.

He looks...awkward. Embarrassed? Something.

Din watches as Anakin goes over to Luke’s bike, remembers Luke telling him it used to be his dad’s.

Watches the complicated mess of emotions that wash over Anakin’s face as he looks at the bike, runs a hand along the side of the gas tank Luke repainted when he joined that biker gang of his.

Anakin sighs, shoulders slumping and when he looks at Din he doesn’t look like the intimidating figure in the parking garage, like threat and danger and the smart ones run.

He looks. Tired. Worried. Older than he should be, but with what he knows about Luke’s family Din’s pretty sure he knows the reason for that. For what h thought he was doing in the parking garage, maybe, Din’s still on the fence about that.

He understands why Anakin did that, just. Like Luke says, Complicated.

The important thing is that Anakin apologizes to Din. Tells him he’s maybe kind of an idiot - Din is like OH??? - and the Thing with his family that is definitely his fault, but he is trying to work things out with them and he’s just.

A touch overprotective as a result of the everything, so.

He just.

Worries.

Din is like, no, no, he gets it? But maybe try not to look like you’re going to murder your son’s boyfriend in a parking garage maybe? (Assuming Din survives the Skywalker family.)

Some awkwardness and then Anakin’s like, “I didn’t think he’d keep it,” about the bike, because Issues.

And Din is like, well, okay, and tells him what Luke told him about it. About Padme giving Luke the bike and that summer he spent restoring it, about his friends -

“Yeah,” Anakin says, and laughs. “Never expetd him to join a biker gang.”

The thing is he doesn’t sound surprised by that, or even a little worried. Probably used to hiding bodies, or he’s just met Luke’s friends and knows there isn’t anything to worry about there.

Anakin tells Din about how he got the bike, stories when he was a dumb kid and asks if Luke ever managed to get this things with the bike fixed.

Tells Anakin no, it still acts up and is the reason Din and Luke met when the bike broke down that first time, and to his surprise Anakin actually laughs.

“That’s...huh. Padme and I met under similar circumstances.”

Which, weird?

But Anakin’s looking at Din with this tentative little smile, and Din is like, well, he doesn’t know what just that he understands being protective of his people.

So they talk about the bike, and Din tells him about meeting Luke - leaves out the awkward flirting bits but he can tell from the looks Anakin gives him he fills i the details himself.

And then!

At some point Anakin pulls out a little multi-tool because you can’t aways cart a toolbox around with you Din is like, just wonders if Anakin knows Luke carries one for the same reason Well, that and the fact his prosthetic hand can be temperamental and such.

“Well this is definitely better than what I thought I’d find,” Luke says, surprising the two of them who have kind of taken the bike’s engine a little somewhere along the way?

Anakin and Din trying to pinpoint what’s wrong with the bike even though no one has for years by this point, and it’s like uh, ooops?

Because it’s Luke’s bike now and they didn’t mean to, but Luke is just. Amused, fond. Goes over to them and asks if they found the problem yet and when they say no clearly they must continue, and anyway.

Obi-Wan comes out after an hour, maybe two and looks at the three of them with raised eyebrows.

Tells Anakin that Padme’s flight just landed and Cody and Rex left to pick her up from the airport - which.

Huh, that explains where they went. The three of them notices, waved and all but were caught up in figuring out the bike Issue and didn’t give it much thought,

Also, Luke and Din are going to be late for their reservations if they don’t get going and then it’s like.

Anakin all flustered because Padme - knows he’s in trouble with the whole parking garage incident but Padme, and Luke and Din share this look with Obi-Wan because it’s seriously adorable.

Also, though, also.

Luke and Din and a quick conversation off to the side while Anakin goes inside to get cleaned up - smudge of oil or grease on his face, and his hands are filthy and just.

Yes.

And then Luke asks if Obi-Wan and COdy had plans for the night, all casual and such, and Obi-Wan has this little smile on his face.

Because he knows these idiots so well, and tells Luke that no, he doesn’t actually, is there a reason Luke’s asking?

And of course Luke is asking because Luke and Din cancelled their reservations, but there’s a nice restaurant they know that should still have roo for their group if no one object.

Just a nice little family dinner out, and anyway, no pressure?

So of course they do the family dinner thing - Anakin worried because the whole everything from earlier and takes Din and Luke aside and apologizes again, and that they should go have their date and it’s like.

Luke gets this look on his face, all soft and kind of sad and touches his dad on the arm to get him to look at him.

“Just. Don’t do anything like that again, alright?”

That look from the parking garage on his face again for a split second, and Anakin clearly sees it, knows understands.

Looks at Din to see what his feelings are on things and Din just shrugs because while it had been a bit much, he did understand, and anyway.

So.

Din gives Luke a ride home to get ready for the dinner - Luke insisting Din show him the new suit...later, which gets poor Din all flustered while Luke laughs at him, and anyway, anyway.

The go off and have their family dinner, where Din is rightfully in awe of Padme and the way Anakin dotes on her. Gets this soft little feeling in his chest at the easy relationship between her and Luke, and leans over to Obi-Wan at one point like.

“Are Cody and Rex related?” because there’s a definite resemblance between them.

Obi-Wan almost chokes on his wine, and manages to get out something about the two of them being from a big family. Gets this little smile on his face and tells him to ask Boba about it sometime, and anyway.

Padme gets Din alone for a private chat while everyone’s bringing the cars around and getting ready to say their goodnights.

Apologizes for Anakin again and tells Din they both like him very much, and Din while Din is trying to think of something to say about that Anakin pulls up to the curb.

Padme gives Din a mischievous little grin and presses a kiss to his cheek, tells him that what they like most about him is how happy he makes their son, and while he’s all flustered from that gets in the waiting car with Anakin.

Luke comes over, worried little frown on his face and Din is like, so confused?

Luke’s parents are so confusing, and Luke laughing at him about it while he herds Din over to the minivan isn’t helping, and anyway, anway.

For a day that started rather ominously, it ended surprisingly well.

And!

Din even gets a goodnight kiss for his troubles, so you know, good day.

[savrenim]

i am running thru ur tumblr to find ONE POST to cite for tvtropes, and i agree so hard with the soulmate stuff. what if my soulmate is an awful abuser, i want the choice to NOT be with them without some painful physical consequence or loss of perception if i don't date them just because the universe said we were "meant to be"... plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist and less like an ass pull so you could justify getting 2 characters together

oH gods this is something that I have SO many feelings about that probably is slightly informed by my own orientation and preferences, but. feelings. this got long so it's going under the cut

so there are three and a half major things that I have a problem with in terms of general soulmate tropes that are "there is one person who is your perfect romantic partner" (which to be fair I've seen a number of soulmate AUs do that trope with the addendum "although it only applies to a certain percentage of the population / not everyone has soulmates / everyone has soulmates but not everyone has SUPER PERFECT ROMANTIC soulmates" which at least somewhat avoids the statistic inevitability of abusive soulmates if combined with Fate Can See The Future And So Your Fated Soulmate Just Won't Be) and these complaints aren't even from the "I'm poly where's my poly rep" kind of place which is a whole 'nother bag of worms, but let's go:

1. I aggressively believe that love is a choice. Love is something that is built, not predetermined before you meet someone. There might be initial compatibility aspects going down when you first meet someone, but, like. statistically there are more than seven and a half billion people on this planet. If there is only a single person perfectly meant for you, again, statistically, you are not going to meet them, I've seen the figure thrown that on average a person will meet on the order 10,000 people in their lifetime but let's even go 100,000, you will meet 0.001% of the world's population. Unless you think some sort of divine coincidence or fate is guiding you to a soulmate which throws free will out the window and then I can't help you but, like. discarding the math, I think it is actively harmful to a relationship to believe that it can be sustained on chemistry or predetermined 'but we're perfect for each other' alone. It requires work. You choose who is in your life, you choose who stays in your life, you choose who you want to be important to you based on what they contribute to your life and what you contribute to theirs.

(I am assuming this ask is at least partially in reaction to my soulmate post, which actually the fic in question, a buried and a burning flame, has since gone up. I highly recommend reading Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard first, but besides the setup for arson wizards that alas is never used because the fire mage with a soulmate in question is Responsible, I decided to both tackle 'okay soulmarks trope too let's throw it in', which leads to the not-really-a-spoiler passage that appears fairly early on about actually the full layout (albeit with less detail on the 'yeah for mages it just helps ground their magic, nothing romantic about it' part) of my Soulmate Rules:

Soulmates existed, both in the Empire of Astandalas and across the Wide Seas. They just worked slightly differently in Vangavaye-ve than the rest of the worlds.

The rest of the Empire seemed to view soulmates as a monolith. From what Cliopher had been able to glean, the tradition was grounded in their magic. Magi had soulmates, or rather, magic-workers would each have a soulmate. Cliopher wasn't clear if all magic-workers had a soulmate, or if magic-workers simply could have one, but there was always a mage in soulmate pairs, and it was always a pair. There were no marks, no visible signs involved, as soulmates were something that were sensed with magic. They were permanent, intrinsic, and to be recognized immediately.

To Wide Sea Islanders, soulmates were a choice.

The soul-marks, lana and lani-voa, would appear the first time you touched someone that you had chosen to love, with the full knowledge that you loved them. Cliopher had the marks of his mother and father, his sisters, Basil and Dimiter, Bertie and Ghilly. His skin was covered lovingly with the colors of his love, marks that he had gotten used to concealing with long sleeves in Astandalas when he had gotten tired of the constant staring at his 'primitive tattoos'.

Buru Tovo had been the only one to give him lani-voa, a greater mark of the soul. The pattern, with its thick lines and twisting design in a deep blue, extended over the entirety of his left arm and shoulder. They were the dances of his family pressed onto his skin, and he had traced them over with reverent and feather-light touch for months after he had received them. A lani-voa marked someone who had changed your life for the better in a deep and irrevocable way. It was a great honor to have even one.

And now, with the gold stretching up his right arm, new patterns that he didn't recognize stretching up from a handprint of pure gold that was expanding the longer he held that first contact with Tor—

now he had two.

(Buru Tovo is Cliopher's great uncle, for context. In fact, everyone listed there is either a familial or platonic relationship, with a single relationship that used to be romantic but settled into platonic.))

so. yeah. Love is a choice! The Biggest Of Moods! any soulmate lore that undermines that is a Bad Message, in my opinion.

The emphasis also on platonic soulmates leads into my second point:

2. I have found in my life that platonic relationships that I have are and have always been as important if not moreso than the romantic relationships. the emphasis of a single romantic relationship as the most important relationship that you can be in maybe fits for some people, but as a generalization to absolutely everyone I think is toxic and harmful. and not just for aro people! I'm not aro, but I would be miserable to write off my friends as Less Important And Meaningful to me than my parter, whom I love with all my heart! (I've actually ended up in my life settling into what I call the red/blue/gold system for 'relationships that I treat with the importance that society treats romantic relationships', but that's a personal thing). The standard soulmate trope tends to really solidly deliver the thesis of "there is a single romantic relationship that is the single most important relationship in your life" and I just think that's a very bad thesis.

3. Finally, I think the emphasis on permanent/forever is a harmful one for relationships in general. People change. you drift closer to people or further away from them. you move, they move, your schedules change, your interests change, your life changes. if you are living with a romantic partner you're going to keep seeing each other every day, but that doesn't stop you from changing as a person, which means see Point 1 Love Is A Choice; but even if you choose to remain together, you are probably eventually going to Ship Of Theseus your entire relationship. I think it is an important message that if that happens and it is no longer a relationship that is as deeply positive as it once was in your life, you don't...have to keep it out of loyalty to what it once was.

It's okay for people to drift out of your life that were once the most important person in your life. It doesn't invalidate how important and meaningful that relationship used to be, and it isn't a betrayal to let yourself and them and your relationships change and evolve. The idea that something has to be forever for it to matter I think is the idea about soulmates that I disagree with the most. Probably because that was the hardest lesson for me to learn as a kid and a teenager, and the life lesson that I am proudest for learning.

3.5 your point 'plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist' is exactly on the nose, literally I am unable to write anything without attempting to write down a universal theory of everything for How The World Works. if something soulmate-wise is going down even if it never appears on the page you bet your ass I have either figured out the general cosmology and theology of "are there gods or divine forces who have instituted this policy? if so, why? what purpose does it serve", or in the case of abaabf which already has such interesting magic rules in the original canon of "is there an evolutionary reason for soulmates to exist" which I don't go tracing out full evolutionary biology for a fic necessarily mostly because I would want the full evolutionary biology in canon to make sure mine is compliant enough but that sure as hell does translate to "if soulmates exist and it's not for the reason of Because Godlike Beings Said So, there better be a practical purpose". I find at least long-form soulmate fics (ie things With Plot and a Developed Setting that aren't just "let's do a ficlet with this well-known trope") that Do Not Feel Like They've At Least Thought About Why Soulmates Happen To Exist hurt my soul. which I think slightly intersects with my "I hate it when the rules of the universe/ laws of physics are human-centric" instead of "the base rules which were not designed for humans came first, and how the human world works arose in reaction to them" and. yeah. consistent desire to know at least for myself why things are set up the way that they're set up which gods ifmlam is wild and completely bullshit and pulls from quantum multiverse philosophy I started writing that thing when I was like. eighteen? nineteen? but at least it's there so I can be consistent.

as a caveat for everything above: I don't actually think that fiction, fanfiction in particular, needs to perfectly reflect what A Good Relationship or A Good Message About Relationships should be. it is a very human desire in a chaotic and confusing world to want a simple, absolute, binary thing to hold onto. fiction is a place for escapism or wish fulfillment or even exploring things that you wouldn't actually want in real life, I think that the movement in fandom/fiction that all of the messaging in your story should match the advice you'd give for a real-life setup is a bad and harmful one. mostly my opinions on soulmates and hence desire to do inversions of the soulmate trope in my fic and things like the red/blue/gold system and heavy emphasis on platonic relationships in original work that I'm writing is about a desire to see representation for me and the things I love and find important and my sort of relationships in the stories that are a big part of my life. but I am really glad that in doing so I seem to have struck a chord in other people, who maybe want to see the same thing!

[raleighcarrera]

18. From the best and worst prompts for Raleigh 🙂

best vs. worst prompts / 18. best part of the wedding vs. worst part of the wedding

the worst part 

the hallway outside of the bridal suite is blessedly empty when he stops in front of the door he knows cadence is just behind, putting the finishing touches on her outfit. 

he hesitates before he knocks, wondering if he should even be out here. cadence surely doesn’t need any added stress right now, but -- he feels itchy and unsettled, and hearing her voice would help immensely to soothe some of his anxiety.

“babe?” raleigh calls cautiously, “you there?”

there’s muffled sounds from behind the door, and then her voice, clear as day. “hey! what’re you doing here? is everything okay?”

“everything’s fine,” he answers. his voice is high and sounds unconvincing, even to him. “but do you think people will notice if i sweat through my tux?”

“um...” cadence’s voice is slower now, less excited and more concerned. “i don’t think so. it’s black.” there’s a beat of silence before she speaks again, her voice filtering lowly through the gap in the side of the door. “are you sure you’re alright? do you want to come in?”

guilt swells within him -- he really shouldn’t be bothering her. not now, not like this. “isn’t that bad luck?”

“only if you believe in that, i guess.” he watches the doorknob turn slowly. “but you can close your eyes, if you want.”

that’s probably for the best. he needs to calm down. his eyes squeeze shut as cadence slowly pulls the door open, and he lifts the hand that isn’t slipped in hers to cover his eyes as she leads him inside.

“oh -- wow,” cadence breathes, and despite himself, the hushed, awed tone of her voice makes his lips quirk up into the smallest grin. “you look -- jesus, raleigh. that tux is perfect.”

“okay, keep it in your pants.” though it’s relaxing, at least mildly, to tease her. it’s a nice reminder of the fact that despite the pressures of the whole world watching them and the five hundred people waiting to hear their most private declarations of love to one another, this day is still, at its core, about the two of them. she’s the only person he has to make happy today.

“what’s on your mind? you know you can tell me anything.”

he sighs, turning to face the wall instead of her so he can open his eyes, pushing his fingers through his hair once they’re free from covering his face. “i guess i’m just -- freaking out a little.” cadence is pointedly quiet behind him. “i’m sorry, i don’t want to be. but -- there are a lot of people here. what if i fuck this up, you know? what if it’s not perfect for you?”

“raleigh. oh my god, of course today is going to be perfect -- no matter what happens. there’s nothing for you to fuck up.”

“well, i could just -- blank. forget everything i want to say. and then everyone here is going to be like, ha ha, remember when raleigh fucked up at his own wedding? for the rest of our lives. every time we see these people.” it’s admittedly something that’s crossed his mind, about... ten thousand times today alone. he rubs at his eyes with frustration. 

“that’s not going to happen,” cadence answers firmly, “because i know you. even if you don’t say your vows the way you wrote them you’ll say something from the heart and... that’ll be perfect to me, baby. i mean -- jesus christ, i’m not marrying you because you’re some perfect person who always says the right thing.” 

he snorts, despite himself. no, she’s certainly not. but still. “look,” he starts, finding it hard not to be overwhelmed by just how close they are to showtime. any minute now, someone’s going to come looking for one of them. “you know i love you, right?”

“raleigh,” cadence says again, though his name sounds much different, this time. she sounds a little bit like she’s panicking, too. 

“i do. i really -- i just do. and i know today is going to be the best day of my life, but... i don’t want things to change between us, cadence. what if -- what if after today, everything is different?” 

“well... of course things are going to be different, baby.” now her voice is gentle, as though he’s likely to bolt at every moment. that just makes him feel worse. “but good different, you know? like when we moved in together.”

“yeah.” so why does he still feel like puking? “i know.”

cadence’s pause this time feels hesitant -- unsure. guilt twists his stomach further; the last thing he wants her to feel today is uncertain. 

but he doesn’t say anything else, and after a moment she asks, “i’ll see you out there?”

the best part 

“sorry -- excuse me.” chris winters and his wife smile indulgently at raleigh as he butts in to their conversation, but he only spares them a glance before his eyes are on cadence, again. “i just need to borrow this one for a few minutes.”

she slips away with him with a giggle, a champagne-induced flush to her face as they cross the room hand-in-hand. “where are we going?”

“no where,” he answers, pausing at the edge of the dance floor to spin her around and into his arms, grinning smoothly at cadence when she stops with a hand braced on his chest and a big smile on her face. “i just haven’t kissed you in five minutes, so -- i came to collect.”

she hums, pushing up onto her tiptoes and looping her arms around his neck, kissing him solidly, her lips warm and soft and familiar against his. since the end of the ceremony, they’ve done this at least one hundred times, but each kiss has felt better and more important than the last, leaving his heart pounding and his hands shaking every single time.

it was amazing how all his nerves seemed to melt away the moment he saw her walk down the aisle towards him. as soon as he looked her in the eye, everything that made him anxious disappeared; he no longer cared about the millions of eyes on them and everything that could go wrong. all he could see and hear and focus on was her. 

and if he got a little teary-eyed, reciting his vows? well -- the whole world would find out eventually.

not that he cared.

not that he could care about anything, when cadence was smiling at him like she had been all day, radiant and beautiful throughout the cocktail hour and the reception, which was really getting underway now that the speeches had been given and they were both a few good drinks deep each.

“i love you so much,” she breathes, when he finally lets her up for air, her eyes shining all over again. 

he feels suspiciously choked up himself, his thumb stroking back and forth across her cheekbone. “i love you, too. you’re the best wife in the world.”

cadence beams even more radiantly at him, squeezing his shoulders. “how can you possibly know that? i’ve only been your wife for two hours.”

“they’ve been the best two hours of my life,” he assures honestly, delicately kissing the top of her head and then her nose, which crinkles under his lips as she laughs again. 

“i’m so glad we did this,” she gushes, her hips swaying a little to the music the band is playing, the wide skirt of her white dress swishing out across the floor. 

he knows people are watching them. he knows that whatever happens tonight is going to eclipse every other party he’s ever thrown -- that tonight is going to be something the entire world talks about for the rest of their lives. 

but he’s with her, so he doesn’t care. “me, too.”