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meova101 · 1 year

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Okay I have been Thinking lately, and especially now that all I have left is rechewing old crumbs... Sebchal has such character development, you know. It’s actually so different whether you see them now or in 2019 or 2021 and it’s so interesting to see it develop over time. We went from karting together as part of an FDA event to Charles being a nervous wreck to a tribute helmet and ended up at the easy camraderie we see now and there’s so many layers to this shit, man.

In honour of Sebchalday, I figured I’d make a little write-up of the character development I saw in real time. And with little I mean someone stop me this shit is almost 5k. Yes I also had to add in how I watched the public perception of them change because I might as well honestly, the dichotomy in their teammate years truly was something else. Anyway, without further ado, here’s Sebchal throughout the ages, as told by Meo.

2018 and earlier

This really is just a lot of what seems like hero worship from Charles and Seb being polite, a good guy and up for a laugh. In 2017, Charles occasionally starts going on track walks, there’s the iconic moment in Monaco of course, Charles is just a little starstruck. Why else would he make damn sure he’s got Seb in an Instagram post about the karting event. Or look like he’s in a straight-up romcom when Seb talks to him there.

Seb, on the other hand, seems generally aware of Charles (his F2 results, ofc the track walks, signing that picture of Charles from testing 2018, offering Charles a seat during a drivers parade), but he keeps his distance for the most part. Which is completely understandable, honestly. But this all sets up the scene, because who would have ever thought that this would turn into a rather unlikely friendship?

2019

Rivalry time! We kick this off with, uh, a very nervous Charles on the first team outing to the Dolomites, followed by a hug and a cheek cradle in the second race. Yeah idk either where this went off the rails.

Okay no that’s a lie, I know exactly where it went off the rails, and shit really hit the fan in Monza. The media was already pushing a rivalry and it makes sense - the story of the old veteran and the young hotshot, both equally talented (don’t fight me on this Barbara) and vying for the top spot in the iconic team. Charles was settling in well, quickly matching Seb in the first half of the season, something was clearly brewing. It’s brilliant. It’s a showstopper. It’s also not true, but imagine listening to the drivers themselves.

So Monza comes around and all hell breaks loose. No, legit, this streak of races is the main cause of the rivalry talk persisting. In Monza, Charles doesn’t give Seb a tow during qualifying, leaving Seb unable to even set a final time in Q3 (along with basically every other driver, this quali is so funny). Seb has a race to forget after that while Charles wins. He wins in Spa, he wins in Monza, it’s fucking insane. Il Predestinato for real.

Singapore is up next and Charles gets pole, Charles has a good start, but then. Ohhhhh, then. Seb pits, has a very good outlap, starts overtaking the as-of-yet-unpitted like they’re barely there (in fucking Singapore y’all), while Charles falls further behind. Exasperated, Charles gets on the radio and says he wants everything, but what d’you know, Seb wins. Charles does not look pleased on the podium. Seb does.

And then Sochi. Oh my god let me tell you about Sochi. Charles has pole, again. But you don’t want pole in Sochi, and Seb wastes no time in overtaking Charles, nabbing P1 in the process. And what happens next is the perfect example of what I like to call a bitch fight. You’re gonna want to see this to believe it. Here’s a link to the team radio. It’s funny as hell, it’s petty as hell, Seb DNFs and Charles barely hangs on to the podium in the end, ladies and gentlemen: a rivalry.

Brazil only fanned the flames, I’m just saying.

But even with all of this. Like, it seems very explosive, you know. Which makes it all the more interesting how they don’t actually... seem to explode? They’re still nice to each other? Sure, it’s still very careful, and the videos they do together have that awkwardness, but they’re nice. And if you dig, just a little, you find Seb and Charles... actually having fun together. You can see their dynamic here most clearly in the language videos, in my opinion. Charles is gushing over everything Seb is saying in French, while Seb is teaching and teasing a little in the German video.

Ferrari themselves somehow manages to hide all the cute stuff, too. Because they sure tried, but you have to know where to look to find their date road trip through the Italian countryside, the videos for Shell and Ferrari themselves, the utterly endearing UPS video where they are both very confused but having fun with it. This stuff is all there, it was uploaded in real time, but it just… got ignored or brushed off as PR.

I remember watching all of their videos at the tail end of 2019, and just gloating like… if only they’d known what would happen afterwards. They wouldn’t be so cordial to each other now if they’d known what lies ahead. Until I realized, and yes this took a hot minute, that if they were always nice to each other, even in the second half of the season, even after everything that had already happened… maybe they actually liked each other.

This was a revelation. Unheard of. These two hated each other, were vying for top spot and there could only be one winner, the other one was just collateral damage, of course they didn’t like each other!

The first half of 2020

Dear reader, turns out they like each other.

There were two camps developing at this time. One of them was still convinced these two hated each other, disliked each other at the very least. The other camp was watching Charles slowly lose his mind on Twitch.

I really can’t understate just how much the lockdown did for the perception of Sebchal, although the major turnaround would happen much later. There really are two factors at play here and I will get to the second one in a bit, but you cannot underestimate how much the Twitch era helped.

Because Charles – and you have to understand, Charles was still seen as a very arrogant, incredibly pretty, extremely talented guy (two of those three are true) which did not help – brought up Seb, a lot. He told us about how he’d been in touch with Seb, trying to get him to play games with him on stream. He wanted to be teammates with Seb so bad while playing F1 2019 that he accidentally picked Seb to play as. He watched F1 compilations that definitely had other drivers in it while exclaiming they were videos about him and Seb. Whether you ship them or not, it’s clear as day that from Charles’s side, there was no rivalry.

Seb, of course, was pretty quiet during this time, but there’s this one interview for Marlboro Mission Winnow that feels more like friends catching up than an actual interview, so there’s that.

The second factor in this is Netflix getting involved. We all know and love to hate Drive To Survive and for season 2, they finally got access to Ferrari and Mercedes. Of course they’d dive headfirst into the rivalry storyline, because believe it or not, once upon a time Drive To Survive actually pretended to base their plot on reality.

And this one backfired. What they thought they were showing were two guys who didn’t much like each other, trying to figure out a way to keep the media at bay. What they actually showed were two very much exasperated guys, teasing and joking with each other while trying to focus on their job. Netflix failed to account for the fact that people might actually look beyond the framing, and thanks to Ferrari trying their best at social media but being endearingly rough around the edges with it, we had plenty of material for that.

And while all of this was playing out, we heard that Seb’s contract at Ferrari wouldn’t be renewed.

Now that’s a whole mess I won’t get into further, because this is also the part where the rats get divided into two camps and I’m not here for that. What I am here for, though, is Charles’s reaction, because he posted a very heartfelt message about the news a bit after it dropped. Why did it take him a bit? Not because he had to run it past PR, I’m pretty sure, because I don’t believe for one second his messages would have gotten the green light. No, it was because not only did Charles take special care to pick out a few pictures of him and Seb together to add to the message, but also because he was driving back from France that day and also, he didn’t know.

I only know he was in the middle of a long drive that day because he’d mentioned it on his Twitch stream before. Also, while looking up this Tweet, I noticed the location tag so that helps. I’m sure I didn’t hallucinate it but since Charles didn’t feel like archiving his streams, I’m also pretty sure this is lost to the void by now. If you happen to have this clip, please let me know so I can stop doubting my memory.

But the second part, where he plain didn’t know? It never got confirmed, but I’m positive. Once again, so many people were convinced here that Charles had been pulling strings behind the scenes, that them working together was impossible after 2019 and especially Brazil, Ferrari had to make a choice and they picked Charles. Except Charles has gone on record multiple times, stating he’d like to keep Seb as his teammate. That he still had so much to learn from him. If it was up to him, Seb would be his teammate for years to come. If he’d known, why would he not have had the messages ready? Why would he have been hyping Seb up as his teammate? Why would anything else in 2020 have happened?

Because trust me, we’re only through the first half of the year now, and it’s only getting better.

The second half of 2020

As we know now, the 2020 Ferrari sucked. Which, in hindsight, was clear during testing, but we all thought Ferrari had just learned how to sandbag. It took until the season finally got underway in Austria that we realized just how deep in the shit our guys were. Charles got a podium in the first race while Seb barely got one point, undoubtedly helped out by the fact that almost half the drivers DNF’d.

In their second race… they crashed. Charles attempted a divebomb down the inside and instead humped Seb’s rear wing. I was crowing at the television at that point, ready for the will-they-won’t-they rivalry of the previous year to continue, yes they’re friendly off track but on track it’s spicy, this was bound to explode…

And nothing.

Because what had happened, especially with them both knowing this partnership would end after this season, was that they started backing each other up. This season was going to be a wash either way and Seb wasn’t going to be there to deal with the fall-out of it. There was no reason for them to remain cordial, to not throw each other under the bus when necessary, and especially in this case it seemed clear-cut, yet they didn’t.

The difference between what happened on track and what happened off track became even more stark. On track, Charles was outdriving Seb so incredibly hard. He qualified so well, while Seb started getting booted out of Q2 more and more often. Charles nabbed another podium in Silverstone, Seb fought for singular points most races. And yet they made sure that whenever the media brought up their results, or tried to poke into their partnership, they always backed each other up. They never once talked bad about each other, tried to make sure the media didn’t forget both of them are extremely talented, and presented themselves as a united front.

Not that anyone bought that, but whatever. 2020 was a weird time and we didn’t have Fernando back on the grid yet. They were aching for some drama.

Off-track, though, and once again you had to actually look for this, which is a common theme with Sebchal… man, this era makes me the most feral still. We not only get Charles saying Ich liebe dich at the end of Seb’s birthday video, and Seb making awkward jokes in Charles’s birthday video, but we get the hourglass challenges. Quite frankly, this is the best social media to ever come out of F1, hands down, nothing will ever beat this. Because you can see, in real time, how Seb and Charles grow closer and more comfortable with each other.

They constantly get paired up with other Ferrari team members, but that doesn’t matter, because when Seb and Charles start talking? They’re talking and no one can disturb them. Like when Seb tries to explain what a pocket watch is briefly, in the background of a video. Seb trying to teach Charles some more Ferrari history during Memory. The entire music challenge, which might as well not have anyone else there.

We get a true glimpse of their fun competitive vibe here, even though Charles gives Seb more chances to win when it looks like Seb might actually lose (you might claim that Seb let you win, Charles, but we have the proof in the darts video and the categories video). I’m pretty sure that if you’d let the two of them alone with a game, you could come back hours later and they’d still be racing tiny little racecars.

You can tell how much closer they got during this season, but as usual, you have to look and listen for it to click. There’s the moment during qualifying for Spa, when they both get knocked out in Q2 and we get a shot of them looking at each other and smiling in understanding. There’s Turkey, where Seb finally gets his podium because he can capitalize on a mistake from Charles, and Charles actually stops beating himself up over the radio for a moment to congratulate Seb on his podium.

The final few races are just a fever dream, really. You have to see the challenge videos to believe them, but they truly have found their dynamic there and they’re so comfortable around each other. And the Danke Seb helmet is still, to this day, probably my favourite moment. Charles made a fucking scrapbook on his helmet. And just to show how even at that point, people still wanted the rivalry to be real so bad: I vividly remember someone on commentary saying “what’s he thanking Seb for, leaving the team?”. It’s crazy. That’s how pervasive the rivalry narrative was, even when Seb and Charles did everything to prove it wasn’t true.

2021

So 2020 was a whirlwind of character development, of notable moments, and definitely lit a fire underneath the ship. Now, however, we enter uncharted territories. The rivalry talk is finally over, now that their time as teammates has ended. But this also means we don’t get to see them interact quite as often, since they’re no longer shoved together at every possible opportunity (lol, not like they were anyway, seeing as the shipbaiting only really starts kicking off around this time in F1 socmed), and we’re rats looking for crumbs now.

Luckily for us, we get a lot of crumbs, and once again it shows very well how their relationship evolves and how they actually work together.

Now, during the winter break and after testing, there were quite a lot of doubters. Which is fine! Everyone gets to have their own opinions! But because the whole rivalry thing was so incredibly pervasive and even without that, Seb and Charles just seem like very different people who only got shoved together because they drove for the same team… it’s entirely understandable to doubt whether they’d continue to interact. And let’s be real, testing did not necessarily give us any indication to think otherwise.

But once again, this is exactly what’s so nice about them, if you look a bit closer… they actually became friends somewhere along these years.

Charles stands next to Seb for the We Race As One ceremony. This might be planned out beforehand, I don’t know, but what certainly isn’t planned out, is them talking and sharing their customary fist bumps before and after these little bits. After races, they also catch up if they find each other either near the car in parc ferme or in the press pen. It’s never that obvious unless you look, and we sure looked.

But it became blindingly obvious during Monaco and Baku this year.

When the drivers were waiting around for the parade, we find Seb and Charles talking to each other, once again so invested in their conversation that Charles almost misses his cue for the bus. And then, once it becomes clear that Charles can’t participate in the race, plenty of drivers offer some words of comfort. But Seb’s the only one to hug him, really talk to him about it, and Charles even leans back into him when Seb’s let go. We don’t know what was said of course, but it’s clear as day now that if anyone’s still hanging onto the old narrative… they’re dead wrong.

And then Baku. Not only do they find each other on the grid again (a recurring theme, there’s so often just a small moment of them getting the other’s attention to say hi), but after the race, Charles obviously first congratulates Pierre on his podium, and then beelines to Seb, where Fernando stares at the display of affection in front of him like he’s watching two aliens land.

It’s the easy way they both grab onto each other there, no hesitation from either side. And yes, I know it seems like Charles is a very tactile guy, but it’s always other people grabbing him. There’s two people where Charles will take the initiative, and both of them have made it onto the podium for this race. Later on, Seb lets us know that he told Charles the previous night, through text, that he’d see him in his mirrors, which once again shows that quietly, they’re still in touch. They’re texting, still teasing each other, and we had no idea until that moment that they still kept in touch in that way, and once again, even if you take the shoggles off it’s still frankly unbelievable that they managed to build a friendship when literally everyone was pushing them towards a rivalry.

This is the moment the rivalry talk really fizzles out, insofar it still even existed. Yes, there’s still people hanging onto it, and it does make a good story, but it’s just that. A story. What we see now is two people who are seemingly very different, pushed together in circumstances that would make other people crack, and they’ve somehow built a connection.

And isn’t that the best story of all?

There’s no topping these crumbs, not even the moment in the Spa press-pen tops this, where we all figured out Charles was talking to Seb before even hearing or seeing him just based on his facial expression, but it does show where Sebchal is at in this year. They’re figuring out how to be friends now that there’s no obligation, because both of them want to be. Seb isn’t one for big gestures and Charles (surprisingly, I know) isn’t either, so we only get the one in Baku. Hell, even Monaco was more of a background thing, and I sure nearly broke my tablet when I spotted the two of them during the We Race As One ceremony as the camera was panning away.

But in the background, there they are, always somehow finding each other, and that’s what truly solidified my love for this ship, really. They don’t need flashy moments, they’re comfortable with each other and it shows.

2022

And then we get to 2022, where everyone finally seems to have figured out that the whole rivalry narrative was never actually a thing. I’m sure part of this is the fact that they haven’t been teammates in a year at this point, that they’re both still persisting in only ever talking nicely about the other when asked, and well, the Aston Martin isn’t actually good so there’s no chance of even having battles on track.

And what we do get, is more crumbs. Honestly, we get much more than in 2021, even without really big moments like Monaco and Baku.

The thing is, we see yet another development in their dynamic for this season. And that’s really one of the big things about Sebchal all this time, we get to see them develop as people, as friends, and this really feels like a culmination of sorts. It doesn’t get picked up much by the social media accounts (thank fuck) and both of them definitely have their people on the grid (Seb gravitates towards Mick, Charles gravitates towards Pierre), but they seem so comfortable in their interactions now.

Take, for instance, the times they get put into the same press conference. We’ve gone back to the bigger pressers now, five people in each session, so we already get more moments where they’re together in the room. And pretty much every time, there’s these quiet friendly moments that don’t necessarily get picked up by the media, but they’re endearing as hell.

Yes, we get the moments where Seb’s flirty on main (which is so fun to watch too, and I dare say it’s even more pronounced now than it even was in 2020). There’s the bus tour jokes in Monaco, where Charles offers to take Seb on one. There’s the presser in Monza, where Seb says he never had as many issues leaving the hotel as Charles does, probably because Charles is more handsome. This kind of open teasing is something new and definitely shows how far they’ve come already.

But there’s also the moments that are more brief, more subtle. Like when Charles motions at Seb about his moustache, or when Seb heads straight towards Charles when he’s late to give him a fistbump. Or when they’re sitting next to each other and end up deep in conversation again, while the presser’s still going on. I know I say the word comfortable a lot, but that’s what it is. They seem to enjoy each other’s company, they like talking to each other and seem to search it out, too, and it’s so organic when you’ve followed them for all these years but it’s a stark contrast to where they started and where the narrative started, too. It’s also a slap in the face to everyone who doubted they’d even acknowledge each other after Seb left the team, which I’m totally here for because I’m not bitter at all lol.

Besides these moments, where they’re already in front of a camera and don’t care that whatever they do is being recorded, there’s still more moments when they’re not. Like, this is just what they do, they don’t ham it up for the cameras at all. There’s plenty of times in the press pen, after a race usually, where they will find each other and catch up a little. To the point where Britta and Mia, both their PR people, just start talking among themselves as well. And it’s always so interesting to see how, even when Charles is looking down (like after Silverstone, or before Hungary for obvious reasons), Seb will always manage to coax a smile out of him.

Because we have more interactions to go off here and we have so much history by now, it’s easier to point out where it seems like they’ve figured out how the other one wants to be treated. As I pointed out in the 2021 section, Seb is one of the few people Charles will actually initiate physical contact with. And throughout the years, throughout this season, it’s not hard to figure out why that is. Most people will grab Charles when they want to touch him, not give him much of a choice. On the other hand, Seb does give him that choice, either touches him briefly and then lets go (like with the upper arm touches that are often used between them to get the other’s attention), or he hugs him from the side, leaving Charles an opening to get out of it if he wants.

On the other hand, Charles seems very aware that Seb is a private person and gives Seb the chance to maintain that privacy, too. During the Twitch streams in 2020 already, he would talk about Seb but never reveal much of what they were talking about together. Most of the times they interact are in the background and Charles is happy enough to let Seb initiate their contact when they are in front of a camera.

And while it seemed like Charles wasn’t very involved in Seb’s last race, I would argue he was and actually took a step back himself to let Seb do what he had to. Even when he felt ill, Charles was still there for the final track run, in the crowd. He did the donuts he promised, mimicked Seb’s finger when he was on the podium after the race. He was also one of the few, if not the only one, to temper expectations and tell people that when Seb’s made a decision, he’s sticking with it, and to not pin hopes on him returning (he’s very stubborn, after all, and his favourite colour’s blue). It might not seem like a lot, but there’s a very real respect and acknowledgement of who Seb is as a person there.

The narrative surrounding Sebchal has changed so much through the years – to the point where even Ferrari called it a very special bond in their social media posts about Seb’s last race – and their dynamic has evolved alongside it. The “rivalry” was very fun while it lasted, don’t get me wrong, but the guys have been telling us all along that it was fabricated and luckily, we now have the full picture. It’s been a fun journey to see it all develop right in front of my salad (I might have only joined after the 2019 summer break but all in all, missing out on half a season is excusable I think) and while I do miss seeing the two of them together on the grid, I will absolutely go down with this ship. No one does it like them and even without new crumbs, there’s still plenty to chew on and pick apart to keep me busy for a long time to come.

#sebchal #sebchalday23 #god this truly is just one big ramble and infodump huh #idk if anyone is even interested in this but it's sebchalday and I miss them and I just want to bask in their history #because it's so fascinating! nothing about this makes any sense but here we are!#watching them throughout the years is something I'll always be thankful for... it was a ride and a half but it was amazing #it's the slow burn it's the growth it's them figuring out each other #I truly don't think we'll ever get another unhinged storyline like this #charles started at hero worship and seb started at talented guy but not Kimi hmpf #and they became genuine friends by the end of it #obsessed with them I tell you #meo shouting into the void

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edward-lygma-ballz · 2 years

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THE BATMAN MOVIE TIER LIST PART 2

2006- Batman Begins: Gosh this movie is so good if I'm not being biased this is objectively the best movie in the dark knight trilogy. One thing I will say is I wish Scarecrow had more scenes in the movie but I absolutely love the one scene where he does spray Falcone but I wish I could've seen more. This was peak Christian Bale looks wise and I realized this last night when I was watching the movie. The Ra's Al Ghul plot twist was actually surprising the first time I watched this movie. Alfred was peak overall just amazing. VICTOR ZSASZ MENTION!?! Side note we need more live action Victor Zsasz. I would have to say this movie is S tier.

2008- The Dark Knight: HEATH LEDGER WAS EMACULATE. I do agree that he's just a film bros wet dream for the joker BUT I still love it. This move produced multiple iconic memes just overall so freaking good. If you want my biased opinion this is they best movie in the dark knight trilogy. I can quote most of the Jokers lines by heart and I once watched this movie 3 times in one day. The two downfalls of this movie are Rachel and Two-face. (Refer to meme in pt1) Harvy himself is fine but Two-Face just ain't it chief yknow. And I know Rachel's thing is that she's not like scared of criminals and not scared to stand up for what's right but something that really gives me the ick is when in the penthouse scene during jokers schpeel she just stands and and says "alright, that's enough." Or something like that. Idk it's just like did you really think that was going to stop this insane man?? This movie is A tier as well.

2012- The Dark Knight Rises: If mid was a movie it would be this one. While I absolutely love Bane in this movie I can't stand Catwoman (which is really weird for me cause I usually love her, and I've tried loving her but I just can't.) It's not like a horrible movie it's just not fantabulous. C tier.

2016- Batman Versus Superman: I saw it when I came out in theaters then never watched it again. It was okay??? Idk not much input, I was more interested in the origins of the other members of the Justice League tbh. C tier.

2016- The Killing Joke: Did not like the first 30 minutes. This was the first time I'd ever seen an animated movie based on a comic and don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't to see batman and Barbara Gordon make out w/ implied sex on a rooftop. The first 30mins aren't in the original comic at all. Last half of the movie sticks to the source material almost entirely and it was executed greatly. A tier.

2018- The Lego Batman Movie: OH GOSH this movie is really good. I can watch it with kids when I babysit and we can both enjoy it. Witty remarks, Robin is absolutely adorable, REFRENCES BATMAN (1989) MULTIPLE TIMES!!! Joker isn't a complete dick to Harley. PEAK JOKER DESIGN!! No bad remarks. S teir.

2021- The Long Halloween Pt1 and Pt2: Loved these movies. Wished they made Sofia Falcone look more like Carmine like they did in the comic but her character was still great. I also wish they would've kept the catwoman suit the same as in the comic. Was very easy to sit through almost 3 hrs of movies. Harvy Dent was portrayed amazingly. Once again nothing bad to say about these movies. A tier.

2022- The Batman: I LOVE LOVE LOVE INCEL RIDDLER AMD BATMAN!! I love paul dano in general but God he was so good even though he only had like 15min of screentime throughout the 3hr movie. Zoë Kravitz fucking killed it as Catwoman. Can't forget #daddyoz literally amazing. "what's black and blue and dead all, over? yyyoOOUUU." Bussin soundtrack, got me back into Nirvana tbh. I love the casting for Carmine, wait no I take that back. I love the casting for the whole movie, it was absolutely spectacular 👌. S tier

Anyway that's all guys, if you want to hear my rankings for other movies just ask and I can put them all into a big post. I can put this into picture format if yall want to see it but I'm too lazy to do it rn.

#batman #batman begins #the dark knight #the dark knight rises #the killing joke #the lego batman movie #lego batman #batman the long halloween #the long halloween #the batman 2022 #the batman #tier list

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

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By proxy

Platonic yandere!Kaeya & child!gn!reader

Wordcount: 2195

A.N.: My first time writing platonic yanderes, hope you'll enjoy.

It's an impulsive decision for the most part - taking you, that is.

Kaeya trudges through the Wolfendom forest, a couple of his underlings, Addler and Otto, following behind as they trail a group of treasure hoarders. Criminal gang must have known that knights are on their tail, there's no other explanation for their sudden fleeing, leaving an already broken camp behind and taking only the most valuable possessions.

It's raining and he silently curses, even if this will give him advantage in battle, but archons, it's so cold. Huge droplets fall on the ground with a resounding sound, drenching everything and turning the forest landscape deep into nigh impassable terrain. Mud clings to their feet, slowing the group down, as the Sun starts to set. Sky turns all shades of purple and red, dimming light throwing the last rays over the Mondstadt as the darkness settles, yet Kaeya and his group still carry forward through the palisade of tall trees.

“Sir”, Otto carefully starts: “It seems that criminals are already several miles away from us”.

Kaeya nods for the knight to continue, already knowing that it will be an ask to stop - the weather is hellish and the rain is one of the heaviest Kaeya has ever had to experience.

“With how strong this rainfall is, the gang's traces will be gone in under an hour”

"All the more reasons to push on and catch them then", Alberich replies, paying zero attention to Adler's slight trembling or Otto's teeth chattering. The group continues on their path through descending darkness, their footsteps hasting despite the clinging and growing fatigue.

Suddenly, as the knights make their way around the cliff, a slight whimper is heard. It's human enough to stop the group - maybe some unlucky civilian got in the way of the gang, maybe criminals left their injured one. Kaeya just nods to the pair, as Otto and Adler unsheathe their weapons, wordlessly understanding the gesture.

Cavalry captain takes a step into the forest pit with a raised sword, all sight and ears, light blue vision on his belt shining and flickering both in caution and anticipation. He walks slowly and quietly, like a cat, careful not to step on the leaves and twigs lying around, and then he sees you.

You are a child, all thin and small in the way that the sick are. There are dark circles under your tired eyes, and the scrapes all over your body. You look already dead. He runs up to you, as he sees your figure swaying and knees buckling, saving you from the fall. Your skin burns Kaeya as he carries you back to the knights - it must be fever then. You blink at him several times, saying something, but your voice is too small and weak to make out anything among the droplets falling, and then you stop, eyes rolling back and head lolling to the side. You blacked out.

He thinks about handing your body to either of the knights and then continuing to run after the gang into the knight, but then decides against it - heavy rain must have blurred all the footsteps they left. Adler almost fails. You escape your delirium a couple of times, babbling words about forest and rain and wolves, and Kaeya, despite his focus on the trail ahead, can't help but listen to what you say. It's childish nonsense for the most part, an incomprehensible product of the feverish mind, yet sometimes you say meaningful things - I thought I would die, I got scared of wolf howls, The rain was so cold.

Some small part of him shrinks and aches at these words, a long buried hurt resurfacing once again. Kaeya frowns and huffs as he tries to get rid of the images of the days long gone in his mind - rainy night, hunger, pain, cold, he will die here. His lips quirk and a humorless laugh escapes him - the irony is painful.

He drops you off at the church, concerned Barbara taking you to the hospital and Kaeya, after a brief report to Jean, goes home, his mind still stuck on the memories of days long past. You will be fine, he tells himself, the church has good healers and the orphanage is nearby. Once you get better, you’ll get sent there, where devoted nuns will raise to be another disciple.

You had a look of a deadman - a strange catatonic serenity was radiating off of you, as you looked at the captain with a glazed yet piercing eyes, both seeing him and through him. It’s cold, so cold, yet no one is here. There are hot tears on his face, wet tracks burning his skin. His tummy is empty and aching, cold bites at his limbs, but Kaeya patiently waits for the adult to return. Father said that Kaeya was their last hope, so sure he would never leave him to die, right?

Cavalry captain barely sleeps through the night, memories and inner demons eating him from inside. When he does manage to doze off, a vague picture of darkening forests and howling winds wake him up, a fervent chanting buzzing in his head - Where is his father? Where is his father? Where is his father?.

Kaeya comes to you the next day, as his shift ends, legs heading to the towering church at the top on their own. Barbara leads him to your bed, your unconscious form lying limply. Idol explains your health issues to him - fever, malnutrition, inflammation, common cold and slight poisoning. The scratches you had yesterday were healed, Barbara says, but the rest of the problems can't be easily fixed with a bit of a hydro.

"Then, what medicines do they need?", Kaeya asks, understanding the unspoken words. The Church of Favonius, despite the large funding it receives from the city's treasury, still lacks a lot of resources and materials. People are free to come and get cured, without having a single mora to pay, which means that most of the remedies disappear at an alarming rate - be it some herbal balm for aching joints or a simple linen bandage.

The idol rustles in the hidden pockets of her dress, taking out a pencil and sheet of paper and begins to write, the list grows as Kaeya’s eyebrows get higher and higher. There are dried Liyuen herbs, exotic Sumeru fruits, specially treated Snezhnayan and Fontaine tinctures and medicines.

Kaeya is taken aback for a second by the sheer length of the final list - most of the items will have to be ordered and shipped and despite his salary of the captain allowing such expenses, it’s still strange to spend so much mora - a complete stranger. Captain contemplates just leaving you there - nuns will take care of you, but the hurt resurfaces again and he sees another person lying on the small hospital bed - little him, scared and confused.

He ends up buying all the listed things, and despite his efforts not to, continues to regularly check up on you when he has time. Sometimes, Barbara says, you wake up from your slumber, enough to utter some confused noises and questions, but then you drowse off again, both sickness and medicine pulling you back to sleep.

Kaeya, to his displeasure, never catches you conscious in time, until he comes one evening, expecting to spend the time looking at you sleeping again only to see you half sitting on the bed. Your posture gets straight the second you notice him too, an expression of confusion and fear appearing on your face.

"Hello", Kaeya starts, slowly walking up towards you, keeping his posture small and voice as friendly as possible:"I am that knight who carried you here, remember?", he explains, seeing the further abashment on you face.

You nod at him, prompting him to continue:"So, I just decided to visit you to ask you how you got in the forest and why were you alone"

"Sister Barbara said that you came here almost everyday," you reply, voice absolutely flat and face having no expression. Kaeya looks at you briefly - it’s rare for children to speak in such a cold manner, you must have something on your mind then.

"Yes, I did" , he says in the same friendly tone.

"Just to know why I was in the forest?" , your voice betrays you, a hint of hurt seeping into it. Ah, that’s why you asked.

"Hm, of course no! I also wanted to see you get better" , he smiles at the end, leaning a bit closer to you. You mull over his words, thinking of their sincerity, and then a later second you say, with much less caution and guard up:

"Well I am better now and…" you get silent for a good minute:"I don't remember why I was there. I think it's because of the fever". Your voice becomes strangely controlled again - you lie to Kaeya, you didn’t forget anything. A part of cavalry captain swells and purrs, recognizing himself in you,

"Do you want to live with me?". He asks instead of trying to get the truth out of you. Your eyes shine and a surprised noise comes out of your mouth at his suggestion - something between a squeak and high pitched yelp.

His apartment isn't the best place to bring the child in - there are far too many bottles and not enough food - Kaeya lives off the takeout from the Good hunter and the skewers he grills when missions call him to leave the city walls. Nonetheless, you don’t look too disgusted with his living conditions, so he considers it a win, as he heads for the tiny kitchen to make you a soup.

It turns out a bit burnt in the end - Kaeya added too much wood to the stove, but you still gulp it down, not leaving anything and thank him for the meal. He makes a mental note to buy you a bed - right now you’re sleeping on a small couch, and clothes to change.

You are a quiet child, too fast to apologize for the smallest mistakes and wary of him when he’s in a foul mood - it gives Kaeya an idea why you were in the woods. Your days together flow slowly and steady with Kaeya falling into routine - he wakes up, makes a breakfast for the both of you, you eat it, as you shyly tell him about your newest interest or finding - a drawing, a strange bug, a shiny rock of unusual colour, then he leaves for work, instructing you to go to the neighbours if you have issues, and leaving a premade dinner for you. Then he comes back, now listening to you talking about your day - you were drawing again, or you played with the other kids, or you were running and catching the butterflies, the now dead insects left for him to look at.

It’s a mundane life, something that Kaeya thought will never please him. There is a large pit inside of him - it was growing and festering with years - Khaenri’ah, father, Diluc, Crepus, that fight. It’s ugly and snarling and thoroughly scorched, a part of his soul that keeps him awake and anxious and angry and sad during bad nights. The pit quiets a bit when Kaeya takes care of you - toys, foods, games, the same way he wishes he was treated as a child.

Crepus Ragnvindr was a nice person, he took Kaeya in, clothed and fed and kept him safe for years, yet there was always an invisible line that separated Khaenri'ahn from Diluc - warmer voice, higher expectations, more praise. Kaeya doubts Crepus noticed this truly tiny gap in treatment, Diluc for sure didn’t. Alberich did his best to ignore it, yet he couldn’t, this difference nagged him at the back of his mind, alienating him in the newfound home.

That must be why he does his best to spoil you - it's new toys and furniture and evening walks around the Mondstadt with you on his shoulders. Soon, a new rumour starts to travel around Mondstadt - about a stray being picked up by another stray. Amber seemingly forgives him for the incident with Collei, Jean gives him a raise the same month, for child expenses, she succinctly says, Albedo off handedly mentions Klee and her desire for friendships, even Lisa gives him a couple of fairytale books, warning him what will happen if he will be late to return them beforehand. Diluc doesn't comment on the irony the next time they happen to meet, but he sees some Dawn Winery workers looking after you, when he is busy with Favonius stuff.

Kaeya, for the first time in years, feels truly happy. He has family again - you and him this time and he's willing to smother you with affections. He buys you things he wishes he had, and teaches you the skills he thinks will help you in life - how to fight, how to lie, how to kill someone with words alone.

It's a strange love he has for you - never seeing you as you - but it's genuine and all encompassing. Kaeya doesn't want little him to suffer again.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #Yandere kaeya #Platonic yandere #Yandere #my writing

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wtf-yoongi · 4 years

Text

Let me drive. / JJK

pairing | jungkook x reader

summary | road trip + california + your koo 🥺

genre/warnings | fluff + light smut + established relationship + kinda shy/quiet jungkook

words | 3,522

note | okay so i had this idea almost a year ago and wrote around 5 versions of this since then lol i guess the stuff i write is *already* very chill but i have to say this is the chillest

If you could, you’d freeze this moment. This very moment. Right here, right now. Just as the wind blows on your hair, just as everything around you smells like sand and the sea, just as Jungkook’s smooth driving lulls you to sleep.

You look at him then. Focused on the curves of the road, a small crease in between his eyebrows as he is forced to make a particularly sharp turn. You twist again to look outside the half-opened window and all you can see are the waves coming and going, somehow closer when the car shifts — and it calms you even further.

It’s hard to fight the heaviness of your eyelids, but you’re determined not to miss any second of this. Everything looks perfect, all around you — you can’t take it for granted. You should cherish it, imprint this in your memory, take pictures with Jungkook’s camera now that he’s busy driving and can’t do it himself. It’s within arm’s reach, but you can’t find it in you to grab it.

“You should take a nap,” Jungkook says with an unusual air in his voice. It is deep, but dreamy, and you wonder if you’ve actually fallen asleep. His right hand leaves the steering wheel to lightly touch your thigh. “You didn’t have enough sleep last night.”

“You’ve had just as much as me,” you protest, turning your body to seat properly again and blinking a few times to wake up, eyes opening as wide as possible in between each of them. “Do you think we can stop for a coffee somewhere? I bet you need it too.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s what you always say.”

You end up convincing Jungkook you should stop somewhere, even if that somewhere is the nearest underwhelming gas station. He takes the opportunity to fill up the tank, later going inside to join you and look for the most appetizing caffeinated drink. It’s not his favorite, and neither is the one in your hands, but it’ll do for now. You take the can out of his long fingers to pay before he has a chance to protest.

“How far away are we now?”

Jungkook’s head tilts as he follows you outside, eyes wrinkling while his brain tries to remember what the GPS said before. “Not much, really. Maybe a little bit over half an hour.”

“Let me drive, then.”

He throws you the keys without thinking twice, but mostly because you know Jungkook wants to take pictures of the road — he’s never been good at hiding things and, with you in particular, there’s no point in trying anymore. He’s been driving since you left this morning and you wonder if you should’ve taken over after Pismo Beach.

Maybe you should have. He looks perfectly content as he sits on the passenger’s side and reaches for the camera not a heartbeat after putting on his seatbelt. That’s when you know you should’ve said something earlier — he’s not going to ask you to drive if he can keep going. It’s the way Jungkook’s mind works: selfless all the time.

That thought melts as soon as you look to your right and he’s pointing the camera at you, bright smile only partially covered by the device in his hands as you hear the shutter. For a second, all you can see is him. Suddenly, all you care about in the world is how you can make that smile last longer.

Is it too greedy to want it forever?

The rest of the way to Santa Barbara goes as smoothly as possible. Jungkook is right — it does take a little bit over half an hour to get there and you’re glad it’s early enough for you to explore the city tonight. As you cross what seems to be the main road, filled with life, shops and pretty lights, you and Jungkook make a silent agreement to come back as soon as you drop the bags in the house you’re staying in.

To be honest, Jungkook was excessive when he chose the place. He said he wanted it to be close to the beach, with a pool he could swim in at two in the morning if he wanted to — oh, yes, and private. He repeated that at least three times while you were researching. In the end, the house isn’t as close to the beach as he wished it to be, but he agreed the pool was worth it.

When you land your eyes on it for the first time, you’re sure Jungkook made the right call.

There’s a host there to welcome you and you follow Mrs. Johnson around as she shows you all the little corners of the house. She is surprised to know only two guests are staying when the house could easily fit six, but nods with a warm smile when you mention the pool situation and the way Jungkook’s eyes lighted up when he saw the pictures. You also can’t miss the way he tries to hide himself behind you when you say that or the hand that travels down to your waist. You couldn’t see him, but you bet a thousand dollars a shy smile is in full display — dimples and all.

It only takes a few minutes for you to drag your bags inside, drink a cup of water and leave again. The house isn’t very far from the main road you’ve seen earlier and a walk after a few hours of sitting inside a car sounded like a great idea. Just before leaving, you playfully pull Jungkook’s bucket hat further down as he sits his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Then, again, you wish you could freeze the moment, but only if you could attach an audio file with his giggle and that playful stop it with it.

There’s a comfortable warmth from all around you as you walk. The breeze is hot and, although the temperature is bearable, Jungkook’s hand in yours becomes clammy in under five minutes — not that it is enough reason to let it go, it’s just not the most comfortable and definitely not as pleasant as the feeling of his hands intertwined with yours midwinter.

You can tell Jungkook is excited. His feet are light on the scolding asphalt and he’s paying extra attention to every detail his doe-like eyes are able to reach — almost as if he’s also looking to imprint this moment in his brain. In fact, he could be getting help with that by taking pictures, but decides to leave the camera hanging by its strap on his waist for reasons you don’t quite understand. You also don’t ask, too happy to raise questions about anything.

There’s something about this city that makes you feel welcomed. It’s much like the charming towns you’ve visited along the coast ever since leaving the busy San Francisco a couple of days ago, but there’s something particularly special about it. You were expecting it to be filled with tourists enjoying their summer day, streets buzzing with cars and no available parking spots whatsoever only to be met by a steady rhythm of people walking, chatting and passing you by without a second glance. It’s less busy and more easygoing than you anticipated.

Jungkook also seems to notice that.

“I like it here,” he says, echoing your thoughts with ease. Jungkook’s head turns all around, taking it all in before landing his curious eyes on you. “I think this one is my favorite so far.”

You can’t help the snort that leaves your nose. “You’ve said that for every place we’ve been to.”

“Well, every place has been better than the last. What do you want me to say?”

Just as the words leave his lips, the elegant lamps lining the sidewalk come to life. You notice you’re not the only ones with chins up and surprised eyes — suddenly, you can point to every tourist standing within this block as locals move on with their lives as if nothing happened.

“Honestly, how can this not be my favorite so far?” Jungkook asks rhetorically, finally letting go of your hand to reach for his camera. He turns it on without even looking at the device, snapping picture after picture until he’s satisfied with the framing and lighting. “These lights are so pretty…” He comments as he checks his viewfinder. “Let me take one of you just standing there.”

He takes a few steps back to fit you in frame and you hear the shutter many times before he’s back by your side.

“Why don’t we get something to eat?” He suggests, quick to take your hand again as soon as the camera is back to its original place.

“That’d be nice. Craving anything in particular?”

“Food,” he answers simply and with a smile. “Anything you want.”

You end up inside a diner eight minutes from where you were. The reviews online were great and you can see the place is popular by the amount of people sitting when it’s still so early in the night. The sun hasn’t completely set, but you can already feel the temperature drop a little — not too much, you think, to forgo the pool later.

Jungkook eats like he’s been starving the whole day. One entrée isn’t enough for him, so he orders two and you feel like you should save some room for the burger coming in later. His fingers are greasy from all the fried chicken, so are his lips, and you can’t help but smiling fondly at him when he looks up from the bone he just sucked on.

Right then, you wonder how in the world you ended up with him on the other side of the planet — the odds were never in your favor, but everything worked out somehow.

Ending up on the other side of the planet was the easy part.

The walk back to the house seems longer. Maybe it’s the weight of all the food in your stomach, maybe you’re finally feeling the need to rest after another busy day driving and seeing new places — maybe it’s both. Jungkook seems to feel it too, lazily swaying your connected (thoroughly cleaned) hands, dragging his feet and showing signs of running low on energy. For a moment, you think it’s possible he forgets about the pool and decides to just go to bed.

However tired, his eyes light up when he sees the pool area like it’s the first time and you have to admit it looks incredible. The water is so still it doesn’t look real and small decorative lamps illuminate it all around, creating a peaceful and inviting atmosphere. You can see how spent Jungkook is by the way his shoulders seem to be leaning forward a bit, but, still, he’s taking off his shirt and mumbling something about changing into a different pair of shorts.

Maybe he’s right. A quick dip in the water might just be the thing to relax your body and prepare it for the best sleep of your life.

Jungkook is already in the water when you come back in a bikini — with his back pressed to the pool, head resting on the edge and hair a wet mess. His eyes may be barely open, but he still sees you and raises a lazy hand out of the water to invite you in.

“It’s surprisingly not cold,” he assures you, a comforting smile on his lips. “Also, it’s not as deep, I’m just not really standing properly.”

A giggle leaves your lips as you move to sit on the edge right next to where he is, carefully letting a foot in to surprisingly — as Jungkook said — not immediately remove it because it’s too cold. You just wanted to sit there for a while getting used to the temperature before committing to a full dip, but he’s not having it.

“Come on,” Jungkook whines a little, clinging onto one of your legs. “We don’t have much time before I fall asleep in the water and drown.” He snorts and you can’t help falling for his shy smile. “I want to hold you in the water while we look at the stars together.”

“We can do that tomorrow if you want,” you suggest, trying not to let his words melt you completely while you move to fix a wet strand of hair in front of his eyes. “We’re staying here for one more night.”

However, in true Jungkook fashion, he doesn’t give up. “But I want it right now.”

And, in true you fashion, you give in to him.

The next morning, you wake up with a heavy and warm arm on top of your frame. The heat from Jungkook’s body on your back becomes too much as the hours pass and the room gets hit by an increasingly hotter sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your brain can’t get your limbs to move away from him without regaining consciousness.

It’s past 9 in the morning by the time you stretch an arm towards your phone. Groaning, you try reaching out for the air conditioner remote, but it’s maybe an inch too far. Before you can wiggle out of his grasp, though, you hear a low objection, grunt muffled by your own hair and skin.

Softly, you mutter a few words. “Just a second, Guk, I really need to get that.”

Subconsciously or not, Jungkook eases the grip he has around your middle and you’re finally able to hold the remote in your hands, lowering the temperature and increasing the speed. After the few beeps, a minute passes and you’re taking a deep breath, happy to feel the cool air around your limbs.

“You’re shivering now,” he says, surprising you after a long and comfortable silence. Blindly, he feels around for the white sheets, fixing them on your torso all the way to your chin.

“I’m not shivering,” you assure him, uncovering an arm in a stubborn act. “I have a t-shirt on, it’s fine.”

He hums. “I’ll have you out of that in around thirty minutes. Don’t count on it too much.”

You smile, turning to him, but Jungkook still has his eyes closed. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“I told you: thirty minutes. Don’t rush, we’re on vacation,” he justifies himself, words lazy just like the smirk that appears on his lips. “Let me wake up properly.”

True to his words, you both rest for a little while before Jungkook starts making his move. You would’ve guessed he had fallen back to sleep from how steadily he was breathing just a few seconds ago, but you couldn’t have been more wrong — not when his lips are connected to the column of your throat and you begin to feel the weight of his body on your left side.

Suddenly, your whole world is surrounded by him. All you can feel, see and smell is made of Jungkook, from his hair tickling your face to the firm hand wandering around like it’s discovering your body for the first time. You sigh and moan a little when he marks you particularly hard or when his right hand moves to place your leg around his waist and you just know he’s satisfied. Jungkook lives for that, for knowing he does that to you.

There’s a light and soft laugh coming out of his lips before he turns to the other side of your neck, head stopping midway to plant a chaste and quiet kiss on your lips.

“Promise me we’ll stay inside the whole day.” He’s just slightly out of breath, a feat that doesn’t go unnoticed by you — not after he’s taken care of your left side like that. He’s always so dedicated. “I really don’t want to get out of the house.”

“If you don’t want to.” The words would be perfectly accompanied by a shrug, but his body weight doesn’t let you. It’s just the right amount of pressure to feel him everywhere and, if you paid enough attention, you’d be able to sense his quick heartbeats too. “Yeah, we can stay in.”

“Good.”

You can see his eyes sparkle before he’s too close to focus, head dipping in to take your lips again. This time, however, the kiss is far from pure, delicately but firmly moving to open up your mouth and work restlessly until you’re completely out of breath.

You don’t know exactly when he starts slowly motioning his hips forward, senses overloaded with him everywhere, but you can feel your whole body respond to it. When you sigh yet again and his name comes out in a whimper, hand gripping his neck like your life depends on it, he knows.

“Let’s get you out of this,” he suggests, now a little bit past slightly out of breath as he proceeds to lift the t-shirt up and up until it’s free and thrown somewhere.

You couldn’t check the time then, but, if you could, you’d notice exactly thirty one minutes have passed.

“Have you even applied any sunscreen?” You call out from the inside of the house, holding a simple and delicious cup of cold water in your hands.

When you’re thirsty, everything will taste incredible.

“No!” He simply answers, ridding his hair of the excess water. “I’m only staying for twenty minutes while you shower, no need for sunscreen.”

“Yes need for sunscreen,” you disagree, sipping your water one last time before rummaging through your bag in search of the light blue bottle.

You immediately feel it in your skin as soon as you’re not covered by the roof of the house anymore. It is, after all, almost lunch time and the sun is at its peak — beautiful, majestic and burning hot. It only takes a few steps for you to reach the border of the pool and Jungkook gets the message, slowly walking towards you in the water.

“Dry your face and shoulders, please,” you demand at once, throwing him a small towel that was hanging around one of the lounge chairs. Luckily, he’s quick enough to catch it before it falls into the pool.

Still, Jungkook complains quietly. “It’s just twenty minutes, it’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal until your cheeks are completely red,” you argue, squeezing a bit of the product on your fingers and soon applying it to his forehead and down his blushed nose. “Look, it’s already rosy from the walk we took. You should’ve asked for the sunscreen earlier.”

“Okay, okay,” he begrudgingly agrees just as he closes his eyes, your hands running close to the eyebrows. “You know what? We should’ve booked this place for one more day.”

“You think so?” You ask, finally bringing your hands back and closing the lid of the sunscreen bottle. “Don’t dip your head in the water for at least a few minutes, please,” you warn.

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve been to LA before, we know how it is. I think I like it here more,” Jungkook explains, swimming backwards towards the middle of the pool. “We’re staying in a hotel for two days before going back home. A hotel doesn’t have this.”

“The hotel has a pool.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully. “You know what I mean. We can’t have this in a hotel.”

“We can just rest for two days,” you suggest. “Wake up and eat and nap and eat and…”

He laughs and twirls in the water. “I hate to interrupt you, but we’ll be late for checkout if you don’t go shower.”

“Right.”

There’s something about being on the road with him that brings you nothing but peace. It must be the perfect combination of clear skies, warm winds, the comfortable silence and the freedom of being on the road. Even with a destination in mind, it doesn’t feel like you need to follow it through. You can go anywhere, do anything, stop the car in the middle of nowhere and stare at the sea for an hour if you want to.

It almost makes you feel nostalgic for something that is happening right now.

The road gets busier and busier the closer you get to the city. Around here, you can see the mansions up in the hills, the exclusive restaurants here and there, and the fancy cars accelerating past the maximum speed displayed on the road signs of Malibu. Still, when you slowly press the brakes to stop on a red light, it feels like you’re in your own little world.

It’s always like this. He’s there and, suddenly, it hits. Everything around you melts, there’s nothing else. Sometimes, when Jungkook’s in the room, it almost looks like he shines — to you, there’s a bright, golden aura surrounding him. It’s warm, inviting and irresistible.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything when he sees the corners of your lips tug up without a reason, deciding to just mirror them. Once again, you find yourself wishing you could freeze this moment — this very moment. Just as his smile reaches his sparkling eyes and an airy laugh escapes his lips.

“Baby, the lights have just turned green.”

Read more ›› masterlist

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #yes the smut tag some of you were waiting for but don't get too excited

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highintensity-dyke · 2 years

Text

Barbara Gittings

from issue #3 of the zine series, Lavender Liberation | collage and writing by me

“You can’t force us into your boxes anymore. We are not going.”

Much like many LGBTQ kids before and after her, Barbara Gittings was left completely in the dark about her sexuality. When she discovered her attraction to women she fervently searched libraries for any trace of others being like her. What she found was disappointing. At her local library, all the mentions of homosexuality she could find labeled them as “sex deviants” and different brands of mentally ill. Instinctually, she denied that she needed any fixing and kept on her search until she found out about the Daughters of Bilitis (DOB).

Inammered by the idea of an orginization of lesbians, Barb used the number attached to the small pamphlet she had found and contacted the DOB to find out where to meet with them. Fresh out of college with a journalism degree (a running theme), Barb traveled from Philadelphia to San Francisco to meet with Del Martin and Phyllis Lyons. For the first time in her life she was surrounded by other lesbians that were open about their attraction. She recalled the experience as fascinating and exciting. She was the youngest and most fiercely progressive member. Del and Phyllis recall what a whirlwind impression she made on them, noting that they didn’t know what they were in for from this young and eager girl.

Eager was just the right word as Barb returned home and quickly went about setting up her own chapter of the DOB in New York City. Though she still lived in Philadelphia, Barb traveled to New York for all the meetings on her meager salary. She and Ernestine Eckstien would be the president and vice president, respectively, of the chapter throughout the mid to late 60’s.

As well as being president of a DOB chapter, Barb was also handed down the position of editor of The Ladder (first nationwide lesbian zine). Del, now involved with expanding the DOB and other organizations, was too busy to hold that position as well and entrusted Barb to do the job. Though she was not being paid, Barb quit her job to make more time for The Ladder and excitedly took up the position, making big changes to the layout of the magazine. The fiction sections were more well-vetted and information about pickets were more heavily featured. Political opinions and thoughts on gender nonconformity being a valid form of presentation were also made into a much bigger section. She also enlarged the subtitle “A Lesbian Review” on the cover and had her girlfriend, photographer Kay Lahusen, take photos of lesbians for the covers as well as having readers submit their own pictures.

Against the wishes of both Del and Phyllis, Barb worked tirelessly to heavily politicize The Ladder. Inspiration for this new wave of activism was taken from Frank Kameny, a prominent gay activist, and editor of the contemporary publication ONE: A Homosexual Viewpoint. Frank and Barb became close friends as they organized pickets and spoke on panels together. He helped her organize events like the Reminder Notices. These notices were pickets that took place in front of the Philadelphia Independence Hall every 4th of July for 5 years. They also organized the first gay liberation picket in front of the White House with Ernestine in the latter half of the 60’s.

Through her three and a half years as editor, Barb had pushed the boundaries of the Homophile Movement and helped usher in the new era of the gay & lesbian liberation front: The Militant Homosexual. This revolutionary-minded and more progressive movement helped set up the ever-nearing Stonewall Riots of ‘69. Without these more radical ideals on gender presentation, being openly queer, and deserving rights (rather than placating and asking for them), Stonewall may have never happened and the rights we have now may have never came about.

Definition:

Militant Homosexual: A more radical and progressive form of the Homophile Movement that focused on no longer bowing to heterosexual social norms.

#barbara gittings #the daughters of bilitis #the ladder: a lesbian review #lavender liberation #lesbian visibility week #lesbian #wlw #queer history #sapphic #lgbtq history #lgbtq #lgbtqia

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tocrackerboxpalace · 3 years

Text

November, 2001

Summary: George Harrison reunites with an old friend.

There was a chill in the air.

All but uncomfortable, it was still and cool and calm, his skin refusing to prickle up into chills. There was no wind, or rain—bright, but no sun. Just air, all around him, refreshing and energizing and soothing all at once.

His eyes were closed. As his body began to come into itself, familiar sensations tickled up his spine. The first thing he noticed was the press of his feet and backside on the ground—must have been sitting cross-legged—and the feeling of dry, rough linen under the fingertips that rested on his thighs. His skin prickled as it recognized the feel of the linen up his torso as well.

He shifted slightly, as if waking up from a deep sleep. There was a certain mindfulness in practice, hyper-aware of the environment of his body: the cool, smooth ground beneath him, the scratch of the clothing on his skin, the curl of hair against his ear, the tickle of a mustache on his upper lip. When did he grow a mustache?

Internally, he felt… warm, cozy, almost as though in a deep state of meditation. His mind itself was drowsy, though he hadn’t tried to assess the situation much beyond physical sensation. He didn’t feel the need to.

It was nice. Peaceful, really. George couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such a strong mind-body connection during meditation. There was nothing that existed besides the present; he had no past, and there was no future. It was not one of those times where the mindfulness revealed some grand ethereal Wisdom, and thus it somehow contained more truth. It was nothing and everything all at once.

Rather than let him enjoy this newfound spirituality, a familiar voice (in familiar habit) drew him out of the trance.

“Never thought I’d see the likes of you again, mate!”

George languidly struggled to open his eyes, a half-fight as the voice dropped the silly tone and resorted to a short, sharp chuckle at his own antics. When the eyelids had finally pried themselves open and his vision focused, George frowned.

He looked like a picture, straight out of 1961. Standing before him, arms crossed as he bit his lip with childlike excitement at the reconciliation. George blinked, hardly believing the sight in front of him.

“John?”

“In the flesh,” he grinned. Then a pause. “Or, rather, anything but the flesh?”

John was in front of him, a quite young John, staring at him with a bit of a worried expectancy.

George’s stomach suddenly dropped.

His gaze flicked around the room wildly as unrestrained panic rose in his chest. They were in a room, though it wasn’t a room, just a dull white, not so much white as simply colourless, with no décor or wallpaper or flooring or furniture although somehow, he was now sitting in a chair.

He was dead.

John must have watched the color drain from his head, for he made his way over to where George was sitting and laid an uncertain hand on his shoulder.

“It’s all right,” he soothed, nothing mocking. Nothing to make a joke of. “Takes a minute.”

George suddenly remembered he’d been sick. It was feeding back into him, slowly, as if each thought trigged a new repressed memory. He’d been sick for some time now. Images of nurses and hospital and IV’s and the dread of going to “treatment” began to flood his mind, and he shuddered. He felt a stubborn powerlessness rise within him: yes, it had gotten progressively worse, but it was nothing the old chap couldn’t handle. He’d beat it once already. He’d been stabbed, for Chrissake.

How could this happen?

He thought of Olivia, and Dhani, and choked back a sob.

“I don’t want to be here,” he spluttered in a near-beg, his chest tightening in terror once more. “I can’t be here.”

John’s hand dropped to his side as he almost (almost) rolled his eyes. He held up an imaginary list with one hand, gesturing wildly at it with the other. “Join the queue of nearly every person ever.”

George felt a needle of annoyance shoot through the fear that was slightly ebbing away. He half-wondered if this was the acceptance people talked about in death: the strange inability to control your emotions, your body progressively growing used to the idea and the knowledge of your own helplessness.

“You could stand to be a bit more empathetic, you know. I’ve just died,” he reminded with sarcastic flair.

John smiled brightly at the twinge of normalcy in the expression.

The fear was almost entirely faded now, which struck a new worry in his mind. He couldn’t just surrender to this already—it would solidify it. Make it too true. But the more he thought about it, the more comfortable he became. Against his own will, George was growing in acceptance, knowing that he should be worried but unable to feel the pull of anxiety within him. In an exasperating tug-of-war, he fought between the poles of acknowledgement and fear, a vicious feedback loop that left him confused and exasperated.

Maybe curiosity didn’t mean surrender. Maybe he could test John for some of the millions of queries floating around in his head whilst still protesting the concept of his state.

John was staring at him with wonder, almost as if he was watching George’s mind work.

Here goes nothing.

George looked at him pointedly, raising the most pressing question in his mind. “Is this Heaven?”

John blinked, and George recognized the infamous John-trying-not-to-laugh-because-this-was-a-very-extremely-serious-situation expression rise to his face. “Yes, George. It is. Jokes on you, religion, because Heaven is just me, and you, in this room, and sometimes we play marbles or jack off.”

His face turned more serious at George’s scowl. He went for a Take 2, his voice much softer now. “No, actually,” he corrected, scratching his cheek. “I think it’s some sort of… Purgatory. Bardo.”

George’s chest felt odd. “Purgatory,” he repeated slowly.

“Purgatory.”

“I don’t understand.”

John clicked his tongue. “Again, love. The queue.”

“Purgatory,” George said again, softly, the words dripping with disbelief.

“The in-between,” John elaborated with a grandiose wave of a hand. “You die, you fuck around here for a bit, and if you’re lucky, you pass on.”

George couldn’t contain his curiosity. “To what?”

John’s features twisted into a strange expression. “I, erm… I don’t know.”

George’s face fell. Right. “Do you…” He began carefully, mulling over the taste of the words in his mouth and sussing out which were the least bitter. “Does time pass the same, then? Here?”

John shrugged indifferently. “You don’t notice it, really. There’s no days or nights—time is a construct, anyway. Haven’t thought about it since. There’s also no expectation, so no boredom. And sometimes I see old friends.” He finished with a signal in George’s direction.

George nodded, swallowing dryly. He doesn’t know.

How long it’s been.

John caught his eye, and George flicked his gaze away in an instant before he could catch on. But John was quick as a cat, just like in youth, and his mouth pressed into a firm line. “George?”

George shook his head.

“George?” His voice was strained now, his demeanor thrown by the unsettling responses. “How long has it been? In-in actual time.”

Wincing at the question he knew he’d elicited, George averted his eyes and spoke near incomprehensibly. “Twenty years.”

John looked dazed.

After a long beat of silence, he snorted dryly. There was nothing humorous in the sound. “Suppose they’re still tryin’ to figure out what to do with me, then.” He paused. “For Chrissake, I already apologized in ’66.”

Neither man laughed at the joke. It was quiet for a long time.

“So.” John interrupted the stretch of silence, rather loudly, startling him. He clapped his hands together. “How’s Rings?”

George felt strangely hollow at the mention of his best friend. “Good. Married again, not long after you—” He stopped himself, unable to finish the sentence. It was still hard to wrap his mind around, all these years later. Even now, that John was standing in front of him, chipper as the day they’d first met (more so, perhaps). Even now, that they were both… “After you.”

“Is he?” John looked surprised, curious. “What’s she like?”

“Name’s Barbara. Ritchie made a film in ’81 called Cavemanand they met on the set. He really loves her. Oh, she’s fantastic,” George asserted, wishing John could have been there, needing John to have been there.

“Watch it,” John warned, his voice light and teasing.

George scowled.

John pushed his shoulder playfully, and George slumped further into the chair, defeated. As John’s laughter died down, George looked up at him and watched in fascination as the man did a complete 180.

The smile melted from his face, and a chill fell over the room.

“I—m…” John cleared his throat, offering the ground a watery smile. “I miss Paul.”

George was suddenly standing knee-deep in the ocean. Nothing in the room was different besides the knowledge that the water on the floor was Pacific. John was there still, only further away now, feverishly blinking the tears away with that desolate smile on his face. Before George could call out to him, comfort him, he turned back towards the expansive sea only to be confronted with a fifty-foot wave.

The breath was knocked from his chest as the wave crashed down with full force, heart shattering on impact. He let out an involuntary gasp at the sudden rush of pain that washed over his chest and began to stumble backwards, tears burning in his eyes. There was no water, no wave, and he was still standing, dry as a bone, but the sensation was all the same. Panic began to rise in his throat, blinded by an incomprehensible catalogue of torment, longing, anger, desperation, heartache. Every excruciating emotion simultaneously wrecked his being, coupled with the strangely overpowering feeling of raw, unabashed love.

John caught his arm, quickly pulling him into a hug. George hadn’t realized that he was close again, and gripped him tightly for fear of having him drift away with the tides that were no longer there. Tears streamed down his face as John stroked soothingly at his hair, muttering sweet comforts and apologies over his head.

“I’m sorry, fuck, mate, I’m sorry,” he babbled, trying to squeeze away George’s trembling sobs. “It works like that here, sometimes. Christ, I’m sorry. It’s all right. You’re all right.”

George sniffed, feeling like a child as he pressed closer into his friend’s body. “Works like what?”

John tensed a bit, though George couldn’t understand why. He spoke slowly, sure but hesitant in his explanation. “Emotions. They’re… different. It’s sort of like all that Hare Krishna unity bullshit—” George wrinkled his nose. “—and whatnot, the whole ‘collective unconscious’.”

George frowned at the implication, taking a tentative step back. “You mean…”

“Feel each other’s emotions, you can,” John answered without missing a beat. He spoke plainly, as if he’d explained this away hundreds of times before. “But there’s a historical aspect, too, that part I don’t quite understand. It only happens sometimes.” His eyes lit up as his voice quieted, mumbling to himself more so than George. “Maybe they had to have been there at the time? ‘Cause of the thing with Elvis…?”

George looked up at him in shock, ignoring John’s musings. “That was you? All that?”

John offered him a lopsided smile.

George’s heart began to pound in wild misunderstanding. He’d always known, of course, that John and Paul had that “special connection” that whisked them away to an entirely different reality. He’d grown up an outsider, watching in on the world’s most famous duo and feeling just like anyone else, at times. His stomach felt queasy and slightly bitter at the thought that perhaps he hadn’t even known the half of it.

All that for Paul?

He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to comfort John. John’s pain was gone now, replaced by only a dull ache, causing George to shudder at the idea of his mate going through that alone all those years ago.

“Paul’s… good,” he said, slightly unevenly. It felt like a good place to start.

John looked up at him quickly, his eyes both intrigued and desperate. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” George smiled. “He came to visit me. Not long…” His breath caught. “Not long before this.”

“I saw Linda,” John said quietly.

An image flashed in George’s mind of John in the very same room, sitting in a cushioned chair. In the vision, his eyes flicked up from the book in his hands, and he did a double-take, uncrossing his ankle from his knee and sitting up abruptly. Somehow, George knew that he was Linda, seeing John through her eyes. He—Linda—offered John a welcome, familial smile, and George noticed the portfolio of expressions on John’s face as the two radiated towards one another with emotions that George could not feel. And then—nothing.

In front of him now, John shifted uncomfortably, and George tried to get his bearings in the present once more. “She didn’t stay long.”

“It was hard,” George agreed, still trying to shake the vision. “She was the love of his life.”

John nodded, avoiding his eyes.

“He never stops talking about you.”

A beat. “I never stop thinking about him.”

Something passed between them. George wished he could go back in time and relive every Beatle moment together with this newfound information. Suddenly, as if they hadn’t before, things made sense: Paris, the LSD trips, India, the breakup. The songwriting feud. Yoko.

He understood now, that it was a complicated love that surpassed the boundaries of typical labels: no dating or marriageor sex, neither platonic nor romantic. There was a lust, but it was different than any other attraction George had experienced; it was motivated, driven by something much larger than himself. None of it was a means to an end—simply living, appreciating one another, taking it day by day until it imploded and rained down on them like a meteor shower, the disastrous aftermath of planned obsolescence. A love like that could never be.

George felt eager to change the subject.

“Have you seen lots of people passing through, then?” His gaze twitched away to offer the barest amount of privacy as John’s hand came up to quickly swipe a stray tear.

“Um, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “You’d never believe—Elvis was here, when I first got here, which was right thrilling. We talked about everything under the sun for who-knows-how-long, but he left too not long after.” He nodded. “Linda. Some lads from school. Real nice chap named Freddie. He and I made a song together, though I can’t remember it now. He was in that up-and-coming rock group, the one on the tail end of the Beatles.”

“Queen,” George corrected, fascinated.

“No, that’s not it. I wanna say… Oh, you know who was a pleasure?” John switched onto this entirely new track, never missing a beat. “I met some psychologist. Taught me all about these fab concepts like behaviorism and operant conditioning and all that. I’d heard about his book, but I hadn’t read it until I met him. Verbal Behavior, is what it was. Real smart guy.”

“Do you see everyone?”

John thought for a moment. “No, certainly not. People die every minute. I’d be dreadfully overwhelmed.”

George smiled. “That is true. Lucky I showed up here, then.”

John returned the grin, almost sadly. “Yes, but you won’t stay long.”

George felt the strangest urge to reach for John’s hand. He suppressed it. “I want to.”

John shook his head. “You’re a good person, George.”

There were a lot of things to say in response. You are too, Johnny. I’m not a good person. We’ve both done some shit. ‘Good person’ is an arbitrary term because we are not our actions, so it wouldn’t matter, even.But nothing felt quite equipped to rival the emptiness of John’s eyes, so he said nothing.

“What do I look like, Geo?” He asked suddenly, staring a hole in George’s head with newfound curiosity.

The question caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”

John waved a hand dismissively as if it were the most normal question in the world. “Come on now, what do I look like?”

George just blinked. “Like… John.”

With a roll of eyes, John reached out and twirled a finger around the tip of George’s mustache. “You’re all Pepper-like. What about me?”

It suddenly occurred to George that this was not how John always looked, and hadn’t been for nearly forty years. He shifted a bit, startled at the realization. “Oh! Erm—Hamburg. Like we’d just stepped out of Top Ten.”

John grinned and stepped back. “Fascinating, isn’t it? It’s always different. That one, I can’t figure out. I first realized when Freddie asked why I looked like ’74 instead of when I died. I couldn’t give him an answer, on account of I hadn’t even realized that fact.”

George laughed, though it wasn’t funny. There was a giddiness bubbling up in him, mirroring the excitement with which John talked. He felt so bizarrely thrilled that his fingers began to tingle, and he chuckled at that too. The feeling rivaled that of a limb falling asleep, and he mindlessly shook his hand to quiet the growing sensation.

John’s face immediately fell.

George’s stomach dropped at the sudden change of pace. “What?”

His eyes were shining when he spoke the plea to anything that would listen. “No, please,” he muttered, lip trembling. Shaking fingers reached out to grasp at George’s bicep. “Not—not yet, I’m not ready—”

George’s heart hammered in his chest, hardly able to hear himself speak over the blood rushing in his ears. The tingle had snaked its way up his forearms now, and a similar feeling started in his toes. “John, John, what is it? What’s going on?”

“George, please don’t go. Please. This isn’t—it’s not long enough, I need you, I need more time, Geo…” The words trailed off, and a tear fell from each eye as John pulled him into his arms as if that could keep George there. As if he could save them.

George slowly started to understand, swallowing the alarm at John’s frantic reaction. He was going to pass on, to leave John behind just like everyone else in his life. But this was a different kind of departure. It was not Julia’s absence, Mimi’s coldness, Paul’s Linda. It was not even Uncle George’s death, or Brian’s death, or even Julia’s death. At least, those times, he could find someone, something new to latch on to.

George would have felt pity for the man if not for the immense heartbreak, the indescribable pain of watching John come emotionally undone before him.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, blinking as a falling tear graced his own face. He felt oddly in control of the situation, despite seconds away from venturing into the greatest Unknown of all Unknowns. “Shh, John, it’s all right. Listen, we got to do this, didn’t we? We got to talk. And laugh. Just like old times, right?”

John’s voice broke. “I love you, Geo. Don’t go.”

They both knew it was a fruitless request.

George gripped him a bit harder in the embrace, feeling with hopeless acceptance as the tingling feeling reached his shoulders and began to pour down his back. He spoke the only thing that would come to mind.

“I’ll see you,” he whispered, a promise tainted by his own fearful tears slipping onto John’s shoulder.

John’s arms tightened around his waist. “I’ll see you,” he repeated.

#the beatles #beatles fanfiction #george harrison #john lennon #death tw #afterlife tw #purgatory/bardo setting #paul mccartney (mentioned)#ringo starr (mentioned)#elvis presley (mentioned)#freddie mercury (mentioned)#linda mccartney (mentioned)#yoko ono (mentioned)#bf skinner (mentioned)#this made me sad to write but i also love it

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fridayfirefly · 4 years

Text

A Guardian in Gotham

Read A Guardian in Gotham on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 19 - Guardian

Note: In this AU Master Fu gave out the Ladybug Miraculous to Marinette and the Black Cat Miraculous to Adrien before consulting the Kwami. Marinette turned out to be a true holder, but for the Black Cat Miraculous, not the Ladybug Miraculous. However, she and Adrien made it work and were able to defeat Hawkmoth anyway. After Hawkmoth's defeat she becomes Lady Noire full-time.

----------

Being the Guardian of the Miraculous was hard work. There were no family vacations, no sleeping in or going to bed early, no breaks. Marinette could not relax until Hawkmoth was defeated. Which explained why it was such a jarring change once the Miraculous Team defeated Hawkmoth.

Gabriel Agreste was behind bars. The citizens of Paris were free from the threat of akumatization. Tikki, Plagg, and the rest of the Kwamis went dormant in order to restore the damage done to Duusu's Miraculous. Marinette didn't exactly know what to do with herself. Suddenly it hit her that she was no longer the middle schooler who accepted the burden of Guardianship. She was in her final year of high school, nearly an adult. All around her, her friends were making future plans. Adrien was taking a gap year to help Emilie recover from her coma. Alya was accepted to a prestigious journalism program. Nino was DJing at one of the best clubs in Paris. Luka was releasing his EP. Kagami was training for the Olympics. Chloé took up an internship with her mother.

Marinette couldn't move on, the way all of her friends were able to. Marinette couldn't be a normal girl anymore. She couldn't go to university, start a family, live a normal life. She needed the rush of adrenaline that came from two little words - Spots on! or more recently, Claws out!

It was around this time that the Temple of Guardian got in touch with Marinette, offering her an opportunity to continue her work as a Guardian of the Miraculous. They send Marinette a box of old journals, dating back to the 18th century. The journals detailed the discovery of twin "wells of evil" located in the American cities of Gotham and Metropolis, then named Mortham City. The Masters of the Miraculous who made this discovery studied the evil and expressed the desire to find a way to remove it, but didn't have the chance to complete the task before the Temple of Guardians fell. When the Temple reappeared they believed that the Masters had managed to destroy the evil in Mortham, due to the reports of the city's recovery and renaming to Metropolis soon after, but were unable to destroy the evil in Gotham. The city festered, growing more and more troubled while Metropolis flourished. Marinette's task was to do her best to study and remove the evil in Gotham.

Marinette applied to Gotham University, feeling relieved that she might finally find her purpose.

----------

Marinette's dorm room at Gotham University was rather lackluster; it was the typical tiny, cramped American university dorm, complete with a stained carpet and a bathroom shared between six girls. Her roommate was a computer science major named Barbara Gordon. Barbara was older than Marinette, a senior while Marinette was only a freshman. It was a fluke accident that the freshman dorms had filled up before she was admitted. Secretly Marinette wished that she had been able to room with another freshman. Barbara was rarely in the dorm room, too busy with her coursework and her real friends to make small talk with her nervous roommate.

Marinette barely spent any time in her dorm room, either. She spent most of her time in class or at the library studying. Marinette had the ambitious plan of double majoring in both fashion and business, in order to start her own fashion company someday. Her classes overwhelmed her, and Marinette began to regret overloading her first-semester schedule. It gave her barely any time to work on her Guardian work, let alone join an extracurricular.

Marinette wanted to decorate the dorm and make it more of a home, but because of a plane delay, she ended up arriving at the university the day before classes started, giving her no time at all to go to the store and buy anything. Another unfortunate casualty of Marinette's late arrival was that she still hadn't figured out how Gotham's bus schedule worked, so she walked everywhere, even in the pouring rain.

Overall, Marinette's first week of classes was miserable. That was why Marinette was crying in her dorm room, alone, at six in the evening on a Friday night. It all started when Marinette saw a picture of her old class on social media. Alya and Nino were making faces at the camera; Marinette and Adrien were both grinning, Marinette's blue scarf wrapped around his neck; Ivan and Mylène were holding hands, staring into each other's eyes; Rose was posing, kissing Juleka's cheek; Alix was perched on Kim's shoulders; Nathaniel had his arm wrapped around Marc's shoulders; Max was holding up Markov so he could wave to the camera, Sabrina and Chloé were smiling, holding hands.

The photo had been taken years ago, on their first day of lycée. Marinette remembered it well. They had all been nervous about starting at a new school. There was no guarantee that they would all be in the same class. Max had calculated the odds for even half of their class staying together and it wasn't good. But that morning, when Marinette walked into her homeroom and saw all of her friends sitting there, she knew that it would be okay. Chloé revealed that she had gotten her father to provide a generous donation to the school to keep them all in the same class for the rest of their education. Marinette had been so happy to get to stay with her friends. Now she was on a different continent from them.

The tears started to fall, slowly at first, then more and more until Marinette was sobbing, face pressed into a pillow. How could she have made such a stupid decision? All of her friends were in France and she left them, all because she couldn't move on.

Two knocks on the door halted Marinette's sobs. "Babs? Are you in here?"

Marinette got up and opened the door, revealing a young man. He looked to be her age, tall, with black hair and blue eyes. "Barbara isn't here right now," she told the man.

The man blinked, looking at Marinette like she wasn't what he expected at all. "I guess I should have called her before I showed up. I'm Tim, by the way. I was just here to drop this off." Tim held up a container filled with chocolate chip cookies.

"I'm Marinette. If you want, you can drop the cookies off on her desk. I'll tell Barbara that they're from you, once she comes back to the dorm." Marinette wiped her eyes with her shirt sleeve, trying to get rid of the evidence of her crying.

"Are you okay?" asked Tim.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just a little homesick. Nothing to worry about."

"You should come with me to get dinner," offered Tim. "I was just about to stop in at the dining hall."

Marinette shook her head. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"It wouldn't be an imposition at all. I hate eating alone."

Marinette gave him a wary look. "I don't know you. Why would you invite me to eat with you?"

Tim shrugged. "You look like you could use some company, to take your mind off of your homesickness. Unless you want to spend the rest of your night crying in your dorm."

Marinette bit her lip as she thought it over. It would be nice to get out of the dorm and get something to eat. On the other hand, Tim was a complete stranger whose intentions Marinette still didn't trust. Then Marinette remembered the photo of her friends and made up her mind. If she couldn't have her old friends here in Gotham she would have to make new ones. "Alright. Just give me a few minutes to get ready."

Marinette threw on a pair of jeans, a Gotham University hoodie, and her sturdiest pair of sneakers.

"So what's on the menu tonight?" asked Marinette as they walked out of the dorm building to Tim's car.

"Uncertain. I can't remember the last time the dining hall actually updating its online menu. I was planning on crossing my fingers and hoping that they would be serving something edible tonight."

Marinette wrinkled her nose. "Is the food usually edible?"

"It's hit or miss. If you want, we could go to a diner instead?"

Marinette nodded. "I don't want to spend my weekend with food poisoning."

"Good choice." Tim turned the car around and started driving into the center of Gotham.

"Are you a senior like Barbara?" asked Marinette.

Tim shook his head. "I'm a sophomore. How about you?"

"Freshman. This is actually my first Friday in Gotham."

"Where are you from?" asked Tim.

"Paris, 21st arrondissement."

"That must be a pretty big change. What made you choose Gotham?"

Marinette shrugged, not wanting to give away her real reason. "I figured all the supervillains and Rogues might remind me of home."

Tim looked confused for a second before a realization passed over him. "I forgot about Hawkmoth. It was a big deal here in Gotham when he first emerged because the Mayor of Paris refused to allow the Justice League to intervene. All because he was worried about 'damaging the historic buildings of Paris'."

Marinette let out a bitter laugh. "That wasn't the real reason, you know. I was friends with Andre Bourgeois's daughter, Chloé. She says that he didn't want the Justice League to get involved in the fight against Hawkmoth because he couldn't merchandise any of the Justice League members. Ladybug, Chat Noir, and the rest of the Miraculous Team, on the other hand, never copyrighted their images. Paris used the Miraculous Team to bring in billions in tourism and Bourgeois never paid them a cent."

Tim looked surprised. "You sound like you know a lot about the Miraculous Team."

"I got to know them all pretty well. My classmates were known throughout Paris as the 'Children of Hawkmoth' - as if it was our fault that Hawkmoth targeted my school at a rate astronomically higher than the rest of the city. Of course, when it turned out that Gabriel Agreste's son was one of my classmates the nickname got a bit more personal."

Tim let out a break. "I suppose moving to Gotham makes sense when you've spent that much time in proximity to superheroes and supervillains."

"Gotham is an improvement to Paris under Hawkmoth. At least none one your Rogues can mind control." Marinette shuddered at the memory of her friends and loved ones turning against her due to Hawkmoth's influence.

Tim pulled into the diner parking lot. The pair got a booth in the back and put in their orders. Tim and Marinette spent the night trading stories of the most interesting Parisian akumas and Gotham Rogues.

Tim was enraptured. He told Marinette that for years it had been difficult for outsiders to get any reliable information about the Miraculous Team, outside of what Andre Bourgeois used for his tourism campaign. So Marinette did her best to share all the little details that every Parisian knew like the back of their hand: That Valentines Day was the worst holiday because all of the akumas were love-based. That they were trained in school to either lock their emotions down or let them all out, if they saw an akuma, to try and diminish the akuma's power. That Ladybug and Chat Noir, once they realized that their fanbase was primarily children, made it a point to never swear during their battles.

By the end of the night, Tim and Marinette made plans to meet up the following day. Tim promised to take Marinette out into the city for the shopping trip that her delayed flight caused her to miss. Marinette went to bed that night hopeful for her future in Gotham, a feeling she never thought she would have again.

----------

Over the next few weeks, things got better at Gotham University. Marinette started spending more time out of her dorm room with Tim, and eventually, with her roommate Babs and Tim's brother (and Bab's boyfriend) Dick. Tim became Marinette's lifesaver after he taught Marinette how Gotham's bus system worked. Marinette finally got around to decorating her side of the room. Her new style and color scheme (navy blue and sunflower yellow, Gotham University school colors) suited her much better than the pinks and whites of her high school days. Her productivity increased as she settled into the school, and Marinette found that she actually enjoyed her classes. It wasn't perfect, but Gotham University began to feel a bit more like home.

Most importantly, Marinette had begun to make progress on her work as a guardian. It had taken a whole weekend, but she eventually located the epicenter of Gotham's evil, a rundown tenement building in the heart of Crime Alley. The basement of the building housed storage units, one of which Marinette promptly rented. She set up her workshop there, bringing out the Miraculous Box so that she could consult the Kwami. Tikki and Plagg both woke up from their hibernation and Marinette got to work.

"I can sense the evil," spoke Tikki. "It's overpowering."

"It's like going from the Sahara Desert straight to the middle of the ocean," added Plagg.

"It does feel similar to drowning," Tikki agreed.

"Do either of you have any idea how to get rid of it?" asked Marinette.

Tikki shrugged. "I wish I could tell you how to defeat it, but it's unlike any enemy the Kwami of your Miracle Box have ever gone up against before. But look on the bright side, we know that it can be eliminating. I can only assume that the Kwami were involved when the evil was eliminated in Metropolis."

"The solution is easy. We cataclysm the evil," said Plagg.

"We don't know what would happen if we use cataclysm against something that isn't fully corporeal."

"Then we use Sass's second chance until we get it right."

Tikki brightened up. "Oh, that is a good idea - using second chance, not using cataclysm irresponsibly."

"See! I do have good ideas sometimes. We could also use Pollen's venom to freeze the evil in place and stop it from fighting back."

Marinette could listen to her two favorite Kwami argue forever. She had missed them terribly. But she had a job to do, so she interrupted their banter. "Do you think I should use Mullo to wield multiple Miraculous?"

Tikki shook her head. "You'll need at least one other person with you. If you get hurt, someone else will have to use second chance."

Marinette pondered that fact. "Luka's going on tour next month. He's stopping in Gotham for a weekend. Chloé is only an hour drive from Gotham, up in New York City, so she could be here any time. If we plan everything right, we could have the evil destroyed before the semester is over."

Once again, Tikki shot down Marinette's plan. "This is too strong for Luka's second chance or Chloé's venom. If you want to do this right you'll need to use true holders."

Marinette winced. Finding the true holder of a Miraculous was a near-impossible task. Of her entire Miraculous Team, only Marinette and Adrien were true holders. While the Kwami could sense a person's aptitude, they needed to be within fifty feet to get an accurate read. There was no way Marinette would be able to find the true holder of both Sass and Pollen. "Okay, new plan. What if I get Mullo to multiply myself and then have each copy of me take a different Miraculous?"

Marinette brainstormed with the two Kwami for hours, desperate to find a solution to the problem that had plagued Gotham for centuries. However, they still couldn't come up with a plan in which Marinette would be able to rid Gotham of the evil without enlisting the help of at least one other true holder. In the end, Marinette decided to take Tikki, Plagg, Sass, and Pollen back to the dorm with her, hoping that they might stumble upon another true holder.

"I wish we had a better plan," sighed Marinette.

"Keep your head up, Marinette. The only thing we can do now is stay positive and hope for the best," advised Tikki.

It wasn't a good plan, passively waiting for someone to solve her problem for her, but it was the only plan they had. Marinette had no other choice. If she tried to take on the evil alone, it would overpower her. It was disheartening. Marinette rode the bus back to her dorm. The streets of Gotham felt colder on the return trip.

Getting dinner with Tim was the only thing that could cheer Marinette up, so she pulled out her phone and sent him an invitation to meet up.

Marinette: Do you want to go get dinner? I heard the dining hall has vegetarian lasagne

Tim: Sure! Be there in twenty

Marinette put her phone away as she got off the bus and started walking towards the dining hall, dodging the sidewalk puddles that never seemed to dry. Even when it wasn't raining, Gotham was a dreary city.

Tim and Marinette chatted about their classes as they ate their food. By the end of dinner, Marinette felt a little better about her disappointing day. Tim could always lift her out of a bad mood. Marinette considered it his superpower.

"I'll see you tomorrow," said Marinette as she got out of Tim's car in front of her dorm hall. She expected to get to her room without incident, but as soon as she got into the relative privacy of the stairwell, all four of her Kwami were circling around her head, speaking in rapid succession, too quick for Marinette to keep up.

"I can't believe it!"

"You've got some luck, Pigtails!"

"This is great news!"

"I can't wait to meet him!"

Marinette blinked as she tried to make sense of the Kwamis' words. "What's going on?"

Pollen's eyes were bright. "Tim is my true holder!" the Kwami squeaked excitedly.

Marinette gasped. "Really?"

"He'll make a perfect Bee. He seems so smart and funny and considerate. I bet he'll feed me loads of honey and get fresh flowers for all of his rooms and be my best friend." Pollen sighed dreamily, pure joy in her voice.

"Pollen, have you ever had a true holder before?" asked Marinette.

"Of course. It's been a long time, though - at least a thousand years since my last true holder died. I missed it a lot. But now I have Tim!"

Marinette smiled, overjoyed that she finally had the means to complete her mission, that Pollen finally got to meet one of her true holders again, that Gotham might be freed from the evil that had loomed over it for centuries. Mostly, she was overjoyed that she met Tim all those weeks ago, that he took the time to get to know her, that he was there for her when no one else was.

----------

"So the Kwami are little gods?" Tim stared at Pollen with an almost scary intensity, as if he thought looking away might make the Kwami disappear.

Pollen flew up closer to Tim to explain. "The Kwami are linked to certain aspects of humanity: creation, destruction, intuition, protection, et cetera. We have a certain amount of control over these qualities. I am the Kwami of Subjection, of control and mastery. I can give you the power to incapacitate your enemies."

"Incapacitate them how?"

"Using the power of venom, you will be able to freeze your enemies in place."

Tim wrinkled his nose. "That sounds a little morality dubious. How do you know I wouldn't use it for evil. This is Gotham."

Pollen rolled her eyes. "You're my true holder, Tim Drake. I trust you with my entire being."

"What does that mean, for me to be your true holder?"

Pollen's cheerful expression turned sad. "Of all the Kwami, my powers are the most often exploited. The power of subjection, of complete and total control over your enemies, is corrupting. However, you, Tim, are my true holder. Your self-control is strong, I can sense it. You will not be corrupted by the power I give you. You will wield it fairly."

Tim glanced over at Marinette, and she gave him her most encouraging smile. "I need you, Tim. I've needed you for a while. First, as a friend, when I was at my lowest, and now as my partner. There's an evil that resides in this city, that I have been tasked with destroying. I can't get rid of it alone. I need you to help me."

Tim's eyes widened. "You mean there's a supernatural reason for Gotham's condition?"

Marinette nodded. "There's a well of evil underneath the city. Using the Miraculous, I can remove it. But it's too powerful for me to do it alone. I know this is a lot to ask, but-"

Tim interrupted Marinette before she could finish her sentence. "You know, Gotham is well known for its distaste for magic-users and meta-humans." Marinette opened her mouth to protest but was interrupted once more by Tim. "However, I trust that you want to do what's best for this city. I'll help you."

Marinette's face brightened. "Thank you! I have a plan but I still need to fine-tune the details. I'll get back to you as soon as possible. For now, you should take the Bee Comb with you. You'll need to form an emotional bond with Pollen before you can achieve peak performance."

"You seem to know a lot about the Miraculous and the Kwami."

"It's my job to be knowledgable. I'm a Guardian of the Miraculous."

----------

"So how does a girl like you become a Guardian of the Miraculous?" asked Tim as they ate their lunch in the storage unit after a long morning of pouring over plans.

"I was chosen by the previous master. It's a long-standing tradition that the Guardian can only be a true holder, because true holders notoriously incorruptible except in the most extreme situations. I was the only true holder that Master Fu knew of, other than himself, so despite my age and despite the fact that I wielded the Ladybug Miraculous rather than the Black Cat Miraculous, the Miraculous I was the true holder for, he passed the responsibility onto me."

"How old were you when you became the Guardian full-time?"

Marinette tensed her shoulders. "I was fourteen. Master Fu wanted to wait longer, but there was a situation. I lost my only mentor, with only a fraction of my training completed."

"That sounds rough," Tim's tone was sympathetic. He placed his hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

"It was difficult," Marinette admitted. "For the longest time, I was mad at Master Fu for waiting so long to start training me. It wasn't until I got older that I realized why he was so reluctant to start my training. He felt guilty for stealing my childhood away from me. The situation in Paris was bad and tough choices had to be made. I don't blame him, but there are a lot of things I wish had been done differently."

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost my mentor-" Tim's thoughtful tone turned frantic. "Not that my experience with mentorship would compare to yours, because I wouldn't know anything about being a teenage superhero."

Tim's words were suspicious, but Marinette didn't have time to figure out what he was hiding. They had a job to do. "Well, it's time to get back to work. You need to practice using venom on non-corporeal objects. I want to see if you're able to freeze the wind."

"Sounds good, Bugs."

"Bugs?"

Tim nodded. "I figured you could use a nickname. Do you not like it?"

"No, it's fine." Marinette paused. "Actually, it's better than fine. I really appreciate it. Thank you, Tim."

"No problem, Buggsy," Tim teased.

"Okay, now you're pushing your luck," Marinette teased right back.

----------

Lady Noire and her partner Yellowjacket stood in the basement of a rundown tenement building in the heart of Crime Alley.

Lady Noire spoke the plan aloud, the rhythm of her words revealing that she had spoken them many times before in preparation for the event. "I'll start by drawing out the evil. As soon as it senses the power of destruction that I hold it will try and consume me. I need you to be ready to use your venom the moment it emerges. Once it is frozen, I will use cataclysm. Are you ready?"

Yellowjacket responded. "I'm ready."

Lady Noire closed her eyes and let out her breath in a drawn-out hiss. The shadows around her darkened and she let out a pained gasp as she fell to her knees.

Yellowjacket sprung into action. "Venom!" he shouted, thrusting his palms out to let his power fill the room. The whole room lit up with yellow light, bright enough to rid the room of all but the supernatural shadows.

The shadows, which had been growing exponentially, suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. Lady Noire got back up onto her feet, a vicious snarl on her face. "You have been terrorizing this city for centuries. No longer will I will allow this evil to haunt Gotham. Cataclysm!"

The shadows crumbled, leaving behind only natural darkness. The transformation disappeared from Lady Noire, leaving behind a girl, who gasped for breath. "Tim, we did it!"

"Pollen, buzz off," commanded Yellowjacket. He was so impatient to hug the girl that he had his arms wrapped around her before his transformation was finished. "It's over, Marinette."

The girl shook her head gently. "It's not completely over. The effects will surely linger - Metropolis still sees its fair share of villains - but it will be nothing like what it was before. I imagine the vigilantes that roam Gotham will have a much easier job, though."

The boy tensed up. "Speaking of the vigilantes that roam Gotham, I suppose there's something that I should probably tell you. I'm Red Robin."

The girl blinked once, a dumbstruck expression on her face then burst out into peals of laughter. "Just my silly luck that I ask a vigilante to be my superhero partner."

The boy grinned. "I am rather fond of your silly luck. It's what brought us together."

@maribatmarch-2k21

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From the Order of the Dragon to Dracula - Constantin Rezachevici [Professor Constantin Rezachevici is chief researcher at the Nicolae Iorga National Institute of History, a member of the Romanian Academy, and Professor with the Faculty of History at the University of Bucharest. He is author of The History of the Neighbouring Countries and the Romanian People in the Middle Ages (1998).] ___________ The name “Dracula” has witnessed periods of both brilliance and fame. It became famous in the second half of the fifteenth century through the actions of Vlad Tepes (Dracula), ruler of Wallachia (1448, 1456- 1462, 1476).i It has continued to exist, although less known, through his legitimate descendants, the noble family Dracula of Sintesti and of Band, established in Transylvania between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries. Families that originated from Vlad’s marriage to a close relative of the Hungarian King Matias Corvin in February of 1462 can provide an explanation of the Szekely ancestry wrongly attributed to Vlad Tepes and his literary metamorphosis the vampire Count Dracula. As a result of the novel of Irish writer Bram Stoker, the name “Dracula” has obtained universal fame during the modern epoch. The origin of the name “Dracula” has a very interesting history, very different from what has been commonly believed. For a long time, many theories have existed about its genesis, ranging from the claim by Grigore Nandris that it was the genitive Slavonic form meaning “the son of Dracul” (Vlad Dracul was the ruler of Wallachia from 1437-1442 and 1444-1447) to the false connection with a coincidentally similar Romanian word “dragulea”, meaning the dear one or lover.ii All these theories are connected to the starting point of this name exclusively for Vlad Tepes, until this popular name, meaning “son of Dracul” became confused with the Romanian word “Dracul”, meaning “the devil” (Andreescu 149-50). To clarify matters, Dracula (Draculea) has represented from the beginning a new popular Romanian form (from the name Vlad Dracul) applied to Vlad Dracul’s famous son Vlad Tepes (Andreescu 156, Stoicescu 201), while the nickname given to Vlad by the Turks was “Tepes”, the Romanian word for impaler. Even before Vlad Tepes’ reign in Romania, the boyar Albu had called Vlad Dracul (which was a nickname known outside of Romania), simply Draculea (Andreescu 150-51), the popular exclusively Romanian name. The Venetian messenger Bartholomeo de Jano and his contemporary Greek chroniclers Leonicos Chalkokondyles and Critobul of Imbros have also called him Draculea (Andreescu 154-55). Even Iancu of Hunedora, who executed him, made mention on December 17, 1456, of “infidelem Drakwlam wayvodem” (Documenta 461). In the end, the Turkish chronicler Asakpasazade, referring to the year 1442, calls Vlad Tepes “Dracula” instead of “Draculea” (Cronici 88), while the Serb janissary who wrote from 1496 to 1501, called him “voievodul valah Dracula” (Calatori 125), which in English means the Wallachian prince Dracula. It is clear that Draculea (Dracula) was a popular nickname for Vlad Dracul, meaning a person belonging to the Order of the Dragon. For his son, Vlad Tepes, the name “Dracula” became through affiliation an alternative, not only a nickname, with the side effect of increasing his bad reputation, with its diabolical meaning, even though originally, in his father’s days, “Dracul” did not have a malevolent meaning. Vlad (the father) had obtained the nickname “Dracul” in connection with his receiving the Order of the Dragon from Hungary’s king Sigismund of Luxembourg, at Nürnberg around February 8, 1431. The German name for this order was “Drachenordens,” and in Latin “Societatis draconistarum.” The Order of the Dragon, which some confuse with a decoration, was really an institution, just like the other chivalric orders in medieval times.iii As a model, Sigismund of Luxembourg took

the Order of St. George (Societas militae Sancti Georgii) created by the king of Hungary Carol Robert of Anjou (1308_1342) in 1318. Its statute from 1326 requires the protection of the king from any danger or plot against him; the symbol of the Order of the Dragon was a red cross on a silver field and a black mantle. With the exception of the last object, these are also found in the new order. In a battle with the anarchical Hungarian nobles and in the background of the other battles for the possession of Bosnia, Sigismund of Luxembourg and the queen Barbara Cilli created the Order of the Dragon on December 12, 1408, mainly meant to protect the king and his family, with the help of a big part of the Hungarian nobility, led by the families of Gara and Cilli. The statute of this Order of the Dragon, elaborated by the chancellor of the Hungarian court, Eberhard, bishop of Oradea, maintained only in a copy from 1707 and published in a Hungarian edition in 1841, has remained almost unknown, even to the investigators of this problem. The analysis of this important document shows that the order aimed at defending the cross and at the destruction of its enemies, symbolized by the ancient Dragons (Draconis tortuosi) with the help of St. George. The battle was against the Turkish pagan armies and the husits, who were outside the Orthodox nations who were faithful to the cross and to King Sigismund (Romanians etc). Barons, priests and leaders of the kingdom gathered below the sign of the dragon, submitted to the cross and proclaimed loyalty to King Sigismund and the queen. The members who founded the order were 24 nobles of the kingdom, led by the despot Stefan Lazarevici, the leader of Serbia, among whom were Nicolae of Gara, the Hungarian prince, Stibor of Stibericz, the prince of Transylvania, Pipo of Ozora, the Ban (local ruler) of Severin etc, in general great local noblemen. They were all engaged in serving with loyalty no matter the price, the royal couple, their family and their friends. The symbol of the order was, after the statute of 1408, a circular dragon with its tail coiled up around its neck. On its back, from the base of its neck to its tail, was the red cross of St. George, on the background of a silver field. According to the first Medieval encyclopedist, Isidor of Seville, it was a “serpens,” a dragon that lives on land. As the years went by, the Order of the Dragon expanded, including two classes, a superior one, whose symbol was a dragon being strangled with a cross stretched out on its back, which, especially from the late fifteenth century to the seventeenth century surrounded a family coat-of-arms. Sometimes foreign members were allowed in, but only as allies, who did not have to take the oath of eternal loyalty to King Sigismund of Luxembourg, for example, the king of Poland, Vladislav Jagiello, his former brother-in-law Vitautas (Witold), the great duke of Lithuania, King Henry the fifth of England, the members of the Italian families Carrara, della Scala and leaders of Venezia, Padova and Verona. During the life of King Sigismund, from 1408 to 1437, the Order of the Dragon became the most important noble political association in Hungary, loyal to the king, the main political force in the kingdom, second to the king. Immediately after being established, it served as a model for the setting up in 1409 of the Spanish order of Calatrava. Into this prestigious European chivalic institution, which was symbolized by the dragon, was admitted the aspirant to the Wallachian throne, Vlad (Dracul) in February 1431, in his position of vassal of Sigismund of Luxemburg, according to the statute of the Order. Admission was into the superior

class of the order. The symbol of this class evolved up to 1431 in two phases: the first one, as it has been reminded earlier, was a dragon with a cross drawn on his back, between its wings, from the base of the neck to its tail and lasted from 1408 to 1418; the second one, until the death of Sigismund of Luxembourg, was completed with another cross perpendicular to the coiled up dragon, having on the equal sides of the cross the writing “O quam misericors est Deus” (vertical) and “Justus et paciens” (horizontal). This sign was worn on a sash, like in the portrait of Dichters Oswald von Wallenstein in 1432. The necklace of the order was made of two gold chains joined by the sign, a Hungarian cross with a double bar above the coiled up dragon. But on the seal, another dragon was represented, with a big body, with dented wings, not coiled, only two feet with a free tail, with a very small Greek cross on its chest. Sigismund of Luxembourg himself introduced in 1433 the seal for the Order of the Dragon of this type, one of the last seals he made as a Roman-German emperor. Unfortunately, the symbol that Vlad Dracul had wasn’t kept. But the elements of the symbol of the Order of the Dragon on his royal seal of 1437 clearly show that Vlad Dracul was the possessor of the Order of the Dragon necklace: the Hungarian double cross, instead of the Latin cross; the dragon illustrated on the reverse of the six silver and bronze coins that were beat by Vlad at Sighisoara in Transylvania (or after his occupation of the Wallachian throne) is similar to the dragon in Paolo Uccello’s picture, St. George and the dragon; and the coat-of-arms from the episcopacy built by him at Curtea de Arges. Furthermore, he transformed the dragon from the seal to his personal coat-of-arms, not directly but as an original heraldry composition. This coat-of-arms was carved from stone, and represented the dragon attacking a lion, the headed snake, the dragon, emerging victoriously from this battle, therefore illustrating metaphorically Psalm 90 (“You will step on lions and on vipers and walk over lion cubs and snakes”). This phrase’s purpose was to symbolize the victory of Christianity and that of Vlad Dracul over his enemies. In this case the dragon was a benefic symbol, and the picture of Vlad with his name (Dracul, Draculea-Dracula) had a positive meaning which was only common in Wallachia during his reign. The spreading of the image of the dragon by Vlad Dracul through the large circulation of seal, small coins and heraldic stone carving had a powerful impression on its Romanian subjects. This was increased by the Order of the Dragon necklace, which no other Romanian ruler had worn, and even more so the ceremonial costume of the Order of the Dragon knights - red garments and green mantle. Thus, Vlad Dracul, the father of Vlad Tepes, has forever remained in a bond with both versions of his nickname. This paradox has been interpreted incorrectly. The dragon of the order with the same name was not an evil element during the fifteenth century, but a positive symbol of knighthood. The dragon choking itself with its own tail, which in Occidental St. George heraldry and iconography, from where it originates, represented the defeated Satan, becomes, in the absence of the saint and of the cross, a Christian chivalry order of positive significance. The circular dragon, strangled by its own tail, is represented on the coat-of-arms of many noble families in the Hungarian kingdom who were the descendants of some of the knights who were part of the Order of the Dragon during the reign of Sigismund, until the seventeenth century. This supports the fact that the Order of the Dragon enjoyed great prestige throughout the first half of the fifteenth century. In Transylvania, it also appeared in the coats-of-arms of the families

Bathory, Bocskay, Bethlen, Szathmary, Rakoczi and many others, even though the Order of the Dragon had lost its importance after the death of Sigismund of Luxembourg in 1437 and it practically disappeared with the demise of the members who had been admitted by him. Over five millennia of the dragon’s universal existence, it went through many transformations until the fifteenth century and it was known as a fabulous creature, sometimes with the head of a vulture, other times like the animal represented on the Order of the Dragon, with the body of a snake and the wings of a bat. The European Dragon had a lot of sources: Greek mythology (dracon), Roman_Greek tradition, Celtic mythology, the Bible, the Apocalypse, the lives of saints and Oriental influences. During pre- Christian times, the dragon often had a beneficial meaning (often connected with fecundity) and perpetuated in folklore until the late Middle Ages. However, in literature, culture and clerical Christianity, starting from Bibical text, it takes on a different role, and in the fifth century it becomes a symbol of Satan -- “draco iste significat diabolum” (Le Goff 58). This dragon, identified with Satan, was defeated and was dominated by spiritual forces but was not killed; rather, according to the symbolism of Celtic folklore, at some extent, “they even became allied with it” (Le Goff 45), by numerous saints and bishops of the Occident. In the art of Roman influence, the crutch of the bishop often has a defeated and twisted dragon at its tip. Both St. Michael and St. George, whose cult began to spread from the Bizant during the eighth and throughout the tenth, and respectively eleventh centuries, defeated the dragon physically in a fight. In Occidental heraldry, the physical strength of the dragon was said to have been in his head, but also in its big and strong tail, which in the nineteenth century was considered the illustrative element of the dragon. All this European clerical and folklore heraldry, strengthened in a millenary existence (from the fifth century to the fifteenth century) can be identified in the basic illustration of the Order of the Dragon, the snake-like dragon that is strangling himself with his own tail, which, according to tradition, is twisted three times around the dragon’s neck, signifying that he had been subdued by means of Christian spiritual powers, and the dragon with big paws and wings was the symbol of the one who was defeated by the Saints Michael and George. However, we must also remember the fact that, despite the fact that it had been defeated and subdued, the snake-like dragon and the flying dragon still were evil and the symbols of Satan. In the Romanian space to which Vlad Dracul and his son Vlad Tepes belonged, the dragon, named “balaur”, a thraco_dacian word, or “zmeu”, a slavonic word, had its roots in geto-dacian antiquity, whose military flag was representing a snake with the head of a wolf, included the large category of dragons used as flags, which one finds from the times of the Greeks and Romans until the fifteenth century. This divinity represented on the “geto-dacian” flag, became known in the time of the Roman ruling of Dacia as “draco” (in Romanian “drac” (meaning devil). Along with Christianity, it spread all throughout Europe, and came to symbolize Satan. However in pagan terms, as the Romanian historian Vasile Parvan observed, “out of all the Romance languages, the Romanian language was the only one in which ‘draco’ has the meaning of an evil spirit, demon or devil, whereas in others, the word only has the meaning of snake or dragon” (228-30). In Romanian folklore, even the snake, which in certain conditions, has the ability to turn into a dragon, has a strong malefic meaning. If “Dracul” and “Draculea” have a positive meaning in connection with the Order of the Dragon during Vlad Dracul’s time and later on during

Vlad Tepes’ reign, the same words have an exclusively negative, diabolical meaning, synonymous to the Romanian word “dracul” (the devil), without doubt in connection to the bloody and law_enforcing character of Vlad. In 1459, the aspirant Dan III, accused his rival “Draculea” (Vlad Tepes) of collaborating with the Turks, aided and guided by the devil (Tocilescu 71-2), and in 1460 mentioned “the law-offender and barbaric tyrant, unfaithful and the devil that is Vlad Voievod” (Harmuzeki 53). During Vlad Tepes’ captivity in Hungary (1462-1475), the representative of the pope in Buda, Nicolaede Madrussa, declared that he saw “their tyrant Dracul, a name which they [Romanians] use for the Devil” Papacostea (164). In 1486, the author of the Novel about Dracula voievod, translated in Russian, referred to “Dracula in Romanian, and in our language - devil, that’s how evil he was” (Panaitescu 200, 207). Although Vlad Tepes and his descendants have never used the symbol of the Order of the Dragon, he has inherited the nickname of his father Draculea/Dracula, which has become a family name (outside the country). And his successors in Transylvania, the Dracula (Draculea) family kept this name until the seventeenth century, settling in the sixteenth century among the “secui,” not far from the place where in 1897, Bram Stoker, located the setting of his novel and the Transylvania castle of “Count Dracula.” This way, over a long period of time, from the name of a small pagan deity (Greek, dracos, Latin draco), by means of the name of the Order of the Dragon (in German Drachenordens, Latin Societas draconistarum) to the fifteenth century Romanian nickname of Dracul/Draculea from which the nickname and then the family name, Dracula, comes and was used in 1897 by Bram Stoker, at the suggestion of the Hungarian Jewish orientalist, well known scholar of his time (Florescu & McNally 142-3). If the Order of the Dragon did not exist, with all its symbols and its being awarded to a Romanian Ruler, the name “Dracula” would not be famous today. _____ Works Cited: Andreescu, Stefan. Vlad Tepes (Dracula) intre legenda si adevar istoric. Bucharest, 1976. Calatori straini despre tarile romane. Bucharest, 1970. Cronici turcesti privind tarile romana. Bucharest 1966. Documenta Romaniae Historica. Bucharest, 1977. Florescu, Radu & Raymond McNally. In cautarea lui Dracula. Bucharest, 1992. Harmizachi, Eudoxiu. Documente privitoare la istoria romanilor. Bucharest, 1911. Le Goff, Jacques. “Cultura ecleziastica si sultura folclorica in evul mediu.” Pentru un alt evmediu, II. Bucharest, 1986. Nandris, Grigore. “A Philological Analysis of Dracula and Romanian Place-names and Masculine Personal Names in -a, -ea.” The Slavonic and East European Review. 36 (1959): 370-77. Panaitescu, P P (ed), Cronicile slavo-romane din sec. XV-XVI publicate de Ion Bogdan. Bucharest, 1959. Papacostea, Serban. “Cu privire la geneza si raspandirea povestirilor despre factele lui Vlad Tepes.” Romanoslavica 13 (1966). Parvan, Vasile. “Contributii epigrafice la istoria crestinismului daco-roman.” Studii de istoria culturii antice. Bucharest, 1992. Stoicescu, Nicolae. Vlad Tepes. Bucharest, 1976.

#Vlad voda #Vlad Tepes #Vlad Dracula #vlad the impaler #Ladislau Dragkwlya #documents #history #wallachia #romania #vlad dracula tepes #order of the dragon #Constantin Rezachevici #From the Order of the Dragon to Dracula

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Text

the wolf should’ve been afraid of me.

Titans 3.04

just under the wire! ... i hope.

like with the previous review, i’m typing this up as i see the episode. here we go!

spoilers ahead.

1. ... well. that was an interesting cold open.

1.25. i don’t know whether to admire this show’s restraint when it comes to gotham and its excesses, particularly arkham asylum. it’d be easy to go hammer and tongs, like suicide squad (2016) did, or any number of bat media did, at a tropey, colourful~~insanity~~ that can be quite damaging, casting mental illness in strangeness and criminality. it definitely shows gotham as... separate from the rest of the country, its own ecosystem of heroes and villains, a sort of rogue state.

but that ecosystem is still human, with its heroes needing to clip parts of themselves away just to survive, growing old and needing to be recycled, its villains languishing in the same kinds of systems that fail everybody else who needs to be helped. it’s a quieter, tenser sort of wrongness: not strange enough that you can dissociate, but not close enough that you can completely empathise. gotham is its own creature.

1.5. i know that the reasoning behind this is more doylist than anything, but i’m so glad that joker was killed off with little fanfare right at the start of the season. he is the one man in the batverse that’s transcended its confines as this sort of ethereal boogeyman/eternal edgelord and to justify his presence in the series would mean giving him this tired, overblown importance and too much of a stab at colourful, tropey “madness” in this otherwise-subdued series. i wish all batmedia would follow suit and get rid of this fucker.

1.75. so jason is bucking scarecrow’s control! or reminding him of who exactly holds all the cards right now. circling back to what i talked about in the last review, it’s remarkable just how little time it’s been since jason’s “death” and he’s already got ‘minions’ and elaborately set up plans to track, break and kill the titans. just how long has he been planning this? when did he first look at WE weapons prototypes and think that’s something i can use to blow somebody up? and the most unsettling question: did he plan his own death at the hands of the joker just so that he could break batman?

at this point it’s obvious that the scarecrow at least started jason down this path, but it’s frightening just how far he’s travelled already.

1.8. aaagh, less than one minute in! i’ll shut up.

2. conner washing his hands at the sink reminds me that he was directly in the line of explosion when hank got blown up and he’s probably got atomised hank-bits all over his skin that he’s desperately trying to wash off.

... you’re welcome.

2.25. conner, don’t you speak to gar fucking logan like that, sir, no!

2.3. if anything it’s the lex part of him that gave him the knowhow to recognise the weapon and build a de-activator for it.

anyway, for that ‘half-breed’ and ‘talking tiger’ comment?

(i wish, tho, that we actually see conner more interested in the superman part of his legacy, like maybe listening to stories from gar, or even better, dick, so we get a better idea of the pressure he’s feeling to live up to that part of him and not the part that’s lex.)

((i talked about conner’s stages of moral development in his introductory episode last season, but i wonder if the next stage of his self-actualisation would be to further integrate the parts of himself and realise that they are only parts and he, conner, is an entirely different person unto himself that can make decisions on how to use what he has and what he knows. his superman abilities can be used to destroy. his lex knowledge can be used to save.))

3. oh dawn :((

3.25. is this the last we see of dawn and hank? i mean, we know donna is coming back; would it be a stretch to think they’ll try to have a go at resurrecting hank as well?

3.5. “deathstroke didn’t make us into killers.” good, because deathstroke didn’t make jason a killer either. there’s a missing step there you need to be looking for, dick.

3.75. dick did try to break the cycle, step away from gotham, run from the possibility that he could turn into batman. it didn’t help; he couldn’t fully withdraw from his vigilante persona the same time he loathed it, and batman literally haunted him both asleep and awake. but maybe gotham doesn’t have to turn anybody into anything. maybe gotham has nothing to do with it at all. it’s about taking responsibility, realising some sacrifices are pure bullshit, and building an actual family instead of merely a team.

anyway: hugs!

(oh, also? mr “i hate flying”? i mean, there’s perfectly valid reasons to hate flying that’s not related to childhood trauma, but then again, this guy was literally a ‘flying grayson’ once. also also, remember that he also gets sea-sick. must’ve a lot of fun stories to tell.)

4. ooh that gar/kory confrontation was brief but cool!

listen, i have never seen a psychiatrist with that extravagant an office and SIR I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW HOW--

4.5. kory’s so unused to reaching out for help and it’s breaking my heart that HPG likely is some kind of impostor that’s maybe causing her symptoms in the first place.

kory and dick have mostly been apart this season but it’s remarkable how their journeys have paralleled each other; kory processes her grief, isolation and existential dread into a determination to take care of this new family she has, no matter what it takes; dick does much the same, forging ahead with plans and solutions until he has no fuel left in him and spirals into a massive breakdown.

4.25. listen titans this really is a TERRIBLE continuity error. we aren’t goldfish; we can clearly remember that two minutes ago it was gar’s upper arm that was burned, not his forearm. COME ON.

“sensory deprivation tank” *SNORT*

anyway, gar is the BEST

4.5. i wonder where these visions of experimentation took place. was it on tamaran, or on earth, after she came to hunt down rachel/trigon and before she lost all her memories? is HPG a part of the scientist group that experimented on her? ... god, i hope not. i mean, i think he is, but it would be cool to have some positive therapist representation in media.

5. you’d think the van transporting a dangerous supervillain that only batman could catch would be more secure but... i’m also not entirely surprised.

5.15. i love dick gives ZERO shits about hiding himself or even ensuring scarecrow is adequately contained. just turns away after kidnapping him in BROAD DAYLIGHT and says ‘let’s go’. I LOVE THIS DUMBASS

6. lmao gar is having a really really shitty day SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK or just a goddamn story arc of his own

6.5. i’m really confused about the timeline here. so... sometime ago, kory came down to earth to hunt down trigon, yeah? at some further point down the line she and her sister were kidnapped and experimented on. THEN she somehow escapes but... loses her memory? a few months pass and then we see blackfire alive and well and free; she kills faddei, can impersonate other people, and is clearly seeking out kory. but now she’s still in the experiment facility...? what’s going on?

i’m not entirely surprised about the facility being mostly deserted. either the biggest investors in this project gave up on it and it was left to the most fanatic to carry on, or they were deliberately trying to lure kory and get her to free blackfire--expand the environs of the experiment, so to speak.

7. hopefully barbara is going to get something to do other than listen to various men give her Attitude

8. how do you terrorise a terrorist? well:

i love when dick is a scary-competent motherfucker.

8.25. ooooh, the attack on crane at arkham a ploy to get crane to blackgate? nice one dick, i didn’t even think of that. but why though? to protect crane from the titans? to intercept the van to blackgate and “rescue” him? seems likely--red hood was there, except dick got to crane quicker.

9. still reeeallly unclear about the komand’r situation. was komand’r captured after s2? is this all A TRAP?? if so, why are you stepping into the only thing that can contain you, kory????

9.25. so... definite parallels between dick/jason and kory/kom here. i’m just. i’m still. really confused. i’ll shut up now.

10. this may be my favourite dick look yet:

woodsman!dick in a beanie.

10.5. i unironically love how titans has made this bizarrely-devoted-to-his-moniker, toxin-spewing supervillain into a tamer version of hannibal, psychoanalysing his victims into submission. it’s of a piece with how inward looking titans is, the way all of its villains are obsessed with how our protagonists’ minds work, to the point where they would actually spend time inside of them.

there are no big plots to end the world. no apocalypses or endgames here. these villains collect the titans’ insecurities like infinity stones. the way the titans defeat them is by achieving character growth--literally winning by the power of love. literally “the real superpower is the friends we made along the way”!

10.7. anyway, i’m betting dick is used to this bullshit from crane and is humouring him in the service of getting more information. the story about the wolf? an implicit threat, not to mention dick getting to control what crane knows about him and what methods he would use to manipulate him.

am i giving dick too much credit here? i don’t think so. he’s really impressed me so far this season.

10.75. like. there’s a real unreliable narrator vibe coming off with every person that talks about bruce (much like how the various members of the titans talked about jason’s motivations) and to buy into crane’s talk about bruce being a psychopath is to fall for the same manipulation that jason fell for. dick is the only person who hasn’t really psychoanalysed bruce this season, and i think some part of his detective brain is piecing things together into a bigger picture.

11. i’m glad kory rescued kom but did she have to kill the scientist?

(i mean, yeah, probably - the less people know that kom escaped the less likely they’re going to have the fucking govt on their doorstep, but still.)

11.5. dick’s gonna come back to wayne manor, stare straight at komand’r and go, well which room would you like? because the team might as well adopt ANOTHER person, yeah?

12. oh MAN that red hood/nightwing fight was AMAZING! and he did the thing! the boomerang escrima thing! i’m so delighted!

12.5. the anger and disbelief in dick’s voice when he says you told crane EVERYTHING?! tells me that he knew exactly what he was telling crane himself.

12.75. “everything you are is because of him” - oh that reminds me of halluci!bruce from last season. i hope we see halluci!bruce again--he is so vicious but so entertaining... so much more effective at tearing dick down than crane or jason combined. goes to show that dick’s biggest enemy is own fucking head.

12.8. oh no! dick’s shot! crane is in the wind with red hood! blackfire is now with the titans! i love it!

honestly this season’s pacing is such a big step up from the last couple. gold star, show.

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #koriand'r #garfield logan #komand'r #conner kent #dawn granger #jason todd #jonathan crane #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart #a tragic jalebi

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bunchofstraydogs · 3 years

Note

You asked for it :> So may I request the rest of BSD playing Genshin? 😘🥰

Darling, since I can't write that many characters in one go, I thought I should give you something special. I present... 💫 women 💫

Women of BSD as Genshin Impact players

tw: you're in bsd fandom, you know all the tw there are by now

Kyouka Izumi- Assasin in the streets, babysitter in the... Genshin Impact

Kyouka is that cute, stubborn kid that overfixates on things. Atsushi is things. Look, we all know Kyo-chan is mad intelligent and talented and it shows in her game play. Right off the bat she got the sense of the gameplay of every type of character and decided what works best for her. She knows what type of team she's going for and knows how to manage her materials wisely.

When she plays alone, Kyouka works towards bettering her characters and pushing through the storyline. Her favourite way to play the game is with Atsushi, whether alone or in co-op with others. Playing with Jinko is a huge win-win situation for her - she helps him beat up whatever he needs to take down and complete puzzles, he gives her praises and gratitude. And materials, but seldom does she take them.

Her main job, though, is to protect Atsushi and his world from the otherworldly evil known as the suicidal maniac, Dazai Osamu. She's fairly successful.

Main Team: MC, Klee, Keqing, Rosaria

Sub Team: MC, Qiqi, Fischl, Hu Tao

Mains MC, both for her flexibility with elements and because she likes being the little sister to Atsushi's male MC.

Yosano Akiko- retired nurse, now a terrorist

Did you really think she'd stay a healer without having the sadistic satisfaction of hurting people in grotesque ways? Nay. She doesn't have a single healer on team. She either has a teammate who's a healer like Haruno, or she wastes abundance of food until she can teleport to a statue of the seven.

Her game play is on crack, basically. She has several energy spurs, sometimes several times a day, where she rages through the game, before losing interest and going shopping. It's very possible with her that days can pass before she feels like playing again. Then she binges the game for hours and repeat.

When i say she acts like on crack i mean it. She has rage in her veins instead of blood. She tanks her characters and goes out looking for fights with worst possible opponents. Hell, she'll under equip her party just to see how many mofos can she take down in weak state. Spoilers, a fair few. She does die quite a bit, and is almost always out of food, but she's just as stubborn as she's crazy. Those two thing correlate probably. Which is why she made Azdaha her bitch. Her party consists either of strong, hot milfs women like herself, or twinks. You won't see someone like Childe disrespecting her vibe.

Main Team: Beido, Venti, Hu Tao, Rozaria

Sub Team: Lisa, Yanfei, Ningguang, Xingqiu

Beido and Lisa main. Bad bitches only.

Naomi Tanizaki- the fangirl player

She basically collects the cutest characters possible.. That's how she chooses her characters, based on cuteness. She went for the hot ones first to pull her brother but she got jealous and changed her tactic. You know she's spending her money on character skins and certain banners. She's insanely lucky tho?? She got Qiqi on the standard banner as her first 5*, pulled Klee on her banner in little over four 10 pulles and got Diona eventually anyway. Baraba and Xiangling were free and she mained Xiangling untill Klee rolled in. She spent some money on Venti and was already in pity when Ganyu came around. She's fully ready to whale for Kokomi though.

Now i know i said she's incredibly lucky, right? Yeahh that luck has to turn against something to keep the balance and well... she's still crying over Chongyun.

She usually co-ops with her brother, it's a daily ritual. Loves co oping with everyone though, mostly Haruno, Atsushi and Kyouka. She made online friends as well. Actually, there is one person she co ops with almost as much as she does with her brother. IchiGawa is her Genshin bestie and they talk about their crushes and infatuations besides the game itself. Her friend is the only secret she keeps from her brother.

Main Team: Klee, Diona, Venti, Barbara

Sub Team: Razor, Xiangling, Xingqiu, Qiqi

A Klee main.

Haruno Kirako- the healer

Literal angel. You need her, i need her, ADA needs her, the president needs her, just... yes. Her whole team consists of support- healers and crowd control characters. She was a f2p at first, but realised she earns her own money and can spend it however she wishes and she chose the monthly cards.

She's a necessity, point blank. She can get intimidated by new foe at first, but when backed up by her friends, she becomes determined and flexible. Pays good attention to her teammates, most importantly, their health bars, and acts accordingly.

The only reason most of them made it as far as they have, being as reckless as they are.

Main Team: Albedo, Barbara, Jean, Venti

Sub Team: Qiqi, Noel, Jean, Xinyan

Mains Albedo and Barbara

Fan fact: She's very fascinated infatuated with Albedo!! He's even her home screen and has posters and key chain of him.

Gin Akutagawa- that cottagecore assassin

You may be wondering what that could even mean. Let me tell you, she brought Animal Crossing to Genshin Impact. Sure she takes care of her characters and they're pretty powerful, but she kicks ass in real life as well. The game is her little getaway, especially since Serenity pot has been introduced. She's been making away her home for her and her brother characters. You can see her chop wood, collect materials, taking pictures with her friends and her brother, sometimes of pretty scenery and cute moments. A very wholesome player.

She's the type to help her friends explore their world and help them find oculi, open chests, shrines, collect flowers, mine... She's very patient, but if she sees her co-op teammates struggle with something, she'll jump in to help do it herself untill told to back off. In which case she will listen and silently give her support, usually with the cheering stickers in the chat.

She's f2p! Sure, she could get the monthly card at least, as Ryunosuke told her, but she really wants to enjoy the game on her own terms and have what she does through her own effort and hard work. It just feels satisfying to her and more personal.

Main Team: Jean, Ayaka, Diluc, Barbara

Sub Team: Doesn't have one! She just changes characters if certain elements are needed.

Jean main!! She admirers the relationship her and Barbara have. While she's the younger of the two, she's taken the mantle of the older sibling, in a way, and is looking after her reckless as heck brother and cares for him like Jean does for Barbara. Jean is also a wonderful person in her eyes and Gin harbours great respect for the blonde.

Higuchi Ichiyo- IchiGawa 🤡

I love Higuchi so much, but my girl is a mess and a half. Help her, please. No, really, she needs help. She's been over compensating for not being dramatic and eye catching in the battlefield, and has now found a new way to prove herself to her Akutagawa-san. Problem is, as soon as she sees a potentially powerful character, she has to get them and boost them to the havens... yeahh, good thing you can't do loans in the game, otherwise she'd have sharks on her ass for having a bill as dramatic and eye catching as Tsunade's from Naruto. Our girl out there turning heads for wrong reasons. She's definitely spent her pay checks on the game "oh no no, i just buy the monthly subscription, ehe" ehe my ass, you bankrupt bitch. Baal is coming and she's looking to sell a kidney. No, it's not her own and no, it doesn't have anything to do with the game. It's a mission, for God's sake.

But hey, the game is a good investment for her! She even made a friend, one that totally understands her how she feels!! They're very alike as well, ready to do anything for the person they love. The two talk about love a lot and have bonded over it. Higuchi is actually a jealous and a protective type of person, so she hides her friend from Gin and Tachihara like snake hides it's legs. If only they knew 🤡. But it's better this way as they both have a certain sense of normalcy and familiarity they were missing in their daily lives. (Higuchi and Naomi meeting scenario when?)

Main Team: Xiao, Fischl, Xingqiu, Diluc

Sub Team: Baal (soon?), Venti, Ganyu, Zhongli

She mains Xiao because he reminds her of Akutagawa-san and yes, she uses characters from her sub team when playing with others.

Fan Fact: when she was asked why her username is IchiGawa, she said she's like a river 🤡 No, it does absolutely not stand for Ichiyo Akutagawa.

Ozaki Kouyo- the husbando and loli collector

Don't get the wrong idea when i said loli collector. She just needs to adopt them and look after them. She also enjoys watching her precious babies kick ass like her Kyouka. But that's a two way sword, because she gets angry when they die. Savage.

And yeahh, the real reason she's playing the game... Mr Zhongli. She switches often between eng and jpn audios because she can't decide which sounds sexier. Also, Mr Diluc? Yes, she would like to be served one sex on the beach please and thank you! Ah, Mr Kaeya, a perfect window of opportunity, yes.

She has a huge spot for the teenager group as well. Razor, Bennett, Fishl, Xiangling, Xingqiu and Chongyun are also her kids. She just finds them very precious (don't we all?).

Main Team: Zhongli, Kaeya, Bennett, Diluc

Sub Team: Diona, Klee, Qiqi, Sayu

A Zhongli and Diluc main.

Bonus:

Elise- the evil lackadaisical player

Mori found out about the game from Higuchi and Tachihara and introduced it to Elise, telling her she should make a team of sweet little girls like herself and have fun going on adventures around Teyvat. In response, Elise made a team that, not only does it not have a single child in it, but is using it to gaslight and bully Rintarou.

"Why aren't you smart and inventive like Albedo?"

"Why aren't you as passionate and persistent as Sucrose?"

"Look how capable, loved and admired Ningguang is. You could never."

"I wish i had someone as strong, caring, handsome and rich like Childe looking after me. He would treat me like a real princess. "

Mori has been crying rivers ever since.

Thing is, Elise isn't even that interest in the story. Actually, she couldn't care less. Some characters are interesting to her and she likes the graphics, but other than that, she's mostly playing the game to torture the greasy doctor (as she should).

Main Team: Albedo, Sucrose, Ningguang, Childe

Sub Team: doesn't have one

Doesn't have a main either, she plays whoever she feels like playing.

I wanted to add Lucy too, but my mind wasn't cooperating ;-; Sorry about that. I do hope you liked this, Eli 💛

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #kyoka izumi #haruno kirako #higuchi ichiyo #ozaki kouyou #bsd elise #tanizaki naomi

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demureclarity · 2 years

Text

𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓...

Chloe Robbins was raised by her mother, Rachel Allen. She married Tim Robbins and became Mrs Rachel Allen-Robbins. The two were so happy together, with the picture perfect life but there was one thing that wasn’t so perfect between them. Tim was in the army and it took a toll on their marriage.

He was constantly back and forth on tours and it left Rachel wondering if he would ever return home. The nights were the longest, waiting for that call to tell her that he was alright. It always came. Even if it was later than the last day... but then one day, that call never came in. She didn’t hear from him and she knew from that very moment that something was wrong.

Rachel hadn’t heard from Tim in a few days and her worry and fear was kicking in. She had called @withlivelycharm, Tim’s sister, to see if she had heard anything. No success. The next few calls she made was to Barbara and Daniel Robbins - Tim’s parents. Neither of them had heard from Tim either.

Rachel was starting to panic so she went to visit her in laws to try and calm her nerves. She was hiding a big secret and wanted nothing more than to tell Tim. She was pregnant. They had spent so long trying to get pregnant, but it just never stuck and the one time it had, Tim wasn’t here to celebrate this joyous news that they had both been waiting so long for.

She was blessed with this baby she had the joys of carrying, but then she found out that Tim’s life was taken away. He was killed in action. He never knew about the baby. He never got the news that he was going to be a father and his death completely destroyed Rachel. She hardly left the house. She stayed curled up on her couch, clutching a t-shirt of his and a framed photo of their wedding day.

Despite her once close bond with Arizona, Rachel just couldn’t bring herself to talk to her anymore so she completely pulled away. She struggled through her pregnancy alone and gave birth to Chloe Jayne Robbins. Rachel and Tim had spoken about baby names before and he had said he loved the name Jayne. Rachel had made fun of him, but with his passing, she thought it was a nice way to honour him.

Having Chloe was hard. Rachel had no clue what she was doing and she was still grieving the loss of Tim. She had pulled away from his family and just needed to get away, so she packed her bags and moved to California with her daughter, cutting most contact with the Robbins family. She stayed in touch with Barbara and Daniel via letters but everything else was much too painful.

When Chloe was five, she met another man. She worked hard to heal and Andy came into her life at just the right time. Chloe knew he wasn’t her real father, but she didn’t question it once. She enjoyed Adam’s company and he was nothing but sweet to her. Then, on her fourteenth birthday, she got to the mail before her mother could and discovered she had been hiding half of her family from her.

Chloe found a birthday card, sent from Seattle. It was addressed to her and inside it, was a letter about how they would wish she would write them back and how they would never stop writing to her. It was signed Barbara and Daniel Robbins.

Robbins. They’re family. Chloe was so mad at her mother for hiding this from her that she locked herself in her bedroom for her whole birthday. She didn’t come out for cake or presents or anything. She stayed in her room, crying with that card clutched to her chest. Her mother had been hiding these from her. Why? Why would she hide the cards and half of her family?

The next day, Chloe confronted her mother and they argued. The subject was shut down again, until two years later. Rachel finally agreed to let Chloe meet her family in Seattle. They flew over, spent some time with Barbara and Daniel and then Rachel dropped Chloe off at the hospital to meet Arizona for the first time.

Being in the hospital with Arizona now and talking about the butterfly clips in her hair made Chloe smile from ear to ear. As Arizona explained why she couldn’t have the clips in, Chloe nodded and took in the information as she always did with everything that everyone had told her. “Oh, okay. That makes sense. Oh! I could come in and braid the kids' hair one day?” Chloe suggested. “It might give them something to look forward to. I know hospitals can be a scary place.” She beamed a smile, that kind hearted side to her coming to the surface once again.

Chloe had been told stories about Tim by her grandparents and her mother, but she was here to hear out things that Arizona had to say. She didn’t mind if it was the same story either. She just wanted to know him and feel as close to him as possible. “I don’t have many good friends either so I know how it feels. I have some super close friends though.” Chloe added with a smile. “I want to know everything about him. I don’t mind hearing a story again. Sometimes, it’s better the second time around anyway.” Chloe giggled sweetly.

Rachel had kept Chloe from everyone because she couldn’t deal with the loss of Tim and then she waited too long and thought everyone hated her. Chloe wanted to explain that her mother wasn’t a bad person, but she had made some bad decisions. “I think she knows you would never be able to fully hate her, but you know what my Mother’s like.” Chloe rolled her eyes in a joking manner. “She wants to talk to you but she wanted me to have time with you first. Oh, did I tell you she got married?! His name is Andy. He’s pretty cool but he makes the WORST tea ever!” Chloe pulled a face at the end of her ramble. The classic Robbins thing. Rambling.

“Oh, I saw this cute little park across from here. We could go there? They have a cute little café on the side. That way, you’re close to here if you need to be.” Chloe suggested, knowing how important time was when it was an emergency. She was very mature. Whilst Arizona went to grab some water for both of them and get her resident clued up on cases, Chloe texted her mother and let her know that she was going to spend the afternoon with Arizona. She was beyond excited to get to know her Aunt and learn more about the father she had never gotten to meet.

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years

Text

We Dream in the Dark, for the Most Part

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses.

Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls.

“Handling it!”

It was a grueling patrol, but Jason is relieved to be home. He missed having Roy by his side tonight, but their usual babysitter, Mrs. Peterson from next door, came down with pneumonia yesterday and canceled. She doesn’t seem to have any idea that her neighbors are vigilantes, but they pay her enough that she doesn’t ask. Lian is coloring at the coffee table while Jason toes off his boots, leaving them at the front door. She’s wearing her fluffy Stitch pajamas, which she’s been practically living in for the last week and a half. “Hey, princess.” Jason drops a kiss on top of her head as he passes. “Where’s your dad?” “In the kitchen. He’s playing with the electricity again.” “Oh, good. Because, you know, I was actually hoping our place would explode, just to spice things up.” Lian giggles. “Has he fed you yet?” She shakes her head, her black pigtails swinging back and forth. “Nope. But he promised me special sushi if I cleaned up all my books.” Jason will never understand Lian’s passion for her “special sushi,” which is just deli ham slathered in strawberry yogurt and rolled up like a spring roll from hell. Jason gets nauseated just thinking about it, but the kid loves the stuff. “And did you clean up?” Lian points over at the bookshelf against the wall. They don’t have a huge apartment by any means, but Jason insisted on dedicating an entire wall to his books. That was one of the conditions when Roy first asked Jason to move in with him and Lian. It took weeks of finagling to convince Jason to relinquish a small section of the bookshelf for Lian’s picture books, which are indeed all in their right places. “Then it looks like you’ve earned your sushi, little miss. I’m gonna shower first and then I’ll make it for you, alright?” “I can make it by myself.” Jason snorts. “After what happened last time? I don’t think so.” It was his own fault for thinking a five-year-old could prepare her own food. It took a solid hour to scrub the yogurt stains out of the carpet. Jason pokes his head in the kitchen on his way to the bathroom. “Tell me you’re not burning the building down.” “Okay, then I’m not burning the building down,” Roy says around the screwdriver trapped between his teeth. He stands in front of what was once a light switch, tinkering with something that he most definitely should not be tinkering with, but Jason is picking his battles today.

“I’m not going to bother telling you that you’re on your second strike with the landlord. If he has to come up here again, I’m not defending you.” “You know what I miss? The old days when people would greet each other by saying things like, ‘hi, sweetie, how was your day?’ ‘Oh, it was lovely, darling. How about a kiss after spending hours apart and missing each other dearly?’ ‘Babe, it’s like you read my mind!’ You know, stuff like that?” Jason arches an eyebrow. “I’ve got mobster blood caked in my hair. Still want a hello kiss?” “Not really, no. Go shower.” “Try not to blow a fuse in the meantime, please.” Roy salutes with his screwdriver. “Aye, aye, captain.” Jason goes to the bathroom and relishes in the feeling of peeling off his armor and the bodysuit underneath, every layer soaked with sweat and blood. It’s a good thing his Red Hood getup is all dark colors, or he’d have scarred Lian for life ten times over already. He turns the shower knob as hot as it’ll go, letting his muscles slowly unravel under the spray. He takes his time scrubbing off the blood and dirt, whistling some shitty pop song that Dick paid Barbara to blast through the comms all. Night. Long. Jason has plans to add that to his repertoire of torture techniques if he ever needs some extra edge. It’s definitely effective. Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses. Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls. “Handling it!” Another sigh. This is what he gets for leaving Roy alone. It’s Jason’s own fault, really. He quickly rinses the shampoo from his hair and leaves the bathroom, and towel wrapped around his waist. He navigates the pitch black apartment and finds Roy lighting a match in the kitchen. He’s got Lian tucked in one arm. “What did I say?” Jason asks. “I know, I know—” “I said not to blow a fuse. That was your one job.” “Technically, I didn’t blow a fuse. I just overloaded the circuit and cut off the electricity for the whole building.” Jason smacks himself in the forehead. “Wonderful.” Remind him again why he’s in love with this man? “I’m sure it’ll be fixed in no time.” “You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes.” “You’re overreacting. It’s just a little blackout.” “We have ice cream in the freezer.” “I’ll buy more.” Jason runs a hand through his wet hair. “You’re killing me, babe. Again.” “It’s just one night without power, right? I’m sure it’ll come back on in the morning.” He bounces Lian a little, who’s got her face buried in Roy’s neck. Poor thing is terrified of the dark. “What do you think, pumpkin? You think you can be brave for one little night in the dark?” “I don’t like it. It’s scary.” “I know it is, sweetheart. But do you want to know a secret?” He leans in close to her ear, mock-whispering, “Jaybird over here is afraid of the dark too.” Lian looks at Jason with wide eyes. “Really?” Roy nods. “Yep. But you know what? He’s so brave and strong that he overcame that fear and now it hardly bothers him anymore. Do you think you can be brave like that?” “I can be super brave.” “That’s my girl. Not, sit here for a minute, ‘kay?” He sets her down on the arm of the sofa. The match has fizzled out by now, leaving them in complete darkness. “I know I have some scented candles around here somewhere. Dinah keeps getting them as gifts and pushes them on me when she doesn’t like them.” Jason’s eyes widen. “Wait, watch out for the—” Roy trips with a shout, glass shattering as he falls. “—coffee table.” Roy just groans in response. “Hang on, let me get a light.” Jason makes his way to the drawer they keep the emergency flashlight in. He turns on the beam to show Roy on the floor, surrounded by glass shards and clutching his leg. There are several small cuts peppering his knee like he crawled on a beach made of broken bottles. Jason gasps. “Oh my god, Roy! You broke Lian’s crayons!” Roy flips him off, angling his hand so Lian can’t see. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Jason helps him up and hands him the flashlight. “Lian, honey, will you help him get to the couch? I need to put some clothes on.” And he’s almost positive there’s another flashlight somewhere in Roy’s nightstand. They’re going to need all the light they can get. Jason gets dressed and retrieves the flashlight, plus one of Lian’s Disney princess glow sticks. When he returns, Roy is on the couch with his leg propped up on what remains of their coffee table. Lian is shining the flashlight on her tiny first-aid kit which Kori gave her last Christmas. She sifts through her collection of band-aids. “One to ten?” “Barely a two,” Roy says. “I already dug the glass out, and none were deep enough to need stitches.” Jason checks him over anyway, just to be sure. He wipes away the blood and applies some ointment over the cuts. He turns to Lian when he’s finished. “Can I trust you to finish this up while I make dinner?” She nods enthusiastically. Perfect. Lian can keep herself busy plastering Roy in Hello Kitty bandages, and Jason will have time to figure out what the hell they’re doing, food-wise. “How do you expect to make dinner without electricity?” Roy asks, reading his mind yet again. “What, did you never have to eat cold leftover pizza in your million-dollar mansion growing up? Weird.” He dodges the pillow Roy throws his way, laughing. “Those jokes don’t count when you also grew up in a million-dollar mansion.” Thirty minutes later and the three of them are sitting on the couch, Roy and Jason eating cold mushroom casserole while Lian enjoys her ham and yogurt. Once you get over the temperature difference, cold casserole turns out to be just as tasty as hot casserole. Gordon Ramsey should take notes. Jason managed to track down the candles Roy was talking about earlier and set them in various places around the living room, lighting the room in a dim glow. It’s not perfect lighting by any means—not even good lighting, really, but at least no one will be falling into another coffee table anytime soon. Roy’s knee is covered in Hello Kitty band-aids, some of which are in spots that weren’t even cut up by the glass. Roy doesn’t seem to mind. Jason took a picture for potential blackmail reasons. “I’m bored,” Lian says after a while. “You could always go to bed,” Roy suggests, “given that your bedtime was fifteen minutes ago but your daddies are nice enough to let you stay up this long.” “That was nice of us,” Jason agrees. “I think we’ve earned a quiet night to ourselves.” Lian pouts. She grabs Jason’s arm, clinging to his bicep like a koala. “But it’s dark in my room.” “It’s dark in there every night.” “It’s really dark tonight. Can I stay here with you instead?” Her eyes are big and innocent, perfectly disguising the mischief lurking within. This girl could be a successful con artist one day. (Not that Jason or Roy will ever let that happen. She’s going to grow up and become a veterinarian or something equally harmless.) Roy and Jason meet eyes, having a silent conversation over Lian’s head. Finally, Roy sighs. “Fine. You can stay up with us a little longer, but only because of the blackout, okay? Don’t go thinking that this trick is going to work tomorrow night.” Lian claps her hands, bouncing in her seat. “Can I have coffee?” “Absolutely not.” She isn’t deterred in the slightest. “This is gonna be so fun! We can stay up all night long, even past midnight and three o’clock which is when the ghosts come out.” “Ghosts, huh?” Jason says. “Yeah, Aunt Stephanie told me all about it! Three o’clock is when the witching hour happens and witches and ghosts come out like Bloody Mary and Freddie Cougar and they call come into your house and walk around but you can only see them if you’re awake, which I’m gonna be because I’m not even tired, I could stay up all night long and for a million, bazillion years, and—” She lasts seven minutes. Lian is fast asleep now with her head in Roy’s lap, her tiny feet dangling off the arm of the sofa. Jason drapes a blanket over her, kissing her on the forehead. He’s careful not to jostle Roy’s bandaged leg as he takes a seat beside him, putting his arm around Roy’s shoulders. “Well, I’m fucking exhausted.” “It’s cool if you want to go to bed,” Roy says. “I don’t mind sticking around here with Lian until the power comes back on.” “Nah, it’s fine. I like it better in here, anyway.” In here, where the light is. Roy doesn’t comment on the hidden meaning that he definitely catches on to, and Jason loves him for it. He just kisses Jason’s cheek, settling against his side. Jason doesn’t mention the darkness thing often. Or at all. After all, grown men don’t get scared of the dark—especially when they live in a place like Gotham and were raised in a literal cave. But if Lian insists on having the hallway light on in addition to the night light next to her bed, then Jason isn’t about to discourage her. Roy never says a word about it. Every night he keeps the door to his and Jason’s bedroom cracked open just enough so a sliver of hallway light floods in, and it’s good for both of them, really. Jason feels safer with the light on, and they both feel safer being able to hear every creak and draft in the apartment, falling asleep knowing that nothing will sneak up on them. Even when Jason was living on his own, post-resurrection, he always kept a lamp on when he went to sleep in whichever safehouse he was squatting in that night. Back before he had a place to call home. On especially bad nights, he would turn on the lights in every single room, even the one in the microwave. Only then could he sleep soundly. He can’t exactly do that now, but he doesn’t need to. Whenever his head gets too heavy to bear, he’ll simply wrap his arms around Roy and fall back asleep to the sound of Roy’s heart beating under his ear. He falls back asleep in minutes. Jason isn’t entirely sure what caused the light issue in the first place. Sometimes he can’t remember if it arose before or after he was adopted by Bruce. Other times he’s sure it’s lingering trauma from the coffin, from waking up in pitch blackness six feet underground. No bearings, no sense of what was happening or where he was. The only thing in there with him was the thick, cloying darkness on every side of him. Jason shivers just thinking about it. “We should get her a new night light,” he says. “Battery powered, not a plug-in. It would be a good investment if you ever try destroying our electricity again.” Roy hums. “We can pick one up tomorrow. I need to take her clothes shopping anyway. And it might be a good idea to have a couple for the living room and bathroom so we don’t have a repeat of tonight.” “Good idea.” God, Jason’s craving a cigarette right now. Every nerve in his body urges him to get one and soothe the anxiety buzzing in his brain, but he has a rule against smoking in the apartment or anywhere near Lian. He’d settle for a beer instead, whatever keeps the buzzing at bay, but he doesn’t drink at home either out of respect for Roy’s sobriety. He’s stuck. Roy must notice Jason’s twitching fingers because he reaches into his pocket, careful not to wake Lian as he pulls out a stick of nicotine gum. “Here.” Jason unwraps the gum and shoves it in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in as he chews, letting it out slowly. It takes the edge off some, but not completely. Still, it’s better than nothing. “You’re just carrying these on you now?” "Came in handy, didn't it?" “And I thought Bruce was the king of being prepared for everything.” Jason straightens the wrapper until it’s flat like a card. He holds it over the nearest candle until it catches, watching the flame consume the paper, eating away at its edges. He blows it out just before it gets too close to his fingers. “When I was a kid,” he says after a minute, “my mom and I used to light candles like these. The heat would get turned off pretty often since she was usually too high to remember what day it was, let alone when the bills needed to be paid. But whenever it happened, she would send me to the store with a couple dollars and I’d buy a bag of marshmallows. We’d roast them over the candles and pretend we were camping.” “That sounds nice.” “It was. I mean, now I realize that it’s actually really fucking sad that we had to resort to candles ‘cause my mom wasted all her cash on drugs and couldn’t pay the heating bill. But at the time, it was nice. It’s one of the few good memories I have of that time.” He feels more than sees Roy’s fingers lacing through his own, clasping their hands together. “I was telling the truth earlier, you know. You’re brave and strong and badass all the way.” Jason snorts. “Even if I get freaked out every time the lights go out?” Roy doesn’t laugh with him. “Yeah, even then. And you know why?” He rests his head on Jason’s shoulder, lets Jason feel his warmth. “Because of all the things to be afraid of, you picked the one that can be fixed by just turning the lights on. Once you do that, there’s nothing left in the world that can scare you. And that’s pretty damn badass if you ask me.”

#whumptober 2020 #no.27 #power outage #jayroy #jason todd #red hood #robin #batman #roy harper #red arrow #arsenal #red hood and the outlaws #red hood/arsenal #lian harper #dc comics #fanfiction #fanfic

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rosemaidenvixen · 3 years

Text

In the Fullness of Time

Chapter 3: Today

Ao3

Merlin laid perfectly still, not even risking cracking an eye open.

Despite appearances, his foe was no fool, and it would not do to treat him as such.

But even so, he’d been feigning sleep for quite some time, a new strategy may be in order. Slowly, he shifted and blinked, making a show of just coming to wakefulness. Turning his head to the side, Merlin caught his captor’s eye “My good fellow, could I trouble you for some water?”

The troll hadn’t moved from the time Merlin had last seen him, and at hearing the wizard’s request a small smile formed on his face.

“No,”

“Surely you wouldn’t allow an old man to die of thirst?”

“Bah-boo-rah say to watch, so AAARRRGGHH watch,”

It took a great deal of effort to keep the frustration from showing on his face. Normally he wouldn’t bother trying to negotiate, but in this case not only were his still healing wounds waylaying him more than he cared to admit, the brute had been given explicit instructions to sit on him if Merlin tried to move from his prone position on the couch.

“Come now I’m hardly going to get up and run in the few seconds you look away,”

“No,”

“Still--”

Without warning a glass tumbler full of water was placed on the table just inches away from Merlin’s nose.

“Here you are my good Wizard,” the smaller, talkative troll stepped around the couch to stand beside his companion “One cup of water as requested,”

Merlin stared evenly first at the water, then the pair “....I suppose I should thank you,”

Blinkous grinned at him “Think nothing of it, I’m more than happy to fetch you anything you might need while you are on your mandated rest,”

The troll didn’t even bother trying not to sound smug as he said it.

Merlin was done bargaining “Be that as it may, I have been alive for thousands of years and am more than capable of judging--”

“Oh Barbara! I do believe our patient is due for another check up,”

Immediately light footsteps started pattering down the stairs “What’s this now?”

“Your patient,” the troll glanced at Merlin with two of his eyes “Believes he is well enough to get up and start walking around,”

The flame haired physician stepped around the couch into Merlin’s view, frown firmly etched into her face “You most certainly are not, getting a hole punched into your abdomen means a mandated two weeks of taking it easy,”

“But surely--”

“That means no buts except for yours on the couch resting,”

Merlin sighed and settled back onto the couch. Hopefully Hisirdoux and his companions would be back soon. His apprentice may be a bit green around the edges, but it would be nice to be in the company of another Wizard. One who understood that--

The front door creaked as it swung open.

“We’re back, and we have a huge problem,”

Curious, Merlin turned his head towards the sound. It was the Trollhunter’s voice, but something was off.

“Actually I’d say this is more of a little--”

“Domzalski if you finish that sentence you won’t live to see morning,”

“Geez Steve lighten up,”

It wasn’t just the Trollhunter, all of their voices sounded higher and sharper.

He turned to rise off the couch, only to grunt as he ran into a massive stone arm hovering above him, the troll it was attached to not even looking at him.

Merlin glowered and reluctantly sank back down.

Barbara turned to look at the newcomers, eyes going wide behind her spectacles “Oh my-- what happened?”

“That’s what we’d like to find out,”

The group walked around to the other side of the couch, allowing Merlin to see them for the first time, raising an eyebrow as he did.

“You all went out to subdue a Warlock, so how is it you managed to get yourselves turned into children?”

Hisirdoux gave him a sheepish grin “We had the Warlock cornered, but then they released all of their stolen magic at once, next thing we know, this,” he gestured at all of them “Any ideas?”

“Not really no,”

“Question,” the Akiridion boy spoke up “Are you always aggressively unhelpful or just with us?”

Merlin narrowed his eyes, no respect for master Wizards these days “Based on the extremely limited information you’ve given me, the cause of your condition could literally be anything, now if you give me a few more details I might be able to narrow it down,”

“The Warlock tried blasting us with fire, but we were able to corner him, then he started chanting, I don’t remember what, and then he burst into a ball of white light. Douxie put a shield around him and I tried to funnel some of it away through a portal, but it was too much. He exploded and then…” the shadow witch trailed off.

Finally some relevant information.

“Based on what you’ve told me it sounds like that Warlock was supplementing themselves with Phoenix feathers, some rest and some Aves tonic should clear that right up,”

All the de-aged hunters wilted in relief at the knowledge that their condition was not permanent “Ok, so where do we get some of that?” the Trollhunter’s red-headed friend spoke up.

“Oh I don’t have any,” Merlin leveled his gaze at the massive troll “How could I have been brewing tonics when I’ve been stuck here on the couch for days,”

AAARRRGGHH narrowed his eyes at him.

Hisirdoux pulled out his phone “I’ll give Archie a call, he should be able to get us the ingredients so I can brew it myself,”

The physician stepped towards them, giddy smile on her face and her own phone clasped in both hands “Ok I have to get pictures of you guys while you’re like this,”

They all groaned and made noises of half hearted protest. Except for Hisirdoux. Hisirdoux yanked his sleeves down to cover his wrists, face turning chalky “I-- uh….”

His response did not go unnoticed. The physician glanced down, mouth falling open when she spotted the scars, and immediately slipped her phone back into her pocket, concerned expression mirrored by the two trolls.

“Unless you don’t want to, I won’t take your pictures if you don’t want me to,”

“It’s ummm…” Hisirdoux glanced around, the other fighters turned children sharing his look of unease “I…..”

In an instant Merlin knew what was going on. Hisirdoux had no issue with being photographed in this state, rather he didn’t want his scars captured in an image for all time. And Hisirdoux had already shared this, along with the origins of his scars, with his fellow hunters. And while he didn’t mind the doctor and trolls knowing, he found the idea of retelling the story so soon daunting.

Taking advantage of the diversion, Merlin swung his legs off the couch and pushed himself upright, grimacing as the movement tugged on his half healed wounds, and cleared his throat to gain their attention.

Everyone turned towards him, the large troll glaring when he saw that Merlin had shifted from his prone position to sitting upright.

“I can answer that question,” he glanced towards Hisirdoux “Do you wish for me to give the short explanation or the complete one?”

Hisirdoux looked like he could have melted with relief “Yeah you can...you can just go ahead and tell them the whole story,”

He started shuffling towards the basement, efforts to be discreet hampered by his reduced size “I’ll just be in the basement...getting started on that tonic,”

The young Trollhunter shared a look with his two friends, who exchanged swift nods with him “We’ll go help,”

“We will?”

The blonde boy kicked the Akiridion in the ankle.

“Flishgag what was that for!?”

“Yes we will, we’re all going to brew potions in the basement and leave the grown ups alone,”

Black eyes widening in understanding, he turned and followed the other Hunters turned children down into the basement “Fine, but kick me again and I’m sending you to the moon,”

The last of them filled downstairs, shutting the door behind them. Leaving the human, Wizard, and two trolls alone.

All eyes in the room were on Merlin now.

“As you undoubtedly saw, Hisirdoux has scars on his wrists that he prefers to keep discreet. As for the injuries that lead to them….” Merlin had to make an effort to keep the rancor out of his voice. This story was not a pleasant one, and even a near millenia later the memories left a bitter taste in his mouth “Those happened well over nine hundred years ago….”

#tales of arcadia #toawizards #in the fullness of time #rmvwrites #merlin #aaarrrgghh!!!#blinkous galadrigal #Barbara Lake #hisirdoux casperan #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #krel tarron #steve palchuk #toby domzalski

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oceanera12 · 4 years

Text

Gotham Knights: Story

“In breaking news, we’ve received reports of an explosion somewhere north of the city.” “We’re still waiting for the police to confirm if there are any victims.” “This story is evolving rapidly, please bear with us.” “We hear this really loud, ‘boom’... there was smoke everywhere.” “Emergency services have confirmed that they have discovered a body buried in the wreckage. We’re still waiting for further details.” “Many emergency vehicles are on sight!” “It appears that a large portion of the building has actually collapsed!” “In International news, an explosion rocked Gotham City earlier today.” “We’re now able to confirm that billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne is--”

This game is kicking it off with a “BANG” worthy of the Joker’s attention. Bruce flipping “Batman” Wayne is allegedly killed in some kind of explosion and it’s up to our rag tag team of “Gotham Knights” to keep Gotham safe.

Yes, I said “allegedly”. This may be jumping the gun a little and nothing in the trailer hints at it, but I do believe that Batman is still alive. I think he thought he was going to die, but ended up getting kidnapped by the Court for some kind of plan-- but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Breaking it Down

Here’s what we know about the story so far from the trailer and game play demo:

Bruce is “dead” (Nothing short of a body, tested and proved to not be a clone, duplicate, or just a decoy will convince me otherwise), as the result of some kind of explosion that literally rocked the city.

He’s left Nightwing, Batgirl, Red Hood, and Robin the Belfry as a place of operations

He has also asked them to protect Gotham for him

For some reason, Bruce was alone when he died. It is unclear if he was in his “Batman” get up at the time of his death, or if he was “Brucie”.

Jim Gordon is dead and has been for some time. The result of his death is the GCPD doesn’t trust the Bats anymore.

Alfred is alive (Thank Gotham for that) and helping the Batfam

Mr. Freeze is involved in the game as a villain, most likely not the main villain but part of the main campaign. His plan involves freezing Gotham for reasons unknown.

The Court of Owls is the main bads of the game and may or may not have killed/kidnapped Bruce.

A few random minor points (with pictures!):

Jason has most likely been killed by the Joker and brought back with the Lazarus pit (as seen from the white in his hair and where that scar on his face most likely came from).

Barbara has most likely been shot and paralyzed by the Joker, but has since recovered as seen by the wheelchair in the foreground of the Clock Tower.

“Robin” is most likely Timothy Drake due to the science stuff surrounding him in his hideout/Titan room(?), the fact that he HACKED THE WATCHTOWER, and the cup of coffee on his desk (Honestly, the last point is the one that backs this claim up the most).

Story may or may not play out differently depending on which Batfamily member you are playing as (Robin is not seen in any of the cut scenes with Batgirl during the game demo. This could be something they are adding in/was not ready for the demo, but I highly doubt it)

Speculations/Spit-balling Some Stuff

Bruce may have blown up the cave with him in it based on his comment about “this message was sent out when I destroyed the cave and it’s contents”. This is unclear as we do not know what blew up only knowing it was north of the city. Why he would do such a thing is beyond me, but these are the people who did Arkham Knight so who knows.

This may be some kind of “Found Family” story with the four batkids coming together with Alfred to bring justice for their Batdad. If so, I am all for it and am crossing all my fingers and toes.

I am severely concerned that the Court of Owls not only “killed” Bruce but is also responsible for Jim Gordon’s death. And for good reason because HAS ANYONE ELSE NOTICED THE FLIPPING OWL ON JIM’S BADGE? NO? JUST ME? OKAY! (I’ll build on this in a separate post)

Other villains who may show up/I hope show up include but are not limited too: Deathstroke, a very SHORT cameo of sort from the Joker (hopefully in a flashback that helps build a character. eg. Jason or Barbra), Penguin, Ras Al Gaul (mostly because I want confirmation for a Damian Wayne DLC-- I want to see all my Bat Boys, dang it), Catwoman (as some kind of mentor character for one of the batkids, maybe?), Blockbuster, Black Mask, Dick’s evil Talon Grandfather, random members of the Court, you get the idea. Give us some of the more obscure villains mixed in with a FEW popular ones if you have too.

Calling it: Freeze’s plan is either based on a hopeful attempt to save with wife (the Court has that creepy reanimation of the Talons so maybe there’s some kind of cure he can make out of it???), or they are going to completely forget about his wife and just make him the villain for the sake of it. Please be the first thing.

At some point in the game there shall be a moment where Jason is question/confronted/kicks himself out because of the whole “gun” thing. Heck, it may start that way with Jason having to prove to his siblings that he can be trusted.

I’m hoping each character gets their own separate development/different story line and that we actually get them going through the separate stages of grief. Heck, each kid could be stuck on a specific stage (Tim on denial, Jason on anger, Dick on grief, Barbra on acceptance because she’s gone through this before very recently) Give us emotional batfamily, you cowards.

Building on that, I am hoping for separate campaigns/story lines for specific characters, which can serve as side missions or go to the main story, depending on the mission. (eg. Dick vs Blockbuster could be an optional side mission. Dick vs evil Talon grandfather would be essential to the main story)

Part of me wants Barbra and Dick to be “dating” or have had a past relationship. The other part of me just wants them to be friends/siblings so we’ll just have to see how the characters interact.

Give me an Alfred who kicks butt with his shotgun when the Talon’s invade the Belfry (“when”, NOT “if”)

If the Talon’s have Bruce, then I want an evil Batman vs the Batkids. And I don’t mean for one fight, I want him showing up half-way through the game and the kids have to fight to get him back. Give me a brainwashed Bruce that’s only snapped out of it because of his kids!

I want to see Tim transition from Robin to Red Robin or “Drake” if you have too.

A fight for the cowl between the kids before someone (most likely Alfred) steps in and tells them to be themselves, it’s what Bruce would have wanted.

Timothy Drake vs Ras Al Gaul

Jason Todd vs Black Mask

Barbra Gordon vs whoever killed Jim Gordon/is responsible for his death

Dick Grayson vs Deathstroke

Justice League references (mention Superman, Wonder Woman, the Green Lanterns, etc)

Please make this story stretch over MULTIPLE NIGHTS. Preferably longer than one month but I’ll take a week-- heck, I’ll take three days if you can’t make it longer. Change up the character for ever “night”, change the mission types (stealth, fight, info gathering, etc), do SOMETHING.

If DLC is a thing, I want to see Bruce Wayne “Batman” , Damian Wayne “Robin”, Duke Thomas “The Signal”, and either Stephanie Drake “Spoiler” or Cassandra Cain as “Black Bat” or “Orphan”. And add some story for all of them, pretty please?

Also: THEY CHANGED THE COURT NURSERY RHYME AND I HATE IT.

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earth-ambassador-jim · 4 years

Text

Lost Souls: Story 10

The Ones We Hail (part 3)

Lost Souls Summary: Merlin awakens early from his sleep. He decides that he doesn’t want to leaving anything to chance and kidnaps the young James Lake Jr. to began training his Trollhunter as early as possible.

Barbara is determined to hunt down the man who kidnapped her son. In her efforts to get her son back she finds a strange old radio that speaks to her in a woman’s voice. The radio leads her to an underground society of shapeshifters.

Mother and son meet again years later as strangers on opposing sides.

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

“Jim! I’m here!” Kanjigar called out as he entered the cave

There was no response. No patter of small feet.

Kanjigar frowned; usually Jim was all over him by now. Where was the child?

“Jim?” He called again.

Concern began to take root in his chest and the old troll lifted his head and tested the air for the child’s scent. He could smell both Jim’s scent and Merlin’s. They were fairly fresh but…

Kanjigar sniffed again.

There was something unfamiliar in the air. A slight shiver ran through him setting his tusks on edge.

He followed the strange scent through the roughhewn hallways and deeper into Merlin’s abode. What was it? No one could get in here without Merlin’s permission.

The scent led him to Jim’s room. Kanjigar’s whole body was tense. If something had happened to the boy…

His hand wrapped around the amulet where it hung from a chain around his neck. Without a word the armor materialized around him. He didn’t summon Daylight just yet but he kept one hand free as he eased open the door.

The room was empty but the strange scent was fresh.

All Kanjigar’s muscles were tense as he entered. He moved slowly; leaving the door open as a precaution.

His ears were pricked and alert as his eyes swept over the room.

Jim’s toys sat undisturbed on the small shelf he had liberated from the junkyard. The picture book he had borrowed from Blinky was still there.

There was no sign of the boy himself.

His eyes tracked across the room before a small movement drew them.

Curled in the large pile of blankets that served as Jim’s bed was a small blue troll. They were staring at him with wide surprised eyes, both hands slightly raised as if that had been just holding their horns.

His eyes snagged on the hands. The five fingered hands.

Kanjigar’s nostril flared as he took in their scent. It smelled both like troll and human, with a heavy scent of some unidentified potion hanging over it all. More importantly it smelled like Jim.

A changeling.

Kanjigar’s ears went back -a jolt of betrayal stabbing through him like a dagger- He’d been fooled. His ears pressed tighter against his head as his fist clenched. Had he ever met the real Jim or had the impure been pulling his strings the whole time? This was what happened when a Trollhunter let themself get attached.

The low growl that rumbled from his chest caused the imposter to flinch. Its eyes widened further and its ears pressed down.

“Kanji…” It started.

Kanjigar didn’t give it a chance to spin its net of deceit. In a second he lunged forward pinning it to a wall.

The impure shrieked and wailed. It clawed at his hand for a moment before going limp. It shook as big tears dripped down its face. Its eyes looked so much like Jim’s that he felt a pang in his core at the sight. He shook his head and steeled himself; he wouldn’t fall for crocodile tears. Not again.

“How long ago were you planted,” He demanded.

If the changelings had found a way to fool even Merlin, they would be in trouble. If he was being honest part of him hoped that somehow, against all prior knowledge of when the exchange could happen, the changeling was a recent plant and he had actually known the real Jim.

The impure didn’t respond. It just kept whimpering and pressed its eyes closed. It was a very convincing actor. He would give it that.

He opened his mouth and…

“What are you doing?”

Kanjigar startled at Merlin’s harsh tone. He hazarded a glance back at the doorway, careful not to let the changeling completely out of his sight. He looked furious. His brows were drawn together and his eyes flashing.

“I found this changeling in Jim’s room,” Kanjigar reported, switching his gaze back to the creature he had pinned against the wall. “I was trying to find out just how early the exchange happened.”

Behind him Merlin huffed out a sigh.

“Put him down,” The wizard said. “That’s Jim, not an imposter.”

“What? But Master Merlin…”

“Don’t Master Merlin me. Put him down now.”

Puzzled but deferring to the wizards judgement he let the changeling drop. It hit the ground and stayed where it was curling in on itself and shaking. It looked positively frightened. He felt the unwelcome pang of sympathy again.

He shook his head trying to focus and figure out what was going on.

Why would Merlin…

There was no way.

“Did you let that changeling in here?” Kanjigar asked horrified. “You knew the whole time.”

That would explain why the wizard had been so careless with him and expected him to take care of himself. Despite appearances, changelings were not planted until they reached mental adulthood and were capable of fending for themselves.

“What? No,” Merlin looked offended.

“Then…”

“Jim is not a changeling. I would not take one of Morgana’s servants into my house lest I wake up with a knife in my back. I’m not a fool!”

“Then what…”

“Jim was a human but now, thanks to the potion I have been working on since I woke, he is a half-troll.”

Kanjigar blinked unable to quite process that sentence.

“What?” He said dumbly. He had never heard of such a thing.

Merlin sighed.

“Walk with me.”

The wizard turned away. Kanjigar hesitated glancing back toward Jim who was now hiding under the blankets. He half turned toward him before glancing in the direction that Merlin had went in.

There was no saying how long Merlin would stick around but now that he knew that the small troll was actually Jim (Even if he was still struggling to believe it.)… The flash of the boy’s scared eyes, his desperate sobs and Kanjigar, the very troll who he had trusted pinned him to the wall…

Kanjigar’s ears pressed down.

He took a step in the direction of the blankets before stopping.

He should give the boy some time to recover before he approached him. Not only that but he needed answers.

Once they were back in the main room, Kanjigar turned to Merlin. His anger at himself for hurting Jim was mixing with his anger and confusion toward Merlin for… whatever he had done. The turbulent emotions set his tusks on edge. He managed to fight down the snarl that was threatening to crawl up his throat, but his voice still came out more sharp than respectful.

“Why would you do that to Jim? What point is there in turning him into a… a half-troll?”

Humans and trolls were not meant time be mixed; changelings were proof of that. Even if they did not die by the sword or succumb to the webs of their own treachery, the magic that was forced into their stone aged them prematurely. They often suffered joint problems and fatigue as a result of hybridized systems –A weakness Kanjigar had learned to exploit when he came into conflict with them. They were doomed the weaknesses of humanity and trollkind while being rejected by both.

What purpose could Merlin possibly have in inflicting such a fate on such an innocent young child?

He drew himself to his full height ready to stare the wizard down until he got answers. Merlin eyed him through his thick brows.

“Because he will be the next Trollhunter,” He said.

Kanjigar stilled.

“What?”

In his shock it felt as if he had taken a step back out of his own body.

If Jim was going to be the next Trollhunter that meant…

Merlin sighed, looking slightly regretful.

“Yes, according to what I saw studying the future, you’re destined to die in the next decade or two and the Amulet will choose James when you’re gone.”

The first thing Kanjigar’s mind latched onto was just how soon that was. A couple decades was hardly the blink of an eye… The next was…

“But he’s just a child…”

Grown adults… great champions even… had crumbled under the weight of the amulet. Tellad-Urr the Terrible had been the most shocking and horrifying example but unfortunately not the only one.

“Then make sure you don’t die soon,” Merlin said. He sighed again. “Look I brought him here to make sure that when the time came he would be ready to take up the mantle.” He gave Kanjigar a look that the troll couldn’t quite interpret. “Perhaps you could start teaching him some combat and other Trollhunter skills. You were saying that younglings need to run around.”

Something welled up in Kanjigar’s chest as he finally managed to push through his shock.

“Yes,” He said, lips curling up slightly from his fangs. He had to take a breath to force down his anger. It didn’t work. “But they also need to have friends and enjoy the freedom that comes with their youth. I’ve already told you that Jim should not be trapped in this cage… in this cave all the time… but…” Kanjigar took another breath, the first hints of a snarl rode on the exhale. “But knowing what the future has in store for him. He needs to have time to just be a child even more. The mantle of Trollhunter is a heavy one. Caring for the wellbeing of many is a great burden. You of all people know that.”

He tried to catch the wizard’s gaze but he refused to meet Kanjigar’s eyes. The flame flickering in his chest kindled brighter. He hadn’t felt this way since he found Draal- back when his son was still just a whelp- cornered up against the edge of the tree line by some idiot younglings who thought terrorizing others was fun and who had not yet realized just how small of a slip it took for one to turn to stone.

“Let me take the boy to Trollmarket,” Kanjigar suggested, still trying to be reasonable and keep some semblance of control over his temper. “He’ll be safe there. He’ll be able to play with other younglings and grow up at a normal pace, then when the time comes for… for him to take up my mantle he’ll have had a chance to properly enjoy life first.”

Kanjigar waited for Merlin to reply. The silence stretched out between them. Kanjigar thought the wizard looked older than usual: tired. His shoulders were slumped and lines of tension traced his forehead.

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no.” Merlin looked up and met the Trollhunter’s eyes finally. Once again his face was unreadable. “James will not be accepted in Trollmarket. If you are looking for a place where he can be safe and happy and carefree… Well I’m sorry to break your delusion but that will not be it.”

Kanjigar growled and open his mouth to argue. The amulet hummed ominously on his chest in response to his emotions. He knew without trying that it was impossible to remove right now.

“Do you really think the other trolls will notice nothing odd about him?”

Kanjigar paused at his words and Merlin seized on that hesitation and continued.

“You yourself thought he was a changeling. Do you think you are the only one who will come to such a conclusion? The only one to treat him harshly because of it?”

Kanjigar flinched. Jim’s scared face as the Trollhunter had pinned him to the wall reared up in his memory again.

“Well?”

Kanjigar turned away, shame curling around his throat.

“I need to go check on Jim. I will think about what you said.”

He left the wizard, before he did something else he would regret, and hurried back to the small room. Jim was nowhere to be seen but Kanjigar could smell his strange new scent.

“Young Jim,” He said hesitantly.

There was no response.

The Trollhunter moved slowly into the room.

“Jim? Are you there? I am sorry about how I acted. That was wrong of me.”

Still no response.

Kanjigar’s ears pricked. There. He could hear harsh breathing.

It seemed he was still in the blanket pile. Kanjigar carefully lifted the thick downy blanket that was on top of the pile.

Jim flinched when the light hit him and curled into himself. Kanjigar released the blanket, not feeling quite right disturbing the boy, and it fell slightly to the side.

Kanjigar sighed. He crouched down and then stayed there for a moment, unsure of how to go forward.

“Young Jim…”

Kanjigar trailed off and ran a hand over one of his horns. This was all his fault. He had crushed the poor boy into a wall. Threatened him! A simple apology was nowhere near sufficient.

“I’m sorry Jim,” he said anyway to the boy’s back. “I thought you were something else, an enemy, but how I treated you was wrong. I won’t do it again. Can you forgive me? Or at least let me check to make sure you are unharmed.”

The boy didn’t respond but Kanjigar saw that one of his ears was turned back toward him. And wasn’t that a change? Kanjigar fought down the sense of unease that arose at the boy’s strange scent and odd features. This wasn’t the time to deal with that. It wasn’t Jim’s fault.

The boy remained quiet. Eventually Kanjigar did the only thing he could think of and sat down on the ground next to him. Both ears twitched in his direction at that but other than shivering Jim still didn’t move.

Kanjigar waited. If there was anything being Trollhunter had taught him it was patience.

An hour passed. Jim began to move more but seemed determined not to leave his spot. Not while Kanjigar was in the room.

The Trollhunter felt the shame curl tighter around his core. If only he had taken a moment longer to assess the situation. If he had done that Merlin might have arrived before he had hurt Jim and this could have been avoided. In the past he might have, but after the incident with Nomura, Kanjigar had become wary. He couldn’t forget how casually she had dropped her act when it no longer suited her or the burn of her blade on his side. He definitely couldn’t forget how heartbroken Draal had been.

He sighed and ran his hand down his face.

It was then he had realized that his enemies would take advantage of anyone close to him. It was then that he had started working alone. He found himself wondering sometimes if it was the right decision. Draal was angrier these days. He had heard that he was getting into more fights. Blinky had suggested it was because he wanted his father’s attention. Kanjigar wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but he had made a decision and needed to stick to it.

Kanjigar wrenched his mind away from that painful line of thought and focused his gaze on the wall across the room. It was fairly plain rock at first glance, lightly textured with regular divots that suggested someone had worked on it with a chisel. If one looked close they would notice that thread thin veins of emerald ran through the darker stone. It made sense that Merlin had chosen this place, Kanjigar mused. The wizard’s magic was green and magic tended to be better enhanced by crystals of similar coloring…

His thoughts were broken off by a quiet scraping to his left, he carefully didn’t look.

He wasn’t quite sure what else to say either. He had already apologized; what else did one say to a child that they treated as a spy?

“Do I really look that different?” Jim asked.

Kanjigar looked at him cautiously out of the corner of his eye, making sure he wasn’t going to bolt, before looking at him fully. It was an odd question. He would have expected Jim to ask about the things Kanjigar had said when he was threatening him instead.

He took a moment to study the boy’s changes.

Like his scent, his appearance was now a mix of human and trollish traits. His skin was stoney. Whether that went all the way or was merely on the surface Kanjigar didn’t know. He didn’t particularly care to find out either. His nose was still relatively human, a little flatter and broader than it had been, but human. His ears were longer and freemoving now but his hands had retained five fingers each. Of course there were a few troll species that had five fingers but it was a rarer trait. (One often associated with changelings…) His hair was courser, but still black. Small tusks just barely poked out between his lips.

“Your eyes are the same,” Kanjigar said after a moment.

The boy jolted and then looked up at him. Indeed the rest of him may have changed but those bright blue eyes were the same.

“The rest of you looks different but they haven’t changed at all.”

“Oh,” Jim said and looked away again.

He looked down at his feet a quiet frown playing across his lips.

“Do you think my Mom would recognize me?” He asked quietly.

Kanjigar felt something his chest tighten.

“I don’t know,” He said softly. As much as he wanted to comfort the child he couldn’t lie to him on this. It would only bring pain in the future.

He paused a thought flickering in his mind.

“Does she not know… Was she not informed of your change?”

He hoped Merlin had discussed this with the boy’s parents beforehand, but… well…. The Wizard had shown that he was careless about such things. A lot of heartache could have been avoided if he had told Kanjigar beforehand…

Perhaps he had thought Kanjigar would try to stop him. (Perhaps he was right.)

Jim drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He pressed his face between them and murmured something that Kanjigar couldn’t quite make out.

“What was that?”

“She wasn’t there,” Jim repeated softly. His voice caught and Kanjigar realized that he was starting to cry. “I went to our house before… when Merlin told me about the potion. I…” He hiccupped and lifted his head a little to wipe at his eyes. “I wanted to see her before… But there were other people there. They said she’d moved… left.”

Jim’s shoulders shook and a slightly louder sob came out of him.

“What if I see her again and she doesn’t know who I am?” He almost wailed. “What if…” He grabbed at his long ears, tugging them down in distress. “What if she’s scared of me or hates me?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What if she thinks I’m a monster?”

Kanjigar reached out and picked him up. He pulled him to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. For a moment Jim struggled but then the small half-troll pressed his head into Kanjigar’s chest and wailed.

It was a lonely, painful sound. Not quite troll or human.

It made Kanjigar’s chest ache.

He rested his chin on Jim’s head and rocked him gently as the boy cried.

Eventually he quieted and then after a little longer he breathing evened out.

He’d fallen asleep, Kanjigar realized.

He shifted him to a slightly better position and then leaned back against the wall tiredly.

What was he going to do?

He had had his hesitations about Jim being in Merlin’s care but after this…

He meant what he said about wanting to take Jim to Trollmarket. Unfortunately Merlin was right: the other trolls would be hesitant to accept Jim. There was some advantage to the fact that he was young. If he could convince the adult trolls that he was not a changeling they would not harm him… Most likely…

Kanjigar’s status as Trollhunter would certainly provide some protection but even if Jim was safe from the adult trolls…

Kanjigar grimaced. The adult trolls wouldn’t be the only problem. In his experience children tended to pick up on their parents’ prejudices. It was possible Jim wouldn’t be accepted among them either.

That was even without getting into ages.

The troll children who were mentally Jim’s age were already over a century. There were differences in how they approached and understood things as a result.

Not to mention he didn’t know if Jim was going to keep aging at a human rate or slow down…

Kanjigar carefully shifted Jim so he had a free hand to rub his forehead.

“What am I to do with you?” He murmured to the sleeping child.

He didn’t know. He really didn’t know.

Jim shifted in his sleep and made a soft whimper in his throat. His brows drew together and he pressed his face harder against Kanjigar before stilling again.

It wasn’t fair, Kanjigar thought. He had wished –pleaded with the amulet even- that his own son Draal wouldn’t have be forced to bear the burden. He had gotten that wish: but at what cost? This boy didn’t deserve to suffer it either.

He ran a hand through Jim’s hair and promised himself two things.

First: He would live as long as possible. He would make sure that Jim was well into adulthood before he took to mantle of Trollhunter. Kanjigar would fight for his own life as if he was fighting for Jim’s.

And second: He would do everything in his power to make sure that Jim was prepared for when his time came.

~~~~

Author Notes:

Yeah Jim is going to have some trauma from that...

Chronologically this chapter takes place soon after Chapter 6. If Barbara had waited even a month to move she might have encountered Jim. (Whether that would have ended well or not is hard to say.) We'll get to see what happened with Jim's visit to his old home in another chapter.

Jim is a little different looking from his cannon half-troll form in this AU due to Merlin having much longer to work on the potion. His troll and human traits are a little better balanced. Main differences include: 5 fingers on both hands, his ears are more like Blinky's in shape than elf-like as they are in cannon, and a slightly increased immunity to the sun (I'm still deciding to what extent). There are some other things that will come up later as well.

Something worth noting is that Jim is in many ways what troll imagine changelings look and smell like. Actual changelings switch from fully troll to fully human, but changelings are not frequently interacted with so images get distorted over time. Kanjigar knows this but it escaped his mind in the moment.

I don't recall seeing Kanjigar interact with any changelings in cannon but I have no reason to believe that he would be an exception to the general attitude toward them.

This is the end of this three part arc. I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter will take place in the present.

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