#but with the current situation in mind i have to be cautiously optimistic

[chocolate-cream-soldier]

-

[aminiatureworld]

Time and Chance II

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,702

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Confessions are tricky things. Sometimes it takes week, maybe months, maybe years of building up courage for one to happen. And sometimes life throws the oddest wrenches in our paths.

In which the reader confesses.

Author’s Note:

Sorry for the lack of Zhongli. I feel completely awful currently and though I wrote part of his scenario it was really poor in quality so I decided to stick with Kaeya and Xiao. I’ll get to him and Keqing another time I promise. Also don’t worry this isn’t life or death I just need to sleep it off lol. I realize between this and my computer there’s always something and I feel a bit guilty about it. At least I hope everything’s up to par!

This also probably won’t get proofread tonight.

 I hope you enjoyed my extra fic for Valentine’s Day! To all the lovely people who requested prompts I will be getting to those next week. Have a lovely night and thank you so much for your patience!

Kaeya

Perhaps falling in love with Kaeya wasn’t the most original thing you’d ever done, but by the time you’d come to that conclusion you were too far gone to care.

You loved Kaeya, or at least you liked him a lot. As someone who looked up to the Knights of Favonius there was something intriguing about the man who was simultaneously one of its lynchpins, and a sort of rogue state of a human being. It didn’t hurt that he was stupidly good looking, and a bit of a smoother talker. Okay, maybe more than a bit, but you didn’t really mind that. It was nice to be flirted with sometimes, and Kaeya had the sense never to take it too far.

You figured that Kaeya was at least somewhat aware of your feelings. Though you never asked about it, it seemed somehow too brash. Instead you figured that, in the months that had passed since your friendship had begun – for you did see it as a friendship by now – Kaeya had become aware and decided not to comment on it, as to not hurt your feelings. Though you wouldn’t go as far as call it noble of him, you certainly appreciated it.

So this charade continued on. You two remained close friends, or rather close friends in your estimation. Kaeya continued to flirt and you continued to ignore your personal feelings. It was truly an odd song and dance, but it wasn’t one you were about to change, not willingly anyways.

It’d become a bit of a tradition to patrol together. Seeing as you were an adventurer yourself and Kaeya was, well, Kaeya, you two had eventually decided it was better to make one long patrol together than two shorter patrols apart. Besides wasn’t the rule safety in numbers?

It was an exceedingly boring patrol, and as it neared its end the atmosphere between you two grew from semi-serious to absolute buffoonery. Kaeya had challenged you to see who could pick the most flowers the fastest, then who could control their vision’s element the long, then eventually, seized by some divine genius, he suggested that you might see who could run the farthest on the walls of Monstadt without falling over.

“This has got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever agreed to.” You grumbled good naturedly. “Don’t blame me if you go tumbling off and end up with a broken leg.”

“I trust you’ll lift me to safety before that happens.” Kaeya answered back, eyes alight with his daredevil proposal.

“My anemo vision isn’t your personal elevator captain.” You reminded him. Hauling yourself up on the walls so you were on the farthest side you flashed a thumbs up. Kaeya nodded.

“Okay. Three… two… one and three quarters.”

“Kaeya.” You huffed, eliciting a chuckle from the knight.

“Okay, okay. Three, two, one, go!” The two of you ran as fast as you could, scrambling up the turrets, too concentrated to talk. Kaeya was laughing though, and eventually you found yourself laughing too, thrilled by the recklessness you were indulging in and the freedom to be doing it with someone apparently as stupid as you were.

“I’m getting ahead~” Kaeya chimed. You scoffed, quickening your pace. Kaeya did likewise, and for a moment it seems you two were going to be running the entire wall in this position. That is before Kaeya slipped.

“Shit.” He cursed, waving his arms like a madman. This only lasted a few seconds before he truly tumbled off, heading towards the stone paved ground. You didn’t say anything, though your brain was screaming various incomprehensible things. You simply clambered off your perch, hands already outstretched, praying to the god Barbatos that you could manipulate air you couldn’t see.

Luck was on your side as it turned out, and your swirl of wind caught Kaeya before he hit the pavement. Gliding down you shook your head wildly.

“Great gods Kaeya you scared the shit out of me!” You knew that you were screaming slightly, but you couldn’t help it. The whole situation had riled you up, leaving you panicked and not fully in control of your emotions.

“I’m fine! Honestly I am. I’m only sorry I lost.” Kaeya chuckled, but his laughter was weaker than before and his expression was slightly shocked.

“It’s not time to joke around Kaeya!” You shot back. “You can’t be so reckless! I know that it was also my fault for agreeing to it, but honestly! What would Monstadt do without you? What would I do without you?” You paused then, realizing that what you said held certain implications you’d been hoping to keep under wraps.

“What do you mean?” Kaeya’s expression immediately became brighter. Figures he’d read the meaning into your words. Honestly the man was too emotionally intelligent for his own good.

“I meant was I said.” You replied, figuring that there was nothing else to say. The truth was all but out now. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you Kaeya. Now I’m going to tell you something I’ve been hiding for a while, and since I saved your life and revealed it in the process I just want you to take it seriously, okay? I’m not joking, and now that I’ve said it I want to make it explicit. I like you. Like, I like, like you. And I know that I’m just your friend and that you’ve probably been aware of it for ages, but it’s out in the open now, okay? You don’t have to reciprocate or anything, that’s not it. I just… want to let it out.”

You stared at Kaeya, trying to gauge his reaction as much as possible, unwilling to look away. Unsurprisingly the news hardly seemed shocking to him, but instead of his smile slipping from his face it only grew wider. “You’re kinda oblivious you know.”

“I – what?” You sputtered, slightly offended. This wasn’t where you expecting it to go. “I don’t expect you to reciprocate, but leave the teasing alone for now at least!” So much for calling Kaeya emotionally intelligent.

“You’re reading this the wrong way!” Kaeya held up his hands, before stepping closer to you. “I just can’t believe that you’ve been my friend this whole time, had feelings on top of it, and never noticed that I was just as interested in you. I mean I’ve been flirting with you for months.”

“You flirt with everyone.” You scoffed, although the argument seemed to hold a bit less weight when compared to the jubilant, slightly smug look on Kaeya’s face.

“You may be right about that.” He admitted. “But c’mon. I don’t flirt with them like I flirt with you. I certainly don’t take them out on patrol.” His expression turned softer then, and he shook his head. “I know that I joke around a lot, but I promise, I wouldn’t joke about this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you though, that was a fault on my part.”

“So you mean I’ve been hiding my feelings all this time for nothing?” You deadpanned, feeling overwhelmed. The situation still seemed too good to be true.

“Sounds about right.” Mischief was creeping back into Kaeya’s voice. “But it’s all right now! Your prayers have been heard! So, since you were the one to admit your feelings, I’ll be the one to ask the question. Want to date?”

“Yes.” You replied, sure of your answer.

“Good.” Kaeya replied, before pulling you into a hug, one you gladly reciprocated. It had been a hell of a day, and while you wouldn’t relieve Kaeya’s fall for anything you felt somehow lighter, as if a great burden had been lifted off your shoulders. He liked you, Kaeya liked you. For you, for now, that was all that mattered.

 Xiao

Once you’d decided to admit your feelings to Xiao you’d immediately followed up that decision with the knowledge that you were going to have to break it to him slowly. You’d been friends with Xiao for over a year now, and though you were cautiously optimistic as to how the adeptus would take it, you still knew that he wasn’t the kind of person who would be at all comfortable with a sudden confession.

Confessing your feelings was in itself an act which required all the courage you possessed. You weren’t sure when you’d truly started falling for Xiao, it had come about so gradually. But before you knew it you had grown to love him. You loved the way he talked, the soft cadence of his voice though often impatient was still filled with enough softness to make your heart flutter. You loved how, despite all he’d suffered, he still retained a begrudging love for the world, especially Liyue, which he once revealed to you would always be the one thing he loved, even if he loved nothing else. You loved everything, his hands, his eyes, the way he walked, the way he kept going despite it all. You loved it so much it hurt, and now you found that your love wasn’t something merely to be pushed away. If the odds of Xiao rejecting you were almost 100 so be it, at least then you’d be proud of yourself.

You spent quite a bit of time mulling the whole thing over, before the answer struck you. Xiao refused the gifts you brought him after some of your adventures, and when you’d once asked him what he might accept he’d shifted his gaze slightly towards the side, one hand running itself through his hair. “…Almond… Tofu.” He’d admitted. You’d been delighted by the revelation at the time, promising yourself you’d learn to make it. And what was a better way to show your feelings than to do so now? Not only was it something he’d like, it was something you’d made yourself.

So you gathered all the ingredients, borrow a receipt, and set to work in Wangshu Inn’s kitchen.

Unfortunately you’d failed to predict how difficult Almost Tofu was to make. It’d been hours and you had nothing to show for it but dirty utensils, a scarcity of ingredients, and a few mysterious blobs that looked about two steps away from inedible. Leaning your head on the counter you let out a groan. Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea?

“What’re you doing?” A familiar voice broke through your reverie.

“Xiao!” You exclaimed, glancing around you. There was no use hiding the project, although technically nothing was looking even close to Almond Tofu right now. “I was, I was trying to make Almond Tofu. But I guess I’m no good at cooking.” You laughed, more than slightly embarrassed.

Xiao’s eyes narrowed, and he raised an eyebrow. Saying nothing he walked over to the counter. Grabbing a cloth he started wiping down the counter.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, slightly confused and extremely surprised.

“Teaching you.” Came the reply. “Come on, let’s start again. Have you washed your hands since your last attempt?”

If cooking was difficult without Xiao it was impossible with him. The whole time you couldn’t help butbe aware of his presence, the way he stood behind you, leaning forward ever so often. Once you hadn’t been mixing fast enough and he placed his hands on yours, pressing his chest against your back. Your grip had immediately lost all strength, and you were sure that Xiao was the only one actually working. His breath was warm against your neck, and his palms were warm and dry. It was all too much, and you spent the rest of the lesson only half paying attention, too wrapped up in his proximity to you.

Despite the distractions this batch turned out, well looking like Almond Tofu. You couldn’t help but smile when seeing the finished product. Even if you didn’t make it completely yourself, there was still something about creating that gave you a sense of pride. Even if you did need help from the person you were going to give it to.

“It’s done.” Xiao proclaimed, a slight smile of satisfaction on his face. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Oh, well actually I made it for you.” You grabbed the plate and approached the adeptus. “I know you said it was your favorite, and the only thing you’d accept, so, I made it!” You smiled slightly, though inside you were a bundle of nerves. This was happening. Holy shit this was happening.

The surprise on Xiao’s face was evident, but he nevertheless took the plate. Grabbing a pair of chopsticks he pressed into the tofu, causing it to almost immediately separate. Taking a bite a smile crossed his face. “Thank you,” he said, “it’s very good. I’m surprised you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” You replied, voice slightly hurried. “And, um, well I’d like to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Xiao’s slightly concerned look returned. Setting the plate down he crossed his arms.

“Well… you see.” You glanced at the floor. “I know this will probably seem very sudden, and maybe not very proper; and I know that this is something that’s purely one sided, but the fact is I like you. I like you more than a friend and, well… yeah.” You finished, feeling as if you’d just spoken some utter nonsense.

Glancing up you noticed how rigid Xiao had gone. Mouth twisting into a nervous frown you shook your head. “I’m so sorry! I know that you aren’t really, well you’ve said you aren’t familiar with the way humans experience the world. And I don’t want to put you on the spot, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I’m sorry it’s so shocking.” Glancing away you started worrying your hands together. This had gone so much worse than you’d expected it.

“I don’t understand,” Xiao finally spoke, dropping his arms to his sides, “I don’t understand why you’d like someone like me. I’m not a human, and in terms of adepti I’m far more cursed than most. You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t like some like me. I bring disaster.”

“No you don’t!” The objection came naturally to you, horrified as you were by Xiao’s view of himself. “You’re one of the most wonderful beings I’ve ever met, human or adeptal! You’re kind, and you try to understand the pain and emotions of humanity. And you never push your burdens onto others despite carrying such heavy ones. If that’s not the mark of a good person, well then I don’t know what is!”

“I still don’t understand.” Xiao said, voice softer than usual but just as matter of fact.

“I’m sorry I pushed this onto you.” You said, suddenly feeling a burst of regret, turning around you made to leave the kitchen.

“Wait!” Xiao’s voice was loud and slightly jarring, his hand caught your wrist in a grip that, while gentle, was still firm. You turned around, unsure what to expect. Xiao sighed, closing the distance between you two. “When I said I don’t understand, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” There was a pause as he collected his thoughts, looking down, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t understand how humans think, nor how they feel. But, when I’m around you I’m happy, happier than I’ve been in a millennia. And I want to be around you, all the time sometimes. I want to know more about you and I want you to know more about me. So, if that’s what you mean, then… I also like you.”

Xiao glanced back up towards you and your eyes met. You felt slightly floaty all of a sudden, as if you’d gotten very, very drunk. Everything was too sudden, your emotions had changed too quickly. But through all your confusion you understood one thing. Xiao liked you, he liked you. He wasn’t going to reject you or push you away. The thought was enough to bring a smile to your face.

“So you really like me?” You asked. Though you knew the answer now you still wanted to hear it again. Just in case.

“Yes.” Xiao replied, a smile once more adorning his face. “I like you.”

And that was all you needed to hear.

[leviiattacks]

How about Levi x reader, where they get set up on a blind date by their friends as a prank, but actually end up liking each other

note :: honestly not my best at all but it was cute i guess T___T kinda an opposites attract thing also it’s a modern au !!

for some reason hange and sasha wake up one morning and decide they want to wreak havoc

it’s not peculiar coming from them

after all they are always up to something

like the one time sasha purposefully trapped herself in an elevator with a hot guy

or the time hange tried to make coffee with an energy drink mixed in it??

OR-

okay you’re getting sidetracked

but the point is they have no real reason for this new venture of theirs

when do they ever have a reason though?

somehow today their scheming has led to them begging you to go on a blind date

“he’s not my type i mean he’s old and whatever but you would like him” sasha’s stuffing her face with a buttery croissant

she doesn’t sound very convincing

then again, you have no objections to the idea

you’re single

you’re lonely

if it doesn’t end in love well ??? guess you could fuck

and if you don’t fuck well ?? you got to go outside and get some fresh air

BUT

the idea of blind dating makes you squirm

the uncertainty which comes along with the situation is intimidating

honestly, part of you is worried you’ll end up making a mortal enemy at dinner, not a lover

the other portion is petrified you’ll end up on a date with a murderer

what if it ends up like that one netflix show and you end up getting stalked????

you shudder at that thought

BE OPTIMISTIC Y/N!! YUP YUP OPTIMIST ERA!!!

levi feels the same way but his version of nervous is very different to your own

his fears are very different

what if his date appears prim and proper but it’s really just a huge facade hiding how their house is a pigsty?

imagine the third date in is a movie night in and he walks into a landfill site...

what if his date chews their food obnoxiously loud?

what if they just dislike him?

that’s why ideally he would prefer dating someone he knows beforehand

but there’s no one he knows already that he’s interested in

that’s exactly why when hange calls levi and asks him if he’s willing to go on a blind date on such short notice he scoffs and tells them that maybe if they got a life they would know that his answer is a straight no

he’s used to people not pairing well with him

he guesses it’s because of his sardonic personality, maybe it’s his occupation - he is constantly busy after all. perhaps it’s his foul mouth

erwin told him the last time he had a date that he should probably ease up on the cursing but it’s levi...

he isn’t going to change for anyone.

and really if him being little mean is that much of a deal breaker he won’t bother looking for anyone

he’ll go it solo he supposes

“LEVI. PLEASE. you both would fit together like jigsaw pieces.” hange is practically begging

then they stop for a second and wiggle their eyebrows “that can have many alternative meaningssss~”

levi purses his lips and shoots them a hard glare

“shut it, i’m not going. i’m busy.”

“busy doing.....?”

“cleaning i need t-”

“NO??? do it some other time please they’re smart, fun AND not boring at all.”

hange gives him a pleading look then explains how his mystery date has already agreed for sasha’s sake and he really can’t stand you up

“you want me to go on a blind date with one of SASHA BRAUS’ friends????”

he looks at hange in utter disbelief because that means you just have to be loud mouthed and annoying like jean or connie

or just be as stupidly unfunny

he shakes his head rejecting the idea completely

“i enjoy sophisticated people.”

hange sighs heavily

“give it a chance! c’monnn what if i bribe you?”

little does levi know hange and sasha have purposefully picked you out because of the way you’re both polar opposites

where levi loves order you’re disorderly, where he follows his own rules you don’t follow any at all, where he is disagreeable you’re agreeable in every way of the word

where he is cold, you are warm, he’s a night owl, you’re an early bird, you’re day and he’s night

everything about the two of you is different

that isn’t necessarily bad, but sasha and hange find it hilarious enough to set you both up on this date

if it fails it’ll still be funny

you’re rummaging through your closet looking for your favourite perfume because to be frank you are NOT showing up unprepared

like?? what if he moves in to hug you and he smells the scent of the chicken you were cooking today

yeah you did have a shower but sometimes you wonder if the smell lingers

you KNOW it doesn’t but it’s a matter of principle

imagine he leans in and smells marinated chicken

you think you’d die on the spot if that were to ever happen

shoving a pack of mints in your purse along with your emergency pepper spray you give your outfit a once over

it’s nothing too extravagant but it’ll do the job

at this point, everything is great! you’re walking out of your door and you’re pumped up

you’ll be early for once and there’s a spring in your step

making a good first impressions is key here

you’re so close to your uber BUT

then you hear it

it’s almost inaudible but you’re sure you hear a mewl come out of the alleyway to your right

you’re about to ignore it because you aren’t even sure if you’ve heard it correctly

and it’s late you don’t feel like wandering into an empty alleyway

but the sound only repeats itself

fuck.

cautiously venturing inside you see it.

eyes softening you look at the stray kitten in front of you and bite your bottom lip and scoop him up in your arms you’re debating if running back to your apartment and leaving him there is the best option

what’s the other option?

well you could bring the cat along with you...

it would be a funny story for the future if the date goes well

now. unlike you levi is nowhere near late

in fact he’s ten minutes early waiting promptly outside of the restaurant in his white button up

he fiddles with his collar and wonders how the actual hell he got talked into doing this

hange offering to buy him cleaning supplies free of charge is probably it

8:15pm, you were meant to be here five minutes ago

if you’ve stood him up he’s going to end hange for wasting his precious free time

especially when he rarely interrupts his schedule for anyone.

a few moments of silence pass and he thinks

how do you look? 

not like it matters to him

but he’d just like to know

okay, so.

it’s 8:30pm now

levi is royally pissed off that you even have the audacity to show up

you’re holding your knees as you puff in and out

“I’M SORRY. i know i’ve wasted all your time but i saw a stray on my way here and i couldn’t leave him”

the updo your hair is in is disheveled and fly aways stick out

you’ve ran here after your uber broke down that much is obvious.

to be fair, your explanation is believable and he would have let it slide if and only if

you had NOT brought the fucking cat along with you???

he’s eyeing it with disgust as it purrs up against you and you coo at it stroking its fur

“you want to sneak a cat into the restaurant?” he asks in pure disbelief

sheepishly grinning and scratching the back of your neck your response is “well i know we can’t but if you tried to i wouldn’t mind because i really like this cat :-(”

when hange said he’d have fun they were lying

but at least they didn’t lie about you not being boring.

he picks the cat up with one of his hands

looks it in the eyes

sighs then places him carefully into your purse

“don’t let him be seen.”

you light up and try to hide the grin forming on your face

he isn’t that bad

he’s a little too serious for your liking but you can handle that.

the two of you walk into the restaurant and fuck you because the cat has to start mewling and screeching

coughing rather aggressively to cover it up it miraculously goes unheard

he shoots you a sturdy glare because he’s able to hear the muffled sounds

luckily, no one else is standing near you or is within earshot.

gulping you realise this is not a good first impression at all

late to the date, bringing a cat with you, begging him to help you sneak the cat in

you feel guilty, he probably expected way better

“oi, move your ass” he snaps

you look up realising you’ve been too lost in thought to see levi walking in front of you

“sorry” you mumble

he doesn’t respond but he does look back at you

you can’t gather anything from his face because it’s either plain or he’s got his brows furrowed

currently it’s showing no signs of distaste so he must be accepting your apology

he’s kind enough, steps out of the way to offer you the space to sit down first

he sits after you and you have no idea where to look

then the cat cries again from your purse

“lucifer, shhhhh”

you’re patting him and try to silence him

“you’ve named it already?”

laughing to yourself you’re happy he’s initiated the conversation first

“he’s a little sneaky so i called him it. do you have any other names you’d like?”

“why would my input in this matter be relevant?”

“you’re basically his family now!”

he’s covering his mouth with his hands and you swear you can see the pink tinge of a blush creep upwards and flood his cheeks

but this man doesn’t seem like the type to blush over anything.

composing himself he sticks a hand out and finally asks “what’s your name?”

coming back to your senses you realize it’s been twenty minutes since you’ve met and you haven’t even had the manners to ask his name even after arriving late

“Y/N!! what’s yours?”

play it cool!!!

he doesn’t respond instead stares at your purse and points with his index finger

lucifer has escaped again and now you really are regretting bringing him along with you

whilst you’re grabbing the cat and hushing him your date hums “try to guess it.”

well, that’s spontaneous, he doesn’t seem like the type to entertain himself with games

you think hard, he’s serious but he is kind, you guess that’s why he reminds you of sebastian from the little mermaid

get it? because he’s sweet but he’s a crab so he’s crabby??

god that joke is AWFUL because it doesn't even take into account the actual character of sebastian the crab

but you have no other guesses available.

“hmm... sebastian?” you jokingly ask

“it’s levi.” he deadpans.

oh wow you couldn’t be more far off

playing around with your fingers in your lap you fidget nervously looking around for a waiter to interrupt the conversation

levi has to sense your unease because his tone loosens up

“...do i really look like a sebastian though?”

looking back up at him your bite your lip keeping a giggle in

you can sense the ghost of a smile on his face

“yeah like the crab from a little mermaid”

at that he scowls but he inquires what exactly that means

the rest of the date goes without a hitch, sure there’s a few moments where lucifer attempts to sneak away but levi has no problems stopping him

it takes a while but the conversation flows easily after the awkward barrier from before is broken down

it’s lighthearted and calm.

he’s humorous in a way you can’t describe

levi’s mannerisms are cute, everything about him is endearing despite the serious front he has

and you can’t quite put your finger on it but his demeanor is charming

overall you find yourself enjoying the date even more than you expected

now the two of you are walking away from the booth and the fresh night time air hits your face as you step outside

turning to him you smile radiantly and without allowing him to get a word in you take your opportunity by the reins

“second date?”

you don’t normally make the first move but you’re eager

and to your surprise he’s just as eager as you are.

it doesn’t even look like he stops to think before he nods and agrees to meet with you again.

exchanging numbers with him you wave as you and lucifer part ways with levi feeling satisfied

and to his shock after you leave it settles, levi thinks he just might enjoy your presence

well, that’s a first for him.

he guesses what they say about opposites attracting is true

[leonicscorpio]

Why I’m Cautiously Optimistic for Batman: Urban Legends

So this is a spoiler review of Batman: Urban Legends and the story between Jason Todd and Bruce Wayne that was introduced to us yesterday. 

For those who don’t know, I like Jason Todd and The Red Hood. A lot. However being a Red Hood fan has been frustrating to say the least. He’s one of the most inconsistently written characters in the DCU. Prior to the New 52 and Rebirth. Red Hood was pretty much a straight-up villain. However under Scott Lobdell (for better or for worse) we got Red Hood and the Outlaws. Which transformed Jason from villain to Anti-Hero with varying shades of tropes from Sociopathic Hero at worst to Knight in Sour Armor at best. 

I am in no way trying to say that Jason is a bad character. I’d say he truly is my favorite DC Comics character. However a large portion of it comes from Lobdell��s portrayal of a bitter anti-hero trained by the deadliest assassins in the world coming off of a failed revenge attempt against his former parental guardian. To learning to mellow out a bit and still be a hero, but keep his deadly tactics. 

It’s hypocritical to say that I dislike the fact that Jason kills people.  Quite graphically and brutally mind you. Call it disturbing but that’s what a lot of people like about him. However what has caused a large rift between the DC Fans and Jason Todd is the fact that a lot of the time his foot is halfway in the anti-hero door, halfway trying to warm up to Bruce and the Batman. The problem with the later being Lobdell’s obsession with making Jason teeter between wanting to be on Bruce’s good side, reverting back to what he does best, which is kill, harm, and maim, and Bruce proceeding to hunt him down and beat Jason to within an inch of his life. 

It’s just as infuriating for us the readers as it is for the character. What I think fans would appreciate is if Jason were to just leave Batman, stay with the Outlaws, and be his own team. Helping Bruce out occasionally but letting Jason do his own thing. Or to have Bruce fully accept Jason as he is. Which, while is something that sounds nice, but thematically makes little to no sense considering the fact that Jason has done horrific things. Including but not limited to.. 

- Having been confirmed to have killed EIGHTY THREE PEOPLE (83). And this was at the beginning of OUTLAWS. That number has most certainly gone up. 

- Tortured a drug dealer to death by injecting them with bleach. 

- In Under the Red Hood, he decapitated the middle ranking members of the highest crime bosses in Gotham. (And from the shocked looks on their faces, it seems as though Jason started the decapitation process when they were alive) 

- Regularly attempted to harm/if not kill Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne in some earlier comics. 

- Tormented Mia Darden (Speedy) in Seeing Red about her past about being a sex worker and being homeless in her youth in a way to try to get her to join him. When she refuses Jason proceeds to blow up her school. Yikes. 

- In Last Crusade he killed a mook by Crushing their head in with a car door. Oh and he did that AS ROBIN. 

I’m fully aware a lot of those deeds were erased by the Rebirth/New 52. However it’s clear to see why Bruce, while probably does still care and support Jason. He absolutely cannot let Jason run around unchecked in his eyes.  That’s why I think it’s unlikely given the events of how Under the Red Hood transpired, Jason in his current state would ever truly and fully be welcomed back into the Bat Family. 

Okay LeonicScorpio, this is great and all, but this is supposed to be a post about Batman Urban Legends, you tell me. Well, my dear reader, I shall now get to it. I was setting up the fact that Jason, while he is heroic and has done heroic things, he also is someone who once reveled in violence, causing pain and suffering, and still has a core philosophy in believing killing people based on certain crimes is allowable. (SPOILERS FOR BATMAN: URBAN LEGENDS BELOW) 

Chip Zdarsky has done a fantastic job in introducing Jason in this side story. A new drug is sweeping across Gotham. Jason encounters a situation far too similar to his own upbringing. An overdosed mother and a sad crying boy confused. Jason takes the boy named Tyler and promises to protect him. 

While I’m on the fence about Eddy Barrows’s take on Jason style wise. You cannot understate the symbolism of his art in this shot. Jason Todd, the same one who came back from the dead and decapitated men when they were alive and reveled in causing pain, comforting a child when they were afraid in a genuine way is something a lot of the fanon has wanted for a long time. However Barrow’s art style gives a sense of uneasiness to the heroic-ness of Jason. Almost as if Jason is unsure of himself. It’s twisted in that it’s both dark but heroic. 

Things come to a head when Jason realizes Tyler’s father is probably a drug pusher in Gotham. And when he does finally catch up to the boy’s father. He does take a non-violent approach to trying to get Tyler’s father to turn around (Rubber bullets to the leg. Jason is trying.) However upon trying to reason with Tyler’s father Jason learns that his father was giving the drug to his mother and his son as a means of keeping them controlled. And that Tyler’s father doesn’t give a damn about his family. 

Now what do we know about Jason? He kills those who gives drugs to children and parents of children. So what comes next is very on-brand of Jason. Hell I wasn’t even shocked by Jason’s reaction to this at all. 

What happens after is what I’ve wanted to write for the longest time. Jason realizes that he’s just killed Tyler’s father. Even if his father didn’t care and was outright abusive towards him. He still killed his father. And Jason stops and drops to his knees because he realizes what he’s done. When I read that my reaction was literally the Jeff Goldblum “You did it, you crazy son of a bitch you did it.” I love Jason but I’ve wanted a story where Jason has to face the consequences of his philosophy and actions. Jason does want to be good and make a difference. But by killing Jason has dug himself into a hole he cant easily bury himself out of. 

So long story short Batman Urban Legends should have all of your attentions. 

[colderthancoldest]

An Easy Alliance

Prompt: "You're here." "I'm here, just like I promised." & "I came back for you. I promised I would, and I did." (This Request)

Ao3 Link

Pairing: Dhawan!Master × Reader

Word Count: about 5k

Summary:  It's not easy to be a human with a Tardis. You have a doorway to any where and time in the universe- however, the catch is that the worlds on the other side are often treacherous and it feels like they're against you at every turn. You begin to wonder if it's worth it, if you even deserve this opportunity, when a stranger saves you from it- in more ways than one. Maybe you're worth more than you know.

Various Tags: First meeting, falling in love, fluff and angst, happy ending, my goal is that you will cry but laugh by the end, im ambitious like that, relationship is open to interpretation

Warning: Feelings of Depression, passive suicidal thoughts (It's not that dark, it's actually quite optimistic by the end, but I always add a warning for anyone sensitive to these topics. Please stay safe, thank you.)

Note: Please let me know what you think! I don't often write in this style so I really appreciate feedback! Enjoy :D

---

~

It's not easy to be a human with a Tardis.

It's a bit of a long story as to how you've obtained a Tardis of your own in the first place.

Essentially you found it, purely by accident. The ship had fled from the Time War and was left to rot when it's pilot was killed. Tardises are known to be temperamental, and humans are notoriously weak telepaths- but neither of you would get anywhere without each other.

In short, you struck up a deal. You take care of the Tardis, learn how to maintain her, and in return- she becomes your door to anywhere and any time in the universe.

It's difficult, seeing as the two of you can't communicate the way telepaths are able to talk to Tardises, but she- the Tardis insisted 'she'- was making do.

She translated the manual for you, provided you with food and clothes and shelter, and was patient as you slowly learned how to fix and fly her.

As if teaching yourself every inch of advanced and sentient technology wasn't difficult enough- you also found yourself deeply out of place in the far away lands the Tardis took you to.

You're human. You're mortal. You look, dress, and act in a way that's out of place in most non-human societies. Even humans from the distant future- as little as a mere few centuries ahead- barely recognize you.

You're clever and fast, but it's not always enough.

It's all too easy to offend people from cultures you've never met. Even if you do nothing wrong, it's your word against theirs.

If you had a nickel for every time you've nearly been killed by a misunderstanding... Suffice it to say, you could easily afford the tungsten wiring your Tardis is always quick-tempered about.

~

It's in one of these situations that you meet... him.

You're alone, as you always are, with cuffs scratching at your wrists.

The locals of a planet from the future have opted to skip the 'fair trial' bit and head directly to execution.

Of all the ways to go, you can't help but feel a bit... disappointed. A human with a Tardis, a person with a door to anywhere in the known universe, to any time that's ever existed- and this is how it ends.

You suppose you've already gotten more out of life than you could have hoped.

Maybe it's best to quit while you're ahead.

"Really? That's all?" a voice echoes about the large room you're being detained in.

You whip your head about in a feeble and failing attempt to pinpoint the source of the noise. Whoever it is sounds almost amused.

"Someone so quick, someone who's been so careful with the hand they've been dealt, and you're willing to give it all up- here and now?" the strange voice questions.

You spin your head around but there's nothing except shadows. You're set to die at noon and it's barely dawn.

"Who said anything about giving up?" you reply sharply.

You're scared, but that's no reason to show it. You grit your teeth and glare into the darkness around you. You can't pinpoint the figure meandering about in the dark.

"Why? You did, my dear," the voice replies, sounding pleasantly amused.

You squint in a failing attempt to make out the shape stepping into the pale moonlight.

"Me? You don't know a thing about me! I've never met you in my life!" you retort.

And you know this, because you've barely met anyone. You travel to see the sights, not to interfere. You visit worlds to satisfy your curiosity and nothing more. Whoever this is, you've certainly never told them who you are.

The stranger only chuckles faintly.

"I know all about you. A human with a Gallifreyan Tardis? I've been observing you ever since I first detected your ship on Earth.

Then again, it's not your ship- is it?"

Your eyes widen momentarily, but you're quick to force your racing heart back down your throat.

"What I do is none of your business," you defend yourself.

"And what I do is none of yours," the stranger replies in a passive song.

"However," they continue.

They step out from the dark and into the white streaks of moonlight sneaking in from the skylight in the ceiling.

They... look like a human man. A... quite well-kept and well-dressed human man.

A deep purple jacket over an eccentric checkered suit, perfect dark hair that curls at the ends like waves over his face, and dark but shining eyes to match.

You can tell in an instant that you've never met anyone like this before.

"Things have grown dull and you're the first exception to the rule I've seen in a very long time," he says in a tone that suggests this confession is somehow a compliment. "You're never after anything. You only observe."

He tilts his head.

"As much as I dislike humans, somehow- you're different."

He paces about you until you can't see him anymore because of the way the cuffs keep you pinned to the chair in the middle of the room.

You lose sight of him for a brief second.

You fear the worst but then...

The cuffs fall with a clink and your hands are suddenly free.

"For you and only you," he says as he paces back into your field of vision, "I propose an alliance."

"An alliance?" you echo flatly. It's a question, to get him to elaborate, but also a surprise.

All your time traveling, and no one's ever offered you such a thing before.

"Yes, dear," he says in a way that you would assume was patronizing if not for the polite tone of his voice, "an alliance. Your human mind is so loud, I've heard you wondering to yourself how to communicate with your ship, how to repair her, how to fly her. I can be beneficial in that field."

He sounds proud of himself.

You don't cave quickly. You aren't that naive.

You haven't made it through countless adventures- your feet pounding over the surfaces of countless planets, escaping all sorts of dangers- without being careful.

"And in return?" you ask cautiously. There has to be a catch somewhere.

"In return, you help me," he says warmly.

He looks you over with an amused smirk at his lips.

"You see, I have big plans for a certain enemy of mine. However, I don't have time to deal with the day-to-day nonsense of Earth. You help me with the little things and in return, whenever you need saving, I promise to be there."

He taps his chest with a prideful grin.

"I swear on my hearts."

You brush past him as you make your way for the door. You'd better get going before the guards return for your scheduled execution.

The sun is coming up, dying the sky a beautiful purple haze.

"You think that's something you can promise? All of time and space, and you expect me to believe that?" you scoff at his words, "You'll abandon me the moment it's convenient. No deal," you tell him.

He slips past you and reaches an arm across the doorframe to block your path. You cross your arms and glare at him.

To your surprise, he looks angry.

"I'll have you know I take great offence to that! I make good on my promises- unlike some people," he grumbles that last part to himself.

"If I say I won't abandon you, I won't abandon you. If I say I'll be back, I'll come back," he says sharply as he stares you down.

There's something in the way he locks his jaw, something in the way he takes offense to your distrust, something about the way he scrunches his nose and his brows- that make you realize he's telling the truth.

"I keep my word," he insists gravely. "Which is something- you'll find in this universe- not many people do. This arrangement is mutually beneficial. You won't be offered a better deal than this."

You exchange a glare with him for a long moment.

His gentle features are twisted up in anger, his eyes betray and old pain that you've dug up by offending him, his hand remains locked on the doorframe to block your path- and, for some reason, it makes you smile.

You huff a small breath.

"You haven't done this whole 'alliance proposition' thing before, have you?" you ask him.

He falters.

"I haven't had any need for it before," he reasons. "However, I'm currently on a bit of a schedule. I have a lot of dominos to set up before my best enemy arrives to topple them," he admits. His expression softens at the mention of this 'best enemy'.

You pat his shoulder and then pry his hand from the doorframe to pass him by.

He caves easily and follows you outside.

The dawn is breaking and you still need to get back to your ship.

"Alright," you decide with a small sigh.

You do need help with your Tardis and- more than anything- you certainly need someone to watch your back.

It's not every day some well dressed stranger saves you from your own curiosity. You feel obligated to return the favor- seeing as he did just save your life- so you decide you might as well make the most of it.

"What do you need me to do?" you ask, hopefully and yet still bracing for the worst.

Your newest ally grins.

~

He mostly wants information about Earth. He doesn't tell you why- and you don't ask.

It doesn't matter all that much to you anyway. With your Tardis, you've watched whole apocalypses pass you by. You've grown numb to it. In the end, it's always just a different verse of the same old worn-out song.

You're tired and nothing holds your interest for long anymore. Whatever he's planning, you doubt it'll have any effect on you. You might as well keep up your end of the deal.

Once you gather everything on the requested topic, he asks for information on a new one. He wants to know about Cybermen next. He wants to know about The Great Cyberwars- but only odd specifics from near the end that were left undocumented.

You begin to get the feeling that he needs to research their timeline for some reason, but he has an odd fear of them simultaneously. He doesn't want to get too close to the subject.

Again, you don't ask what it's for- and in return: you get more than you gave.

Your latest ally- he has yet to give you his name- plays translator for your Tardis. He explains bits of the manual you were stuck on and how the Tardis functions as a unit.

He's polite and- once you get past his gallows humor- he can be quite funny.

He explains how certain pieces of the Tardis controls have to be flipped in unison because Tardises are meant to have multiple pilots.

He's odd, he's blunt, and strangest of all: he's a very good cook.

He's the kind of person who always has a secret up their sleeve and he surprises you in all the best ways.

You... begin not to mind his company.

He always seems to know what you're about to say before you say it. You blame that part on his psychic abilities.

However, it's almost nice to be understood in that way. In an abstract, personal, understanding way you've never known before.

In response, he gauges that your words and actions are genuine. His ability to sense your unfiltered thoughts let him know that it's safe to open up to you in return, little by little.

Without even realizing the gradual change- he's suddenly a friend.

~

Now when you go out on adventures, when you're a lone mortal facing down the strange and terrifying perils of the universe, you're drastically less afraid.

Instead of passing through with your head down, you're able to stare up at the stars and admire then. You can safely look forwards rather than watching over your shoulder.

You're living instead of surviving.

It happened so gradually, you'd barely even noticed.

~

One day your Tardis lands in a heavily guarded patch of sacred land. It looks like the hillside near a heavily fortified church.

You're not fast enough to explain why you're there, and even if you were- the local authority won't let you. They're very strict people with very black and white thinking.

You're tied to a chair and tossed in the back corner of the guard outpost. So few people get this far past their defenses that the locals don't even have a proper prison to toss you in.

It's a long day indeed, awaiting whatever fate they have planned for you.

You're stuck in the box, alone, tied up in the dull silence. It's... annoying. Instead of wondering if perhaps you deserve it, you decide to escape.

At some point, the guard leaves you alone. You kick the chair around and reach for the scissors on the guard's desk with your hand pinned tight to the metal frame of the chair with rope.

You don't have a chance of escaping, the physics simply aren't there. And even if you get untied, you'll never make it far alive. Still, that doesn't mean you're not going to try. You're not going to let the universe- nor your own apathy and fear- get the best of you this time.

A different guard returns all too quickly. They're draped in the huge robes that the people who occupy this 'holy' land always wear. Of all the possible places to visit, you not only landed in the most heavily fortified part but also the most boring. It was basically just a monastery with a military guarding it.

You're not sure how you're going to reason yourself out of the fact that it very clearly looks like you're trying to escape.

You sharply kick at the guard's knee. It's all you can do. You're not sure if you can take them down, but it's worth a shot-

"Bloody- F- Gah- Do you mind?!"

You recoil visibly at the familiar voice.

"You?" You ask sharply.

The faux-guard pulls their hood down to reveal a familiar face. He looks quite annoyed.

"Actually, my acquaintances call me, O- but yes. It's me.

We made an agreement after all!" he hisses as if this all should be obvious to you.

"You're here," you observe, still quite shocked by the reveal.

He only rolls his eyes.

"Yes. I'm here, just like I promised. Do you really think so little of me?

I told you. When you need saving, I'll be there.

I keep my promises."

Without bothering to ask, he takes a seat on your lap. He sits sideways so the pressure doesn't pinch your thighs- which, all things considered- is quite polite of him.

He reaches down to his injured leg and rubs it with his hand for a moment. He appears to have a previous injury in that leg, and you very clearly haven't helped matters. Either way, once he's chalked up your assault to some bruising, he brushes the injury off.

"No, I'm just surprised," you tell him.

"You didn't think I would save you?" he asks, a little disappointed.

You press your lips together in a neutral expression. Whatever you think of saying, he already knows every word of it.

"I couldn't bet my life on it," you say simply.

He pulls a knife from his pocket and reaches around you to to saw through the tough rope.

"You tried to escape this time," he observes aloud.

You bite your tongue.

Yes, you did- didn't you?

It's interesting, the things you've begun to do ever since you gained someone to share your travels with. Someone who knows what it's like to do all of this. Someone who... knows what it's like to spend it alone, spending every day wondering if you're worth it.

He must hear your thoughts, as per usual, because he can't look you in the eye. He soon stands up again and leads you out.

He doesn't say another word as you return to your separate Tardises and leave.

~

Things get better from there and soon it's a pattern.

You have fun, on your own. You see the sights, you walk the streets, you eat the food. It's quiet, but it's nice not to have anyone else with you to color the world in any other way than it already is.

It's you and the world.

You and your flirts with danger.

You and narrowly escaping the authorities.

You and wondering directly into the jaws of the latest beast- only to be met with the familiar eyes of someone who is no longer a stranger.

"Again?" he asks.

Sometimes he plays dress up, sometimes he simply hypnoses the guards to let him through, but no matter the situation he's always dramatic about it.

Seeing him always brings a smile to your face. It's rare, but it's always familiar. Being 'saved' becomes more of an excuse than a necessity.

There's a learning curve to traveling the universe and before long, you've reached it's peak. You learn what to do, what to say, how to keep yourself safe.

You don't need him anymore, but you're more than willing to let him drop in to 'save' you anytime. It becomes a comfort, to know that even when you mess up, you're worth saving.

Sometimes you're in the middle of taunting a guard who hasn't even arrested you yet and when he shows up to hypnotize the problem away.

And sometimes, he suggests that he'd better stick around for a bit to make sure you stay safe.

And sometimes you recommend the pair of you get food together, and sometimes that meal turns into a walk through the park, and sometimes that walk turns into laying in fields of grass, staring up at the stars, exchanging ideas about the possibilities of this big old universe you find yourselves in.

And sometimes you wonder why this person, who's so kindhearted and protective, so warm and good-humored, keeps you at arms length.

There's something more about him, you suspect. There has to be.

You're willing to bet anything that it's something dark- but he never shows it.

He's different when it comes to you. You're not certain why.

Is it because you can't lie to him? Is it because you're honest with him? Is it because you don't ask, you don't press, you just let him be at your side whenever he chooses?

~

It hits you all at once one day that perhaps this arrangement has become more.

It stays true to its core, to be mutually beneficial and serve in favor both parties personal interests, but that's not all it is anymore.

Without realizing, it's suddenly two parties who mean a great deal to each other. Suddenly, you're choosing to help each other rather than acting in order to receive something in return.

You're not scared of danger anymore. You know how to get out of it now- and even if you can't, you know he'll be there.

You trust that he'll be there.

He's no longer contingency, he's normalcy.

You're never traveling alone because he's always there, in the back of your mind, as you wonder if he might join you should the opportunity arise.

Maybe you should voice this next time you see him.

~

When you run into him, you're offering information- per another strangely specific request- that you obtained from a library in the distant future that your ally may or may not be banned from.

You consider asking why he can't fetch it himself, but you don't. He either offers information or not. One of the rules is that neither of you ask about the others' personal business.

When you arrive at your typical meeting place, his own Tardis is a mess.

It looks... like a cluttered house inside.

The way it's decorated feels very unlike someone like him.

He immediately hugs you as you enter. That's how you know something's wrong.

You catch him rather than hug him. You suddenly feel too sick to remember any of the things you had wanted to tell him.

"What's wrong?" is all you ask softly.

He crumbles.

He remains as elegant and unyielding as always, but it's easy to feel that he's trembling. His breathing shakes and his fingers lock into the fabric of your coat.

It feels like a long time, ages, until he gets out a small sentence.

"I... have to go away for a while."

You're scared to know what that means.

"How long?" You ask tearfully.

"It depends," he breathes quietly.

"On what?"

"If my plan works."

There's a long silence as his words hang heavy in the air.

You don't know what to say.

The rule is that neither of you ask about the others' personal business.

You want to honor that rule but... the way he's acting... it scares you.

He clings to you, his fingers clawing desperately at your sleeves as he hangs his head down low, but he doesn't know what to say either.

Eventually... he decides on a sentence.

"Do you remember... when we first met?" he asks quietly.

You nod.

"How could I forget?" you chuckle warmly in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

He smiles for a split second. It comes and goes in the blink of an eye. He shakes his head and his expression grows darker as if he's scolding himself for something.

He lets go of your clothes and turns away.

"You didn't bother trying to escape on your own. The whole universe at your fingertips and... you didn't know what to do with it.

I could hear your mind- I always can- and that day you... were about to give up fighting."

You look off to the side and let your eyes fall to the floor.

It's true. The whole universe ahead of you and you were nearly too tired to keep living in it.

You don't believe you deserved to find the Tardis anyways.

Who were you to have a doorway to the universe? Who were you to intrude where you didn't belong? You never belong anywhere anyways. That was why you left Earth in the first place.

There was never anywhere you fit. The only way you can justify your existence is by being useful, to the Tardis, and then to your new friend.

On your own... you're no one. Sometimes you wonder why you bother at all.

"What about it?" you ask coldly as you cross your arms.

You don't want to think about that anymore.

The two of you.... Helping each other gives you purpose. It gives you something to keep busy with.

You still felt the way you felt before you knew him sometimes, but you're improving. That has to be worth something.

He looks sad and broken.

You suddenly remember that he can hear every abstract hint of emotion racing through your mind.

"I feel that way too," he confesses.

His words hurt to hear.

He slowly wonders off through the room. There he goes. Keeping you at arms length again.

"It's been fun... but it isn't sustainable. My lifespan is far longer than yours. It's not worth... us hurting each other over something that can't last."

He shakes his head.

"All this time," he begins, "I've been working towards an end. I'm going to make a stand with my best enemy. I'm going to tell her everything I've learned.

I'm going to make it so that she doesn't have another choice.

I'm going to end something that should have never existed. For good."

He sounds determined all of a sudden. His last mission.

He turns to you abruptly.

"I'm telling you this because I won't be able to help you anymore," he says steadily.

You blink at the tears in your eyes.

Oh.

So...

That's what he means.

"I... understand," is all you can say.

There's a long moment of silence and then-

You rush over to hug him. He lifts you up until your toes can barely reach the ground. He holds you tight against him and spins you about as your tears splash onto the shoulder of his coat.

You want to beg him not to go, but you know he's been preparing for this. He's clearly made up his mind. There's nothing you can do to stop him.

And anyways.

He already knows what you're thinking.

"It'll be okay," he promises.

You want to believe him.

You can't.

~

It's quiet now.

Something about it all makes everything else feel quieter.

Everything feels... perhaps distant is the word you're actually looking for.

And you feel tired again. No, apathetic is what you're looking for. As if you can't bring yourself to care about the real world anymore.

You feel like you're back where you started.

You don't know what to do.

You have more than you deserve. You're smarter than you know what to do with. You're more than ever before and yet as powerless as always.

Or...

Maybe not.

You know more now. You can do more now.

You know what you're capable of when you aren't afraid and- as terrified as you are right now- you know what the right thing to do is.

It's time to put everything you've learned to good use. He’s saved your life after all- in far more ways than one. It’s time you return the favor.

~

"Doctor!" the Master shouts as the Doctor abandons him for the latest of countless times.

Why is he surprised anymore?

He should know by now that she always finds a loophole in his foolproof plans. That she always runs from danger. That she always leaves him in the end.

Now some idiot no-one cyberman-resistance soldier has pressed a button to detonate a planet-destroying bomb.

He'll be dead in seconds. Shattered into atoms and quirks and nothingness.

For as much as the Doctor leaves him, the Master simply can't bring himself to leave her. He can't stop chasing her.

Quite soon, he won't have a choice.

This is it. This is what finally pushes him over the edge.

If the Doctor can leave him for dead like this then... she isn't the person he thought she was anymore. He'll finally learn better. He'll finally give up on her.

It was a shame it was too late.

The particle is active.

He runs but... he isn't going to reach his Tardis in time.

He's alone.

~

And then suddenly he's not.

Suddenly he isn't in the crumbling Matrix room anymore. He isn't on Gallifrey at all.

He's standing, safe and sound, being held tight in someone's arms.

He comes to his senses slowly. The seconds don't feel real as they pass. He looks up to see that he's in your Tardis, in your arms, looking up at your face.

"You..." he breathes. He can barely feel reality around him.

"It just took a bit of fancy flying to swoop in, just a second in time, and save you," you smile at him.

He stares in disbelief.

"You came back for me," he says breathlessly.

"Of course I came back for you!" you chuckle. "It's like you're always saying. I promised I would, and I did."

"Saving you is my job!" he replies, still in shock.

"I had to return the favor sometime," you smile.

His face is still locked in an expression of disbelief. He's still processing this.

You decide to make it easier on him.

"How about this:" you suggest with a heavy heart, "we go back to saving each other. To adventures and pastimes and pretending this is nothing more than a profession partnership.

Most importantly, we both take it one day at a time.

And down the road, when we're done, once we've had all our fun, then we'll find out a way to go out in style.

Together."

He contemplates this for a moment.

"You won't be offered a better deal than this," you smirk. "You'd be smart to take it."

He shakes his head.

"No," he says firmly.

Your eyes widen.

"No?" You ask nervously.

The Master takes your hands in his own and laces your fingers together. He moves closer, his face inches from yours.

"No," he repeats. "I don't want to go back to how things were. I want a proper partnership.

You and me and the universe.

I don't know how I didn't see it before."

You laugh warmly as he presses his forehead to yours.

"I'll do it right this time," he promises. "I took care of what I needed to. No one will ever bother us now.

We can..."

His eyes darted about as he searched for the right words.

He held your hands tighter in his own.

"We can go back to saving each other- the universe be damned.

Every day.

For as long as you want," he promises wholeheartedly.

"Whenever you need saving, I'll be there."

Your heart is racing.

It's all you could ever want and more.

He is all you could ever want and more.

You don't need to agree out loud. He already knows. You voice it anyway.

"Okay," you grin.

~

In a strange way, you understand now.

You understand why he saved you.

You learned how to fly this Tardis. You learned how to save your friend from the clutches of death.

You are worth the life you've made for yourself and more.

You deserve to be happy- and you plan to be.

You don't know why you ever believed you didn't.

You have a doorway to anywhere. You have a hand to hold. You have a partner who would burn down every planet in the sky for you.

It's time to go out there and get in trouble and make mistakes. To fight the same old fight against every new day and always emerge triumphant.

And your partner is working on a new project. Something to do with regenerative healing using research he stole from the shambles of his old home.

With any luck, maybe the two of you can travel the universe forever.

~

[hajimewhore]

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 1.6k words  ➷Humor, fluff, awkwardness ofc  ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, ✈Part 2

Thankfully, Hajime’s parents had busied themselves in the morning. Probably out grocery shopping, he’d mentioned off hand.

With Hajime the one blindfolding you now, you can finally place yourself in his shoes, an uneasy humiliation enveloping your bones.

“We can’t exactly dress each other everyday for school, can we?”

You mumble, as Hajime lets you tug the loose tee overhead. It seems he wanted little to do with this dress up game scenario, while simultaneously attempting to save himself from the embarrassment of you catching an eyeful of his junk.

He pulls off the blindfold and stares with an uncomfortable expression and blush. You’ve been doing a lot of blushing today since... well, since you woke up in each other’s bodies.

“I guess not. But I’ll respect your body, don’t worry.”

He huffs, folding his arms across his chest.

A short gasp comes from his lips, clearly not used to having a set of breasts, and he pulls his arms away quicker than you’ve probably ever moved yourself. Hajime awkwardly settles for resting his hands at his hips, and you stifle the snort that threatens to escape.

“I trust you, Hajime. Don’t worry. And same goes for me! I won’t eat junk food before bed, and I’ll work out a lot too!”

You announce while fist pumping the air, and he rolls his eyes.

“You better. Come on, let’s go before my mom and dad get back.”

A lot of changes had to be made to accommodate your... new lifestyle.

You decided it was best to swap phones, considering you each have the same model and should probably be conversing with your classmates and friends with some sort of vague continuity.

You also had a rather short lived and awkward conversation about bathroom time and changing.

And on the way to the park, you discussed the people you each talked with the most in class, how to talk to them, and to take notes properly.

You’re thorough if anything, trying to make this awful situation as easy as you can possibly make it.

“This is exhausting... and we haven’t even gotten to play volleyball yet.”

You bounce the volleyball in the grass, huffing at the torture this body swap is turning out to be.

“At least you can spike, and have a mean serve. It would have been way worse for me if you were a libero.”

At least Hajime is looking on the bright side.

“We just have to get used to our bodies.”

You attempt to reason alongside him, amping each other up.

By the time the sun sets, you’re both panting in the grass next to each other. All former encouragements and hype lost, replaced by the dread of the coming Monday.

“We’re so fucked, I’m not used to being this tall, or having these limbs.”

You wave your arms around in the grass for emphasis, turning to gaze at your partner in this disaster.

“I feel like I’ve been launched back to middle school, it’s hard to get used to being short again.”

Hajime hums in agreement.

“I’m not that short! You’re just tall!”

“Not that tall!”

He grimaces, and you think you hear him mutter something about one more centimeter.

Before you can delve back to wallowing in misery, Hajime speaks up again,

“Whatever, we actually started doing pretty good by the end. It’s not the level we’re usually at, but I’m sure we can fake it in practice well enough. Chalk it up to being sick or something. We’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

Sitting upright, he musters a confident look that warms your chest. You’re glad he’s being optimistic, pushing away the negative thoughts that keep rearing up.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Now let’s get food, I’m starved.”

“Agedashi tofu is the best after practice.”

He’s gleaming, and you think it looks more natural on your face than the stern countenance that seems trademark to Hajime. Though, you do miss the rare occasions you got too see that expression on his normal face... so you make a mental note to take plenty of happy face selfies while you’re in this body.

You can’t help the soft laugh, imagining all the faces you could make in Hajime’s body he wouldn’t be caught dead making normally. When he eyes you warily, you shake your head and respond before he catches on to your plan.

“The katsudon here is way better, you’re crazy.”

You grin, mouth watering as you bring a pork cutlet to your lips.

When you bite in, it turns out to be less satisfying than you remembered. 

‘Weird, this place has really good katsudon.’

When you peer over at Hajime, he seems to be sharing a similar dilemma.

“How is it?”

You tilt your head up, gazing cautiously at him.

“It’s... okay.”

He frowns, can he seriously not enjoy agedashi tofu right now? Or was it just made bad?

“Right. Same here.”

The two of you pause, stewing for a second at the disappointment of your favorite meals, before both having the same idea to swap plates.

When you bite into your newly swapped dishes, you both simultaneously break out into wide grins.

“Whaaat, this is so good!”

“’katsudon’s not so bad either.”

You burst out into laughter, 

“I guess our tastes have been swapped too.”

“I was beginning to think this would just be a nightmare. But there’s some fun things involved.”

Hajime hums, taking another hearty bite from the katsudon. You smile at his enthusiasm, before returning to your dish.

 You continue to idly chatter about things that might be important to know, before walking home together.

When you reach the end of the street, Hajime almost makes the mistake of turning to the Iwaizumi residence. When he freezes, you realize you were equally ready to freely waltz into your own house.

You both awkwardly switch sides on the sidewalk, silently acknowledging the blunder with a light laugh.

“I’ll text you if I think of anything else. Have a good night,” you pause, “Y/N!” 

You wink at him, chuckling at the sour expression. If you thought referring to yourself as Hajime was weird, it’s even more unsettling to call yourself by name.

Hajime rolls his eyes before waving goodbye.

“Yeah yeah... Hajime. See you tomorrow.”

The interaction certainly is odd, but you laugh with a grin nonetheless. Despite the fucked up situation, it’s kind of cool to have a secret to share with Hajime.

You just hope it isn’t permanent.

When Hajime turns to the your household, he feels the nervousness come back full force.

The two of you spent all day with each other, not really worried about a stranger’s perception of them.

But now he has to deal with the people closest to you, your parents. And he’s actually quite fond of your parents, they’ve always treated him like the son they never had (as well as Oikawa), but he’s not exactly looking forward to living out their wish for a son vicariously through you.

He swings open the door, kicking his shoes off before stepping inside.

“I’m home!”

‘Remember to be enthusiastic, and keep that RBF in check!’ he hears your insistent reminder echo in his mind, almost catching himself scowling.

“Welcome back darling! Did you eat?”

He hears your mother’s voice from the kitchen.

“I had something to eat with Hajime.”

He sweats a little, your mom is oddly calculated, always in tune with your emotions. Sometimes even his, but there’s no way she’d figure out what was going on, right?

“Good. If you get hungry later, there’s left overs.”

He calls out a thanks, almost sighing in relief, looks like the panic was for nothing. 

Hajime casually (yet so, so, eagerly) heads for the stairs.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to say hi to Tooru? He and his mother came for dinner!”

WHAT.

“Y/N-chan! You and Iwa-chan were hanging out today? We’re you practicing volleyball?”

As if on cue, Oikawa rounds the corner and cuts Hajime off at the stairs, eyeing the athletic attire he’s wearing,

“I have something I want to practice more, you should’ve texted me.”

He huffs, arms folded as he leans against the stairway’s frame. Clearly a trick, Oikawa blew up both of your phones all day long despite being told you were busy. Hajime resists the urge to scowl at the backhanded comment. Brat.

Wait a second... how exactly do you talk to Oikawa again? Hajime should know, he’s spent a majority of his life with the two of you, but he’s currently drawing blanks.

He seems to have wracked his brain a little too long for a normal interaction, as Oikawa’s eyeing him again with an inquisitive look.

“Sorry... Tooru. You were sleeping in, and we both just happened to wake up early. Besides, you shouldn’t be practicing so much.”

He’s glad he didn’t let the ‘Shittykawa’ slip, that wouldn’t have been on brand for you at all. Out of habit though, he did punch Tooru in the arm.

“Yow! So mean, why are you hitting me?!”

Oikawa cries out, looking utterly scandalized as he rubs the sore spot on his arm.

“Because you deserve it.”

Hajime rolls his eyes, hopefully you won’t become aware of this interaction or he’ll get an earful from you. He’s still slightly convinced he’s an innocent bystander affected by some sort of cosmic punishment on Oikawa Tooru.

“Are you mad at me?!”

Hajime ignores Oikawa’s cry of complaint, jogging up the stairs. It’s hard being you, he grimaces as he beelines for the safety your room.

Finally in the comfort of privacy, he collapses into your sheets with a sigh of relief.

It could barely be considered a conversation with your mother, and Oikawa, but he’s already feeling mentally exhausted from the social exchange.

And tomorrow marks the start of the school week. Great.

Hajime slumps into your absurd amount pillows (seriously, you only need one). If he feels a little disappointed that he can’t recognize your scent anymore, he certainly doesn’t admit it, and definitely doesn’t entertain the intrusive thought longer than a moment.

A/N: I’m actually having so much fun with this au it’s adsklag;hj, I just like to watch my faves suffer in a chaotic mess I can not lie

Masterlist, Part 1, ✈Part 2, Part 3​

[procrastinatorimagines]

Okay Part 4

Fandom: One Chicago

Series: Okay

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 (Final)

Pairing: Halstead!Reader x Casey (eventually)

Warning/s: talk of death, arson, burns

Word Count: 1,722

Summary:  After narrowly escaping certain death you decided to turn your life around and become a firefighter, and although it wasn’t easy, you survived your first week at 51. Now, the strange circumstances of your very first fire lead you to a second, deadlier act. As you dig deeper, aided by your brothers and your new firehouse, you begin to realise just how in over your head you might be.

Tags: @alievans007​ // @louiselikeswriting

Jay was waiting for you as you and Casey pulled up outside of the hospital, heart pounding in your chest as you rushed out of the car towards him, mind racing. You weren’t at all surprised that Will had called him as well; someone was deliberately targeting this family. 

“Where are they?” You asked as you reached him, all three of you heading into Med together as Jay explained the situation. He looked tired, and frustrated, and you knew your brother well enough to know that he was angry with himself for not being able to do more in the beginning to help this case.

“Lily’s upstairs, she’s burned pretty bad on her arm but other than that, Will says that she’s going to be okay, they have her upstairs for observation, she took in smoke,” he explained and you swallowed hard, that little girl had just lost her mother and had barely made it out of her second fire in a week, she was anything but okay.

“What about the friend?” Matt asked, the look on Jay’s face being enough of an answer. 

He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “She didn’t make it, lost her soon after Will called you,” he told you, watching the look of horror you shared with Matt as you all got into the elevator. 

“Do we have, anything?” You gestured in the air with your arms, voice shaking with the same frustration you’d seen in your brother only moments before. As much as it horrified you, you knew that this wasn’t over. The mother hadn’t been home when the first fire was set, and Lily had been put somewhere she couldn’t escape, and now this fire... Someone was trying to kill this child, burn her alive. Who would do such a thing?

“The friend gave us something in the ambo, a black dodge charger drove the block a couple of times throughout the day, only stopped once just before the fire started,” Jay informed you. 

“License plate?” Matt asked, but you knew that it would be too good to be true before Jay even answered.

“Not yet, but we’re canvasing and checking cameras around the area,” he tried his best to sound optimistic, but you could tell it was waring thin.

Your blood was boiling as you got to the PICU, your hands in fists as Jay flagged down Will and Nat. Boden was there too, you realised, talking in hushed tones with Goodwin off to one side.

Matt and Boden shared an acknowledging nod before squeezing your shoulder, offering you a reassuring smile before heading off to talk to the chief. You headed straight for your brothers and Nat, trying your best to take some calming breaths. Getting worked up wouldn’t help Lily.

“Glad you made it,” Will said, following your eyes to where they landed on Lily in a room off to the left. 

“Where else would I be?” Lily was lying in the hospital bed, left arm bandaged up and the right maintaining a death grip on the stuffed bear you’d first found her with. Her hair had been burned too, currently in choppy and mismatched lengths, and with her white hospital gown she looked like a ghost.

Your heart was breaking as you watched her, only half listening to Will and Nat discuss her condition and situation. DCFS had been called obviously, but she hadn’t spoken to anyone and she wasn’t in a state to be discharged yet, not that they knew who to discharge her too at the moment. If she really was the target - who would she be safe with?

The conversation going on around you was probably one you should have been listening to intently, but you zoned out more and more as you watched Lily, barely blinking as she stared a head of her, softly crying to herself. She looked in shock, unsurprisingly. 

You still hadn’t gotten over the trauma of your first brush with death, the suffocating heat and blind panic woke you up in the middle of the night, panting and sweating, so tangled in your own sheets that it felt like you were tied up again. But you were a grown woman, and Lily was a 7 year old girl who, on top of now surviving two fires, had just lost her mom. 

Before you realised it, you’d gravitated away from the conversation towards the door to Lily’s room. The others didn’t stop you, no one else had had any luck getting her to talk but you thought that you might, remembering the way she’d clung to you during the first fire. 

She looked up when you knocked, looking even smaller than you remembered, and although she didn’t say you could enter, she didn’t tell you to leave either, so you slowly made your way inside, offering her a small smile and sympathetic eyes.  

“Hey Lily,” you greeted her, talking and moving slowly so as not to scare her, “do you mind if I sit?” You gestured to the end of the bed and although she still didn’t say anything, her eyes continued to follow you and she curled her legs under herself to give you more room. Sitting, you watched her carefully, her frightened movements, hollow and distant eyes, shallow breathing... 

You wanted to pull her into a hug, wrap her in your arms and keep her safe from the world. She didn’t deserve this, and whoever had done this wasn’t going to get away with it, you’d make sure.

“Do you remember me Lily? I’m Y/N.” You tried, her chin tilting a little in a slight nod. 

“Found me...” she managed to mumble, her voice tiny and hoarse. It was the first time you’d really heard her speak, her bottom lip trembling as she did.

You saw the door open out the corner of your eye and Matt slid in, smiling softly as he took a seat next to you on the bed. Lily didn’t object, she actually looked a little less afraid, definitely recognising the both of you.

“Hey Lily,” Matt said, “how are you feeling?” He was good with kids, you’d seen it in the few calls you’d been on involving children so far, and Lily seemed to visibly relax in his presence. 

“My arm feels funny,” she told you both, looking to the bandages on her burned arm. She must have been on some kind of painkillers, you realised, which might explain why she was still a little out of it.

“How about teddy? I don’t think I caught her name the first time we met,” Casey leaned over you slightly and bopped the bear on the nose. Lily gave the faintest smile, but it was something as Matt leaned back, still very close to you as you both tried to sit on the bed and give Lily her space.

“His name’s Matty Bear,” she hugged the bear closer to her, pulling it right up to her cheek. 

Matt grinned at the name, “you know, my name’s Matt too.” The little light that came back into her eyes warmed your heart as your eyes flicked between her and Matt.

“Really?” She asked, her voice getting a little louder and more confident. Matt nodded and she smiled, satisfied with his answer.

“My mommy gave her to me,” she explained, “do you know when she’s coming to get me?”

Your face fell and you turned to Matt, watching the smile disappear from his face. She had been told, you’d heard Will say that much at least.

“This sometimes happens in shock,” Matt whispered to you, “it’s probably best not to upset her now, she needs her sleep.” You knew he was right, but it was still hard to hear, this whole thing was hard. 

You did your best to plaster on a smile as you stood with Matt. “You know what? I’m not sure, how about we go check and you can get some rest okay?” You suggested, squeezing her leg as she nodded, eyes already fluttering closed as Matt held the door open for you looking glum.

When the door was closed you too a deep breath, meeting Jay and Will in the hall. “Did she give you anything?” Jay asked but you shook your head.

“She needs rest,” Matt told him and Will very much agreed.

“I don’t want to leave her,” you said to no one in particular.

“I know, but we have shift in the morning and you need to get at least some sleep,” Matt advised. You knew he was right, but still, you knew you weren’t going to sleep anyway.

“I’ll leave an officer with her just in case, and I spoke to Boden before he left, we’ll head to both crime scenes again tomorrow, go over everything step by step, hopefully we’ll have a lead on this charger by then too,” Jay told you, patting you on the arm as he left to answer his phone.

“And I’ll keep an eye on her tonight,” Will promised, leaving you with Matt, who was regarding you cautiously again. You knew why, while this wasn’t by any means a typical case, Matt had been doing this job a lot longer than you, and he was the only one who’d seen your panic attack during the first fire.

In all the commotion of this case, you weren’t even sure if he’d told Boden or anyone else about it or not, and you certainly hadn’t talked about it again, but you knew he was thinking about it now.

“I’m okay,” you insisted, standing up a little straighter.

“No you’re not, and I don’t expect you to be, I’m not okay Y/N,” Matt said, meeting the defensiveness in your eyes. “How about we go see Lily during shift tomorrow? If not, we can both go straight after, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, grateful that Matt was facing this case with the same energy as you. 

“Now come on, I’ll drive you home,” he put a hand on your shoulder in comfort and support as you wandered back towards the elevator. 

You were exhausted, and you knew your shift tomorrow was going to be long, but you were determined; someone had tried to kill this little girl twice now, and you weren’t going to let it get to a third.

[pines-troz]

Weekend With The Warners Chapter Six - Animaniacs & Pinky and The Brain

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Word Count: 10,710

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/71433888

Pinky honored Brain’s request by resuming the planned family activities to occupy Yakko and Wakko. The mouse rode upon Wakko’s red cap as they neared the movie theater. His light blue eyes lit up the moment he saw the movie titles on the marquee along with the various movie posters displayed across the side of the building. 

Everyone loved going to the movies! What could be a better way to spend an afternoon than to sit in a dark room with other strangers, munching on expensive snacks, and getting emotionally invested in a movie for two hours? He was especially looking forward to watching a movie about the Furbies! Pinky hoped that this family friendly-animated movie featuring the controversial 90s toys would follow the same beats as other recent animated movies from the past decade: A buddy road-trip journey with a surprise villain twist in the third act (which always shocked him every time!), and all the characters throwing a big dance party at the end to the tune of a contemporary pop song. Pinky would always get up on his feet and dance with the characters on the screen. While Brain would always shield his face at the sight of his enthusiasm, he had a strong feeling that Yakko and Wakko would be more than happy to dance with him before the credits rolled. 

Oh, he and the siblings were going to have such a fun-fun silly-willy time!

Wakko carried Pinky on top of their red hat, zooming around the front of the theater like an airplane. With their tongue lolled out, he blew a raspberry to imitate the sound of a plane soaring through the air. He was eager to go to the movies with Yakko and Dad. Even though it would have been better if Dot and Dadoo accompanied them, Wakko learned from their wisened experiences as a middle child that he couldn’t get what he always wanted and had to accept compromise. But he was willing to make the most out of the afternoon for Dot’s sake. Looking on the bright side of things, the middle child was eager to lounge in the comfy leather reclinable chair while chowing down on the various snacks. Buttered popcorn, cheesy nachos, hot dogs, candies, and a large cup of Abyss Boy soda! But he’ll remember not to consume the entire soda all at once. The last thing he wanted was to have another potty emergency on their hands. Regardless, Wakko couldn’t wait to satisfy their appetite for movie theater food! 

Yakko cautiously trailed behind Wakko and Pinky, masking his worry with a small smile. The normally laid-back smart aleck was glum over Dot’s health. Of course, part of being a responsible older brother was being the main caregiver for his siblings’ needs. And Yakko took pride in tending to Wakko and Dots’ needs, especially if they felt under the weather. The eldest Warner couldn’t shake off the bewildering fact that Dot was being cared for by a good friend, who successfully proved himself to be a competent caretaker, while he and Wakko walked about as if nothing happened. If his sister wasn’t so insistent on going to the movies for her sake, then he would be back at the hotel room tending to her needs like the caring sibling he was. But as a responsible older brother, Yakko kept his word. But going to the movies just wouldn’t be the same without her. He missed having his nacho buddy right by his side. 

The eldest Warner was pulled out of his thoughts the moment he felt his phone vibrate. He fished his phone from his pocket and he noticed the reassuring text message from Brain. 

I commend your concern for your younger sister. Dot is taking a much-needed nap at the moment and she will be okay. : )

Yakko softly smiled at the good news. He was thankful for the mouse’s swift response as well as the contents of the message. “Dot’s fine under Brain’s care…” He reminded himself. He looked over at Wakko and Pinky, who seemed to make the most of their situation as they conversed in their typical eager fashion, almost as if nothing had gone wrong. 

“I’m gonna buy so many snacks!” Wakko exclaimed, flapping their arms excitedly. 

“Troz! And I’ll get to swim in the bucket of popcorn!” Pinky added with an equal amount of enthusiasm. 

Yakko tried to conceal his concern with a small smile and a chuckle. “Yeah, it’s gonna be fun!” He lied with convincing enthusiasm. 

However, Pinky managed to catch a glimpse of sadness behind the Warner Brother’s eyes. His big goofy smile faltered. The idea that Yakko was trying to hide something that was hurting him made Pinky’s tummy feel all tight, but not in a good way. But Pinky was determined to alleviate the teen’s woes. 

“Is something wrong, Yakko?” The tall mouse asked concernedly. 

Yakko gave a surprised expression before shrugging it off. “Oh, it’s nothing,” The teen replied, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

Pinky pondered for a moment. He took his paw and rubbed the bottom of his chin as he thought, but snapped his fingers as he figured it out. “Well, I don’t know how to get rid of the nothing that’s bothering you, but I’m sure that the movie might take your mind off of it. Narf!” He explained optimistically. 

Yakko looked at the mouse who took his problems quite literally and shook his head. 

“No no no,” The oldest Warner dismissed while waving his arms. He looked back at Pinky, who cocked his head sideways and stared back at him with concern pooling from his blue eyes. There was something in the mouse’s eyes that compelled Yakko to tell the truth. “Well, it’s just that it feels wrong to go to the movies without Dot, ya know?” He confessed. 

Pinky and Wakko gazed concernedly at Yakko, who continued to speak up. “I mean, who else am I gonna share my tray of nachos with?” 

Wakko wordlessly raised their hand, but Yakko stared at them with skeptical eyes and crossed his arms. “Wakko, you’ll just consume the entire tray.” He interjected with a deadpan expression. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right...” Wakko glumly admitted as he lowered their hand. 

“And I don’t feel like I should be watching a movie when I should be back at the hotel taking care of my little sis.” The eldest Warner mentioned. 

Pinky’s eyes widened. “So that's what Yakko was worried about!” He pondered to himself. Even though Dot’s absence was sorely felt by the three of them, it wasn’t the end of the world because Brain was currently tending to her every need. The lanky mouse knew how to comfort Yakko. 

“We all miss Dot, but you don’t have to worry because Brain’s taking great care of her!” Pinky reminded him with a reassuring smile. “And I would know since he always takes great care of me!”

“He does?” Wakko asked curiously, tilting his head like an adorable puppy. 

“Of course! Brain always makes me thimbles of nice hot tea whenever I get sick and patches me up whenever I get the owies after a failed plan to take over the world! Zort!” The mouse confidently explained. “And if Brain can take great care of me, he’ll take great care of Dot!” 

Wakko believed in Pinky’s word. While he felt bad for Dot, he knew that their sister was in good hands. The middle child turned to face their older brother. “See, Dot’s gonna be fine!” He emphasized. “And besides, she commanded you to have fun just before we left the hotel room!” 

“Yeah, I know…” Yakko muttered, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Don’t you trust Brain?” Pinky softly inquired. 

Yakko was surprised by the mouse’s question. “Of course I do! I wasn’t implying that I didn’t. It’s just…” The eldest Warner stared at Pinky, whose blue eyes seemed to pierce his very soul, prompting him to demolish the barriers he built around his emotions. “Well, it’s really hard to ignore my big brother instincts, ya know?” He finally confessed. “Not to mention how weird it is to have someone else do my job.” 

Wakko walked over to their older brother and gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. “But Pinky and The Brain have been taking care of us all weekend! They take us out for food, tell us bedtime stories, and give us goodnight kisses,” He reminded their older brother, with Pinky silently nodding. “They’re our dads, remember?” 

“Dads?” Yakko quizzically repeated with a surprised look on his face.

Wakko’s face contorted into a worrisome frown. He thought that Yakko would already be on board with the mice becoming their parents, but apparently, that was not the case. “Well yeah. 

Didn’t you hear me say ‘goodnight mouse dads’ last night?”

“No, he was fast asleep when you said that,” Pinky told the middle child. 

Yakko stared at his sibling with a befuddled expression. In any other circumstance, Wakko would only use the words like ‘dad’ or ‘dadoo’ when he was messing with their special friend of the week. But there was an undeniable sincerity in Wakko’s voice when he referred to the mice as their parents. And considering how well the rodents have been taking care of them, the thought of them being parents was a nice idea. Pinky would always dote on him and his siblings and be incredibly supportive of them. Plus having constant praise and validation from the silly mouse is exactly what Yakko needed to combat his anxiety and self-worth issues. And despite his grumpiness and stern nature, Brain proved to be an excellent caretaker. The big-headed mouse was incredibly protective of him and his siblings and even humored them by indulging in their childish requests. Both mice were a pleasure to be around and they were decent guardians who looked out for them and deeply cared about them. They seemed like the perfect parents to have. 

But Yakko felt his big brother instincts and anxiety nagging at him. He was taking good care of his sibs for decades without any intervention from any adults from the outside world. He was the sole caretaker of his siblings when the human adults at the Warner Bros. Studio thought they were too dangerous to be allowed in society and locked them away in the water tower like dogs at the pound. Even though Yakko admittedly believed that he could have benefitted from positive adult figures during those years in captivity, he managed to pull it off on his own. Taking care of his sibs was one of the things he was great at!

Now that Wakko adopted Pinky and Brain as their dads, Yakko feared that the mice would usurp his role as caretaker and would be rendered useless. What kind of big brother would he be if his role of nurturing provider, the one job he took the most pride in, was taken from him? 

“Come on Wakko, don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just start referring to our friends as our parents.” Yakko scoffed as he circled his right hand in the air. 

But Wakko took offense to their brother’s statement. “What’s his deal?” He thought as he gritted their teeth and flashed their fangs. 

Wakko felt their eyes start to water as he curled their hands into fists and stomped on the ground. “Is that any way to talk to your dad!” Wakko shouted, gesturing towards Pinky.

Yakko was taken aback when he saw the tears forming in the corners of Wakko’s eyes. He didn’t mean to hurt their feelings. “Wakko-” 

But before he could say anything else, Pinky interceded when he hopped down from Wakko’s hat and stood between the siblings. “Stop the fighting, please!” He pleaded with his watery blue eyes. “My heart breaks at the sight of sibling rivalries!” 

Yakko looked at the buck-toothed mouse, overwhelmed with guilt. They were supposed to be having a fun time at the movies on Dot’s behalf, but the only things he accomplished were quarreling with Wakko and making Pinky cry. “Well, this is just great,” 

The eldest Warner released a heavy sigh, shoved his hands in his pocket, and walked away from his sibling and mousey guardian. He slumped onto the bench and placed his head in his hands. Taking deep breaths, he dwelled over the scuffle. Sure he would eventually patch things up with Wakko, but he thought about Pinky. That poor innocent bundle of joy who loved almost everyone and everything in this world. And he made the little guy cry his little heart out. Yakko assumed that it would take a while longer for the mouse to forgive him after what he did. 

“Poit!” Pinky softly spoke up. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Yakko lifted his head to find Pinky sitting on Wakko’s red hat. The two looked at him with worried expressions on their faces. Perhaps now was the time to set things right. 

Yakko thought about what he wanted to say, took a deep breath, and exhaled. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, fellas.” He ruefully apologized. He took a moment to gather his courage before confessing one of his biggest fears. “It’s just that...well, I’m used to taking care of my sibs.” 

Wakko wordlessly nodded in understanding. He remembered all the times Yakko took great strides to make sure he and Dot were provided for when they were stuck in the water tower and afterward. Making them meals, entertaining them with his jokes, schooling them with his educational songs, and telling stories before bedtime. Wakko knew that Yakko took a lot of pride in his role as the responsible eldest sibling. 

Yakko looked at his sibling and the tall mouse as he continued to speak. “And while I trust Brain to watch over Dot, I never had anyone else take care of her in my place before. And I can’t help but feel so…” He struggled to get the word out from his throat, but managed to let out a defeated sigh.

“useless…” 

Wakko stared at their brother with somber eyes. He could relate to feeling left out. Especially since his U.S. Capital's Song or The Great Wakkorotti didn’t stack up against Yakko’s Nations of the World or Dot’s Poetry Corner. The last thing he wanted was for their older brother to feel the same way. 

“Now that’s just not true,” He thought determinedly. Yakko was many things: funny, talkative, boisterous, clever, sometimes annoying, charismatic, and musically-inclined. But never in all of his years did Wakko describe their older brother as useless. Far from it! Yakko simply needed to be reminded of how important he was. 

Wakko sprinted over to Yakko and catapulted himself onto the bench. With open arms, he gave their brother the biggest hug possible. Yakko felt his eyes start to water as he was immersed in his sibling’s warm and affectionate embrace. 

“You’re not useless, big brother,” The middle child assured as he gently rubbed their right hand up and down their brother’s back. “You’re one of the best people I know!”

Yakko blinked away the tears as he heard his sibling’s adamant praise. 

“And besides, who else can come up with catchy songs about the universe or multiplication?” Wakko added with a playful smile. 

Yakko let out a hearty chuckle. Touched by Wakko’s sincerity, he wrapped his arms around his sibling, pulling them close. “Aw, thanks baby sib.” 

“Anytime, bro,” Wakko replied, giving him a couple of pats on the back. 

Pinky was still perched on Wakko’s hat, watching the loving moment play out through tearful eyes. Their reconciliation played out just like those Hallmark Movie Channel films where the leads made up after their third-act breakup and gave each other warm hugs. But instead of conventionally attractive white couples, it was two toon siblings who fiercely loved in that strong familial way, which was a hundred times better! Oh, how he loved seeing family members make amends! 

When the siblings slowly released themselves from the hug, Pinky hopped down and went over to Yakko’s knee to let him know just how special he was. “Feeling better, love?” The mouse kindly inquired while gently patting his knee. 

Yakko looked at Pinky, who was comforting him like a parent soothing their child. The eldest Warner focused on the mouse’s soft blue eyes. There was not a single trace of malice or anger to be found. Only pure, unconditional love radiated from those eyes. 

After spending decades locked away in the water tower and ignored by the workers in the studio lot, all Yakko ever wanted was attention. He craved any type of reaction from other people, whether it be good or bad. He could make people laugh or irritate them past their limits. Just as long as he received some sort of response, he was content. But as Yakko continued to stare into Pinky’s gentle eyes, he was reminded that the best type of attention was love. Not the romantic type or the adoration from viewers, but familial love. Yakko forged a strong brotherly affection for Wakko and Dot, who equally loved their big bro. Perhaps, he was willing to allow Pinky, and even Brain, to love him and his siblings like the good parents they set themselves up to be. 

“Yeah, I’m feeling better now,” He assured the mouse. But there was something else nagging at him that he wanted to address. “But there’s something I gotta ask you, Pinky. Do you see yourself as our dad?”

Pinky did not hesitate to answer. “I do, but I could be your mum if that makes you more comfortable!” 

Yakko softly chuckled. “I really appreciate you looking out for us, but I need some time to really think about this.” 

Pinky gave the teen a gentle smile as he patted his knee once more. “Poit! That’s alright, take all the time that you need.” 

With a sigh of relief, Yakko was grateful that Pinky didn’t try to rush things through and respected his feelings. If the rest of the weekend went by this smoothly, maybe he would have no issue with referring to the mice as his new dads. 

Wakko looked at the two and decided to change the subject. “You know what, I don’t feel like going to the movies either.” 

Yakko was surprised by what he just heard. “You don’t?”

“Sure! If you don’t wanna go to the movies, then neither do I.” He affirmed. 

“Are you sure?” Yakko asked. He didn’t want to make Wakko feel like he had to make a sacrifice for his sake. 

Wakko gave a confident nod. “We can always go to the movies some other time.” He insisted. “And as a middle child, I’m used to making compromises.” 

The eldest Warner was relieved by his sibling’s astute answer and playfully ruffled their red cap. But with the movies now crossed off their planned schedule, he was uncertain of what he, Wakko, and Pinky should do to pass the time. “Now the only question left is what ways could we have fun outside of the hotel room?” Yakko pondered aloud. He brought himself into a thinking pose, propping his elbow onto his arm which was draped across his lap, and scratching his chin. Wakko sat down next to their brother and immediately copied his pose. 

Pinky pondered as well. Deep in his thoughts, he looked at Yakko and Wakko, who fused into a rocket ship and opened up the ship’s hatch. Pinky immediately hopped inside to find Yakko and Wakko dressed in Star Trek uniforms. The lanky mouse looked down to find himself wearing a fetching red dress uniform from the original series. Yakko pressed a red button and they blasted off the bench and zoomed through the city skyline. Inside the ship, Pinky noticed a big sack full of toys and goodies. The ship crashed through a window, landing in the hotel room. Dot was dressed in an elegant nightgown and a purple fluffy boa draped over her shoulders while Brain, who now had long blonde hair, was dressed in a buttoned-down white satin shirt and black leather pants. The chubby mouse bit on a red rose as he read his book on world history. Dot and Brain were shocked by the sight of the rocket ship. The hatch opened, and the giant bag was pushed through the door and landed in the middle of the room. Yakko, Wakko, and Pinky emerged from the spacecraft and opened up the sack full of goodies. The Warners played with the various toys and games while Brain seductively winked at Pinky and tossed the rose. Pinky managed to catch it with his tail and blushed at his partner’s romantic gesture. Brain immediately wrapped his arm around Pinky’s waist and pulled him in for a sweeping kiss. 

Pinky sighed as he was brought back to the real world. He had the most splendid idea and he couldn’t wait to share it with the Warners. 

“Who says that we could only have fun outside?” The lanky mouse asked. 

Wakko gave the mouse an incredulous look. “What do you mean?” 

“Maybe we could bring all the fun inside the hotel room instead!” Pinky exclaimed. 

Yakko and Wakko thought this through and grinned at the suggestion of bringing the fun back to the hotel room and including Dot and Brain in their activities. After all, she only wanted Yakko and Wakko to have fun but didn’t specify where they could have fun. 

“That’s brilliant Pinky!” Yakko complimented. “Maybe we could do some fun arts and crafts projects!” 

“Or play board games! And buy lots of snacks!” Wakko eagerly added. 

“Or purple: all of the above!” Pinky cheered. 

The three of them bounced off of the bench, excited to bring some much-needed fun to Dot and Brain. Pinky tugged at Wakko’s sweater sleeve, prompting the middle child to place the mouse back on top of their cap. 

“We could go to the mall and purchase some supplies for today’s activities!” Pinky explained as he pulled out the gold credit card from his pocket. 

“Well let’s hop to it!” Yakko declared. He broke off into a sprint, with Wakko running on all fours to keep up with their brother’s pace. Pinky laughed joyfully as he held onto the middle child’s red hat. 

-                  -                   -                       -                       - 

Back in the hotel room, Brain was silently reading Heidi while Dot was fast asleep in the other bed. The smaller mouse took another glimpse at the snoozing Warner sister. He had to admit that she was quite adorable. Hopefully, the girl would be on the mend by the time she woke up.

The small mouse let out a blissful sigh. After dealing with the hectic antics of the boisterous Warner siblings, it was nice to have a moment of peace and quiet. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to develop a brilliant plan for world domination! 

Brain closed his book and quickly retrieved his journal and pens from his pocket. He was determined to devise a fool-proof scheme just in case his previously crafted giant robot plan backfired. Now the question was what could he do? Cradling the pen in his hands, he began to ponder the many ways he could ascend to power. 

Create a mind-control app? Start a pop culture-themed podcast and send out subliminal messages during the ad-breaks? Start a TikTok trend that encourages participants to obey him? Blackmail Elon Musk? Promote an enticing convention and swindle money from con attendees? Stage an elaborate heist in the Mar-a-Lago Club? Build a drone to harass the politicians in Washington D.C.? 

Oh, the possibilities were endless!

But his ears twitched upwards when he heard the door open. Pinky, Yakko, and Wakko returned to the hotel room, each carrying multiple bulk plastic bags filled with who knows what. As the three entered, Brain immediately shushed them, placing his index finger close to his mouth. Once he got their attention, he gestured towards Dot. 

“Right-o!” Pinky whispered, giving his partner a thumbs up. Yakko and Wakko immediately did what they were told and tip-toed quietly into the room. 

Yakko looked over at his sister, slept serenely in bed. He was quick to notice her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. Overcome with relief, the eldest Warner smiled. Dot was okay. 

He looked over at Brain, who was putting away his novel and felt a pang of guilt for doubting him. 

“Hey Brain,” Yakko addressed the big-headed mouse. “Thanks for watching over Dot.” 

Brain smiled at the Warner brother. “You’re welcome.” He said. “And judging from your text, it’s quite obvious how lucky she is to have older siblings who love her dearly.” 

Yakko smiled back, feeling touched by the praise. Wakko carefully patted his back. 

“Hi, Dadoo!” Wakko happily greeted Brain. 

The smaller mouse tilted his head in confusion at first. But then he remembered Wakko referring to him and Pinky as their dads last night and assumed that dadoo was just a unique term of endearment. “Greetings Wakko.” Brain replied with a small wave. “So how was the movie?”

“Oh, we didn’t go to the movies,” Wakko answered.

“You didn’t?” Brain inquired. “Then where pray tell, did you three go?” 

“We just came back from the mall,” Pinky reported. “Yakko and Wakko came up with these fun ideas of activities we could do instead, so we all decided to have a fun-fun, silly-willy day in the hotel room!”

“We figured that we’ll take it easy for today,” Yakko said. 

Yakko and Wakko took out some of the contents from the bags, such as materials for arts and crafts, Jenga, Connect Four, and Chutes and Ladders. Pinky also took out a few items from the bag. 

Pinky brought a few packages for Brain. “Here, I bought these just for you. Troz!” 

Brain opened up the bag to find over a dozen packages of doll clothes. The mouse marveled at various suit jackets, coats, sweaters, pants, and royal outfits Pinky purchased for him. His beau remembered his fashion preferences and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“I remembered what you said about making as many extrapolate purchases as possible. So that’s what I did!” The taller mouse explained. 

Brain was so flattered by Pinky’s memory that he didn’t even bother to correct his poor vocabulary.  “Why Pinky, I’m touched by this kind gesture.” He said graciously. 

“Aww Brain,” Pinky cooed. 

“I’m going to get started on my next graphic novel!” Wakko declared as he took out one of their library books from the book bag. 

Yakko also retrieved his book on European architecture from the bag and sat cross-legged on the ground. He took one of the bags and dumped out its contents. Packages of popsicle sticks and various bottles of glue sprawled across the floor. The teen opened up the package and carefully took out the popsicle sticks and began assembling his latest crafts project.

Brain couldn’t help but notice the eldest Warner’s determined look as he began gluing the popsicle sticks in a large circle while using his library book as a reference. The mouse was fascinated by this development and walked over to the teen. “So, uh what are you up to?” The pudgy mouse politely asked. 

“Oh, I’m building a popsicle stick model of The Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris.” Yakko casually explained. “I read about it in my library book on European architecture.” 

“Ah, le Sacré-Coeur de Montmartre.” Brain blissfully sighed. The mouse was impressed with the oldest Warner’s excitement for recreating the iconic church. “Would you like any assistance?”

“Sure!” Yakko answered enthusiastically. 

The mouse was pleased with the thought of being included in a wholesome crafts project. Brain took out a few popsicle sticks and collaborated with the Warner brother in companionable silence. 

As they built their model cathedral constructed from popsicle sticks, Yakko continued to muse over the idea of the mice becoming new additions to their little family. Pinky constantly doting on them, showering them with praise and gifts. 

Brain, on the other hand, was a grump who could be stern at times but was ultimately a softie who had their best interests in mind. Yakko loved to tease the serious mouse whenever he had the opportunity, but he also loved to share his educational pursuits with him, knowing that the intellectual would appreciate it. 

He also took Pinky and Brain’s short stature into consideration. Since they were small mice, Yakko and his sibs could cause as much chaos as possible and they would have some challenges keeping up with their silly antics. 

There was a lot of untapped potential in allowing the rodents into their everyday lives, and Yakko couldn’t help but ponder the possibilities. 

But the teen lost his train of thought when he heard a soft mumbling from the bed. Wakko, Pinky, and Brain also stopped what they were doing and turned their attention towards Dot, who roused from her sleep. Stretching her arms, the Warner sister fluttered her eyes and slowly got up into a sitting position on the bed. 

Yakko was the first to notice his sister getting up and smiled. “Great to have you back, Lazarus.” He joked. Dot couldn’t help but snicker at her brother’s quip. Yakko decided to ask a more serious question. “You feeling better sis?” 

“Yeah.” She answered. “How long was I asleep?” 

“About a couple of weeks, give or take,” Pinky answered with a shrug. 

“Pinky!” Brain berated his partner. He then turned his attention to the girl. “You’ve been asleep for a couple of hours.” 

Dot nodded as she carefully adjusted to a sitting position on the bed. “Thanks for helping me, Brain.”

The smaller mouse smiled humbly. “You’re welcome.” 

“Oh Dot, I’ve got you something from the store!” Pinky crowed. He sprinted towards one of the bags and took out a plastic box containing a family of Calico Critters. Lifting the package over his head, he raced to the girl’s bedside. 

Dot’s eyes twinkled as she eagerly took the package. She inspected the small bunny family dressed in their finest countryside attire. While Dot prided herself on being an intelligent young woman, she didn’t have it in her to hide away her interests in soft toys and plushies. 

“Oh thank you Pinky! You’re the best!” She exclaimed as she scooped Pinky up and nuzzled her cheek against his face. 

The smaller mouse laughed and let out a “Troz!” as he was smothered with affection. 

Wakko contentedly sighed as he closed the graphic novel. The middle child got up to place the book back into the book bag. “I should get back to work on my latest artistic masterpiece!” He declared as he rummaged through their pocket. But the drawing wasn’t there. 

He rushed over to the book bag and dumped out all the books, hoping that their drawing would fly out. Only a dozen books plummeted onto the floor. Wakko scrambled through the library books in search of their precious illustration but to no avail. 

Yakko and Brain paused their popsicle stick construction when they noticed a distressed Wakko desperately looking for something important. 

“What’s wrong, Wakko?” Yakko asked concernedly. 

“My drawing!” Wakko warbled as tears started pouring down their cheeks. “I must have left it back at the library!” 

Brain got up and carefully approached the worried Warner sibling. “Now now, it’s not the end of the world, Wakko. You can make another drawing here.” He soothed. Providing words of comfort wasn’t one of his strong suits, but he was trying his best. 

“But it’s very important to me!” The middle child trembled as the waterfall of tears continued to fall. 

Brain felt something stirring deep inside him. Seeing Wakko reduced to tears over his missing illustration brought up the painful memory of Pinky sobbing uncontrollably when he forgot to send his letter to Santa. The mouse learned not to brush aside Pinky’s own wants as trivial and he would not do the same for the middle Warner sibling. 

With his tiny pink paws, Brain gently patted the child’s foot. “Dry your tears Wakko, we’ll retrieve your picture from the library before closing time.” 

“You will?” Wakko grinned at the mouse despite the tears that streaked their face. Brain replied with a confident nod. 

The smaller mouse retrieved his smartphone from his pocket and tapped his Google app. He typed the name of the library in the search bar and hit the magnifying glass button. He immediately found the results and looked over at the library information on the right-hand side, searching for the weekend hours of availability. The library closes at 5:00 PM. He looked over at the time on the top left-hand corner of the phone. It was now 4:45 PM. 

Brain looked over at Wakko with sheer determination. “Come along, Wakko. We’ll make it to the library faster if we take my human suit.” 

The chubby mouse sprinted over towards his robot, swiftly climbed up the suit, and hopped inside the driver’s seat. Yanking the control levers, he swiftly grabbed Wakko and made their way out of the hotel room. The mouse ran over to the elevator and saw the doors about to close. Brain managed to place his foot on the divider, stopping the doors from closing. Once he got inside, Brain pressed the rooftop button. 

“But aren’t we going to the library?” Wakko asked worriedly. 

“We are Wakko, we won’t be walking or taking a cab.” Brain answered with fierce determination. 

“But I will promise you that we will arrive at the library before closing time.” He guaranteed. 

Once the elevator doors opened, Brain began to sprint towards the center of the rooftop patio. “Hold on to your hat!” He commanded, and the middle child firmly guarded their red cap with one hand. 

Pressing the red button in the controls, Brain ignited the jet-powered boosters on his shoes and he took off from the rooftop and ascended above the hotel. Brain carefully steered the controls as he flew across the city skyline, careful to keep Wakko secure in his arms. 

Wakko kept a strong grip over their hat as their eyes wandered down to the ground. He looked over to The Brain, who kept a determined stare as he searched for the public library. Wakko stuck out their tongue and let out an enthusiastic cheer. 

“Wooooo!!!” Wakko joyfully shouted. Many onlookers in the city streets turned their attention to the strange robotic suit carrying the eager toon. Not the most unusual thing spotted in Los Angeles on a Saturday afternoon. 

Brain spotted the library gardens and swiftly descended towards his destination. Jerking the controls, Brain landed near the library entrance in a superhero pose. Wakko released himself from Brain’s hold and ran into the library. 

Upon remembering the no-running policy, Wakko sped-walked over to the children’s section. Once he burst through the entrance of the kid-friendly area, Wakko picked up the pace. He spotted the drawing tables but was sullen to find them bare, save for the box of colored pencils. 

“Oh no!” Wakko gasped. Someone must have stolen his artwork! While he didn’t have the same detective skills as Hercule Yakko, he was determined to get to the bottom of this!

“Can I help you?” A kind voice asked. Wakko turned around to find the nice librarian he met this morning. Maybe she can help him solve the case!

“Excuse me Miss Librarian, I left my important drawing on the table earlier, and now it’s gone!” Wakko nervously explained while rocking on their heels in anticipation. 

The librarian sympathetically looked at the child before remembering. “Oh, that’s because I saved it!” 

“Really!?” Wakko exclaimed. 

“Yep,” The librarian confirmed as she opened up the drawer and took out the illustration. “Normally we recycle any pictures that are left behind, but I thought that this picture was too good to be tossed out. Plus I figured that you and your family would have come back for it anyway.” 

The librarian gave the picture back to Wakko, who quickly retrieved it. The middle child gazed at the drawing with tears of joy. 

“Reunited and it feels so good!” He cheered while clutching the picture to their chest. “Thank you very much, Miss Librarian!” 

“Your welcome.” The librarian kindly replied. 

Wakko waved at her as he made their bouncy exit from the children’s section. By the time he exited the children’s section, he found Brain awkwardly waiting by the circulation desk. 

“Found it!” He proclaimed as he showed the mouse the back of the picture. 

“That’s wonderful.” Brain sighed in relief. “May I see your illustration?”

“I’m not finished with my drawing yet. But I promise I’ll show you when it’s done.” Wakko said as he stuffed the picture in their shirt. “Scout’s honor!” 

“Very well. Let’s make our way back to the hotel.” Brain said as he held Wakko’s hand. Once the two made their way out of the library, Wakko tugged at the robotic arm hard enough to gain Brain’s attention. 

“Hey Dadoo, can we fly again?” Wakko eagerly asked, bouncing up and down. 

“I would prefer if we walked.” Brain answered hesitantly. 

“Awww,” Wakko groaned in defeat. 

“Come now, walking has its benefits.” Brain reassured the middle child, but they still looked down at the sidewalk, kicking a stone pebble out of frustration. The mouse furrowed his brow as he pondered. Certainly, the best way to please Wakko was to please their appetite. 

Brain gently squeezed Wakko’s hand, causing the Warner sibling to look up at the big-headed mouse. “I know of a wonderful designer donut shop where we can pick up two boxes of confectioneries to share with the others.” 

Wakko’s eyes widened with joy, eager to visit his favorite donut shop once again. “Yay!” The middle child chirped before leaping into Brain’s arms. The mouse was caught unaware by Wakko’s sudden gesture of love but welcomed it nonetheless. 

-              -                    -                       -                      -

Back at the hotel room, Yakko, Dot, and Pinky were playing an intense game of Jenga. Pinky inspected the unsteady tower, searching for the perfect block to remove. The mouse found a loose piece. He yanked it out in one swift motion, but the tower soon collapsed on him. 

Dot put a hand over her mouth as she saw the poor mouse toppled by the Jenga blocks. Yakko couldn’t help but laugh at the tower’s sudden destruction, but the Warner sister swiftly elbowed him. 

Fortunately, Pinky popped out of the pile with a hearty laugh. “Oh, that was so much fun! Narf!” 

“Let’s play another round!” Yakko declared as he gathered a handful of Jenga blocks. He began to assemble the tower when the door clicked open. He, Dot and Pinky turned their heads to see Brain entering the room, carrying Wakko in one arm (whose face was covered with strawberry frosting and rainbow sprinkles) and two boxes of donuts in the other. 

“Hi fellas!” Wakko greeted with a wave. 

“Hey, Wakko!” Dot called back. The middle child was relieved to know that their little sister looked much healthier and seemed to be on the mend. 

“Did you find your drawing?” Yakko asked his sibling. “Yup!” Wakko cheered as he jumped out of Brain’s grasp and onto the floor. “And we also found donuts!” He swiftly took the two boxes and opened one of them, showcasing eleven donuts. 

Pinky trotted over to the box and gazed at the many different flavors. “I’ve never seen so many donuts like this in my life!”

“Oh, they’re the best!” Wakko exclaimed as he was about to list off the various donuts. “There’s brie, white cheddar, chicken noodle soup, buffalo chicken, seafood salad, avocado, macaroon, bacon, ranch dressing, and macaroni and cheese!”

“Ooh, so many choices! Zort!” Pinky exclaimed. “But I’ll have the macaroni and cheese donut please!” Wakko happily handed the donut over to Pinky who eagerly accepted the unusual treat. 

Brain retrieved a handful of napkins from his suit pocket and offered them to the group. “Now let’s save the hotel cleaning staff the trouble and avoid making a colossal mess.” 

“Okay Brain!” Pinky replied as he took a napkin. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot quickly grabbed some napkins from the robotic hand before grabbing their donuts of choice. 

The chubby mouse placed the last two napkins on his bed before exiting the robotic suit. After landing on the mattress, he walked over to the box of donuts to inspect the bizarre donut flavors. 

Before Wakko could eat his second donut, he noticed Brain having a difficult time selecting which flavor to indulge himself with. The middle child remembered how Brain offered his french fries the other night and decided to return the favor. He looked at their donut and split it in half. 

“Here Dadoo, have some of my mashed potatoes with butter and gravy donut!” Wakko eagerly offered. 

“That’s awfully kind of you Wakko, but I’m all set.” Brain declined. “I think I’ll have the brie donut instead.” 

“Okay, suit yourself!” Wakko concluded. He threw the two halves of his donut in the air and caught them in their mouth. Wakko hummed contentedly as he felt the mashed potato, butter, and gravy melt in their mouth before swallowing. 

“So Brain, what’s the dinner situation like?” Dot inquired as she cautiously took a small bit from her donut, careful about not upsetting her stomach again. 

Brain pondered for a moment. Dot’s sudden illness threw a wrench in his plans to take the kids out to a fancy restaurant, throwing away another chance at having an elegant dining experience over the weekend while he could pay for it. But Brain was never one to dwell in defeat. He couldn’t change what he can’t control, but he could always adapt. 

“Is anyone in the mood for room service?” Brain asked the group. 

“Now we’re talking!” Yakko exclaimed. 

The mouse hopped over to the nightstand and took out the pamphlet regarding the hotel’s room service. After everyone informed him of what they wanted, Brain picked up the telephone, punched in the numbers, and requested a lengthy dinner order: meatloaf and side vegetables for Yakko, roast beef and chicken for Wako, chicken noodle soup and caesar salad for Dot, garlic jumbo prawns and filet mignon for himself and a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes and pudding snacks for Pinky. 

A half-hour later, their dinners arrived. The Warners sat down on the floor as they consumed their respective meals. Pinky dove into the potato as if it was a swimming pool. Brain was satisfied with his meal, thankful that the steamed carrots that came with his prawns were served al dente. 

After dinner, The Warners plopped back onto the bed rather exhausted after a long day. Dot took the remote control and turned on the television. She searched through the hotel’s selected movies in search of something decent to sit through. 

“The Sandlot was a bit of a let down in my opinion, so I’m gonna pick out tonight’s movie.” Dot drawled as she scanned through the various movie titles. 

After a minute of scrolling past some bland-looking movies, she came across an unusual-looking movie poster. A picture of Brain wearing a brown toupee standing in a dramatic pose with his eyes closed beneath the bold text of the title: A Beautiful Brain. 

Wakko and Dot ‘oohed’ and ‘awed’ at the screen. Yakko initially let out an amused snort but then he read that the movie was nominated for several Academy Awards, including Best Picture. A movie that was directed by and starred Brain somehow was in the running for Best Picture? 

The Warners were wildly curious about the fact that Brain of all people was involved in such a prestigious movie. 

“Okay, I have so many questions right now!” Yakko declared. “Were there no good movies out the year you made that movie?” 

“What made you want to direct?” Dot asked with genuine intrigue. 

“Can we watch this movie please?” Wakko begged. 

Brain waved his hands in the air. “Now, calm down.” He ordered with an indignant frown. “To answer your inquiries, yes I acted, directed, and produced this piece of critically acclaimed Oscar bait, and, as you children would suspect, it was all part of an elaborate plan to take over the world.” 

“By winning the hearts of critics and audiences everywhere?” Dot spoke up. 

“Unfortunately, that wasn’t the main objective of my plan.” 

“So what’s it about?” Wakko asked curiously with their tongue bouncing about. 

“A Beautiful Brain follows the story of a once-promising gifted student who grows up to be a weary and cynical college professor who learns that his value in life extends beyond what he could provide with his superior intellect.” Brain explained. 

“Oh, it’s such an emotional rush! I laughed, I cried, picked my nose when no one was looking!” Pinky eagerly added. “And it could have won Best Picture too, if it hadn’t been for…” The mouse’s smile contorted into a rueful frown as he remembered his blunder during his mission to secure Brain’s place as Best Picture winner so he could take over the world on Oscar night. “Me...”

Pinky tucked his legs in, wrapped his arms around his knees, and lowered his head on top of his kneecaps. Brain gave a sympathetic sigh and gently rubbed his partner’s back. “But all is well, dear Pinky.” 

“What happened?” Yakko inquired. 

“I was supposed to rig the ceremony by putting in Brain’s envelope in the winners’ pile, but I accidentally put in my no-bake cheesecake recipe in the envelope by mistake!” Pinky sadly recalled. 

“And had I been announced the winner, I would have used my immobilization ray to kidnap the entire audience of Hollywood elites and force them to do my bidding.” Brain finished as he continued to caress Pinky’s back in a soothing manner. “But it’s best not to dwell on past failures.” The pudgy mouse reminded his partner.

“Can we still watch the movie?” Wakko asked anxiously. 

The smaller mouse cringed at the question. Truthfully, he had not revisited the movie since it premiered in select theaters, and since they recounted their failed plan to the kids, he was not in the mood to watch his critically acclaimed vanity project. 

“No, you kids wouldn’t enjoy it.” Brain insisted. “It’s a dreadfully long movie with too many conversational scenes and not enough action to keep your attention.” 

“You’re right, that doesn’t sound very captivating at all,” Yakko remarked. 

“Yes,” Brain said dryly, brushing aside the eldest Warner’s quip. “In all honesty, the movie makes The English Patient look like Mad Max: Fury Road.” 

“Wait a minute, they made another of those movies?” Dot asked. Yakko and Wakko were equally surprised by this revelation. Apparently, they glossed over the most recent Mad Max movie in their Reboot It song. 

“You haven’t seen Mad Max: Fury Road !?” Pinky and Brain shouted simultaneously. The Warners wordlessly shook their heads in unison. The mice looked at each other and knew that this needed to be remedied. 

“Oh, it’s only one of the best movies in the history of history!” Pinky explained. “There are so many cars that go zoom-zoom-zoomie! Zort! And there’s a lot of emotional moments that make you feel all soft and gooshy!” 

“Fury Road is a cinematic masterpiece that works on so many levels!” Brain added. “Brilliant action set-pieces, a major focus on visual storytelling with biting commentary on the brutality of war, and a magnificent exploration of feminism.” 

“Feminism in my action movie!?” Dot gushed, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Sign me up!” 

“Alright, let’s see if we can find this movie anywhere,” Yakko said as he scrolled through the various movie titles until he found a colorful movie poster featuring a woman with a shaved head and a man in the front seat of a car. 

“Oooh, so pretty,” Wakko awed. As he read the descriptor he noticed one huge obstacle. “Aw man, the movie is rated R...”

Brain hummed in response. “It appears that this movie is deemed inappropriate for children…” He drawled as he gazed at the Warners’ defeated expressions. But he laughed in response. “But we’re cool guardians, right Pinky?” 

“Amen to that!” Pinky cheerfully responded. 

“And if we’re going off by the date you were originally conceived in the Warner Brothers Animation Department, all three of you are technically over the age of seventeen and needn’t worry about this sort of issue.” Brain stated confidently. 

Yakko and Wakko bounced up and down the bed in elation, linking their arms and doing a do-si-do. Dot went over and hugged the mice. “Yes! I can’t believe you two are gonna let us watch the adult action movie!” 

“It would be a crime not to show this movie to you kids,” Brain chuckled. 

“Yes! Best dads ever!” She declared as she hugged them close, their cheeks squishing together. Pinky savored the affection while Brain was stunned by the sudden gesture. Once they broke away, Dot carefully cradled the mice in her hands. 

“But mark my words, I will watch your Oscar contender at some point, old man!” Dot added. 

“Yes, yes, certainly.” Brain waved his hand in dismissal. “But for now, let us indulge in this beautifully crafted piece of action cinema.” 

Dot gently carried the mice in her hands as she brought them over to the other bed. Yakko and Wakko landed on the bed and got into their movie-watching positions. 

During the movie, Brain was surprised to learn that the Warners remained relatively still when watching the movie. Although Wakko did get up from time to time to act out the thrilling action scenes. 

Brain was so invested in the movie that it took him a few minutes to realize that something soft and warm had wrapped around his broken, zig-zagged tail. He looked down to see Pinky’s tail intertwined with his. A gesture normally reserved for moments of intimate cuddling after a failed scheme to take over the world or a particularly grueling day of experiments at the lab. Regardless, Brain smiled at Pinky’s affectionate gesture. 

The pudgy mouse looked over at the Warners and his partner before releasing a contented sigh. Even though they weren’t able to go to the movie theater together, they still managed to watch a movie from the comfort of the hotel room. 

Once the credits rolled, the Warners applauded as Brain turned off the television set. Brain tried to get up but felt a sharp pain in his rear when he tried to move. He looked over at Pinky and noticed that their tails were still tangled together. 

The color of Brain’s cheeks and tail tinted to a light shade of pink. “Pinky!” He alerted his partner, gesturing to their tails. 

The taller mouse looked over at their tails and blushed at the sight of their intimate display. “Oh, sorry Brain,” Pinky replied with a sheepish smile. He slowly unraveled his tail, careful not to hurt his partner, and liberated his appendage. 

Brain was ready to give a reprimanding speech to Pinky about showcasing such lewd activity in front of the children but was alerted when he felt a gloved finger gently patting his large head. The mouse turned to see the Warner sister batting her eyes and endearing him to her cuteness. 

“Hey Brain, can you and Pinky tell us a story?” Dot asked. Wakko nodded enthusiastically with their tongue bouncing about. 

“We would be delighted to, wouldn’t we Pinky?” Brain answered as he slyly glanced at his partner. 

Pinky eagerly rushed over to his beau’s side, pulling him into a side hug. “We should tell the story of Rapunzel- no! We should act out the story of Rapunzel, Brain! With costumes and sets!” He suggested. The Warners were excited at the idea of the mice putting on a show for them. 

“Sounds like an ambitious endeavor, but with enough ingenuity, we can pull it off.” Brain concurred. “Now, we just need to obtain materials for the set, some costumes, and a long wig for Rapunzel’s hair.” 

“I’ve got some pieces of cardboard from the crafts store,” Yakko stated, pointing over to the small pile of art materials. 

“Excellent!” Brain said with a confident grin. 

“I have some Calico Critter clothes that would fit you both.” Dot added. 

“Wonderful!” Pinky exclaimed, clasping his hands together. 

“I’ve got some pisghetti for Rapunzel’s hair!” Wakko declared. He reached into their hammerspace and retrieved a handful of long, moist strands of thin spaghetti, which was covered with small specks of black fur. 

Brain stared at the spaghetti and back at the middle child. “Wakko, I am both amazed and disgusted by your creativity.” The smaller mouse remarked. Wakko grinned at the unusual compliment. 

“Now, Pinky and I need approximately fifteen minutes to prepare for our low-budget stage production of Rapunzel. So I suggest that you three get ready for bed.” 

The Warners saluted the mice and immediately began their bedtime routine of changing into their pajamas and brushing their teeth. 

The mice were quick to construct an elaborate set made entirely out of cardboard, don their wardrobes, come up with a script on the fly and memorize said script and all the musical numbers. Pinky was excited to play the role of Rapunzel. The mouse wore a lavender dress and fashioned the spaghetti into a braided blonde wig. Brain decided to play the leading man, wearing a teal vest, a white undershirt, and black pants, and his brown toupee (the same toupee he wore when he taught high school under his Mr. Brainslowski alias and when he acted in A Beautiful Brain). 

The Warners emerged from the bathroom in their pajamas. Yakko had a grey T-Shirt with the Warner Bros. logo and red flannel pajama pants. Wakko wore a hockey jersey and a blue bathrobe. Dot a purple nightshirt and matching pajama pants. The siblings were surprised to see a small set on the foot of their bed and the mice already dressed in their respective costumes. 

“So, you guys have everything all set?” Yakko asked. 

Pinky eagerly nodded. “I’m so excited to play the role of Rapunzel!” He declared as he twirled around. 

“And I’m equally excited to play the role of Finn Glider! The charming rogue and Rapunzel’s love interest.” Brain explained dramatically as he struck a dynamic pose. 

Yakko raised his hand in objection. “Uuuuuhhh, but isn’t his name Flynn Ri-” 

“Ah ah ah!” Brain interrupted with a pointed finger. “We don’t want the mouse to sue, now do we?”

“But Brain, why on earth would I want to sue you?” Pinky questioned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Brain rolled his eyes and he took Pinky’s hand. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” He told his partner as he tugged him by his hand, retreating behind the curtains of their makeshift stage and turned off the lights. 

Moments later, a small puppeteer’s box emerged from the curtains, with a small dim light behind the screen. The mice picked up their shadow puppet props as Brain’s booming voice provided the expository information in the prologue. 

“Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom there lived a beautiful princess. But the poor girl was kidnapped at a young age by an awful hag. The poor girl, whom the hag named Rapunzel, lived in solitude in an abandoned tower in the woods. Each day, she stared out at the world from her tower window, longing for companionship…” 

The lights behind the small screen blew out. The puppeteer’s box was wheeled away to the left and the curtains pulled back to reveal a painted forest background and a cardboard tower. So far the Warners were impressed with the mice’s creativity and were immediately invested in the play. 

Pinky strutted onto the stage, but Brain quickly yanked him back. “You have to open up the tower window, you imbecile!” Brain reprimanded in a hushed voice. 

“Oh, sorry Brain!” Pinky whispered back. The Warners suppressed their laughter as the mice dealt with their theatrical screw-up. 

The cardboard shutters to the cardboard tower flew open and Pinky popped his head out with a radiant smile on his face. 

“Oh, what a lovely morning it is outside! Narf!” He spoke in a somewhat monotone voice. He looked down to refer to his script and continued on. “The animals are having such a fun-fun silly-willy time outside, and yet I am alone in my tower. Oh, how I wish I had someone to talk to.” 

At that moment, Brain waltzed onto the stage and stood in a dramatic pose. 

Pinky smiled and waved at his co-star. “Greetings, fair person!” He exclaimed. “And what might your name be?” 

Brain looked up at the tower and tossed back his toupee. “It is I, Finn Glider! Notorious outlaw, cunning rogue, and certified ladies’ man!” The mouse flashed a smarmy grin at his audience. 

Yakko and Dot stifled their giggles. 

Wakko, on the other hand, was frightened at the sight of Brain baring his teeth and pulled their hat downward to shield their eyes. “You guys didn’t tell me that this was a scary story!” He wailed. 

After giving a smug smile, he turned his attention back to Pinky and approached the cardboard tower. “And who might you be fair maiden?” He inquired. “I could only hope your name is as beautiful as your face!” 

“My name is Pinky- I mean, Rapunzel! Zort!” Pinky faltered. 

“Nice save,” Brain muttered sarcastically. 

“Thank you, Brain.” Pinky kindly replied whilst batting his eyes. The mouse glanced back at the script in his hands and focused on his performance. “So Finn, would you like to drop by for a spot of tea?” 

“That sounds lovely, fair Rapunzel.” Brain eagerly responded. He looked to the tower and his smile turned into a forlorn frown. “But alas, I have no way to access the tower.” 

“Not to worry, Finn. For I could let down my hair for you to climb up the tower!” Pinky crowed. 

Brain knelt down and extended his arm out to Pinky. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair!” 

The taller mouse gathered the braided spaghetti wig, which proved to be much heavier than he anticipated. But nevertheless, he happily dropped the pasta wig, which crash-landed on top of Brain. The Warners laughed at the sudden slapstick comedy while the chubby mouse let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Glad to know you kids are enjoying yourselves…” Brain soured. 

Once he got up, he climbed up the spaghetti wig. However, this proved to be a challenge, for the pasta was surprisingly slippery after staying in Wakko’s pocket for an uncertain amount of time. Upon reaching the top of the tower, Pinky pulled him through the window and the curtains closed, ending the scene. 

For the next half hour, the mice continued to perform their rendition of Rapunzel, and the Warners were enchanted throughout the play. In the final scene, the two mice sat in a boat made from a used toilet paper roll cylinder, singing a passionate duet about finding the light and falling in love. Once Pinky and Brain completed their song, they leaned in for a kiss and the curtains closed. 

The children stood up and applauded. The mice emerged from the curtains to see their enthusiastic audience. Pinky and Brain exchanged loving glances, proud that they were able to pull off a play in a short amount of time and with limited resources. Clasping their paws together, the mice bowed. 

“Oh man, that was a riot!” Yakko cheered. 

“Two thumbs way up!” Dot agreed. 

Pinky took off his pasta wig and walked up to Wakko. “Oh, can I eat some of the spaghetti?” He pleaded with the middle child.

“Of course,” Wakko said, as he took the spaghetti and split it evenly between themselves and the smaller mouse. “After all, sharing is caring. Right, Brain?” 

The intelligent mouse was surprised that not only Wakko remembered his dry remark from their dinner at McDonald’s, but how he has taken it to heart. “That’s correct, Wakko.” 

Pinky took one of the strands and offered it to Brain. “Here, you take this end of the spaghetti  and we’ll recreate that iconic kiss from Lady and the Tramp!” 

Brain silently shoved the spaghetti back to Pinky. “A tempting offer, but I would prefer to have pasta that wasn’t stuffed in someone’s pocket for Lord knows how long.” 

“Okay, more for me!” Pinky said before slurping the spaghetti. Brain shook his head at his partner’s moronic display. 

Pinky was about to give Brain a kiss, but Brain held his hand up before their lips could collide. “I will only kiss you after you brush your teeth.” He commanded. 

“Right!” Pinky agreed. 

“Okay children, you know the routine.” Brain addressed. 

The Warners nestled themselves underneath the covers. They were rather exhausted after an eventful day and were ready to hit the hay. 

Pinky and Brain gave each of the siblings their mandatory goodnight kiss on the cheek before Wakko gave them a goodnight smooch on their heads in return. After the middle child placed them on the nightstand, the mice hopped to their bed. 

By the time Wakko turned off the lamp, Brain collapsed on the pillow, eager to fall asleep. The mouse closed his eyes and was ready to drift off to his slumber when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. 

He opened his eyes to see Pinky gazing at him with a worried look. 

“Don’t go to sleep just yet,” Pinky said. “I’ve got a surprise for you in the bathroom.” 

“Well, that doesn’t sound unsettling in the slightest.” Brain sarcastically remarked. 

“But Brain,” Pinky whined. 

Brain looked into Pinky’s eyes and pondered for a moment. The last surprise Pinky planned for him turned out to be a fun karaoke night. Perhaps he should have more faith in his partner and indulge in whatever he had in store for him. 

“Oh, alright.” Brian surrendered in an exasperated tone. 

“Great!” Pinky cheered as he gave Brain a quick smooch on his chubby cheek. “I promise you’re gonna love it! Just give me ten minutes to prepare!” 

With that, the lanky mouse hopped down from the bed and scurried over to the restroom. Brain placed his paw over his right cheek and let out a tired sigh. “I don’t know whether to be excited or scared of what that imbecile has up his sleeve.” 

AN: I apologize for the long break between chapters. I was feeling the winter blues and hit a bad writer’s block. Fortunately, I managed to overcome that roadblock and now I’m focusing on my writing. The next chapter is going to be considerably shorter compared to the last few chapters and more Brinky-centric, but it’s just as important in regards to character growth.

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Seventeen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Tagging @anonymouscosmos, @culturalrebel, @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto and @nelba! Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains intense recounts of previous abuse, intense depictions of self-loathing, self-deprecation and brief mentions of depression. Stay safe!]

Cade caught Danse before he could depart after the rest of their unofficial 'war council' had been dismissed, the medical officer inquiring, "How are you coping, Paladin? I hope that your adjustment to your newfound knowledge is going well." The arch of his eyebrow indicated plainly that Cade was looking for a clear answer, possibly to dissuade his own concerns.

  "I am still uncertain, Knight-Captain Cade." Danse stated bluntly. "I know that Quinlan's reports are accurate. I know that I must be a synth. But it is...it's difficult to wrap my head around it."

  "My door is always open, Danse. As it's been since the day you were assigned to the Prydwen." Cade reminded him. "I can't say I've ever had the pleasure of doing a mental evaluation on a synth, but…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "Hmm, that's not quite right. You and I have had sessions before. Maybe synths aren't so different in their cognition. Perhaps this is a nature versus nurture scenario."

  "Perhaps." Danse allowed, but he knew that he sounded less than optimistic.

  "Maybe in a day or two, once everything has calmed down and you've had time to think?" Cade suggested. "Collect your thoughts, then come see me and we can discuss your current state and the repercussions of Maxson's treatment."

  The paladin nodded, relieved that Cade didn't wish to immediately evaluate him. It had been an incredibly stressful and arduous several weeks. More than anything, the paladin was longing to finally get some sleep.

  After he spoke to Haylen and Rhys, of course. They deserved his gratitude, if only for their combined efforts in delivering the tip-off that had literally saved his life. To say nothing of their care for Elizabeth in his absence, even though they were unable to free her. They had kept her alive, and that was more than the paladin had dared to hope for.

  Danse watched Cade depart, his mind miles away now. Backhand would be incredibly busy in the lead up to the assault. He felt almost irritated by that; it was unfair to ask so much of her so soon after what had transpired. But the luxury of time was no longer on their side. Danse understood, in a practical sense, that they needed to strike as fast as possible. It was entirely within reason that the Institute already knew of their plans and were preparing their own countermeasures.

  It still didn't erase the hollow sensation in his gut, the fear that Backhand was all too willing to stretch herself paper-thin for her various factions. He promised himself then and there that he would do his best to absorb some of the burden. 

  As much as she would allow. 

  The memory of her ripping her knuckles apart on the manual release of his armor, talking to Matthew's parents, taking her helmet off and smiling at him. Thank you, Danse or I thought you were dead or please don't do that to me again --

  Danse chewed anxiously on his lower lip. As much as she would allow. As much as he could feasibly handle. It should have felt odd that he was trading one leader for another, but Danse could only rationalize that it must be another portion of his programming. 

  "Paladin Danse, sir?" 

  Rhys . Danse started, turning around. He hadn't even heard the knight approach down the catwalk. Hell, he hadn't even realized he was spacing out in the hallway. "Yes, Knight?" He replied, nodding out of habit to acknowledge Haylen beside Rhys.

  "Elder Brandis said you wanted to see us, sir." The knight stated, sounding a bit hesitant. "He said we needed to discuss...certain things."

  Of course he did . Danse sighed heavily, bracing himself for some level of a disappointment-fueled tirade.

  "Danse, I'm so sorry." Haylen blurted out, her voice shaking. Danse was startled, tilting his head while she carried on, "I wish there had been some other way for me to tell you. You must have been terrified ." 

  "I was certainly confused, if nothing else." The paladin admitted with a wry smile. "I am immensely grateful to both of you, regardless of my own trials. You followed your training and stuck to your guns, and I couldn't be more proud." He deflated slightly. "Even if the pride of a synth means precious little."

  "The synth shit doesn't matter to either of us, sir." Rhys muttered. "We don't care. We're just glad you're back and that Maxson didn't manage to kill you. That's the important part, right?"

  "In a way." Danse agreed, grimacing. "Our battle is far from over, however."

  "Hey, we're doing something. That's more than a lot of people can say." Haylen reasoned, ever the optimist. "I've got faith in whatever plan you guys come up with."

  "Thank you for believing in me." The paladin murmured, giving the only surviving members of Squad Gladius a stiff salute. 

  "We know you, sir. You protected us, trained us. Built us up from basically nothing." Rhys sounded angry, his typically-sullen expression gone even more sour. "You think we could ever turn our backs on you? You're not that stupid."

  Haylen began to protest, "Rhys-"

  "Haylen, you and I both know he'll just self-deprecate until he dissolves. I'm not letting that happen." Rhys grumbled at the scribe, who fell silent at his reasoning. Her eyes were narrowed to slits and the sight was immensely entertaining to Danse, who couldn't keep a nervous chuckle from bubbling up in his throat.

  "I'm certain the two of you are aware of the devastating depression you dragged me out of all those years ago in the Capital Wasteland." Danse clapped Rhys on the shoulder and caught Haylen up in a rare one-armed hug. "How many times will you two save me? Should I start taking you for granted?" 

  "Paladin Danse, sir, w-we…" Haylen trailed off, her lower lip quivering. She buried her face in Danse's ribs and Rhys grunted.

  "Haylen, c'mon . Pull it together." He huffed, his own eyes looking suspiciously wet. "Listen, sir, I think I've made our position pretty clear. We follow your orders. Learning about that shit with Maxson-"

  "I'm so angry! " Haylen interrupted him, glaring upwards. "God Danse, I'm furious . What he did to you is unforgivable, inexcusable." She announced hotly. "Everyone assumed something was going on, but we also assumed it was consensual ."

  " 'Everyone' ?" Danse echoed, a weird surge of retroactive embarrassment seizing his body. "I suppose I should be thankful you all were so willing to offer me the illusion of privacy." He mumbled.

  "He's never coming anywhere near you again, sir." Rhys stated, his jaw set in an angry scowl. "I don't care if he's the last of the Maxson line. I'll break his fucking skull."

  His words stirred Danse's guilt to life, the ugly feeling rearing its head once more. "It is a difficult situation to be in. I do not envy our elders, past or present." Danse tried to pose the sentence with a modicum of compassion, though he was unsure of the attempt's success. The paladin knew that despite Maxson's position of power, Danse bore a majority of the blame for not standing up to the elder until it was too late to prevent his spiral.

  "Difficult, my ass ." Rhys growled under his breath.

  …

  "So we've got Preston, someone by the name of John D., the…" Ingram narrowed her eyes at the readout. " Atom Cats ?"

  "Yep. Real into their power armor. And Zeke owes me a favor." Backhand explained, continuing to scroll through her Pip Boy notes. "If I can get them to walk across the pond and cover the Castle, that will free up more Minutemen to join us."

  "Should I ask how you managed to ingratiate yourself with so many of these people?" 

  "I'm a sucker for a lost cause." Vega answered, her tone dry. 

  Ingram snorted, shaking her head. "Lucky for us, I imagine. Also lucky for us that you're the forgiving sort."

  "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Proctor." Backhand retorted. "I'm just not yet in a position to combat your aerial superiority."

  "Whew, gonna' file that one away for later consideration."

  A soft knock on the comm doorway interrupted the two women, and Vega turned to see Danse peering cautiously into the room. "Paladin! You're just in time, we were about to start rallying the troops. Want to lend a hand?" 

  "What needs to be done, General Vega?" The paladin asked, his posture gone stiff and proper. 

  Backhand could feel her smile dim slightly, but she reined herself in. They had all been through so much, she reasoned, and old habits were usually a comfort. "Well, I've got a few calls to make on my own, but if you can get in touch with Lieutenant Garvey that would be a huge help."

  "Understood." 

  Proctor Ingram (who had been watching their exchange with poorly-veiled interest) stepped out of the way so that Danse could settle down at the desk alongside one of their many radio switchboards. "Vega, I think the two of you can handle this." The older woman remarked, giving Elizabeth a sly wink behind Danse's back. "I'll start whipping the base camp into shape. Make myself useful, y'know. Ad Victoriam."

  Vega went bright red as Ingram saluted, the proctor sporting an absolutely infuriating smirk. "B-But Proctor--"

  "No buts! You guys handle the easy stuff. I'll manage the elbow grease." Ingram then mouthed talk to him! , before strolling out of the comm area. Backhand swore under her breath, thumping her fist into the desk in mute frustration. 

  "I can leave, General Vega." Danse offered, making her start and whirl to face him.

  "No no! No, uh, you're fine. You're not the problem here." Vega assured him, waving her hands nervously. "I'm just...I'm a little uptight, that's all."

  "Will your forces refuse to join us?" The paladin asked, his rigid posture easing slightly as he tipped his head back to look up at her. He continued in an undertone, "Would it be simpler to do it with your troops alone? Do you truly need the Brotherhood?"

  "We do need the Brotherhood, yes. But I don't think we'll need them for the fighting. We'll need them for the mass casualty options and the refugee care after the fact." Backhand began to pace, mostly so she didn't have to maintain eye contact. The paladin looked fatigued yet determined, and it pained her to know that rest was still so far away for them. Rest and the possibility of actually speaking with him about the thing that had been on her mind in one form or another since…

  Well, it had been a long time.

  "We'll need help rebuilding more than anything. Not a lot of settlements will be keen to take on synths, so I'll need to figure out some kind of alternative. I really need to talk with Nick and Dea--er, John D ., and get their input on this whole engagement." Backhand rubbed her temples. "And here I thought getting in would be the hard part!" She tried to joke. 

  After a moment of silence, Vega heard Danse clear his throat. "General... Elizabeth , I know you already have many responsibilities, all of them miles more important than my own struggles."

  Backhand looked over at him expectantly, a little confused. 

  "I have to give Cade a full report." The tall man said abruptly. "I...he wants to know everything that's transpired." He stared down at the floor, the heel of his boot scuffing the grating beneath them as he rushed to add, "I know it's selfish of me to ask you to--I mean, you've been through so much, b-but I was...rather, I am uncertain of this endeavor, and my ability to maintain my composure during it. You tend to have a mollifying effect on me for some reason."

  "You want me to be present when you give your medical officer the full rundown?" Vega raised an eyebrow, further confused. Danse was a soldier , surely he had endured a full physical before?

  "I am overly anxious. It means reliving some portions of my past that I find...traumatic."

  "Oh." Oh . Backhand felt stupid as the truth dawned on her. Everything that's transpired . Of course Danse would want someone he trusted with him, this wasn't a physical exam at all. "What about Haylen or Rhys? Are they more appraised of the situation?"

  Danse was shaking his head before she had even finished. "I did my best to keep everything that happened quiet, though it appears that I was unsuccessful. I was told that was my only option, and I did not wish to disobey Maxson's orders." 

  "That fuckin' asshole." Vega growled. "Alright, if you're sure it's me you want with you, I'm here."

  "You don't have t--er, that is, I regret taking up more of your valuable time, General Vega. I promise after this meeting with Cade, I will be fully at your disposal." He assured her, seemingly pained by his current state.

  "Danse, I don't care about that. I don't want you better just so you can get used up again, I want you better for you . I'm sorry that all of this robs you of the proper time to regroup, y'know?" Backhand apologized, her words deliberately quiet as she boldly laced her fingers through his own. "Once we're done here, though, you need to take some time off. General's orders."

  "I would have to speak with Elder Brandis on the matter. As his most senior paladin, I am unsure if he would be able to permit me that luxury." Danse replied unhappily, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before he released it. "' A run ashore ', always just out of reach."

  "I'm getting you time off, even if I have to kidnap you myself." 

  The paladin's chuckle in reply to her threat was subdued, but it still sent a frisson of happiness through her body. Backhand choked down the guilt of having those feelings in the first place for just a second, choosing to bask in the warm sensation. 

  "When you're ready, General, I'll need the proper frequencies to speak with the Castle." Danse's request brought her crashing back down to earth, and Vega rushed to oblige him.

  There's always something else to do .

  …

  Two days later, on the cusp of their attack on the Institute, the both of them were seated in Knight-Captain Cade's main office aboard the Prydwen. The older officer sat across from them in the cramped space, a clipboard propped up on his knee.

  "The only questions I'll ask will be strictly for clarity's sake." The knight-captain informed Danse quietly. "If you don't want to answer, that is entirely acceptable and within your right, but the more information we have, the better."

  Danse nodded, the motion stilted. "I understand, Knight-Captain. I'll do my best to cooperate." 

  Vega squeezed his hand. God knew she didn't like this one damn bit, but she was going to stick it out for him. After all, he had gone to bat for her against the elder . Loyalty like that was in short supply. "I'm right here with you, Danse." She said softly. He had gone pasty white beneath his usual windblown complexion, and he gripped her hand wordlessly. 

  "If you could start at the beginning, Paladin. Or as close to it as possible." Cade prompted him.

  "Yes, I...of course." Danse rasped. "The first time we engaged was shortly before the Brotherhood lost Knight Cutler."

  Cade looked at him over his half-moon glasses, seeming perturbed. "That was...so this was a prolonged assault."

  "Not an assault. I did as I was ordered." The dull tone of Danse's voice, the way his eyes had gone almost grey ...Vega wanted to know how the hell Maxson had ever justified this. "I could not bring myself to question Arthur. He came to me, at first simply asking for help even though it was an order. He said he couldn't sleep. I...I never told Cutler. I didn't think it was relevant. I thought I was helping the new elder." Danse looked up at Cade. "I know what it's like to not be able to sleep for all the thoughts in your head."

  "Was there a specific point in time where his behavior shifted? Perhaps when it became more clear to you that there was something wrong?" Backhand was grateful for the delicate way Cade phrased the question.

  "I…" Danse's brow furrowed. "...had just come back with...after what transpired with Cutler. Four days on base. I was furious with Maxson for stationing Cutler out there, furious with myself for not saving Cutler. I was grieving and hurt both physically and emotionally, as you recall." Cade inclined his head. "I assume you also recall the bite on my arm that appeared shortly thereafter. That was a...result of my inability to perform."

  "Ah." Cade murmured, jotting something down.

  Bite? Vega could feel Danse trembling. "I-I was...unable to function or perform for him in a satisfactory manner and that was his method of voicing his frustration with me." Danse swallowed hard. "I was mourning , Cade." He sounded like he was begging the other man to understand, begging him not to judge.

  Perform for him. Backhand sucked in a deep breath through her nose, willing herself to stay silent. 

  "After that, I would just comply. It was never as bad as that time. I would perform for him to the best of my abilities." Danse paused, "but I never sought him out, and nothing occurred without me being ordered to do so." He then proceeded to rattle off a distressingly-long list of dates, every time that Maxson had coerced him. "I was not interested in...well, anyone , after Cutler." He muttered after a brief pause, "the term broken seems fitting." 

  "You weren't allowed proper space to heal yourself after what happened with Cutler. You were injured and then forced to deal with someone who kept prying open your wounds because they enjoyed lording their power over you." Cade theorized, his voice a little sharper. " Broken is not fitting in the slightest, Danse."

  The paladin shrugged. "Whatever the terminology might be, then." 

  " Traumatized , Danse. Emotional wounds take time to heal, just like physical ones. Losing Cutler in the way that we did-"

  "I deserved it!" Danse cut off the medical officer, leaning forward and clenching his free hand on his knee. "I failed Cutler, Cade! I should have gone after him sooner! The treatment from Maxson is what I deserved ." His eyes were wild, frantic. "He's an abuser, but I am a man deserving of every last instance of that abuse for my inaction when it came to Cutler!" The paladin reasoned intensely.

  Cade sighed, rifling through his clipboard. "Danse, you did not deserve or garner punishment for the consequences of Maxson's orders." He informed the other man quietly. "You were simply a man who lost someone that he cared deeply about."

  "And to find out that I'm not even that much!" Danse spat. "I'm still trying to cope with the reality that I am a living lie . My identity as Paladin Danse is nothing but a memory now. Everything I held dear, everything I ever believed in is completely gone. Can you imagine how that feels?" Danse was nearly shouting at this point, moving to stand. "I started out as nothing , and I've ended up as nothing . And I don't know what the hell to do about it!" 

  Backhand brought her hand up over his elbow, hauling him back down into his seat. " Listen to Cade, Danse." She growled. The paladin fought her grip briefly, but ultimately slumped in the chair. Good thing too, Vega wasn't exactly up to full strength just yet. The large man was shaking again, his breathing coming in harsh bursts. "It's okay, it's okay." Vega found herself repeating the phrase, rubbing circles on his back between his shoulder blades. Many members of military factions found repetition comforting and Danse appeared to be no exception, the large man heaving a massive sigh under the weight of her hand.

  "Danse, I'll fully admit to being out of my element here. I never expected to have to treat a synth." Knight-Captain Cade said plainly. "However, I've known you for many years. We have an established rapport. Your body is indistinguishable from an ordinary human body, as proved by my records. Your mental processes and pain responses are normal for a human. I suppose what I'm trying to say is learning that you are a synth may not change all that much, despite what you may be feeling."

  Danse choked out a forlorn noise that might have been a sob, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so confused." He confessed plaintively. "You're saying I did not deserve punishment for my failings, but...how else am I supposed to atone for Cutler?" He looked up, tears welling up in his eyes. "How am I supposed to reconcile with these human emotions, Cade? I barely kept myself under control when I believed I was human!"

  "Your feelings have always run deep, Danse. Your empathy for your fellow man has landed you in hot water more than once." Cade gestured at Vega. "According to our infiltrator, even the most brutal of synths feel regret and remorse just like we do, though they have not been taught how to cope with it."

  "I still feel like a human. Nothing feels different, yet now I constantly second-guess everything I do. I've had a plan from the beginning to shape my future, but I have to wonder about whether that's a lie as well." Danse remarked bitterly. "I had...I had hoped…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter."

  Backhand could feel her heart breaking the longer he spoke. His true identity was an immense blow to him, and on top of it he was still struggling under the burden of the guilt he carried due to Cutler's demise. He blamed himself for Arthur's demands. 

  "Listen to Cade, Danse." She urged. Her hand was essentially on autopilot as she traced small patterns on the center of his back, moving up and down his spine without rhyme or reason. "You're not to blame for what Maxson did. It's not yours to bear. Trust me, coming from someone who's more than willing to take on other folk's problems, that weight is not yours."

  "But-"

  "You trust me, right?" Vega interrupted him softly, cupping his face so that he had to look at her.

  "With my life, General Vega." 

  The rapid sincerity of his reply startled her and Backhand needed to take a moment, steeling herself yet again. "I know you trust Cade too, and I know this won't be a quick or easy process. But you accepting that whatever happened was not your fault would be a huge first step."

  "I...If I do…" Danse paused, hesitating. "Vega, if I forget about him..."

  "Hey, nobody said anything about forgetting. You told me about Cutler, about how important he was to you. There's no way someone like you could forget about him. But you need to forgive yourself, you have to understand that losing him was not your fault." Once more she found herself in over her head, but she did her best to tell him all the things she wished someone had told her when Sergeant Cathan had died.

  "He was...he was everything to me." Danse's voice cracked. "And I had to--I had to, he was...I had to."

  "What happened to Cutler and his team was an immense tragedy, and a needless one at that." Cade spoke up from his seat, his brow furrowed. "Maxson outed himself quite thoroughly during the trial, I would say. It will be difficult for him to explain his actions away when so many witnesses heard exactly what he said." 

  Elizabeth felt Danse go still, the paladin hanging on to Cade's every word. "Am I even permitted to be happy that he may face consequences?" He asked uncertainly, wringing his hands. "Is that a breach of protocol, Knight-Captain?"

  The medical officer shifted his weight, leaning forward to prop himself up with his elbows on his knees. "I can't promise you swift justice, you know how the Brotherhood operates. But Arthur invoked the right of a litany trial, then proceeded to break his own terms. To say nothing of the fact that he nearly killed someone uninvolved in the trial." Cade shook his head. "His abuse flourished in secrecy. Now that everything is out in the open, I do not believe even his status as the last Maxson will sway the other elders when they pass judgement."

  "Thank you, Knight-Captain." Danse closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "I...thank you, Vega." He continued, a little quieter. He caught her hand in his own, giving it a cautious squeeze. Almost as if he was imitating her gesture from earlier in the week. "I have so much to think about."

  "Agreed. Shall I put in a request to Brandis for a leave of absence?"

  Danse visibly recoiled at Cade's suggestion, his eyes going wide in dismay. "No! No, I am needed, Knight-Captain. After our assault has been carried out, and the Institute has been wiped from the map, I…" he hesitated, like the words were caught in his throat. "I will gladly take a leave. Until then, however, there is still work to do."

  "There is always work to do, Paladin." Cade chided. "Remember what I told you? You will burn yourself out and the Brotherhood can ill afford to lose you."

  "I'll see to it that he takes time off after our successful operation." Backhand stated firmly. Cade raised an eyebrow at that and Danse flushed across the bridge of his nose, stuttering a little. "Your health is important to me, Danse. You can be as stubborn as you want, but I'm not letting you weasel out of this." 

  "I suppose that will have to do." Cade sighed. "Do you have any questions for me, Paladin?"

  Danse shot a sidelong glance at Vega that she was relatively certain she wasn't supposed to see, the large man worrying his lower lip. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part, though, as Danse shook his head after a moment. "No, I...I just have some reflection to do." He got to his feet abruptly, saluting both Cade and Elizabeth. "Ad Victoriam, Knight-Captain. Ad Victoriam, General Vega."

  Cade returned the salute absently, already absorbed in writing something else down. Vega was a little slower, her query of, "do you need me, Danse?" coming out softer than she had intended.

  She wanted to believe that the paladin hesitated before he replied, "No, General Vega. I can manage."

Part Eighteen

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 3 of 26

Title: Acceptance (The Southern Reach #3) (2014) - REREAD

Author: Jeff VanderMeer

Genre/Tags: Horror, Science Fiction, Ecological Horror, Cosmic Horror, Weird, First-Person, Second-Person, Third-Person, Unreliable Narrator, Female Protagonists, LGBT Protagonist

Rating: 10/10

Date Began: 1/11/2021

Date Finished: 1/20/2021

Area X, a self-aware wilderness along the coast, has existed for decades behind a mysterious border. The landscape itself annihilates humans and repurposes them for its own ends. Hundreds of people have died attempting to uncover its secrets. But no one has yet discovered its origins or true purpose.

Now, Area X has spread past its former borders, perhaps to the entire world. Acceptance follows several key figures through the history of Area X, and their attempts to fight against an impossible threat.  

You feel numb and you feel broken, but there’s a strange relief mixed in with the regret: to come such a long way, to come to a halt here, without knowing how it will turn out, and yet... to rest. To come to rest. Finally. All your plans back at the Southern Reach, the agonizing and constant fear of failure or worse, the price of that... all of it leaking out into the sand beside you in gritty red pearls. 

Full review, major spoilers, and content warning(s) under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Extreme body horror, altered states of mind, and psychological manipulation, including hypnosis. Several characters lose their sanity, and you see it happen in real time from their perspective. Intentional self-harm/mutilation as a plot point. Some violence and gore. There are brief references to animal abuse and terminal cancer. Not many happy endings in this one.  

This review contains major series spoilers. It’s also super long, as the book covers a lot of material. 

Acceptance is the most narratively ambitious book in the Southern Reach trilogy. While Annihilation and Authority feature a single protagonist/perspective, this one has four rotating POVs and one guest narrator partway through the book. It also covers a broader timeline than previous entries, from the origins of Area X 30-ish years ago to the ongoing present-day apocalypse. Acceptance is one of the few books I've read that utilizes first-, second-, AND third-person narration in a single volume, adopting whichever one makes the most sense for the character and their situation

While this sounds complicated, it's basically just a way to tell four different stories at the same time. VanderMeer also uses each storyline to address the major questions of the series. How did Area X come to be? What happened to the biologist? What was the former director of the Southern Reach trying to accomplish? And perhaps most pressing-- what is the fate of the world now that Area X has spread? Not everything is resolved, but it's definitely a conclusion.

The stories have some unifying connections, containing similar themes and callbacks/references to each other. However, for the purposes of this review I will be looking at each story and protagonist individually.

First up is Saul Evans the lighthouse keeper. He's been mentioned before, but never in much detail. Going in, we know a few things-- (1) he knew the director/Cynthia when she was a child and (2) something happened to him that turned him into the Crawler, the eldritch creature which writes the sermon on the walls of the tower in Area X. In Acceptance, we learn he's a former preacher who had a crisis of faith and left his old life, taking up the role of lighthouse keeper on the forgotten coast. It's implied this is partially due to him realizing he's gay and fleeing the resulting homophobic fallout. His past vocation explains the elevated, sermonic language of the words in the tower.

From the onset Saul is an intensely likeable character. He's trying to build a happier and more genuine life for himself. This part probably takes place during the 70s or 80s, but he's cautiously optimistic about his new life with a local fisherman named Charlie. He also forms an unlikely friendship with Gloria (aka Cynthia), a local kid who loves exploring the coast. However, he is tormented by the "Séance and Science Brigade", a shady organization that investigates/worships(?) paranormal phenomena. They sabotage the lighthouse beacon, which we learned in Authority is a marvelous piece of technology with a mysterious history. Shortly after, Saul accidentally absorbs a fragment of the beacon into himself, and shit goes downhill real fast.

While the catalyst of Area X may seem a little weird, the reader can piece together that part of the beacon has extraterrestrial origins, and Saul unintentionally activates part of it. The gradual shift from a normal life to something deeply unsettling has its appeal. I especially like seeing his logs/journal entries and how they devolve as proto-Area X overtakes his mind. The disturbing bar scene near the end is great as well. We know going in that this story has a bad ending (from a human perspective), but learning specifics about Saul as a person gives this more impact. Saul's is a sad tale of a man who wants to make a better life for himself and gets screwed over by bad luck.

Cynthia/Gloria/the former director is the next perspective character. In Annihilation she serves as the antagonist, but in Authority we learn it isn't that simple. She had ulterior motives, handpicking the biologist for the expedition in order to use her as a weapon against Area X. And, of course, we learn she was the little girl in that old picture of Saul, which means she probably grew up there before the border came down. 

This part opens with Cynthia/Gloria's death as "the psychologist" in Annihilation, but told from her perspective. From there, the pacing is a little slow, in similar style to Authority. We learn how Cynthia lived her daily life, how she infiltrated the Southern Reach, and her interpersonal relationships with Grace, Whitby, and Lowry. However, her storyline ramps up when detailing Area X and the lead up to twelfth expedition. Lots of old scenes/dynamics from Annihilation hit different with the new context. Especially interesting is the interview between Cynthia and the biologist; turns out there was a lot more context that the biologist obscured in her story. On some level we already knew she was an unreliable narrator, but it's fun to have it pop up again in a different book entirely.

I admire how VanderMeer makes someone who comes off as a throwaway villain into the one of the most complex, important characters in the series. This part is also really cool as it's written in second-person perspective, and the story justification for this (Area X examining her memories) is neat. While I like Cynthia's characterization in this part, the additional bits in Saul's story and his interactions with Gloria add helpful context and emotional impact. The end of the book being her letter to Saul is so damn sad.

The third main storyline follows Control and Ghost Bird in the "current" timeline-- exploring Area X in the immediate fallout of Authority. I love this part for several reasons. The contrast between the two leads and how they perceive themselves, Area X, and the current situation is great. Control is very much losing control, feeling "the brightness" taking over (a callback to Annihilation). Meanwhile, Ghost Bird is in her element, seeing and experiencing things the regular human characters do not. There's the sense that she's truly something "new" in terms of both humanity and Area X.

We also learn a ton of stuff about Area X that is hinted in earlier volumes but confirmed in Acceptance. (MAJOR SPOILERS) The first is that Area X isn't on Earth at all; something briefly hinted at in Annihilation, when the biologist doesn't recognize the stars in the sky.  Instead it mimics Earth, or something representative of it. The second big thing is that time works differently here. The uncanny state of decay noted in earlier books isn't actually a direct result of Area X. It's just the passage of time, because way more time passes in Area X compared to the "real" world.

The guest narrator/story is told within the Control/Ghost Bird storyline. The two meet up with Grace, who has managed to survive the Area X attack on the Southern Reach. She took shelter on the mysterious northern island and discovered an old journal written by... the biologist from Annihilation, which details what happened to her over the last THIRTY YEARS (yeah, the time thing) until she finally decided to give into Area X.

This section is sobering and sad; basically a glimpse at how the biologist's isolation slowly made her go mad. She finds an owl (hello cover) that she believes is her husband post Area X conversion and the two live together for decades. When it dies, the biologist loses the will to keep fighting Area X. It's ambiguous if the owl really is her husband, or if she's just projecting, but her heartbreak at the end is probably the strongest emotion she shows in the series. But what is interesting about this part is it confirms a cool detail. Injury and pain can halt the progression of "the brightness" within someone. Which is how the biologist managed to survive 30 years, how Grace survived what turns out to be 3 years, and so on. Even more interesting, when someone DOES finally succumb after warding off the brightness this way, they turn into something more strange and alien. Hence the moaning creature, and Saul/the Crawler. It's also probably why some creatures have incongruencies, like the dolphins with human eyes.

The biologist? She transformed into a giant, oceanic eldritch abomination COVERED in eyes. Just primo aesthetic. We get to see her from both Ghost Bird and Control's perspectives. Ghost Bird feels solidarity and a sort of euphoria meeting her alternate self. Control... basically breaks in the face of something like that, full cosmic horror style. Again, the contrast here is really appealing to me.

Both of their story arcs end in a way that is narratively satisfying, though the ending is open. The future seems hopeful in a bittersweet way, but presumably Area X has destroyed humanity as we know it. Whether that's a good or bad thing depends on your perspective and is a central thesis of the series.

So, I said I'd discuss how this series approaches aliens. While there's an appeal to anthropomorphic alien species one can talk to and communicate with, I think an "unknowable" perspective is more realistic. After all, who's to say alien life formed under similar conditions or has any resemblance to our own? The extraterrestrial element in The Southern Reach is very much this type. But it's a fine line to walk in fiction, because handwaving the weird alien stuff as impossible to comprehend (and thus conveniently ducking any responsibility for explaining it) is lazy writing when done wrong.

The thing I find interesting about this series is the human characters understand lots of the what of the alien elements, but not the why. For example, Area X transforms humans into various plants and animals. We know it instills a sense of "brightness" in humans exposed for too long, which encourages assimilation into itself. Humans infected in this way, even if horrified or resistant, have thoughts of this being inevitable, even a good thing. The biologist takes samples in Annihilation and finds several plants and animals have human cells. Control logically knows what Area X does to people, but he is ultimately helpless to resist the process when he experiences it firsthand.

As for the why of it all... we don't really know! There's multiple ideas presented throughout the story. Ghost Bird probably gets closest to the "truth"; that Area X is part of a machine organism from a dead alien civilization, and that it has a bizarre effect on Earth's biology based on its now defunct programming. Other worlds would have their own Area Xes based on this idea, as it's implied the Earth version is just one piece of many. But it's worth noting that Ghost Bird is a creation of Area X and sees things differently than the other characters. Unreliable narration is ironically consistent through the series. So it's hard to say if this is true or not; perhaps it's silly to think any explanation would be understandable to a human mind. Obsession with finding the answer is a recurring theme that drives characters insane. I think this is an interesting compromise when discussing the unknowable; to have some facts and theories but not necessarily a concrete answer. 

If I have a criticism for this book, it's the role of the "Séance and Science Brigade", especially in Saul's storyline. While they're set up earlier in the series, we only really see them in this book. Our limited perspective via Saul leaves a lot of ambiguity as to their purpose, function, and goals. There's an implication that Control's family influenced the organization's decision to sabotage the beacon and create Area X. But I consider the subplot with Control's mom/grandfather to be one of the weaker ones in the series, and this book didn't help. The S&SB comes off as campy and ineffectual, which is perhaps intentional? But since they're narratively the fanatics who caused Area X to happen, I really wish they felt more sinister and impactful. There's some attempt to make them scary, but it's not very convincing when compared to Area X. Kind of like a Saturday morning cartoon villain vs the unknowable cosmic horror of the universe. This is a nitpick, though.

While rereading the series, I discovered there's a planned fourth book which may or may not star a minor character from Saul's story. I'm interested to see what else there is to explore about Area X and the Southern Reach. As it stands, I still really like this series. Between the horror and general weirdness, it's not for everyone, but it sure does appeal to me. I think this is one of those series that you'll either adore or hate. Obviously I recommend it.

[sylvie-writes]

Paint the Town

This goes out to my precious anon who requested some fluff with our loveable Steve. I apologize for the long wait! My power went out so no WiFi and some very bad reception. (So if it went through twice here’s why) anyhoo, I hope you enjoy it, nonnie!

If there was one way Steve could describe you, it would be that you are like a bright light in a dark room. Anytime Steve would see you, it’s like his day got better instantly. So after sparing Bucky and getting cleaned up, he ventured off to the kitchen to find you. He could only imagine that you were trying to flip pancakes or maybe even goofing off with Sam, but when he walked in to find you sitting at the counter gloomily eating a bowl of cereal, his heart sank deep into the pit of his stomach. How could his loveable (y/n) be sad when the day had just started?

Steve carefully walked to the counter, approaching you as if you were a baby deer, easily able to be frightened.

“Hi Darling.” You could feel Steve’s warm hands on your shoulders and his lips to the crown of your head. Attempting to muster up all your energy, you turned to Steve and gave him a small smile to which he frowned.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You didn’t feel like talking at the moment, so shaking your head would have to do.

Steve knew everything, he was your husband after all. He could tell when you were sick or upset or even when you were over the moon ecstatic! It hurt him to see you so downcast.

They say when you are in love you’ll do anything. Steven Grant Rogers wasn’t just your husband, he was your best friend. The man who would always have your back, the man who would love you unconditionally.

As you finished up the bowl of cereal, an idea came to Steve’s mind. You hadn’t even seen the look of excitement on his face while you got up to go clean the bowl. The running water and slow movements of the sponge kept you in a trance, making you jump when Steve wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I have an idea.” His lips were right up against your ear as he whispered, making you giggle and bringing a grin to his face.

One large hand reached over you to shut off the water, while the other went to grab the bowl and put it in the dishwasher. You turned around to be met with Steve’s broad chest and his beaming smile looking down on you. You couldn’t help but smile at his childlike enthusiasm, it was the first time today that you truly smiled.

Placing your smaller hands on his unusually, large biceps, you slowly rubbed your hands up and down in a soothing manner.

“How about I take you around Brooklyn today? Show you the places I went as a kid.” He playfully winked at you in a manner so you couldn’t reject his offer. Rolling your eyes, you agreed and he happily kissed your lips, catching you off guard.

When you both got in the car, he was talking faster than an auctioneer, spitting off the day's agenda. You couldn’t believe how this man, the one who was the literal definition of seriousness, was acting as if he were a child on Christmas morning. If the team had seen how the Captain was so let loose at the moment, you were positive they’d think that Steve had lost a few screws of his own.

“I can show you my old apartment, oh and this amazing place Bucky and I would go for lunch sometimes!”

Not even a second went by before you kissed his cheek, preventing him from babbling anymore.

“I’ve never seen you this excited for anything before, honey.” Steve’s face grew a faint hint of a blush. Lightly giggling at his reaction, you reached for his hand that wasn’t on the wheel.

Soon after, Steve pulled up to an old apartment building that looked vacant. He was quick to jump from the car and extended his hand out for yours, helping you out of. As you walked, you looked up at the old building, imagining your Steve living in his own timeline.

“I promise, doll, that back then, it looked a lot better.”

“I don’t doubt it, hon. The vintage charm, I think it’s cute!”

Steve cautiously led you up the old metal staircase until he reached the floor of his apartment. As Steve searched around for the brick that hid the key, you looked over the railing and out at Brooklyn. It may have been rundown now, but back then it was Steve’s home and your heart warmed at the thought.

“Ready?” Your husband held up the small key and you eagerly nodded, leaping forward to interlock your arm with his.

Upon entering the small apartment, you saw a humble little sofa covered by a ripped plastic wrap, a few wooden frames on the wall and a small kitchenette. The sun shone through the window and you could see the dust floating in the air.

“Sorry about the mess, but home sweet home!” The one thing about Steve was no matter the situation, he’d always try to be optimistic and you loved him immensely for that.

“It looks amazing for being empty for almost 70 years.” This time you gave him a playful wink and walked away to go look at the pictures on the wall.

You gasped as the picture presented a boyish Steve and young Bucky.

“Steve is that you? You’re absolutely adorable!” He couldn’t believe that you were gushing over him. If anything, he still expected for you to ridicule him like the women did way back when.

“I am glad you think that. You know how many girls rejected me?”

You turned around in disbelief to see Steve bashfully standing there with his hands in his pockets, like a puppy with its tail between its legs.

“Aww Stevie! That’s terrible.”

When you placed your hands on his face, it was a comforting mechanism, reminding him of how much you love you have for the man.

Because you threw the dog a bone, it perked up. Steve instantly regained his excitement and clasped your hand in his.

“Looking back, I kinda think it’s funny.” A shy smile grew on his face before he continued his thought. “How about we head to lunch and I’ll tell you the story on the way.”

“Sounds good!”

The pizzeria was just a few blocks away, so you both opted to walk. Currently, the weather was comfortable and you were able to enjoy the walk while laughing with Steve as he recalled the time Bucky invited him to the Stark Expo.

“Oh, I can’t even imagine how that must’ve felt!” In an attempt to sympathize with him, you squeezed his arm closer to you.

“Well, I mean if she hadn’t left me for Bucky, I wouldn’t have wandered off to recruitment and I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Steve always found a way to make you blush, even though you had known him for years. The man very well knew what he was doing and leaned down to kiss your nose. You couldn’t help but agree with what he had said. Part of you felt guilty for being glad that girl ditched him, but then again life would be so different if she hadn’t.

Your gentleman of a husband held open the door to the restaurant and you were instantly greeted with the intoxicating smell of oven cooked pizza.

You let Steve order since he was so giddy to take you there in the first place. To your surprise when a pepperoni pizza was placed on the table you were only a little disappointed till you took the first bite.

“Oh my god! Steve, this is amazing!”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t just any plain pepperoni pizza. You had set your expectations so low that when you took the first bite, it was an other worldly experience.

Steve laughed at your reaction and reached over to wipe the pizza sauce on your face. You slightly blushed once again, and he just smiled, resting his thumb on your chin. Steve bore into your eyes with a loving gaze which you returned. Honestly you both looked like lovesick fools, but who’s to judge when you both are so happy!

“Are you having a good time?” There was a look of worry on his face, afraid that he had let you down.

“Oh, sweetheart! I’m having the best time. Thank you for making today so much better!” A wave of relief washed over his face and he took your hand giving a kiss on the back of it.

That was when you realized Steven Grant Rogers would always be there for you. He was the little guy from Brooklyn who you could always rely on. His heart was always in the best place and he never failed to make your whole day enjoyable.

[rocinantescoffeestop]

You’ll Make It So Damn Big (for all the world to see)

A/N: A warm-up drabble that turned into an interpretation of Eobard Thawne’s speedforce origins.

[Read on AO3]

It feels like everybody around him is growing up. The world turns into a frenzy, as every which way the winds are blowing, but Eobard – the young Thawne standing on the precipice of adulthood – looks out on all sides and realises he’s not one of them. The winds are swirling, almost all in the same direction, but his feet are stuck to the ground, cemented in his past, a prison of his own making; His history holds him.

He still feels that, someday, he’ll make a name for himself. Just like his parents did and now want for him, just like the Thawne lineage predetermines, yet the wish he’d make is for the way of getting there – if only it wasn’t riddled with so many holes, hills, walls, and chasms to leap across. He wishes that the way he’d get there – his mandatory future – had support beams and bright lights. However, the only light for him is the hope glimmering at the end – a candlelight only one person cast upon him (a person who doesn’t even know who he is).

The thing about unrequited love is that it almost never pans out, and the back of his mind tells him this every single day. Phrases of You’ll never meet him and Find a different passion, a more sustainable one configure inside his mind, almost all sounding like someone he knows, and whatever configuration the words are in, the idea is the same: give up, go home, fall in line with the whipping whirlwinds, the status quo, and make a mansion inside of that. That’s what his father did, and a highly esteemed politician he made: governor currently campaigning for senator where a bigger name could be made. Make something like that. That’s what his mother did, and prize-worthy, scientific breakthroughs she’s already made, not to mention the world-winning books for which she’s gone on tours.

How many times has Eobard dressed for a public event congratulating his parents on their mighty achievements? How many times has he laid awake at night, wondering how on Earth he was going to top them? How many times did he fume when he saw his brother’s report card on the fridge when his own straight A’s were never satisfactory? How much longer does he have to endure this, how much longer until it’s his name written in the clouds, in the stars, uttered from the lips of people across the nation, across the world?

Hopefully soon.

But it’s just his luck that the one idea he’s rooted to feels like a pipedream.

City lights drown out the stars above. He longs to move someplace rural, far removed from the bustle of everyday, where he can see the cosmos. He doesn’t need a firsthand look (although what an adventure going to space would be!), but he wants the steadfastness, it’s array of little pinpricks of hope, just like his, to make him feel less alone.

Once upon a time, he learned the stars made sounds, so maybe he’ll invent a device that lets a human hear the sounds – the actual sounds, not a recreation. Would that be enough? Would people like that, love that, praise him and his ingenuity for that? Or would they still yearn for a greater greatness, juicing the life out of him until he’s left with the bare essentials, the pulp, the carbon form?

If he could scream ‘STOP!’ and earn a breather, he would.

And if he possessed the powers of The Flash, he could. He would race for the Canadian tundra and catch the northern lights, or race up a mountain and sleep on its peak.

At least he’s close. So close, he can taste promise of lightning in his veins. In preparation of the reaction, he has the chemicals in order and the electricity on standby, and he knows how to contain the dark matter wave. What he needs now is... well, all he ever needed. He thought by recreating the speedforce accident, he’d bestow upon himself the confidence he always lacked, but standing here physically prepared to leap, he hesitates in the realisation that the confidence he needs must come a bit sooner than that, lightning before the storm.

It’s a catch twenty-two.

He sees every step ahead of him in crystal clarity, he sees what he gets out of it, but what he lacks for this first step he’ll gain with his last. Can the stars shed light on this conundrum and tell him what to do?

Unfortunately, stars don’t exist in the city.

Eobard exhales, his lungs fogging up the two a.m. air. The murky navy-brown of sky mirrors in his eyes. Once, they seemed so clear, so decisive. Why can’t he call upon the twenty-year-old him for this? Better yet, his seven-year-old body and mind, all fascination and no doubt. All eagerness, no fear. Perhaps society’s ruined him. Perhaps his parents’ values have snuck their power around him like ivy. Perhaps he isn’t cut out for this after all.

“Of course, you are,” he grumbles to himself. “No one else is bold enough– let alone smart enough– to piece together any of what you did!”

Perhaps he just doesn’t want too.

He lifts his forearms off the railing he’s leaning against, and fingers fasten around the metal, turning his knuckles white.

Amber lights wash over the storage district of Keystone City spreading before him. It’s the cheapest place he found where he could set up his experiments; the undisclosed building he rents reside near a crisscross of highways, over and under-passing each other over. It’s his safe haven for all scientific pursuits – the legal research of a quantum physicist, and the illegal research of a speedforce-enthused young man.

Do you really want this? a part of him insists on asking again. The buzzing silence with which the rest of his mind replies scares him.

Yes. Yes! Of course I want this!

His feet break contact with the fire escape. His hands shove off from the rail.

Then, stop thinking and get the fuck inside.

Eobard spins on his heel and wrenches the emergency exit open. He steps into the rented facility and makes his way through tables and equipment, until he’s reached his chemical set up. There’s a viewing deck – small – cluttered with a couple monitors, matching keyboards, and a mug drained of tea. To the right is the contraption he’ll step inside, shining stainless steel and clear vials and straps to which his wrists and feet will be bound. In all its glory, it looks unpleasant, but appearances don’t matter – he repeats it like a mantra to appease his fluttering stomach – as it’s a means to an end only he will be experiencing. Risks have to be taken if anything is to be made of yourself.

The young Thawne takes to the viewing platform and pulls aside a monitor. Checking levels, checking contraption ability. Checking twice, then thrice. Stalling? No. Ensuring his safety? That’s more like it. The calculations, they appear sound, so Eobard hovers his fingers above go.

When he presses, he’ll have a minute. A minute until true ‘go’, a minute to prepare himself, a minute to slide into the machine and wait. If I press now, he promises, only sixty seconds stand between me and The Flash.

So, press now.

Only twenty-four years old (and a few more months until his next number up), and he’s on the verge of unlocking a brave new world for himself. His father didn’t win his first court case until twenty-seven. His mother didn’t make her first discovery until twenty-six. His brother still hasn’t done anything remarkable. I’ll be ahead of the curve.

So, maybe I’m not as much of a lost cause as everybody thought.

Guilt and the shame shed from his skin the second he presses into the space bar.

Eobard sets himself up inside the machine; steel bands wrap around his wrists and clamp around around his ankles. The machine’s generator starts to whir, glass vials of multicoloured liquid begin to drain, a rainbow, into and underneath his skin. Into me! The machine vibrates– so heavily it vibrates that the floor itself begins to rumble with power. His power, he made it. And he can taste it better than he ever has: a promise.

I’m ready.

—

An explosion rips through his body. It’s of white fire, all his nerves igniting with pure light. His eyes, his nose, his mouth fill with brilliance. His ears ring with blazing song. The metal cuffs dig into his skin as he body tries to fly forward.

At first, he thinks he’s grown numb; perhaps his calculations were off, perhaps he’s dead now and this is it; his stomach rolls and knots itself; but mere seconds after the thought, all thoughts knock away as he slams down. The floor beneath him is cold and rough, and it should have hurt. All he feels, however, is the fire of explosion.

The whiteness dies from his eyes. His eyes return to the compound, everything coming into focus only tinted in red. Around his body, blood still races a warmth, a cosmic warmth, the same warmth he feels gazing at the milky way they’re situated inside while his feet stand on grass – a warmth it is as if the universe were wrapping him in blankets.

Electricity shivers up and down his spine, and peering down at his hands, he notices his nerves aren’t the only thing dancing at impossible speeds. He hands and ankles shiver through the metal cuffs, which fall unceremoniously (and broken) to the floor.

Have I done it?

By analysing the current evidence, he suspects so, and his mind starts leaping to further conclusions and future tests, but at the present moment with relief and excitement and glee and triumph shooting up and flushing the nerves straight out of his system, there is really only one thing to do now. Only one way can he prove if he’s really done it, if he’s really become The Flash of the future...

Eobard steps forward, cautiously optimistic...

That single step takes him to the other side of the room.

Exhilarating!

What would twenty do? he thinks, counting as he bursts out of the building. Thirty? Sixty!? A hundred?!

Eobard Thawne bursts into the night, a streak of red following him the entire way out. Sneakers slapping against the road, he rushes through wind which shoves over trash cans and swirls litter into the air. He follows the curving, ramping highway, beating cars in a spontaneous race. The coat around him heats to an uncomfortable degree, so he throws it off, and once it’s off, it’s void, it’s out of his mind. I’m running! His feet are slapping and his thoughts are racing and every details is sharp, pristine. His heart is pumping, each pound five times stronger than ever before–!

Before long, he’s out of the city.

He’s out of the state–

–out of the country, before he comes out of autopilot.

The lightning fades when his feet skid against permafrost, limbs lit up for a second as red crackles around them, a sign of transferring energy – motion to rest. The air he huffs from his lungs condenses into a greater cloud than it did in Keystone. He knows it’s could, he feels the chill gracing his arms beneath his long-sleeve with goosebumps, but it doesn’t quench the redhot now filling him up inside. Cold is no match against raw power, and this raw power is his gasoline; he can run with it forever and ever, never batting an eye.

He tilts his head to the sky. A beautiful spread of cosmic wonder, through which northern lights flow – a river of green, violet, and red. The stars, at last, are his to see. He breathes, in and out.

You’ve made it, Eo. For all the world to see.

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, micmic022!

Today, we wish @micmic022​ a very Happy Birthday! We hope you’re having a wonderful day so far, and got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To keep your special day going, the lovely @endlessnightlock​ has written a story just for you!

“So this is it,” Katniss Everdeen - no it was Mellark now, Peeta would have to remember that - remarked as she opened the door to the small house. She indicated with a tilt of her head that he should follow her inside once she stepped over the threshold. “It’s not much, but we manage,” she continued, reaching around and shutting the door behind him. “Things’ll be easier now that we’ve got you to help.”

His new wife hesitated before tilting her pointed little chin in defiance of whatever preconceived notion was floating through her head, one that must’ve been telling her Peeta would think this house, which was clean and tidy and cozy-looking even if it were a bit time-worn, wasn’t good enough for him. “It’s not as nice as what you’re used to at the bakery, but we’re comfortable here. You’ll be free to do whatever you like, just so long as you help me with the heavy work.”

Even though he was now married to her, Peeta didn’t know much about Katniss Everdeen other than public information, like the fact that she’d opened her butcher shop in the Seam not long after the Capitol fell five years ago. That year would’ve been her fifth reaping and his second.

Despite being a bit in the dark on details of her, he felt optimistic about his chances of making a place for himself in this home with both her and her sister Primrose.

The current situation had to be an improvement over continuing to live with his mother and father.

When she’d approached them, Katniss told his parents that she needed more help at her shop. She would be willing to take Peeta on as a husband if they weren’t opposed to the match.

Of course they weren’t, him being third in line for a business where they couldn't afford to keep him on any longer.

He could be very useful to her, Katniss said.

Peeta had been surprised but not opposed to the idea. The issue was more that he couldn’t begin to imagine why she would’ve picked him.

Katniss was a well-respected businesswoman who was also both young and attractive. He didn’t know why she’d resorted to bargaining for a husband, it seemed as though she’d been beating prospective suitors off with a stick for years now.

Maybe it was because of the bread he’d given to her in the past.

Peeta shook his head at that thought- the bread had been such a small thing. That couldn’t be why- it was just that the incident was the only connection he shared with her.

Whatever Katniss’s reason had been, Peeta was cautiously optimistic about being here as Prim smiled at him from across the room.

kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpk

The three of them ate the dinner Prim had prepared ahead of time shortly after they arrived at the house, just after Peeta finished carrying his things inside. He left his bag and box next to the front door where Katniss indicated he should.

In a typical marriage, there would be a toasting after the evening meal. The ceremony wasn’t necessary, the two of them had done all that was required by law. Katniss and Peeta had signed the license during the short window of time that had been allocated to them between the bakery closing for the day and the Justice Building locking its doors.

Instead of a toasting, there was a meal full of Prim’s friendly chatter and Katniss’s murmured responses, followed by the three of them sitting by the fire he’d started in the living area.

Prim passed the time working on a quilt while Katniss carefully sharpened her knives on a large flintstone. “It saves me time in the morning,” his new wife explained quietly, never looking up from her tools.

Peeta kept his thoughts mostly to himself other than a few words exchanged with Prim about her pet goat, unsure yet what was expected of him or what his role would be in this new little family.

It felt a little strained at times but was mostly a pleasant way to while away the time.

When the fire had burned down and it was time for them to retire, Katniss stood up and stared at a fixed point on the wall, just over his shoulder, before addressing him.

Peeta couldn’t help but be awed of her quiet authority. She was so different from his mother, a woman who used brute force and a raised voice to get her point across. She would be a good mother if I ever had that chance with her, he surprised himself by thinking.

He was getting ahead of himself.

“We don’t have a second bedroom,” Katniss told him. This was what he’d been expecting, a speech about having a platonic marriage. And that was fine. Whatever she wanted.

“Katniss,” Peeta cut her off, thinking it was probably the first time he’d called her by her name, “it’s fine. I can sleep-“

She interrupted him before he could get further into his speech. “And Prim sleeps out here on the couch. You’ll be in the bedroom with me.”

Oh.

Peeta swallowed nervously. In the tension-filled silence, he swore he could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

Until Prim broke the lull by giggling from her place across the room, of course.

Katniss sent her sister a scowl that managed to get the younger girl’s laughter under control, before striding nonchalantly past Peeta to the washroom where she shut the door quickly behind her.

“Well you heard her, I guess,” Prim bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. She was at least trying to get herself under control, he supposed

At least one of them found this amusing.

“Bedroom is that way,” Prim told him helpfully, pointing to the far corner of the house.

kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkp

Peeta sat on the edge of the quilt-covered bed, still in the clothes he’d worn for the appointment at the Justice Building earlier that day. He was anxiously waiting for his wife to join him in the room.

He was a nervous wreck- excited, full of anticipation, scared-as-shit; mostly he was having a hard time comprehending that this woman he’d barely spoken with wanted him to make love to her. Apparently.

It’s not like Peeta was completely inexperienced, he’d kissed a few girls from school and had even gone a little farther than that with the grocer’s daughter at a party when they’d both drank more white liquor than either was equipped to handle, but sex?

He’d never even come close to sex.

And Katniss was older- only three years, but what if she’d had a string of experienced lovers? He didn’t want to disappoint her, but a part of him knew it was inevitable.

But then again... there was the other point. Sex. With a beautiful woman.

His wife.

And Peeta still didn’t know why she’d chosen him.

Katniss stepped into the room then, interrupting his thoughts, walking so softly he almost didn’t hear her.

She’d changed into a long faded floral print nightgown that began at her neck and flowed down to her ankles and wrists. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her hair was unbraided, loose and soft around her shoulders, and there were all of these little wispy hairs sticking up around her hairline as if she’d just finished washing her face.

Katniss looked fresh and young and impossibly pretty, and he swore that his heart skipped a beat.

“Would you mind getting up for a minute?” she asked softly. “I need to turn down the covers.”

Peeta stood quickly and moved out of the way, hoping this sense of not knowing what to do with himself would fade soon. His pulse was thrumming through every pressure point in his body- he’d give anything to know what she expected of him.

Katniss went to the other side of the bed and pulled the covers back before casually climbing in.

He told himself to relax.

Once she was under the blankets, she glanced over to where he stood indecisively. “Do you typically sleep in your clothes?” she asked wryly.

Peeta felt the heat race up his face. “No, I just wasn’t sure what I should do,” he admitted, aware that he was making an absolute mess of this.

Katniss glanced away again, after a so-quick-Peeta-almost-missed-it perusal of his body. Things were tense for a moment between them before she spoke again,

“I don’t want to do anything tonight. I mean,” she began, “I don’t want to have...”

The stutter in her voice was like a balm to his nerves. Peeta immediately felt some of the tension escape from his body.

Katniss was unsure of herself as well, maybe even as much as he was.

“I don’t want to sleep with you tonight,” Katniss finally managed to finish getting out. “I’m not ready for that with you, yet.”

Yet?

The word yet felt doable. A word like yet meant that he had time to think about things- yet was like a far-off promise that neither of them had to fulfill any time soon.

“Oh that’s fine,” Peeta said.

At her inquisitive look, he exhaled sharply, figuring that he ought to explain himself. Most eighteen-year-old men probably wouldn’t have had that reaction, Peeta realized.

“Not that I wouldn’t want to,” he began, sensing the way Katniss began drawing into herself almost immediately. He didn’t want her to doubt her attractiveness for a moment, “you’re a beautiful woman.”

Peeta watched, fascinated while she flushed a lovely shade of deep pink.

Katniss looked away then, mumbling something about him being a flatterer as she slid beneath the covers. She wouldn’t look at him but continued to stare up at the ceiling as he removed his pants and shirt, leaving him in his boxers and undershirt.

“I usually just sleep in these because I get pretty warm at night. I don’t own any pajamas. I could get some if you’d like, though.”

“It’s fine,” she told him, eyes still focused straight ahead while he pulled the covers back. Noticing how stiff she still seemed, he decided to try and get her to relax a bit.

Peeta didn’t know why but he had this compulsion to make her smile.

“You can look at me all you want, you know. I don’t mind if you see me,” he said as he climbed in beside her. “I’m yours to do with what you want now, anyway.” Katniss groaned, and he laughed a little at his joke (it wasn’t really a joke though, was it?) as he lay back on the bed.

Once he was settled, she glanced at him, her mouth turned up a little in one corner in mild amusement. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mellark,” she told him.

A few moments later, when they were both settled, Katniss turned out the light.

As Peeta lay beside her in the still and quiet, the darkness gave him a boldness he hadn’t felt until then. Maybe it was that yet word giving him hope like perhaps she wanted this to become a real marriage between them and not just a paper one.

“You never said, Katniss. Why me?” he asked, rolling onto his side to look at her, just managing to make out her features in the dark. “Couldn’t you have found someone with better prospects than me to marry?”

“You’re very direct,” she told him, evasively.

Peeta laughed under his breath. “When something is weighing on my mind, yes I am direct.”

After a long moment, one where he was beginning to think she wasn’t going to answer, Katniss sighed. “It was simple really. You needed my help.”

That made him pause.

“I know about the things your mother has always done to you, Peeta.”

So someone had noticed the bruises, the occasional broken bones. The “accidental” burns. Katniss had noticed.

“And you helped me once. You were kind to me when nobody else was.”

She must mean the bread- the loaves he’d given her that winter after her father died in the mines. That bread had meant a beating for him, but on that day Katniss had looked as though she were dying, and he supposed another beating from his mother was worth keeping her alive another day or two.

But now she had paid that small kindness back by… marrying him?

“And I did need extra help in the butcher shop. It just seemed like a good solution,” she explained.

“To marry a stranger?” Peeta asked softly, disbelief evident in his tone. “I just think you could’ve found someone better.”

Katniss stirred, turning over and settling down again before answering him. “You’re the only person who showed any thought to either Prim’s or my welfare then," she said, "so, I don’t know... I just figured if I had to marry it ought to be to a kind man. And I knew you were kind. And strong. And I figured that if you were both kind and strong you were my best option.”

Peeta was completely dumbfounded. “It was just bread,” he whispered. “It wasn’t that much.”

“No, it was more than that. It was hope.” Katniss’s voice sounded like it was growing more distant with sleep.

It was amazing to him that she could relax so soon, lying next to a man she hardly knew.

For the first time in his life, Peeta felt like maybe he could be good enough for someone. Worth something to Katniss at least- her and Prim. She’d given him this chance, and in turn, he would try his best not to let either of them down.

Tentatively, Peeta ran his fingers across the hand she’d left splayed out on the mattress in a light touch.

Her fingers curled around his for a moment before releasing.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered to her, “rest easy.”

It was too soon to feel this way, but Peeta couldn’t help the early stirrings of love that were forming in his heart. He hoped Katniss wouldn’t notice yet, not until she was ready.

He was already a goner.

[lokiondisneyplus]

Within days in mid-March, soundstages in the U.S. went from bustling hubs to abandoned ghost towns as the novel coronavirus forced studios to shut down filming. “There is nothing like being the only person on a movie lot,” says Mark Nicholas, one of few people able to keep working at Manhattan Beach Studios in California in order to assist in the live-streaming of local mayor and sheriff news addresses. “It’s deathly quiet and feels very much like The Walking Dead.”

While most lots sit empty for the foreseeable future, the question atop industry insiders’ minds is how the executives in charge of them plan to handle a production logjam that’s likely to await them on the other side of this crisis. Dozens of films and TV series that had to pack up mid-shoot are expected to compete with previously scheduled projects for limited studio space at a time when production was already at all-time highs — not to mention the scripts writers have been able to safely churn out during the quarantine, only adding to the number of projects that will be ready to jump into production. Notes one insider, “There’s going to be so much jockeying.”

Many in the filming community are bracing for a post-COVID-19 traffic jam. “It’s like a horse race — you’re waiting for the gates to open and everybody’s going to rush out at the same time,” says Claudio Ruben, the head of New Mexico’s Garson Studios. Among the projects at his studio that had to suspend production was Netflix's Idris Elba-fronted Western film The Harder They Fall. (Elba tested positive for COVID-19 on March 16.) As for how it’ll all play out, Ruben is cautiously optimistic. "I think most people are going to be patient and respectful, but I can’t imagine there won't be some jostling in the mix."

Another New Mexican production site, Santa Fe Studios, is fielding already requests from producers anticipating a space crunch. “In the midst of this all, I’m getting phone calls for people who are preparing for the future and want to rent the space,” says Octavio Marin, an executive at the studio that’s home to The CW’s Roswell, New Mexico. With three projects in line now, they are trying to double the size of the facility in the next 12 months to help accommodate the additional productions.

In an effort to manage the unprecedented situation in the fairest way possible, production executives tell The Hollywood Reporter they plan to slide their master filming schedules back however many months the coronavirus outbreak lasts. That would mean prioritizing the projects that couldn’t wrap in time and having other previously slotted productions wait their turn.

It’s currently the plan at Pinewood Studios in Atlanta, a 700-acre facility known for housing tentpole movies and big-budget shows. “What’s happening is everyone is just shifting the production down and, generally speaking, we’re targeting a June 1 return,” says the studio’s president, Frank Patterson, who warns that the date is highly tentative and will depend on when the CDC deems it safe. “At the end of the day, essentially what we're doing is pushing the industry back a few months.”

But it’s not only a matter of when productions can rev back up again — it’s also a question of how they can do so safely. Patterson predicts it is likely they’ll need to implement stricter health and safety standards — something the highly secure facility may be more easily equipped to do than other smaller studios. “We're in collaboration with our studio partners and internal tasks forces to try to determine what these new protocols will be,” says Patterson, who works with major studios including Disney, Warner Bros. and Universal. “What I'm expecting pre-vaccine is something in the form of real-time testing, increased sanitation processes and higher standards for air handling.”

Meanwhile, at Santa Clarita Studios in California, all 27 soundstages were booked ahead of the virus, in large part by broadcast shows. One, CBS’ SWAT, was on its penultimate episode when it had to call it quits. The facility’s president, Mike DeLorenzo, who does business with places like Fox, Sony and ABC, says that his stages are booked out anywhere from six to 18 months from now — but that he’ll do his best to accommodate by pushing dates back: “Whatever time we’re shut down, we will just add that to extend their contract.”

Those contract extensions will only make it harder for newer projects to find available soundstages in the coming months. “Studio space was so tight anyhow, even before the pandemic, that I can only imagine with this shift of schedule that it is going to be a very, very big challenge — one that will need to be met with a lot of creativity and coordination," says California Film Commissioner Colleen Bell, noting there are multiple new studios being built from Los Angeles to the Bay Area.

She adds, “I will have a lot of smart people in the room trying to figure out all of these logistics and operations in order to get everybody back to work and in production as soon as possible.”

[scarlettxmcknight]

Torturous Illusions

Who: Scarlett, Philippa, Delseneca

Where: An empty house on the island

When: February 17

What: Philippa enlists Delseneca’s help in torturing Scarlett and giving her a vision that Booker is the one doing the torturing.

@lostbanrigh @delseneca

Delseneca:  Delseneca was all too happy to have something to do over break. She never celebrated Christmas,the word wasn’t even uttered in her household growing up. She recalled the “holiday” season when she was at the Djinn Training Sanctuary. They served this special blood-wine, which she tried once, and only once. She could still taste it, the severe burn of alcohol, the drink itself extremely bitter. It was the only real connection she had to the holiday, which enver put her in a great mood. When Philippa gave her a project, and one to increase her power, if by proxy if nothing else, she jumped on the opportunity. Philippa had found a place for them to take the slave, away from the campus and most of the residences of the island. 

All it took was one touch, and Scarlett saw, or didn’t see, anything that Delseneca wanted. She started by forcing her to see nothing but darkness, as soon as she touched her and abducted her. Delseneca also made her feel the hands of four others taking her away. Delseneca strapped her down onto a table in the middle of the abandoned home. The walls had been torn down, creating it into one, large room. “For someone so guarded, it sure was easy tricking you,” Delseneca said, replicating Philippa’s mother’s voice. Scarlett wouldn’t be able to see her, but she would at least be able to hear her. Delseneca slapped her face. “Wake up!” she ordered, knowing that no matter how hard Scarlett would try otherwise, all she would see was darkness. “It’s about time you met her. She’s the one I was telling you about, Ridley. She was rather easy to trick. You’re not the only one with that ability, ya know?” she asked Philippa. 

Philippa:  Ridley was excited when Delseneca agreed to join her on her little plan to separate her mom from this human. The idea of Delseneca showing herself as Booker and torturing the girl herself was simply brilliant, better than anything she could’ve done on her own. This would certainly keep the girl away for as long as she needed in order to get her lands.

The nymph sat on the floor as she watched Delseneca slap Scarlett awake, she couldn’t do much thanks to the current weakened state of her body, her bones frail and in pain, but for now she could watch and get excited, prepare herself to later take her potion and join in the fun. “Oh we know each other alright, spoke once not long ago. I must admit, màthair, I thought you had better taste in women, this one is so plain and boring... and a human no less! I don’t think she’ll be able to take much punishment.”

Scarlett: Scarlett was feeling cautiously optimistic, it was almost Christmas Eve and she somehow didn't have some awful person renting her and wrecking her holiday. Despite the annoying dress code requirement, she was enjoying her extended curfew and feeling like this might be a good Christmas.

That was until suddenly everything went dark and more hands than she could count grabbed her and dragged across the island. "What - get off me! What are you doing?" she demanded, fighting against them as hard as she could and trying not to panic that she was somehow blinded. When they arrived wherever they were and she felt them strap her down, she tried again to fight against it. She stilled when she heard a familiar voice though, her head turning while she searched the darkness for the source of the sound. "Booker?" she asked in confusion. The conversation between her and her daughter only made her more confused. "What's going on?"

Delseneca: Scarlett was feeling cautiously optimistic, it was almost Christmas Eve and she somehow didn't have some awful person renting her and wrecking her holiday. Despite the annoying dress code requirement, she was enjoying her extended curfew and feeling like this might be a good Christmas.

That was until suddenly everything went dark and more hands than she could count grabbed her and dragged across the island. "What - get off me! What are you doing?" she demanded, fighting against them as hard as she could and trying not to panic that she was somehow blinded. When they arrived wherever they were and she felt them strap her down, she tried again to fight against it. She stilled when she heard a familiar voice though, her head turning while she searched the darkness for the source of the sound. "Booker?" she asked in confusion. The conversation between her and her daughter only made her more confused. "What's going on?"

Scarlett:  Scarlett listened to Booker talk with Philippa and her brow furrowed. Why was she talking like that? Was she saying it because it was true or because she wanted her daughter to think she wasn't into her anymore? "What? When did you start thinking that?" Scarlett hearing Booker mention her parent issues made her even more confused. She didn't remember even talking to her about her family before now. "No I'm not. And I know you don't think that." she insisted, even if she felt like it sometimes she couldn't imagine Booker saying that about her. Unless she had been faking everything before this.

Philippa: Ridley simply rolled her eyes at Scar’s pathetic little attempts at trying to convince herself that it was all lies. What a stubborn, annoying human, did she need any more proof than “Booker” herself standing there, holding her down and laughing at her face. “Are you dumb or just stubborn as fuck? Do you not understand what’s going on here? You fell for it, you fell for the whole caring and sweet act, you are quite easy to fool, dear.” Ridley chuckled softly. “My mother Zaramian was a Queen, a great and powerful warrior and a brave woman. What the fuck are you? A broken human child with a bunch of issues, nothing else. You simply aren’t good enough.” 

Delseneca: Delseneca was surprised to finally hear her speak. She’d recognized Scarlett from the cells, but never interacted with her. “When did I start thinking that? That would imply I ever thought any differently of you. I always found you to be pathetic,” she said with a smirk, looking the slave over. She walked over and gave a soft tug on her collar. “Don’t you think I’d have claimed you by now if I really cared about you? The only reason I’d ever do such a thing would be to coerce you into thinking you could trust me,” Delseneca told her. This way, if Booker ever did claim Scarlett, the thought could always be in her mind, wondering if her intentions were good, or bad. The djinn let go and looked over at Ridley. “It’s true, I can’t think of a single thing this slave, and your birth mother share in common, Ridley. It’s comical to think I’d want, her” she said with a shrug, referring to Scarlett. “Yet she was stupid enough to fall for it. Delseneca then began to force Scarlett to feel water, rushing over her face, effectively waterboarding her. Finally she stopped. “That’s going to happen each time you say something ridiculous, like “I know you don’t feel that way”. What don’t you understand? I am using you, slave.” 

Scarlett: Scarlett was in denial, she couldn't let herself believe that everything with Booker had been a lie. But so many masters had been terrible to her while she'd been here, she wouldn't put it past someone on the island to stretch out hurting her like this. When she suddenly felt the tug on her collar she jumped at the touch, still seeing nothing but darkness around her so she couldn't see it coming. "I didn't think you liked the claiming thing here..." she tried to reason through what the woman was saying and convince herself this was purely for her daughter's benefit to trick her. 

The moment that water rushed over her face in the darkness, Scarlett screamed and her body thrashed violently against the straps holding her down. Intense fear hit her and she was jarred from confusion to panic. Booker knew how afraid she was of water, and she'd felt terrible when she had almost scared Scarlett in a boat. Was she really that good of an actress or had she had that big of a change of heart that now she would punish her with it? "This isn't you, come on Booker." she tried shakily, hoping to persuade her away from whatever her daughter had put in her head.

Philippa: Ridley’s patience was quickly running out at this human’s stubbornness and she finally got up to approach her. Watching closely and enjoying the screams as Scarlett thrashed desperately when she felt the water over her. “Oh but you are wrong, this is her. Ever wonder where she got all those scars from? You don’t get those simply by fighting animals.” Ridley grabbed Scarlett by the hair and held her in place. “Who do you think taught me how to kill people? How to make them suffer? Everything I know, she taught me.” And it was true, Booker was the one that taught Ridley how to kill a person quickly and how to slowly drain the life out of them. Unfortunately, the years softened her, made her weak and killed her fire, but Delseneca’s imitation was similar to an old version of her mom she knew and admired very much. “And we are gonna show you some of the things she taught me over the years.” 

Delseneca: “Perhaps the most pathetic thing about this, slave, is the fact that the writing has always been on the wall. You probably had to convince yourself for so long that someone like me, would like someone like you.” Delseneca said, her smile coming through in the way she spoke. Scarlett didn’t even need to see her to know how happy Booker was. But, just to make sure Scarlett had no doubt it was Booker, she slowly lifted the dark vision, allowing her to see the situation. She tossed some more water onto her face through a vision, as if that was what snapped her vision back. It would be blurry at first, but eventually Scarlett would be able to see the two of them. However, it wasn’t in an abandoned home. It was four walls of ultra bright white lights, she wouldn’t be able to see anything past the illumination, because there was nothing else. Delseneca figured she could easily change the setting from this point. “Is this enough slave? Happy now? If you question me one more time, I am going to scoop your eyeballs out with my barehands, understood? I’ll send them to each of your sisters,” she threatened. Delseneca looked at Philippa next. “Ridley, go get me that cloot, if ya would,” she asked, motioning to the vision of a blue hand towel in the corner. 

Philippa: Ridley didn’t need to be told twice, she walked over and grabbed the vision towel, bringing it to Delseneca. This brought back so many pleasant memories of the days when her mother still fought for something and showed her how to make people suffer, she felt like an excited child again. “Maybe this will help her accept the way things are now.” Ridley came closer to Scar and grinned. “So, bana-phrionnsa, are you ready to finally embrace reality? I wanna hear you say it out loud. I wanna hear you saying that you understand, that you know my mom doesn’t care about you at all and never will.”

Scarlett: Scarlett's mind raced, wondering why Booker hadn't told her about all of this before. Was it because she thought she would judge her for it, or because she was keeping more than just that secret for this moment? "The Booker I know isn't like that." she said determined. The more she heard Booker talk about it though, the more she remembered her own doubts from when they first started hanging out. She had always wondered why someone like Booker seemed to like someone like her...maybe she had been fooling herself all this time.

The next round of water sent her into a new panic and round of sputtering and flailing on the table. "Fine, fine, okay." she managed, deciding to leave her doubts in her head. She squinted against the light when she could finally start to see again and she looked right at Booker, ignoring Philippa for now. Scarlett tried to get a read on her, to figure out if this was an act for her daughter or if she was really enjoying having tricked her through everything. Her eyes moved to Philippa and she could see the excitement of all this in her face. "Your mom..." she glanced at Booker, knowing she would get more water if she said what she was really thinking. "Booker...doesn't care about me." she slowly said softly. She still didn't fully believe it, but she wanted to avoid anything worse.

Delseneca: Delseneca expected the towel. She knew exactly what it looked like, and felt like considering she had created the vision of it. “I always wanted to know why you hid your family history from me. Did you think, I wouldn’t find out? Were you ashamed? Perhaps you thought that, if I knew your mother abandoned you, then I would keep my distance from you, as well,” Delseneca pondered out loud. It was rather easy looking into Scarlett’s backstory, in fact, she had a bit of respect for Scarlett because of her history. But, she was a slave, and stood in the way of possibly having a kingdom of her own, if Philippa was kind enough to offer some of it to her. She didn’t bank on it or anything, but the possibility itself was too hard to pass up. “I don’t believe ya. Say it with feeling. Or I will just have to show ya how little I care about ya, slave,” the djinn asked her. She placed the towel over her face and again forced her to see darkness. Delseneca sprayed her face with water, over the towel, a standard method of torture, nothing fancy. “I told you, Ridley, she is a stubborn one. Perhaps that’s why she is having such a hard time convincing herself that she’s been had,” she said with a shrug. 

Philippa: As soon as Scar opened up her mouth to speak, Ridley immediately knew that she didn’t believe a single word of what she just said, but she didn’t care, the first step in making her believe it would be forcing her to say it out loud, then slowly her own words would begin to cloud her mind. “If she doesn’t believe it why don’t we just make her? I brought a little something I’ve been meaning to use. Remember that dagger you made me for my 15th birthday?” Ridley opened up her backpack to take a small sheathed dagger from the inside. “Maybe we could let her use it on herself, just a little.” 

Scarlett: Scarlett shook her head a little, "I didn't...I wasnt trying to hide it." she admitted. When she told her to repeat it, she didn't know how to sound more convincing. She still didn't want to believe it, that Booker was suddenly this awful person in front of her who called her slave and tormented her with water, who had played her for a fool. When the towel landed on her face she tried to shake it off and feared what was coming, and sure enough it was exactly what had given her nightmares for months now. She panicked and thrashed against her restraints, "Stop it! Enough!" She pleaded through her coughs and unfortunately familiar feeling of drowning. "Please, no more." Scarlett focused all her energy on not bursting into tears, but she managed to catch the word dagger from Philippa. Her stomach turned and she felt even more despaired that the two had found yet another thing that scared her. She hadn't even told Booker about her fear of knives, she didn't know if it was coincidence that Philippa had thought of this addition or if they somehow knew. "No...no dagger." She pleaded softly.

Delseneca: “This slave thinks she can dictate when, and what we do to her. How adorable,” she said with a sly smirk. Apparently, Scarlett didn’t realize she had zero say in all of this. Delseneca couldn’t help but smirk, realizing just how terrified she became when she heard the word “dagger”. She now understood one of Scarlett’s biggest fears, sensing how her mind changed when hearing the threat. Finally, she pulled back the wet towel, letting her vision return. Delseneca held the towel above the slave’s head, letting it drip onto her face. “Wonderful idea!” she squealed, letting Ridley know it was appropriate to use on the slave. Her attention went back to Scarlett. “I bet, even after this, I could go back to manipulating you, making you think I actually care for you. And you would believe it, wouldn’t you?” she taunted, letting the towel fall with a wet flop on Scarlett’s stomach. 

Philippa: The human’s fear was evident, the dagger was another one of her fears, and Ridley was excited to find this out. The nymph came closer, playing with the wonderfully crafted dagger with a bright, ornamented golden hilt, before bringing it closer so Scar could take a better look at it. The blade itself was pitch black, made out of a rare metal. “This thing goes through skin as if it were butter, wanna see?” Ridley ran the dagger very gently over Scar’s cheek, but even the almost non-existent contact was enough to cut her skin and draw blood. “Now you stay still or I might accidentally take out your eye, and I’m not sure if you want that.”

Scarlett: Scarlett breathed a little easier when the towel was removed from her face. She looked up at Booker and then looked away, wondering if she was being stupid for still thinking this all wasn't true. Booker was right though, even after this, if they stopped now and she talked with Booker alone, she would still try and convince herself that it was all an act and that she knew the real her. But if it was an act all over again...her head hurt from thinking about it and all the fear that had been rushing through her.

When she saw the dagger in front of her, her eyes locked onto it and she tried as hard as she could to crane farther away from it. Philippa eagerly talking about how easily it could hurt her made her muscles tense in fear, and she froze when it touched her cheek. She squeezed her eyes closed as it cut through her skin and she felt blood trickle down her cheek. Scarlett was frozen in fear and didn't move aside from the slight trembling that had started.

Delseneca: Delseneca had known Philippa for quite a long time now. But she really only got to know her since coming to this school. She was surprised, uncovering what the seemingly innocent girl was capable of. Such as, slicing Scarlett’s cheek. “You’re not kiddin! I’m glad ya remember to bring it,” the djinn said, in awe of the ease it cut through her. She did her best to hide how turned on she was by it, not because she was worried about blowing her cover. She just knew that now was not the time to feel aroused. “Now, listen, slave. The only reason I kept you around for as long as I have, is simply because it was fun to manipulate you. And… rather easy, even for a human. I have to keep my skills sharp, you were simply practice,” she said with a shrug. Delseneca ran a hand through Scarlett’s ‘wet’ hair. “It will be fun, after this. Having you sleeping next to me in my bed, pretending again to actually like you. I could then use this blade here, and you wouldn’t even know it till morning. Your entire body sliced open from it,” she said, thinking out loud.

Philippa: Ridley made a small cut in Scar’s cheek and moved the dagger away when she was done, watching the blood trickle down slowly. “Your daggers are always the best quality, máthair.” Ridley smiled at how easily the dagger cut the human’s cheek, her reaction to it was also incredibly satisfying. 

When Delseneca mentioned that Booker and Scar would sleep in the same bed again, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you serious? Are you so stupid as to go back again to her bed after all that she’s done to you? My god, woman, you are a danger to yourself, can’t believe how you’ve managed to stay alive for so long.” Ridley sat on the table and placed the dagger on her lap. “I shouldn’t be surprised, really, some humans are so weak and broken they just go back to their abusers over and over again cause they don’t know better, its only a matter of time until you get killed.” 

Scarlett: Scarlett finally managed to open her eyes and looked right at the dagger again, seeing the bit of her blood that still lingered on it. She turned and looked at Booker in confusion and hurt, "That can't be the only reason you hung around me." she urged quietly. "And I don't think anyone's that good of an actor..." She glanced sideways at Philippa, knowing it would probably make her angrier that she was trying right in front of her. But she had to be sure. "Everything we did together, you can't tell me all of it meant nothing." Maybe it was stupid to keep pushing it, but it was clear she was going to get tortured either way. She turned to Philippa, "Let your mom live her life how she chooses, she's a grown woman."

Delseneca: “To be fair…” Delseneca began, eyeing the blood on Scarlett’s cheek. “It’s not just her. Nearly all humans can be had. They’re a trusting species. Perhaps it is how finite their life is, it makes them this gullible. They would rather trust someone, than waste their time wondering ‘what it’. It’s pathetic, regardless,” she added. Delseneca wiped from of Scarlett’s blood with a finger, then shoved it into her mouth. “If you think that is sad, watch this. I’m assuming that even now, she would still act as if nothing happened. I will raise the stakes. If this girl doesn’t learn her lesson to stay away from me, i will take out her sisters. I will torture them, record it, and send it to Scarlett. As well as their ashes,” she boasted. Delseneca wasn’t kidding, either. She would have no issue murdering her entire family if necessary. “And no, no. It did mean something. It meant what a sorry sap you truly are. Why would someone like me want someone like you?” Delseenca asked, then slapped Scarlett across her face. 

Philippa: “That’s true, humans are an absolutely disastrous species, not the kind that can rule a kingdom and keep it alive for long.” Ridley shrugged, watching as Delseneca took some of the blood on Scarlett’s cheek and then shoved the finger into the human’s mouth, smiling a little. “But I’m not telling her what to do, my mother gets to do as she pleases. I only help out every once in a while and watch when she wants to teach me something new. This is but a small lesson, one you could try to understand too.” Ridley took the dagger again and this time threw it down into the table just in front of Scarlett’s eyes, leaving it stuck right in front of her. “The quicker you understand something, the quicker you can start to move on. But seeing as you are not very bright, this might be a very long lesson.” 

Scarlett: Scarlett hadn't been doing as well as she hoped standing up to what they were doing to her. She usually could check out or be stubborn enough to power through, but between the water and knife and mentally doubting herself, she was getting beaten down fast. When Booker mentioned her sisters though, she snapped back to attention and strained painfully against her restraints. "Don't you dare touch them! Stay away from my family!" she growled angrily, but there was fear in her voice. She groaned when Booker slapped her again and she jumped and tried to crane away from the dagger that was now right in front of her. "Okay, I'll admit whatever you want, just leave my sisters alone. Please." If Booker was willing to threaten her little sisters, then she really wasn't the person Scarlett thought she was.

Delseneca: “Humans never seem to learn. It could be that they die so young, they never learn not to trust others,” she said with a shrug. Delseneca had never seen Philippa so compliant. She really did listen to Booker. It both scared, and intrigued her. She wondered if there was a way to exploit that. It would need to be explored, later. She was distracted anyway, when Scarlett finally shouted in a way she previously hadn’t during their interaction. It was like music to her ears, pinpointing perhaps Scarlett’s greatest weakness. She had a feeling that might be the case, considering Scarlett’s sister was in a wheelchair. “Oh? You think you can tell me what to do? Like you have some sort of power in this? I told you how you can make sure they are unharmed. I am going to try and con you, again. I am going to pretend like I care about you, again. I am going to make you feel as if someone could actually care for you, again. And you are going to remember that I do not care about you. You’ll, hopefully, learn to stay away from me. If you learn this, then I will let your family be. But if not, then I will be forced to hurt them. Understood?” she asked  as she approached the slave closer, standing over her. 

Philippa: Ridley watched in silence as Delseneca kept talking, kept bringing out the worst fears in Scarlett. The djinn was good at this, she could maybe even make a skilled spymaster in court if she ever needed one, once her mother gave her the kingdoms. “Do you think she’ll stay away from you after this?” Ridley looked at the human closely. She was clearly scared, but she was a stubborn one, and the nymph still felt unconvinced. She could believe her words and be over it, sure, but that was too easy, and it was sloppy, she could easily be lying. “We are just scratching the surface with this one here, she doesn’t believe a word she’s sayin’. Let’s do something better now, some McKamey manor kinda shit. Do you remember that big old water tank we used back in the day? Maybe a nice little jump into some icy water is gonna help her out.” Ridley gently brushed some of Scar’s hair away from her face, grinning at her. “How long can you last underwater? We could break a record today.” 

Scarlett: Scarlett looked up at Booker, her eyes wide with fear and anger at the thought of her sisters being involved or hurt. If she wanted the dragon to stay away from them, she had to stay away from her and stop this trying to through. "Fine okay, I get it. I'll stay away from you and you stay away from them." When Ridley seemed unsatisfied and itching for more torture, she couldn't say she was surprised. The thought of an icy water tank scared her like the other water did but she tried not to panic. "I said I get it! Okay? I'll stay away from your mom you don't need to keep doing this." She pleaded, craning her head away from the woman's touch.

Delseneca: Delseneca smirked and gave a soft chuckle at Philppa’s idea. “I’m not sure some ice water is going to scare her. I’ve gotten to know her fairly well. She’s tough. Or rather, she likes to pretend to be,” she said with a shrug. Her mind was culling over idea after idea, not caring that Scarlett had admitted that she would now leave Booker alone. She wasn’t quite sure she believed her. “If you don’t, I think I will put that tank to good use. I’m going to put one of your sisters in it, and begin to freeze it. I wonder which will come first? Will she freeze to death, or drown? Either way, her corpse will be frozen in there for you to study and figure out for yourself, slave. Is this understood?” she asked, before smacking Scarlett’s face again. She brought her knife up now, pressing it to her cheek, right where she had already been sliced. “Then I’m going to have Ridley here carve you into pieces, while your other sister watches,” she added, whispering in her ear.

Philippa: In all honesty, Ridley doubted she’d ever be satisfied with Scarlett’s answers. Even if she cried, screamed, begged, and promised that she’d never be close to Booker again, Ridley would never believe it was enough. The only thing that would make her feel safe would be to slit her throat and be done with it, but since that wasn’t an option, their limited alternative would have to suffice... for now. Having to listen to Scarlett’s unconvincing excuses only made Ridley roll her eyes and lose her already short-running patience. “For fucks sake woman, at least try to make me believe it, will you? You don’t even fucking know how to act, is there anything you are good at? Other than being naive and foolish, that is.” Ridley got up and paced a little, thinking. They could stick Scarlett in a tank of cold water, yeah, she could slice her up some more, but it wouldn’t be enough. They needed something that would make her afraid of Booker, something that would make her afraid of dragons. “You are gonna be cold if we stick you into the ice water tank. Ya know? But we can warm you up later too. Did my mother show you her blue fire? It burns hotter than normal.” Ridley looked at Delseneca with a wicked smile on her face. “Using fire is also a very effective way to close wounds... like deep cuts from daggers and such.” 

Scarlett: Scarlett strained against the straps that held her and shook her head, "Stop! Stop it!" she urged. "Quit talking about my sisters, leave them alone!" Awful spells and visions at this island had made her envision her sisters being hurt or killed, but now someone with the power and desire to actually do it was threatening them. "I get it, okay? I'll stay away from you, I was stupid to like you in the first place." She flinched and froze up when the knife touched her again, her eyes moving between Booker and Philippa. She had been tortured before, and knew deep down that she could handle it eventually, but she was so mentally and emotionally exhausted from the fact that it was Booker doing it to her. "Enough...come on." she pleaded tiredly.

Delseneca: Delseneca so enjoyed Scarlett’s cries. She was literally feeding from it. There was another reason she was finding joy, however. It appeared she found quite a weak spot in Scarlet. She only had cousins that she knew of, but she was hardly close with any of them, aside from one. But she couldn’t imagine being upset over threats towards someone she knew. At least, no one currently in her life. “You’re incredibly dumb. All it took was holding your feet to the fire. Although, perhaps I should do that to you, literally,” she said with a shrug. Delseneca pulled out a projection of a lighter and clicked it on. Then, she let her feet feel the imaginary flame. “I can just imagine your entire body being consumed by flames. Your family watching. Of course. They’d be next to be burned to nothing but a useless bucket of ash,” the djinn sai with a smile. 

Philippa: Ridley could see the desperation, and hear the exhaustion on Scarlett. It made her feel happy, it seemed they were finally getting somewhere. She was not even close to satisfied, never would be, but this was good enough to put a smile on her face. Out of excitement the nymph grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head hard into the table, giggling a little as she did before getting up. “You fucking humans are so weak, you have no capability to fight for what you believe in, and will give in as soon as you feel a little pain. You are nothing, I don’t even know why you would feel worthy enough to even look at us. You truly disgust me.” Delseneca making comments and showing her some fire was a nice touch, anyone afraid of fire would never come too close to a dragon. The nymph took out her phone and got it ready to record but not yet pressed the button, instead first focused the camera right on Scar’s face and spoke up. “Okay we are gonna make a pretty little memory so we can remember this if your toxic, abuse-loving ass decides to go back to my mom.” Ridley said as she looked at her. “Look at the camera and say ‘my name is Scarlett McKnight, I’m a worthless piece of shit that will never amount to anything, and I love being abused but I’ll stay away from Booker Bloodwyne, or I’ll sentence my own sisters to a slow, painful death’.” Ridley commanded before starting to record. 

Scarlett: Scarlett tried to pull away from the flame, jerking her legs back but they were still held tight. "Stop! Stop threatening my family." she pleaded again. When Philippa slammed her head into the table she let out a groan of pain and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Philippa's words and everything they were doing definitely reminded her that she was a weak human compared to the supers around her. She opened her eyes and when she saw the phone her heart sank, now this would be recorded and exist for them to taunt her with. Hearing what Philippa wanted her to say, she struggled to even begin. "I'm Scarlett McKnight..." she started, not wanting a recording out there of her saying the next part but she wasn't going to risk anything happening to her sisters. "I'm worthless and will never amount to anything. I...love being abused." Scarlett looked away from the phone but knew they would just yell at her for it so she looked back with a sigh. "I'll stay away from Booker Bloodwyne, or I'll sentence my own sisters to a slow, painful death." Her voice cracked a little when she finished and she looked away from both of them.

Delseneca: Whether Scarlett put it on camera or not, it was clear she would remember this. It was just like Philippa though, to take it to the next level, making sure there was a record of it. Delseneca, however, thought it was irresponsible and impulsive. She let her have her fun though, but she would MURDER Philippa if this was the downfall of her. “That should be fun. Maybe send that to her family? See what happened to her?  Would be humiliating. Her parents would wonder just what she got herself into,” Delseenca said with a laugh. That actually did sound fun to her, she planned in her head just how she could be there, to watch their faces. She put the lighter up to her Scarlett’s face, then pulled it down near her feet again. She clicked it on again, and held it to her feet. The lighter, or the flame wasn’t real, but the pain would be, leaving no  marks behind. “I doubt anyone would ever want you. You’re damaged, you know that? Just something to be used for either entertainment or gain,” she reminded her, then pulled the lighter away. “So, should we dowse her with gasoline now, or enjoy screwing with her some more?!” she asked Philippa.

Philippa: Ridley knew what she was doing. She made sure to speak up and give the instructions before starting to record, and stayed quiet and didn’t show their faces when she did start filming, instead focused entirely on Scar, therefore there was no evidence in the tape that they were even there. As soon as Scarlett was done, the nymph finished the video and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. “Maybe they are expecting something like this, they must know that their daughter is an idiot.” Ridley shrugged. “I think we should get to the gasoline now, finish this off. It gets kinda boring when they stop squirming, she looks like a dead fish already.” Ridley slapped her face a couple of times. “C’mon, you gonna let me talk to you like that? I thought you liked to act tough. Where is that shit now?” The nymph spat on her face, moving her hand to her neck and beginning to squeeze down hard. “Speak up, you fucking pussy. You wanna be a queen and yet you can’t even handle a little torture?” 

Scarlett: Scarlett squirmed and strained against the restraints as she tried to get away from the flame of the lighter. She grimaced and sucked air through her teeth when she could feel it burning her skin. It was quite an accomplishment that she had somehow managed to get herself tortured again and it wasn't even a school punishment. "Just - stay away from my family. Do whatever you want to me, just don't go near them. Please." Her eyes widened in fear when they talked casually about gasoline, like they were both just fine with burning her alive right here and now. "You can't -" She was cut off when Ridley grabbed her neck and she tried pointlessly to stop her. "Why would you think I want to be a queen? Who would - actually want that?" she rasped out. "You both made your point." She looked at Booker then at Ridley.

Delseneca: “Not. Good. Enough,” Delseneca told her, a cruel smile on her lips. This was more showmanship than she normally put on. She had been taught that getting too carried away, too flashy could have negative consequences. This was the influence Phillippa had on her, however. “We haven’t made our point. Yet. I’m going to show you what happens when you don’t follow these instructions. More specifically what I am going to do with your family,” she warned. Delseneca reached down and pulled up a red canister of gasoline. She put ‘lighter’ in her pocket and used her free hand to grab the rag she had used earlier on Scarlett. She held the towel over her stomach and began to dowse it with the gasoline, splashing it all over Scarlett’s torso. The djinn sat the canister down and moved the rage over Scarlett’s face, letting the liquid drip. “Although, I’m not sure how long it would take for an entire wheelchair to catch on fire,” she added with a smirk. “So repeat again, what are you going to do?” Delseneca Pulled her lights out, and after a few clicks, she began to set the tip of the rag on fire. 

Philippa: Philippa kept squeezing down Scarlett’s neck, even as Delseneca began to pour gasoline over the human. Finally. This would scare her away, if it didn’t then it would just prove that the human’s head was completely empty. Who would approach a dragon after being set on fire? No one with a lot of brains, that’s for sure. Philippa still had some doubts, but the events of this night would create some wounds in the relationship that would never heal. “Hey, don’t ignore her. I thought you liked her. Answer her.” Philippa growled, slapping her in the face again, but harder this time. “Shit, look, now my hand is dirty and it’s all your fault.” Philippa looked at her gasoline-stained hand, before cleaning it up on Scar’s hair. Once she was done, and she saw Delseneca light up the rag, the nymph took some steps back, she wanted to enjoy this moment. To watch. “This is what you get for fucking around with dragons.” 

Scarlett: Scarlett thrashed on the table when Booker pulled out the gas and started to pour it all over. "Stop! Please!" She was panicking, terrified of what it would feel like if she followed through and genuinely lit the gas on fire. "I'll stay away from you, I'll stay away from Booker. I swear, please." When Booker set the rag on fire her eyes widened and she was so scared that she started to tear up and came close to injuring herself trying to yank out of the restraints. "Don't, don't - don't do it, please."

Delseneca: Delseneca laughed at her pleading. It made her feel extremely powerful. Despite going to a school to enhance her powers, she rarely felt any sort of superiority to others. Her family had trained her to feel rather insignificant. Seeing Scarlett’s shocks, disgusted and terrified face, reflecting off the bright orange flames (that were of course, just a projection). “You’re damn right you’ll stay away from me, slutbag! Or else, I’m going to make sure that your entire family is burned to a fuckin crisp. I wont need any gasoline to do that,” she teased, referring to the fact that Booker could transform into a dragon. Finally, those bit of flaming embers touched the spots of gasoline on her, igniting Scarlett’s flesh! She couldn’t resist, Delseneca dropped the engulfed rag onto her face! All while the djinn was laughing. 

Scarlett: "No, no please-" she pleaded again, shaking her head furiously and still trying to escape the bonds that held her. Suddenly the embers hit her stomach and she watched in horror as her skin caught fire. She felt an explosion of pain like she'd never felt and writhed violently on the table. When Booker tossed the rag on her face she let out a wild scream of pain like no sound she'd ever made. She shook her head to get the rag off but the pain was excruciating and unbearable, and before she realized what was happening her screams subsided and everything went dark.

Philippa: Part of her wanted to fantasize about this moment and imagine it was all real, that they were truly burning her up and getting rid of her. At least it was fun to watch the flames lick her body and consume her slowly and painfully, pulling those screams of pain from someone was truly a fantastic experience. “Remember to get rid of her memory of me. She can’t know I was involved or I’ll get fucked over.” She finally spoke once Scar’s screams had quieted down. “Y’know, im almost wishing my mom gets new human girlfriends more often. This was surprisingly satisfying, we should do it more.” The nymph said with a soft chuckle, before looking at Delseneca and giving her one of those sweet, innocent smiles of hers, as if she hadn’t just beaten, slapped, cut and overall brutally tortured a person. “Shall we go now? This whole thing made me hungry.” 

[rainoverthemountains]

Twist story chapter 8

Twistfell and Swaptwistfell belong to @itsladykit

Summary: There’s a cure for LV (probably). It’s completely safe (probably). It’s a highly unpleasant experience (definitely). Twist only cares about that first statement. He probably should have paid a little more attention to the other two. But what does it matter? He’s getting what he wants, and he has the best friends and family in any universe to help along the way.

chapter 1, chapter 7

Chapter 8

A door slamming open startles Iggy out of her chair. For a moment, she thinks it’s Twist, but he couldn’t possibly have gotten out of bed and besides, the sound came from outside the lab. Another door slams, and then it’s her office door slamming open as a skeleton steps through. Well, shit.

“where is he?”

“Who are you?” she counters. He has a lot of nerve, storming into her lab like he has a right to be here!

“i go by cash. where’s twist?” Shit, shit, shit. He knows! Or maybe he’s just guessing somehow. Who is he to barge in here anyway?

“Look, Cash, I don’t know who you are or why you think you can come into my lab without permission like this, but I’d suggest you leave before I have you removed.”

“answer the question. i know twist is here. you have him for the lv project. take me to him, now.”

“You can’t just come in here and demand to see details of my projects. That’s proprietary work and certainly not open to the general public!” It’s at least not available to interfering skeletons who are definitely going to object to certain necessary parts of the experiment.

“you told me about it yesterday. now i want to see twist.” What? She didn’t tell anyone anything yesterday. Except… no. He can’t be. Her luck is not that bad.

“You’re not…” it seems ludicrous to even suggest, but the universes can be very different and he did say his nickname was Cash…

“the person who’s paying for all this? yes. now that we have that out of the way, where’s twist?”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Ok, time for damage control. He must agree with the goals of the project or he wouldn’t be paying for it, so she just needs to make him understand that she has everything under control and it should be fine. 

“He’s resting right now. I’m sure you know from the reports that the treatment can be hard on the patients and they need lots of rest. He’s happiest when I just leave him alone to sleep.” He looks skeptical, but he’s listening, so she continues. “I’m so grateful that he volunteered to participate in this study, as I’m sure you are too! He’s just what we need to get past the review board, and it’s great for him too because he gets the treatment early!”

“he volunteered, huh? and how did he know there was something to volunteer for?”

“Oh, word gets around.” Technically. People do know the project exists, and someone might have heard about the problems it’s been having.

“word gets around that the only thing standing between you and full approval of the lv cure was needing a research subject exactly like twist.” Skepticism drips from every word.

“Well ok, not exactly like that, but you have to agree that he’s perfect for what we need, and he jumped right on the idea the second I mentioned it. It’s not like I forced him into it. Once he knew about it, I probably couldn’t have kept him away from it if I tried! He knew it was a win-win situation.”

“and how has this ‘win-win situation’ turned out for him?”

“It’s going great!” Cash raises a browbone. “I mean, he’s not really feeling that great right now, I’ve told you how the side effects are, but he’s hanging in there and I’m taking good care of him. Like I said in my report, I’ve already seen some EXP destabilization, which is pretty good considering just how much of it we’re dealing with. I think he’s getting frustrated by how long it’s taking to get any results, but he was really happy about the destabilization too, and I’ve told him that it could take a while with how high his LV is. Mostly he’s grumpy, and a little uncooperative, but he agrees with my goals and I have everything managed!”

“so you won’t mind if i talk to him myself, then?” Are all skeletons this difficult? Letting this one talk to Twist will be nothing but trouble.

“I don’t think he’s really up to talking right now. He’s pretty tired, and he needs his energy for the treatment, so I don’t want to disturb his rest.” All technically true, just leaving out a few unpleasant details that someone too close to the subject isn’t going to understand. How close is this Cash to Twist, anyway? She doesn’t know anything about him, but the skeletons all seem to flock together, and he obviously at least knows him.

“i won’t wake him up, then, but i am going to see him.”

“There’s really no need for that! He’s fine. He just needs to rest.” This project does not need interfering friends and family. It could derail the whole thing. Especially friends and family who are apparently the source of most of the project’s money.

“the longer we argue, the more suspicious i get. i suggest you quit while you’re already behind. is that your lab?” He gestures towards the door opposite the one he entered. “i’m guessing yes.” Without waiting for any response from Iggy, he heads through the door. Panicked, and hoping Twist is having a relatively good afternoon, Iggy rushes after him, only to have her own door slammed in her face and locked. Damn excessive security measures. This door shouldn’t be so easily lockable.

***

Cash doesn’t know what he was expecting to see upon entering the lab, but Twist lying naked on a bed in the middle of the room wasn’t it. He approaches the bed cautiously. 

Twist looks terrible. He’s sleeping on his back with both arms tied to the bed. She fucking didn’t! He’ll kill her. Wires trail out of his ribcage, the ends buried in a soul that glows a pale, sickly yellow, the surface raw and somehow rough looking, like pieces have been scooped out. The rest of his magic is the same color as his soul, glowing around each joint like it never should in a healthy sleeping skeleton. Partially healed scratches cover his ribs, and inside his ribcage are what look like scorch marks. Scorch marks?! His breathing is shallow, and he’s twitching in his sleep. Honestly, he looks like he’s about to dust. A quick check reveals that his HP is fine, but it’s hard to discount the sight in front of him. Nausea and rage rise simultaneously, but he forces them both down to deal with the situation in front of him. Figure out what’s going on first. Don’t do anything that might screw up the treatment.

Trying to convince himself that Twist isn’t about to shatter any second now, Cash reaches out to touch his arm. The response is immediate. Twist startles awake and stares at him through frightened, hollow sockets. Then he blinks, and recognition sets in.

“Patches?” Cash never thought he’d be so glad to hear that ridiculous nickname, even in a voice that sounds like sandpaper. “Patches!” A grin lights up Twist’s face, bringing life back into his whole demeanor. He starts to reach for Cash, only to have the movement stopped by the straps around his arms. He deflates, looking as bad as he did when Cash first entered the room. Oh, right, someone strapped him to the bed. There better be a damn good explanation for that, but Cash isn’t feeling optimistic.

“what are those for?” He gestures to the straps.

“Dunno. Pissed her off, maybe.” Twist’s voice is flat, like he doesn’t have any strong opinions about it. Or like he won’t let himself have an opinion.

“she strapped you to the bed because you maybe pissed her off?”

“Dunno.” 

“did she at least tell you why she was strapping you to the bed?”

“Maybe. Dunno.” Twist pauses to catch his breath. “Don’ think ’m thinkin’ real good right now, Patches.” His voice is getting stronger with use, but doesn’t lose its raspy quality.

“because you’re normally known for your clear thinking.” The jab gets a faint grin.

“Good ta see ya too, Patches. Patches.” His smile widens.

“yeah, that’s the name you, and only you, like to call me. glad you’re enjoying it.” All sarcasm aside, Twist seems incredibly happy to see him. Not that Twist is ever lacking in enthusiasm, but something seems off about it, especially when combined with everything else about his current state.

“So good ta see ya, darlin. Can’t even tell ya. ‘s great. Patches. Patches!”

“no need to yell. i’m right here. not that that usually stops you.”

“Jus’ haven’ seen ya in so long, Patches. ‘s nice ta see ya again.”

“twist, it’s been a week, maybe a little longer. that’s not that long.” 

Twist’s browbones furrow in confusion. “That can’t be right, sweetheart. Been here a lot longer ‘n that.”

“you’ve been here six days.”

“Nah, couldn’ta been six days. Cause I remember… Lots’a stuff.” He shakes his head. “Not sure, ‘s all kinda a mess, but she’s had me a lot longer ‘n six days.”

“twist. i have access to your treatment report. you’ve been here six days. you were bothering me at home eight days ago.”

“Nah, can’t be right. Too many things’ve happened, an’ some’a them couldn’ta happened in six days. I remember ‘em.” He sounds certain, but Cash definitely saw him eight days ago. It’s hard to forget a tall, loud skeleton showing up on your couch and refusing to leave until you watch some stupid sort of entertaining show with him.

Twist must sense his disbelief. “‘m tellin’ ya, darlin, I’ve been here awhile. Don’ really wanna talk ‘bout it, but jus’ believe me. Wait!” Twist’s sockets widen. “Why’re you here? Ya shouldn’t be here. ‘s not safe. She’ll get you too!” This is clearly a horrifying thought from Twist’s perspective, but Cash has no idea what he’s talking about.

“who’ll get me? Iggy?” Twist nods, then shakes his head, then starts to nod again, then shrugs.

“Dunno. Just… ‘s not good. Ya don’ wanna be here, darlin’. Go home.” Twist’s expression darkens as he speaks. So does Cash’s. The things Twist is saying don’t paint a positive picture of his time here. Cash knows about the side effects of the treatment. Iggy detailed them extensively with some of the earlier research subjects, and her report mentioned that Twist was experiencing some of them. But how he’s acting combined with his physical condition, combined with the restraints around his arms, and then Iggy’s attempts to keep Cash from seeing Twist… He doesn’t like how it’s all coming together.

“why don’t I want to be here?” Twist just shakes his head. 

“twisted. answer me. why don’t i want to be here? do you want to be here?”

“Dunno. No, that’s… Yes! Darlin’, do ya know what she’s doin’? She’s curin’ LV!”

“i know, and that’s great, but-”

“Doncha un’erstand, sweetheart? My LV’ll be gone! Er, prob’ly. Might not work, ‘m not really sure, but ‘s doing somethin’, so I wanna stay, ‘cause it don’ matter what else happens if it works, an’ it’s workin! Prob’ly. I think. But I dunno. Think tha’s it, but it don’t really make sense, an’ I don’ know why she’d do that ‘cause she don’ do things like that, but she is so I thought maybe it wasn’ her, but they’re kinda the same but she’s helpin’ me so I jus’ need ta go along wit’ it an’ cooperate, ‘cause she said do that, but now yer here an’ I don’ think you should be around her ‘cause I’m stuck but you don’ gotta be here so I wish you’d go home an’ be safe, darlin.”

“um. what?” Twist looks very serious, like he’s just conveyed some important information, but Cash is lost.

“Go home, darlin. ‘s not good ta be here. Fer you. Uh… go home.” Well that clarifies nothing. Twist might not be the best source of information at the moment. The problem is, Iggy isn’t either, and any reports she might give him access to probably aren’t any better.

“i’m not leaving until i know what’s going on here. why are you in this condition?”

“Sweetheart, Patches, um, Cash… uh… It’s a cure! Didn’ I tell ya? Thought I did. Could be wrong. ‘m not thinkin’ that great.”

“i know it’s a cure for lv. what i don’t understand is how curing lv involves you being strapped to a hospital bed, naked, alone, with a medicine that’s dissolving parts of your soul, causes sudden HP drops, and is apparently scorching your ribs. and now you want me to leave you here.”

“‘s ok. See, ‘ve got…” he gestures vaguely towards the monitor, “that thing. ‘an I had another one when I had a bath so we wouldn’t haveta drag that thing in the water an break it, an’ it says my HP all the time so Iggy knows if it drops so she c’n gimme more.” Cash mentally notes the existence of something less cumbersome than the giant monitor that Twist is plugged into, but avoids interrupting the most useful information he’s gotten out of Twist. “She always fixes anythin’ that goes wrong. See, ’m doin’ fine.” By what definition of fine? He’s alive and speaking, but that’s about it. “I don’ mind, really. ‘s nice ta be left alone. Relaxin’.” Now that just doesn’t fit with anything he’s ever known about the other skeleton.

“twist. you love being around people. when you aren’t around people, you find people to be around, even if they’re just trying to have a peaceful afternoon at home and didn’t really want someone breaking into their living room to take over their couch and make them watch tv with you. you can’t expect me to believe that you’ve suddenly started enjoying quiet solitary reflection.”

“Eh, it’s fine. ‘sa nice break.”

“a break from what?”

“Ya know, treatment stuff. Not really a nice treatment, an’ Iggy’s kinda-” his jaw slams shut.

“iggy’s kind of what?” What has she been doing?! He paid for this shit, and now she’s using it to hurt one of the few people in the whole fucking multiverse he cares about? Stop. Calm down. Twist doesn’t need this, and he hasn’t actually said anything specific, or at least not anything coherent.

“It’s fine. She don’ gotta be nice. Not her job. She’s helpin’ me an’ I don’ need her ta be nice about it.” She fucking made it her job when she – Stop. First figure out what’s going on, then help Twist, then deal with Iggy. Not the other way around.

“what ‘not nice’ things has she done?” Something, anything, specific would be helpful.

“Look, sweetheart, I don’ even know. Most’a the time I’m so caught up in the shit in my own head that I don’ even know what’s happenin’. Fer all I know, I could jus’ be imaginin’ talkin’ ta you an’ really be ramblin’ at the ceiling. ‘s real nice ta see ya either way, though.” So Twist isn’t always aware of reality but is aware that he isn’t always aware of it. That probably means something, but Cash is no psychologist, or doctor, or whatever else Twist needs. Cash probably isn’t anything that Twist needs, but he’s what they’ve got at the moment so he’ll try to do something helpful.

“twist. listen to me. i know about the lv treatment. i have a general idea of how it’s supposed to work. none of what i know explains the situation i found you in, or why no one knows you’re here, for that matter. you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothin’s goin’ on. It’s jus’ the treatment. I got my LV too high so it’s harder ta make it work on me, an’ Iggy’s makin’ it work but it don’ feel good, tha’s all. Sometimes I think she’s doin’ somethin’ but then she’s not, an’ she doesn’ know if somethin’s botherin’ me cause I’m usually too messed up ta tell her, but tha’s not her fault, s’just the shit in my own fucked up skull.”

“for someone tied to a bed who can’t tell whether i’m actually here or not, you seem to be taking the blame for a lot of things. it looks more like-” he’s interrupted by the door slamming open and a voice he’s not in the mood to hear.

“Finally! That door drives me crazy. I should have replaced it a long time ago. Now as I was saying, everything is under control and there’s no reason for you to be back here disturbing my patient-”

“Leave him alone.” Startled, Cash turns back to Twist. Gone is the confused monster smiling at seeing a friend and defending the person who’s obviously been doing something to him for the past week. This is the monster who earned every bit of that 17 LV. For the first time, Cash can see a slight justification for keeping him tied up. But no, there’s a reason he’s acting like this, and Cash doubts it’s just from the LV.

Iggy, meanwhile, seems oblivious. She walks right up to both of them, fully focused on Cash. A small, sharpened bone appears at her throat, but dissolves before she notices. Twist winces, but refocuses with a shake of his head and locks his furious gaze back on Iggy. Iggy just keeps talking.

“It’s great to have such a wonderful financial supporter taking such an interest in the project, but it would really be best if you would leave the scientific work to the scientists. Just come on back to my office and I’ll explain anything you want to know, and we can let the patient rest. He’s a little confused, and having someone new around will just confuse him more.” She reaches a hand towards Cash’s arm, presumably to lead him out of the lab, but stops at his forbidding expression. 

Twist lunges at her, snarling. “Don’ touch him!” He’s stopped by the straps on his arms and collapses back on the bed, but continues to glare, good eyelight intent and magic building in the broken socket. Holy fucking stars, how does he even have the magic to attack with? He sure has the intent to put behind it. Iggy steps back, finally noticing the problem.

“C’n have me but ya can’t have him.” Magic leaks from Twist’s broken socket. Shit, he can’t just-! That half of his face crinkles up in a wince, and he makes an aborted effort to bring his hand to his face, blocked by the strap on his arm. 

“twisted, stop, you shouldn’t be using your magic-”

“What did I say about threatening me?” Iggy demands. Twist shrinks back, but continues to glare. Cash turns to Iggy, furious.

“what did you say about him threatening you?”

“Oh come on, nothing that bad! Did you see what he just tried to do? Look, back before the treatment started and right after it was administered he was very aggressive. He almost killed me when I first started preparing his soul for the injection! He’s mostly behaved since then, but his self-control is terrible and I never know what’s going to set him off.” This gets a raised browbone from Cash. 

“i’m sure he’s very dangerous.” What with being tied to the bed, still wincing from accidentally using his magic, and looking back and forth between the two of them in complete confusion as the protective anger is replaced by bewilderment.

“You should have seen what he did to my arm this morning just because I gave him a bath. Completely unprovoked, too! I’m sure some of it has to do with side effects of the treatment, but that doesn’t mean I have to just let him tear my arms apart! He’s way too aggressive, and doesn’t cooperate with anything I need to do, and I’m trying to make this treatment work out but he’s doing everything he can to make my job difficult.” Twist, being difficult? Who’d have thought. But the way she’s describing it…

“did you ever make any effort to figure out why he was being so ‘uncooperative’ and ‘aggressive’? he seems to think he needs to protect me from you. if you want me to believe that he’s here voluntarily, i’d think you’d have made some effort to figure out why he’s acting like he’s not.”

“Patches?” Twist sounds hesitant. Twist, one of the loudest, boldest, most impulsive, most overenthusiastic, least hesitant people Cash has ever met, sounds like he’s afraid to fucking speak. Cash doesn’t even know what to do with that.

He makes an effort to gentle his voice. Being gentle with Twist, of all people. “what is it?” So he sucks at being gentle. Sue him.

“Don’ argue with her. ‘s jus’… ‘s better not to.” Do not murder the only monster who can keep Twist from losing his mind. Do not. Even if she seems to have made a damn good effort to fuck up that mind, they still need her. Focus on Twist, what Twist needs. What does Twist need? He turns to Iggy.

“you. get out.”

“What? You can’t kick me out of my own lab! You’re not-”

“out. i want to talk to twist.”

“You can talk to him with me here.”

“out.” Something in his expression must reflect how he’s feeling, because Iggy shuts her mouth and walks through the door, muttering something under her breath about the whole group of them being psychotic. Cash tunes her out.

“there, she’s gone. now what has been going on here?”

“Sure listens ta you better’n she does ta me.” There’s a hint of irritation in his voice, which Cash is relieved to hear. Twist being timid isn’t something he can deal with.

“what doesn’t she listen about?” Asking again and again isn’t the best strategy he’s ever come up with, but Twist is so disoriented that he might let a little more information slip. Assuming he even knows it.

“Lotsa things. Don’t matter, though. She’s jus’ doin’ what’s necessary, an’ I ain’t gonna complain if it gets me a cure. Doncha see, darlin’? ‘s worth it. Nothin’s so bad that it’s not worth getting’ rid a’ LV. ‘s not even that bad.”

“Which is why you’re scared of her and don’t want her anywhere near me.”

“No… jus’… I’m jus’ bein’ stupid.” He pauses to catch his breath. “Swear ‘m fine, sweetheart.” He gasps, but keeps talking like nothing happened. “Jus’ stupid shit in my head, jus’...” There are little sweat drops on his face. They’re on his ribs too, and the sickly glow in his soul and joints has intensified.

“twist? what’s going on?”

“Hot. ‘s hot,” he whimpers.

“it’s not hot in here. If anything, it’s cold, and you’re not wearing anything, which is another point against-”

Twist’s spine arches off the bed, and he screams.

chapter 9