#Fighting against your own family for those would would one day think themselves above you

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

If you could write a little thing with fem!tav and astarion where tav brings up the topic of having children? Just would love to see what you do with it and how Astarion would react, etc!

@dexpairs-blog asked: Could i request Astarion reacting to tav babying the owlbear cub and Scratch 24/7? Like baby talk, holding them like babies, playing with them and showering them with all their attention as soon as they set foot in the camp

pspsps what if i made it painful lol

Rated: M

He has no particular interest in children. They are bothersome needy creatures that he has no intention of entertaining. Astarion never understood why you like them so much, brats all of them. The time you give such caring words to the tieflings children, helped Mol out of her contact, to let some kid stay at the camp because the kid's mommy was missing.

Astarion didn't see the point but did see how you interacted with children, this gentle side of you with the bright smile he enviously wants only for him.

The Vampire Ascendant does not need to be. He already owns your body and mind.

You currently are watching Scratch run around playing with the kids in the park, your sweet giggles as the two children pretend to be heroes fighting imaginary villains with their fearsome battle dog! The owlbear is in the Crimson Palace enjoying his afternoon nap after being fed. Astarion is usually with him, you notice he has grown closer to it in recent years.

"Little love," You jump when he wraps his arms around you, "Enjoying your toys?" It… Bothered you long ago by what he calls everyone you have a harmless interest in (or interact with) toys, which is a step up from being cattle (not by much). You long ago stopped trying to convince him otherwise.

"The children are enjoying themselves. Scratch is going to sleep well tonight." You speak as kisses are placed on your exposed back, his arms pulling you closer, "Astarion," It is hard not to squirm as he hums with minor acknowledgment and seeks you out physically. Luckily you are hidden under a shaded tree while the children are pretty far from your secluded spot. "Not here." Denying him is impossible, both because he won't be denied and because you need him.

"I promised you a decade in each other's arms," resting his chin on your shoulder with eyes closed, "Yet, here you are outside without me." Hurt. Astarion seeks you out like a shark to blood, he fiends for you in a way you never thought possible.

The ascension changed him, you remind yourself.

"Soon," Tilting your head against his, "Allow me to stay a little longer."

One might think he wants time away from him.

When you pull away, your warmth leaving him, your hand catches his, "Come." You tug for him to follow.

When darkness falls, when the streets fall silent, the taverns are full; he has you close to him. Normally, he would go hunting to bring prey to feed you however tonight he does not leave your side. Laying next to one another in the bed, your eyes looking into his.

The conversation comes up over a petty argument and you still feel the tears on your cheeks.

"A child?"

"Yes, our own." You place his hand on your stomach, "We can make one. Father," The title spoken with some defeat, "Granted me that ability."

Astarion is aware, Kanchelsis gave his blessing for his beast child to be the consort of the Ascendant.

"Now why would you want a little bugger running around here? Isn't babying that dog and owlbear of yours enough?

The day you found that dog, Gods above, you refused to leave the camp until Lae'zel dragged you out. Then the owlbear! Halsin was not a damn help as he also pet the creature too.

Strange, he misses those chaotic days at times… Especially Gale.

"Mine," With a raised eyebrow, "Says the vampire who cuddles with said owlbear when it is having a nightmare." The indignant look he gives you makes you chuckle, "I only brought it up because…" His hand on your stomach slides up your chest until it reaches your face, a sad face. "Family with you… I dream of it. Of us."

He can see them, though the tadpole is long gone, the vampire can peer into your mind. Share thoughts and feelings between the bond of master and spawn— Lovers. The dreams are vivid, he can hear and picture the child that looks like him but shares parts of you too.

A family.

Your mind feels him sneer, the dislike, the fear. The fear of being a terrible father, be like how Cazador was with his family—turning and enslaving them.

"Astarion," Staring up as he moves to pin you down, "Ah!" Biting your neck and drinking from you.

"Ask me for anything and it will be yours," His lips bloodied, "This however I can't."

You are disappointed but you understand Astarion may never be in the right mindset to have a family. Too much trauma that though you tried helping him, it festers in him never to truly heal.

His forehead rests on yours, his fingers intertwined with yours keeping your hands pinned down above your head.

Sex is different this time. Of course, it feels good– Great, but this time he entertained something you hadn't expected him to do. "You... Don't have… Astarion, you don't need to." The way he fucks you is as if he was going to breed a child into you. As if every round is driven with the intention of seeing your stomach swell with his child.

It is a fantasy he entertains, speaking the filthiest words as you cry out for him. Maybe he is trying to make up to you for his rejection, you don't know. You do know after, in the silence of the aftermath, as you play with his messy white curls, his hand rubs your stomach.

A longing that he cannot ever give you this one desire.

[linkspooky]

My Hero Academia, Chapter 370 Thoughts. 

 Admittedly, I was very confused by Shoji’s response to the PLF members legitimate complaints about the discriminations that heteromorphs have suffered with a question that is off topic and tone deaf at the best, and deliberately undermining the legitimate suffering that heteromorphs have endured at the worst. 

But let’s give Shoji the benefit of the doubt as we discuss his argument and point of view underneath the cut. 

However, Shoji’s response reminded me of one of my favorite posts observations made by another tumblr user. @yugiohz on this panel featuring Shigaraki and Deku from the war arc. 

“I love this paneling because it shows the contrast of the character’s world view, deku thinks this conflict only happens on a personal level when shigarki is aware that it’s a systemic one.” 

Shoji’s arguments seem arguably tone deaf and oblivious to both the bigger picture that the PLF commander is getting at. The existence of entities like the creature rejection clan, and the atrocities committed against heteromorphs which is apparently, still so prevelant an issue that fifteen thousand people showed up to the riots. So this issue is not only still relevant, but wide affecting. 

So to respond to all of those legitimate questions with the question of why didn’t thiey think of evacuating the hospital first like the heroes did, and the implication that if they didn’t, they are just as bad as the people they are protesting against is just a little bit ignorant. Or maybe a lot of bit. 

In all fairness, of course even in a war it’s considered a crime a target full of innocent people uninvolved with the conflict as a part of your battle strategy. From Shoji’s perspective, these people are attacking a hospital full of sick people unable to defend themselves which are unrelated to their grievances against society at large. Even in war times it’s considered taboo to attack people who didn’t sign up for the conflict and are also unable to defend themselves, civilians, sick people, the wounded, children.

t’s fair to point out that it’s wrong to target people who aren’t combatants who signed up for the fight, but at the same time if you point that out it’s also fair to point out it’s the heroes who decided to shelter Kurogiri in the first place. The mob isn’t attacking the hospital of a whim, they’re trying to seize an objective to win a battle against the society they think wronged them, and the heroes are the one who decided in the first place  to hide Kurogiri in a hospital full of innocent civliians. It’s the heroes who knew that this hospital would be attacked hence why they posted guards there, but apparently didn’t evaucate the hospital. So, if we’re splitting hairs here, the split hairs still don’t come out in favor of the heroes. 

However, as tone deaf as Shoji’s question comes across, it also resembles a lot of responses his fellow hero students have had whenever they’re face to face with the villains trying to explain how they’ve suffered against hero society. 

When Toga tries to explain herself to Uraraka she’s immediately shut down with this argument. That if she chooses to live as she pleases and threatens with people, then there’s also consequences to that. 

As referenced above, when Deku says that he won’t ever forgive Shigaraki, Shigaraki replies with I won’t forgive any of you people. When Dabi tells Shoto about how he tried to come home, but in the end was shown that his family just moved on without him and that he had no replace to return to Shoto responded with this. 

It’s three flavors of the same response. It frames Toya, Toga, Shigaraki, and Spinner + the Mob’s Choices as a whole like they woke up and one day decided to be a villain. 

LIke, do Toga and the rest have agency and responsibility to their actions? Yes. THey chose to become violent. They chose to fight. They are still people making choices no matter how driven by their own trauma and they are responsible for those choices. However, there’s a difference between an influenced choice, and a choice made entirely of their own free will. 

Here, let me demonstrate. Absoluetly nothing forced Enji to abuse his own family. Enji decided on his own to place his career as a hero above everything else, he decided to arrange a marriage with Rei for the entire purpose of giving birth to a child with a hybrid ice and fire quirk and also ignore his children who didn’t suit that need.

However, Toya had no agency in this choice. He was born into these circumstances. Through no choice of his own, he was born to a father who ignored him the moment his quirk started failing, and a mother who blamed him for the discord of his household for not simply giving up on his quirk training and his attempts to earn his fathers love because she was too afraid to conront her husband. Toya was a helpless child when this happened to him, he’s a fully grown adult now, but when the inciting incident of his trauma happened to him he was as those innocent as those imaginary innocent people that heroes keep parading about as a reason tto not sympathize with the villains. 

Rei had no choice but to marry Enji because her parents pressured her into it, she became a victim of his abuse, but you know who was even more of a victim? The twelve year old helpless child who was born into these circumstances, who was also completely defenseless at the time. Who’s father ignored him, and mother wasn’t strong enough to protect him, whatever Rei suffered, Toya suffered more and at a much younger age. 

Basically every argument the villains make is dismissed with “cool motive, still murder”, which is a completely ignorant argument to make when these villains only started choosing violence as an absolute last resort in the first place. Toga did her absolute best to fit despite her parent’s abuse. Toya tried over and over again to please his father, only to be told to shut up by his family. Tenko wanted to be a hero originally, and was beaten by his father, for having the same dream as Deku. Tenko spent days wandering the streets waiting for just one hero to help him after he lost his family. Spinner locked himself up in his room and just wanted to believe he could become someone important like Stain and make a positive change in the world rather than wasting his life. 

These arguments are in bad faith, because they’re taking a false equivalence. The villains arguments about how hero society is wrong, because they too, are hurting people in their attempts to change hero society. The thing is twice already completely dismantled the argument that the heroes use to shut down the villains. 

The heroes only care about saving the kind of completely innocent victim who cowers in the face of danger and waits to be saved, if they think of fighting back against their circumstances, or *gasp* lash out in pain like some kind of imperfect victim then the heroes give up on trying to save them. It’s important that Jin brings up Toga’s kindness to him, because Toga is one of the people that Hawks wrote off as someone who can’t be saved, while at the same time trying to save Twice because he considered him “A good person.” 

The thing is the moment you start dividing people into categories of who is worthy of being saved, and who isn’t, people are already going to be lost. If the function of heroes are to save people, and they’re not saving a goood chunk of people then they’re not doing their job. Rather than addressing this fact and striving to say more, they just create arguments that are these false equivolencies. Well, this person chose to become violent, so obviously they’re just as bad as their abusers. Well, Dabi chose to kill people in his attempt to discredit Endeavor and expose him as an abuser, so obviously he’s just as bad or even worse. 

There’s a difference betweeen saying “I understand your argument but I believe there are better more peaceful ways of solving this issue” and just shutting down the argument, which is what the hero kids are doing over and over again. And this is a common theme in MHA. THat the light of heroes, and the flawless image of heroes is being used over and over again to hide the corruption in society. Nagant brings it up, Shigaraki brings it up, that over and over again the public only sees the good side of heroes while the corruption of society is ignored. 

Yes, it’s bad to hurt innocent people even if you’re trying to use your violence for a good cause to make a better world. People who have nothing to do with it don’t deserve to get dragged into a conflict. However, there’s also this continued pattern of heroes just dismissing the legitimate criticisms of villains outright, because of the faceless imaginary people that are also being caught up in their rebellion against society. 

This is why Hawks killed Twice. Hawks had to kill Twice, because of the imaginary body count of innocent people who might have been hurt with his quirk. The heroes continually have to put down the heroes in favor of there imaginary innocent people that they might be hurting, Uraraka even says that she has to look at the destruction wrought by the league of villains to stop herself from sympathizing with Toga. 

But once again, this innocent / guilty dichotomy is a made up false dichotomy. When exactly does a person stop being innocent? What actions do they have to perform where they are no longer worthy of sympathy? Quantify it. What is the point of no return? At what exact moment do they stop being a victim and become a villain instead?

Think of the people who joined Spinner’s mob in support of Heteromorph discrimmination? They were innocent victims of what is a thinly veiled allegory for racism. They did absolutely nothing to earn the ire of the people around them. Are they now guilty because they decided to fight back against it? Is their action to riot against the issue, to try to draw attention to their suffering what makes them now guilty? Is the only way to remain innocent to just shut up and endure it, and never fight back no matter what happens to you? 

To return to the argument made at the start, it really does seem like that kids are equating what is a personal conflict with what is happening on a societal wide scale. The perspective of the hero kids is almost like, even in the middle of what is called the first and second war arc, where they are fighting a battle over the way society should be run, that somehow this is just standard hero vs. villain in the conflict. That the good guys are infallible and the bad guys are always violent and they are because they decide to be. However, the villains are fighting back against a society that has wronged them. It’s a difference in perspective that damns any attempts for heroes and villains to understand each other. 

The kids aren’t facing the injustice of society, the kids aren’t fighting for survival, for them this is another hero vs. villain battle. They defeat the bad guys, and the good guys win. 

It’s a conflict fought between two sides who are occupying completely differnt positions of power and privileges'. It’s a personal conflict for the kids, they are fighting against villains who have personally hurt them and all of their friends, SHigaraki is someone who maimed Grant Torino in front of Deku, and led attacks on his friends several times. However, at the same time Shigaraki was wronged by hero society several times, an argument that Deku pretty conveniently ignores because he’s never lived that experience or been subjected to it. He’s allowed to keep it a personal conflict, because he’s not subject to societal rejection the way Shigaraki is. 

Even if the kids think that human life is so sacred that no matter what you can’t take a life, even if you have a legitimate cause like fighting for a better society, the kids refuse to apply their rules fairly. Shoji yells at the crowd for attacking a hospital full of innocents, but what about the death of Twice? If villains are bad and beyond redemption because they have killed, then why is Hawks still allowed to be a hero? If the villains have to think about the people they hurt as a part of their conflict, then why hasn’t a single hero kid even mentioned twice?

This is what I mean by injustice. It’s okay to be disgusted by murder, human life is sacred and should always be protected, murder is a serious crime, but these rules aren’t being applied fairly. Hawks can commit the same murder and compeltely get away with it, because he’s considered one of the good guys. 

The kids aren’t so digusted by any murder that they can’t tolerate any injustice, they’re just repeated the same values that they’ve always been taught, heroes good and villains bad. They are drawing the same line on who is worthy of saving  and who is not worthy.

Which is why this chapter is so sad, it illsutrates that Shoji and Spinner have suffered the same way as being prejdugiced against by hero society, and forced to hide because they are heteromorphs. So, why are they fighting in the first place? If they are both vicrtimized why does one of them have to be the good cictim and the bad victim? If they are both suffering similarily can’t they come to some understanding and work together, rather than fighting against each other? Isn’t it tremednously sad that Shoji had to fight against several heteromorphs who have suffered the same as he as, and defend the society that has outcast him and fored him to wear a mask his entire. Shouldn’t there be a better way then just Shoji putting down the rebellion of fellow heteormoprhs and then society continuing on the same way as it always has? Couldn’t they work together? 

I don’t really have an ending to this post, so I’m going to close out with a quote from Frankenstein which I believe is relevant to this topic at large. 

“You, who call Frankenstein your friend, seem to have a knowledge of my crimes and his misfortunes. But in the detail which he gave you of them he could not sum up the hours and months of misery which I endured wasting in impotent passions. For while I destroyed his hopes, I did not satisfy my own desires. They were for ever ardent and craving; still I desired love and fellowship, and I was still spurned. Was there no injustice in this? Am I to be thought the only criminal, when all humankind sinned against me? Why do you not hate Felix, who drove his friend from his door with contumely? Why do you not execrate the rustic who sought to destroy the saviour of his child? Nay, these are virtuous and immaculate beings! I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on. Even now my blood boils at the recollection of this injustice.” 

[public-trans-it-deactivated20240]

Figured I would make a post of all my various FFXIV OC's.

Warning: There are more than just these 4, those are just the big ones. Also, this is like 5 years' worth of weekly RP with my FC, and we very much leaned into the absurd over-the-top fantasy of the FF series. So, like... boy HOWDY is this gonna be a lot. Edit after finishing writing this draft: it was far more than I thought oh my god I forgot how bullshit all of this was. However I added a clear indicator of where you can skip the most bullshit parts.

(All infoblocks are how the character would describe themselves. Summaries are (mostly) my own words, unless I think its really funny to not do so.)

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I also have redacted a lot of info about other people's characters cause I'm not entirely comfortable sharing all of them here. So the names of other characters, and also my FC's name, are entirely removed. I've also tweaked some of the details slightly, mostly just the timing of certain events, and combining/removing a couple of the T'alia's (yes there used to be more). Also spoilers [ARE NOT IN THIS VERSION, YOUR WELCOME MISHA].

If you don't want what is basically a summary of a four year long RP campaign, you can get the short version by just reading the entries for the four characters listed above.

Name: T'sraetn Slein Race: Miqo'te/Garlean (Mixed race) Clan: Seeker of the Sun Gender: Cis(ish) Woman (She/Her)

T'sraetn was born in the capital city of Garlemald, child of a garlean scientist, Varrick lux Slein, and a miqo'te conscript-engineer, T'alia Raio. Her father was researching the Echo, trying to find ways to replicate its effects with a garlean soul. When the Garlond Ironworks rebelled and fled for Eorzea, T'sraetn's family fled with them, though Varrick was killed in the process, [REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS].

T'sraetn became fascinated by all forms of magic in Eorzea, following the paths of the Arcanist before branching out to other fields. She continued to find stronger and stronger opponents to test her magical prowess against, eventually awakening to the Echo and being recruited to the Scions.

The events of 1.0 through Stormblood happen relatively the same as they do in the game, though T'sraetn went missing after [REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS]. She reappeared once again after the events of Shadowbringers 5.3 (sort of, see below), now sporting several cybernetic augments throughout her body, with all of her limbs being fully cybernetic.

She initially had no issues with her augments, barring a few exceptions. However, after the events of Endwalker, she grew to hate them. She believed these augments were the only thing that allowed her to survive her fight against [REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS]. She eventually underwent a dangerous procedure to remove her augments and replace her limbs with vat-grown cloned organic transplants.

T'sraetns version of the Echo manifests it in a bizarre temporal distortion. Time feels as if it passes differently for her, with her experiencing weeks or months in the span of time that others claim to only experience days. In combat, she experiences her own death over and over again until, eventually, she survives the fight. The way that [REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS] experience [REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS] makes her feel a kinship with them in this regard, and has lead to her developing an unhealthy obsession with both of them.

T'sraetn has grown disillusioned with the life of adventure, and now spend much of her time drinking and reliving [REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS], hoping at some point she will discover her life since that point was just a very long vision, and if she just did something different [REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS].

The rare times she is sober, she spends studying [THIS ENTIRE FUCKING PARAGRAPH REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS HOLY FUCK].

She funds these expeditions by selling her services to the goblins of the Wolves Den, helping them refine and test their designs for human pilots.

(Here she is, Ms. Warrior of Light herself. I do find it hilarious that 'Mech Pilot' is a lore friendly profession to have, so I had to go for it. I technically have two versions of T'sraetn! (Well... 3) One is the version I used in my Free Company's weekly roleplay for about 4 years, who is not actually the Warrior of Light, and the other is, in fact, the Warrior of Light herself. However, everything canon to the FC version is more or less canon to the WoL version. We won't be getting into the third version on a SFW blog. [REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS])

Name: Killer Kweh Race: Unknown Clan: Unknown Gender: Unknown (They/Them)

Killer Kweh is a vigilante who began to harass T'sraetn's FC around the events of late Shadowbringers, keeping tabs on the various villains and scoundrels that the FC let slip away, thinking the power of friendship would be enough to save the day. Together with their chocobo, Wark Warrior, the two would track down and kill those the FC had spared. They eventually began to confront the FC, trying to pressure them into no longer forgiving those who wronged them.

Their identity remains a mystery to this day, and will likely never be discovered, no matter how often the other FC members says things like "T'sraetn the mask doesn't even cover all your hair, and we can clearly still see your tail." or "Can you hide your chocobo's costume somewhere else? We need to clean the stables."

(I kept this glam and now use it for PLD/RDM. Originally I was actually planning to have Killer Kweh be an entirely different character, but the FC kept making jokes about the tail showing, and I decided to roll with it cause having it just be T'sraetn the whole time was FAR funnier tbh, and we needed something light hearted at the time.)

If you don't want to read a whole boatload of FC lore, you should skip all of this. (Scroll down until you see the quest complete)

Name: T'alia Raio Race: Miqo'te Clan: Seeker of the Sun Gender: Cis Woman (She/Her)

The first of the many, many, MANY faces of T'alia, who served as one of the central antagonists for much of the FC's life.

As mentioned above, T'alia was an engineer working in Garlemald before her family attempted to flee alongside the Garlond Ironworks, her husband being killed in the process. Wrought with guilt over his death, T'alia vowed to attempt to continue his research once they arrived in Eorzea, studying the soul and how various things could affect it.

Where her husband turned to the Echo, T'alia instead turned to the void, and to the tempering effect of primals. She made a pact with a voidsent, offering it not her own soul, but the soul of her research subjects, in return for studying its effects on them.

She eventually joined a Free Company, finding them to be perfect test subjects and developing an obsession with helping them grow stronger. She carefully examined and documented the effects on them and their aether after various fights with primals and voidsent, all under the guise of helping them grow stronger.

The idea of the FC needing to grow stronger became more and more compulsive, culminating in her trying to graft the soul of her voidsent into the aether of an injured FC member, an act which was the last straw and resulted in the FC turning on her.

She harbored no ill will against the adventurers, and continued her experiments from a distance, using facilities within abandoned garlean bases to construct various monsters for the free company to "train" against, frequently against their will.

(The FC I was with from 1.0 up to Stormblood Launch had a lot of drama. I originally made T'alia as a way to shop around and play with other FC's. When I joined my current FC, they mentioned not having any real dedicated antagonist for their RPs, and so I decided before the first RP I joined that T'alia was eventually going to make a heel turn, and played her as friendly but also very clearly having an ulterior motive. Also T'alia is still my MCH glam!)

Name: T'alia Raio Kime Race: Disembodied Soul Chimera Clan: Specter Yeah :) Gender: Monster (It/She/He)

T'alia's research into metempsychosis culminated in the preservation of her soul, at the cost of the willing destruction of her own body, obtaining a state not unlike those of the Ascians. She began growing multitudes of clones of herself, experimenting on them, merging them with beast men, and creating terrifying new chimerical bodies with which she continued to 'test the potential' of the FC.

However, these bodies and her soul mixed like water and oil, and she was never able to fully utilize them. While each one was quite powerful on its own, under her control they were exceedingly frail, and she would find her soul being ejected from them long before the point the body itself failed. This eventually forced her to turn back to her original field of engineering, augmenting these bodies with cybernetic enhancements.

Eventually, she invited the FC to one of her most ambitions plans to date, which she referred to as "The Merger", a combination wedding ceremony and business merger between both herself, and another rival of the FC's who also was heavily proficient in the field of engineering. This event was, in truth, an experiment where she splintered the timeline and merged it together again. During one timeline, an FC member was killed and replaced with a cybernetic replica crafted by T'alia and her new wife, while in the other timeline the FC member lived on as normal.

T'alia's plans for all of this were seemingly lost when her corpse was discovered in some ruins, impaled by a chunk of white auracite that kept her from escaping the vessel she was inhabiting. This drove her wife deeper into despair, and the widow blamed the FC for allowing this to happen, becoming a far bigger threat to them in the process.

(It was a running joke in our RPs that T'alia would keep getting called an Ascian, only to respond, "I still don't know what that is..." While she did achieve a similar form, it was elusively through her own research, and she never had any affiliation with the Ascians)

Name: Tali Race: Various Clan: Various Gender: Nonbinary (She/Her)

Shortly after T'alia's death, one of her augmented clones began interacting with the FC. She revealed she was the one who killed the 'real' T'alia, an action she had no choice in taking. Several of this clones augments allowed T'alia to control her remotely, and she had taken control of her body to kill herself. These augments still remained in place, and even with no one controlling them now, they still prevented certain actions, such as revealing what T'alia was planning.

This T'alia clone continued to work alongside the FC, eventually being welcomed with open arms as a full fledged member, with the FC renaming her 'Tali' to differentiate her from her creator.

While Tali already differed significantly from her creator, she felt a deep unease about being compared to her. She took up the gunblade and began to dabble in various shape changing magics in order to further differentiate herself from T'alia, resulting in frequent damage to her body and need for replacements of her various artificial limbs. All the while, unfamiliar memories began to surface in her mind, revealing that the memories of T'alia's own past that she had planted in Tali weren't sticking.

While she was unable to reveal T'alia's plans to the FC, she was more than able to be reckless about leaving around too many maps about where T'alia's various facilities were located, leading the FC on missions to shut them down and uncover more details about T'alia's plans, with Tali quickly piecing the details together and becoming both more distressed and more frantic to get the FC to uncover the rest.

Over the course of these expeditions the FC found T'alia's main base: a facility located in a rift in spacetime filled with a massive number of clones. Thousands of clones of T'alia, as well as hundreds of clones of every single FC member.

This facility housed enough clues for the FC to realize two things: first, that T'alia was being coerced into her actions by some other entity that she had been plotting against, and second, Tali's differences to T'alia came not from her augmentations, but from the the fact that she was never a clone of T'alia at all, but her own daughter T'sraetn, augmented and brainwashed into becoming a pawn for T'alia to use.

(Yes the DPS symbol on the blue background is intentional. It's a joke about me always off-tanking at the time, and being a 'Blue DPS'. The name Tali was actually a typo from an FC member addressing her, but everyone immediately realized it would be a great way to differentiate this other version of T'alia, and so we kept it. Also, we had a running joke in our RP's that Tali's arms just fell right off about once per RP night.)

Name: T'alia Allengray Race: Miqo'te Clan: Seeker of the Sun Gender: Cis Woman (She/Her)

Pouring over T'alia's research notes, T'sraetn and the FC eventually found the source of what T'alia had been pushing them all towards, the entity that had plagued her for her entire life: T'alia.

This other T'alia eventually made her presence known by possessing a shape changing quicksilver construct that the FC had defeated, forming a new body for herself. Taking the old T'alia's role as antagonist (though never posing anywhere near as much a direct threat), she was happy to monologue to the FC, and even gave them a linkpearl to answer any questions they might have.

This other T'alia (who the FC simply refered to by her surname, Allengray) was a copy of herself from a different timeline, who had trapped herself in a perpetual timeloop that lasted from the moment of her birth, to the moment of her death. Her original self became nothing more than a disembodied specter within the loop, forced to observe the same events play out over and over again. Over the course of the more than 5 million years she spent trapped in the loop, she slowly gained the ability to subtly influence the members of her FC, with a far bigger influence on each loops iteration of herself.

In her original timeline, Allengray and the FC had fought a devastatingly powerful primal, Lich. As they began to realize their conventional methods of killing primals would not affect it, they eventually chose to build a temporal cage, crafted from the remains of Alexander. The device would contain one aetheric being, and one mortal being, binding the two together. Lich would be trapped within it, and bound to the lifespan of whoever activated the device. While Allengray was not the one selected to bear that burden, she stole the device in the dead of night and sacrificed herself to it, rather than watch any of her friends suffer. Instead, she was left to be tortured for millions of years, watching Lich kill her friends over and over again while she could do little more than watch, and whisper to each version of herself to beg them to find a way to stop it.

(Another kept glam! Allengray is my BLU glam. I actually introduced her as a palette swapped version of another FC members 'Monster of the Week', which was the quicksilver construct that Allengray possessed. She was a bit of an amnesiac trickster for a bit, as her soul adjusted to her new body.)

Name: T'alia Allengray Lich Race: Primal Clan: Aetheric Parasite Gender: Primal (It/Its)

Eventually, Allengray revealed Lich's true nature. Unlike other primals, Lich did not exist as a body. It was more of a parasite that existed in the lifestream, devouring the souls of those who died, which is why it had been so difficult to find a way to stop. And over the course of hundreds of loops, it had grown and adapted to exist within a person's aether, feeding off of them.

Specifically, that of Allengray, where it had latched itself into and fully consumed her. While the timeloop was still connected to the lifespan of each timeline's T'alia, Lich was free to wreck whatever havoc it wanted on the FC, manipulating the timeline to ensure they would suffer over and over again to amuse itself. Even if they found a way to kill it, which the FC occasionally managed to do, the timeline would still be reset on its death, meaning the most the FC would ever be able to do to it is doom another timeline to be the victim of its wrath.

Moreover, with this timelines T'alia now trapped in white auracite, she could never truly die, allowing Lich to remain in this timeline indefinitely.

This timelines T'alia (which is T'alia Raio, in case you lost track. Very understandable if you did.) still managed to get the last laugh. Through their various interactions, the FC of this timeline had become a force of abominations. Fractured primals, artificial constructs, temporal anomalies, and voidtouched avatars, all untouchable by Lich. A fierce battle ensued, Lich toying with FC with the knowledge that killing it wouldn't stop it, even as it clearly grew frustrated.

In the final moment of the battle, the FC revealed their ace in the hole, one of their enemies who had a far bigger grudge against Lich than anyone in the FC. The wife of this timelines T'alia, holding a recreation of the device that trapped Lich and Allengray in the timeloop in one hand, and the white auracite that held her wifes soul in the other. Binding the device to herself and her wife, the two became banished from this timeline to spend eternity with one another, replacing Lich and Allengray in the loop.

Lich did not have time to make its feelings on this development known, as the FC shredded it apart and destroyed it for good.

(I've always fucking loved the concept behind Lich, because in case it wasn't clear by now, I am ABSOLUTELY FASCINATED by death and how we relate to it, and wish Lich had a bigger role in Final Fantasy (I love you Stranger of Paradise). In XIV in particular I felt it had so much potential as a primal. Plus "Killing the embodiment of death itself" is such a final fantasy ass final boss.)

(Additional fun fact: this timeline is the 72,323nd loop that Lich and Allengray were trapped in. Since I'm going with a dumb quest formatting for this, I'll say first person to correctly guess why I chose that number gets... idk... a trust banner of their character and/or a wallpaper made of them? This post contains all the information an FFXIV player would need to guess why I chose that number.)

Name: Noraliene Haillenarte Race: Elezen Clan: Wildwood Gender: Cis Woman (She/Her)

Despite all appearances, Noraliene is an elezen born to House Haillenarte in Ishgard. A member of House Dzemael dosed her drink with a fantasia during a banquet, and when she awoke the next morning as an Au Ra, she found herself the target of a horrible campaign to undermine House Haillenarte by claiming they are heretics, as well as an attempt to use her as "proof" that Au Ra are companions to dragons and must be purged from the city.

She was exiled by her family and escaped the city the next day, being pursued by several members of the Ishgardian Church seeking to kill her for her supposed heresy. Cold and exhausted, she eventually collapsed in the snow, where she claims she froze to death before being resurrected. In truth, she was rescued before that point by Ysayle, and her blue skin is a result of being tempered by Shiva.

After Ysayle's death, Noraliene took her place and helped lead her followers in reintegrating into Ishgard. She had no desire to return to the place of so many bad memories, however, and decided to join up with T'alia's FC shortly after T'alia revealed her true colors, granting them her aid as the new avatar of Shiva.

Despite her tragic past and icy aesthetic, she actually has a very warm and bubbly personality, eager to share her love of Doman Romance novels with anyone who will listen, and excitedly prying into the love life of anyone who was willing to share. She eventually grew tired of the constant stress and drama of being an adventurer and married another Ishgardian exile, choosing to move far away from Eorzea with her new wife.

(Did I make this character just as an excuse to spam the Diamond Dust emote during RP nights? You can't prove that. She was actually made so that I could join the RP easier when other people wanted to host an RP, instead of trying to bullshit together another reason why the FC was just willing to team up with T'alia again. The Diamond Dust spam was just a bonus. I also have a 26 page screenshot comic about her origin story that I've written out, and just need to actually take the screenshots for, but EFFORT...)

Name: Muddied Glory Race: Au Ra Clan: Raen/Xaela (Mixed race) Gender: Cis Woman (She/Her)

Muddied Glory is the orphan daughter of a Raen and a Xaela who were both killed touring Eorzea while she was just an infant. She was placed into the foster care of a Hellsguard woman, who gave her the name she has now.

At a very young age, Glory was adopted by the Church of Halone, where she became a devoted follower of their doctrine. As she grew, she would eventually find herself blessed by Halone with visions into the lives of those she would grant absolution (Its just the Echo), and very rarely, she will wake up in the morning with no memory of the previous night, the events of her own life falling away so her memory could instead be filled with the knowledge of a killer who must be brought to justice, delivered to her through the eyes of their victim.

Her conviction of faith is never stronger than when she faces on these killers, and from the moment they lock eyes with her, before even a single word is said, they are filled with the terrifying knowledge that she is there to bring them to justice. (This is the usual reaction people have when the woman they killed last night shows up in front of them.)

(Glory is me going "Hey remember that one Sahagin Priest in MSQ? Where we learned what a fully realized Echo was capable of? Yeah we need more of that", with the additional silliness of the character in question having no idea it's happening to her. Once again, I was very excited when [REDACTED FOR MISHA REASONS])

Name: Ifrit's Bride Race: Tempered Clan: Thrall Gender: Seemingly Trans Woman (It/She)

While there has not been a cure until very recently, being tempered has never been a 'one and done' affair. A primal is fully capable of tempering a single person multiple times, corrupting them far beyond the point of recognizability, as seen most commonly in Leviathan's drowned.

Ifrit's Bride is an example of that. It is unknown what rank or purpose she served among the followers of Ifrit, only that it was far more aetherially corrupted than was the norm for the followers of Ifrit.

After plaguing them for years, she was eventually captured by the Brotherhood of Ash where they worked with the immortal flames and the new anti-tempering magics lent to them to attempt to see if the process could be combined with the Brotherhood's Sacred Ash.

(Technically, she wasn't given the name Tempered Lass until after she was cured, so I should have used a different name for the trust banner. But also fuck making another one, I'm almost done with this post. Also I can't do tribal dailies on this character anymore, because I refuse to complete 'Losing One's Tempered' so that I can always keep some Sacred Ash on hand.)

Name: Tempered Lass Race: "Prefer not to disclose" Clan: "Prefer not to disclose" Gender: So Fucking Much (She/It)

The result was... mixed. While they managed to cure the Bride of Ifrit of her tempering, she had no memory of anything prior to the point of being cured, and her body remained warped.

She was given into the care of a Hellsguard woman who gave her a very... on the nose name, and there it was discovered that without regular treatments of the Brotherhood's Sacred Ash, she would once again begin hearing the whispers of Ifrit compelling her. She is also particularly gullible, but it is unclear if that is a result of the process that cured her, or simply a natural character trait for her.

While the Brotherhood of Ash welcomes her with open arms and is happy to provide her with Sacred Ash at no cost, Temmie prefers to try to live in Ul'dah. She is frequently found among the refugees, helping them for far too little coin for what she needs to sustain herself.

(The reason she can't remember anything is cause there is nothing to remember. Despite appearances, Temmie is not an Au Ra, she is a Miqo'te. Specifically, Temmie is a clone of T'sraetn created by T'alia to test the effects of tempering. Also, if it wasn't clear, her and Muddied Glory are foster sisters.)

Name: Gyococo Gyoco Race: Namazu Lalafell Clan: Namazu Dunesfolk Gender: "Depends on how much you are paying." (She/Him)

Gyococo is a lalafell adopted and raised by namazu. Once the Far East started becoming a more popular tourist destination for Eorzeans, she began seeing more and more lalafells, eventually growing curious enough to wish to visit and explore the land her real parents hailed from. At least, that's what he told people.

In truth, Gyococo cared little for pursuing his ancestral culture and just saw what she assumed would be an ignorant and unassuming market she could swindle as a merchant. What she found when she arrived in Ul'dah, however, was a society of cut throats and swindlers worse than any namazu could ever hope to achieve.

After months of barely scraping by, he eventually turned over a new leaf. She befriended an illiterate playwright and now acts as her scribe and editor. While he is far from the rich woman he was hoping to become, she lives comfortably and is happy with where her life is at.

(I don't touch Gyococo much, mostly because the playerbase is really fucking weird about lalafells and really fucking weird about trans women, and the overlap is... not fun, honestly.)

Name: Gaeli Cat Race: Gaelicat Clan: Gaelicat Gender: Gaelicat

Gaelicat.

(Gaelicat.)

[GAELICAT FOR MISHA REASONS]

[sandrockianblues]

Can we get some head cannons for the bandit gang playing uno 💜

Come here, like, approach me- *gets out step stool and kisses your forehead* thank you for asking 🥹💜

Everyone feel free to ask more!!

Playing Uno

(Characters: Logan, Haru, Andy)

First of all, why the heck would the builder think it’s a good idea to play any sort of family friendly game with the bandit boys??

Haru: so incredibly smart that he’s like one of those uni students you hear about that you need to avoid when it comes to specific games to specific majors…except, Sandrock is essentially post-apocalyptic, so it’s just him being well-rounded in the most random shit regarding math or science or both. Literally a god at the game even when he’s not trying. Man knows how to plan and strategize. Knows his opponents like the back of his hand. If he drew a blank card mentioning confessing to his crush, he’ll pass. He’s willing to take the L and draw more cards. Who is he? Logan? He can bounce back no problem. But oop, someone pisses him off? Oh, look at that, their turn has been skipped. The color has been changed. And oop, gotta draw 2, no wait, 4, wait-

Andy: cheeky adorable bastard that cheats like an experienced gambling man. He’s got his own set of Uno cards that he’s slipping into the game and switching out in his hand, playing with whatever card suits his needs next. Of course, Haru notices. But it keeps the game interesting for reasons (I.e. Logan having no idea about it.) He’s here to win and make someone (Logan) cry if he’s lucky. He’s the one that keeps the Reverse train going. He’s the one that has someone (Logan) picking an obscene amount of cards from the draw pile. The only way to get him? Hoping he draws one of the many blank cards (thanks to his added stack) that says “Confess to Crush (Jasmine) -OR- Draw 25”. Gets him every time.

Logan: this mf would win Mario Kart every time if it wasn’t for the existence of blue shells. So, in a normal game, he could very well win. But paired with his genius friend and co-parent, as well as their child, he literally has no chance. Inventor of the “Confess or Draw” card in their game, it’s his only saving grace to having some form of a chance to win. His repeatedly bruised ego and his strive for success keeps him going, he’s no coward. But he’s got a painfully long streak of being the recipient to skipped turns and horribly timed usage of wild cards and witnessed numerous upsetting “Reverse!” cycles before his eyes as he watched on. Has flipped the table one too many times, but WILL stay until the end of the game. Just to make sure. If he draws the blank “Confess or Draw” cards don’t doubt that he’ll literally do whatever it takes to win, including marching right up to the builder and confessing there on the spot because he’ll be damned if he draws 25 more cards after encountering three “Wild Draw 4”- (almost won naturally once, but deadass forgot to shout “Uno!”, no one saw him for three whole days after that incident.)

BONUS-

Rambo: #1 card eater. Haru and Logan once got into a fight with Logan screaming “fuck you!” to him in a moment of intense stress, hopping upon Rambo to ride off when Rambo hacked up something in front of Haru’s feet. A chewed and saliva-slicked “Reverse” card that the bomb maker held up in shock for his friend to see. They were both too stunned to even fight or calm themselves from the hysterical fit it brought on.

Jasmine: it doesn’t matter that she’s good at Uno. No one can win against her. You just can’t. It’s against the rules. Two men and one boy are such softies for her that they can’t imagine letting her lose or having her sit there with a full hand of cards. Like, could Andy really let his future wife sit there as he hits her with a skipped turn? Fuck no. But Jasmine knows they’re letting her win and it’s fine. Because the winner always gets treated to a free meal and she’s not above scheming.

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

Thinking about Atlas (again), and it's really evident just how much the Atlesian culture and methods of teaching their future recruits/huntsmen was pretty much setting them up to fail miserably outside of their typical situations.

The primary one is that the Atlesian mindset is pretty much always done with the idea that Atlas would always support them, that they (the graduates/soldiers/etc.) would always be in a position of power over their enemies, that the grunts and lackies would do the dirty work while the strong and the best of their bunch would deal only with a specific problem.

This only really worked so long as the military was around to clean up the weaker enemies, the strong had a strong leader to direct them, and that Atlas was always the most powerful group on the field. But once they were in any position where none of the above applied, they pretty much fell to pieces. Even not including the RWBY vs Ace Ops fight and the situation against Salem (which admittedly was very out of the ordinary for everyone involved), they were fumbling HARD when it came to evacuating Mantle, because they were in a situation where the enemy was much more varied and stronger than expected, they didn't know how to deal with unexpected variables, and they didn't have the benefit of military grunts being able to clean things up easily. It's telling how much the Ace Ops struggled to gain any kind of ground without the help of Team Remnant.

By contrast, The huntsmen ideal (at least Vale) teaches the idea that you will not always have the advantage. You may very well be vastly outnumbered, outclassed, and have no guarantee of backup. You only have your own skills and your team to rely on, so you better get good with them. While this means that the victories are sometimes pyrrhic, it also meant that those who grew under this learned self-sufficiency, their bonds with their allies strong enough to compensate for lack of numbers, and ultimately made them much hardier against unexpected difficulties.

The rest of Remnant was training to fight against a never-ending tide of powerful beings. Atlas was too busy trying to train to subjugate everyone else they deemed weaker and lesser than themselves, and fell apart when a bigger fish came along.

Yeah this is why I don't get it when people complain that "Atlas is the military, it should be better prepared!". Like....the US military is grostequely overfunded and half of its equipment is overdesigned, aging, or useless cause they're fulfilling contracts with no genuine belief that they and their families will be the ones at risk.

Mantle gets breached on a daily basis AT MINIMUM and yet when Ironwood actually HAS to defend it everyone is left scrambling because no one ever sat down and planned for "hey what if half our nation gets invaded for real" because Mantle didn't matter, better to spend that time and money piling even more redundancies on Atlas and making ourselves richer. It’s all offense, no defense. Ironwood doesn't even know the capacity of his own army because he claims they were "ran ragged trying to save Mantle" and yet they're fighting for Atlas the next day. It's a giant show of force that has never had to actually USE that force, fighting back against a general with millennia of experience.

[wapat]

Trying to understand the modern NDN

I show up to a party that's ahead of me by 3 days. It smells like piss and spilled coolers. There's 6 NDN's in there when I show up. The only source illuminating the space is the light above the oven. All the curtains closed as if trying to hide the shame of what is going on, the speaker so loud its drowning out the thoughts of how life is going for your people. Out of the 6, 4 are passed out. 2 are somewhat coherent- one keeps looking around with a 1000 yard stare, in the deepest part of the eyes you can see the spirit that can't make sense of what's going on. The other is babbling nonsense to the air "no you're crazy... hahaha.... they said they would be back, they said.". I grab the quarter bottle, probably belonged to one of those passed out. I take my first drink of a 4 dayer, because misery loves company.

How does a native cope with active colonialism? You get caught between wanting to fight like hell for what's right, or giving up entirely. Most choose the latter- getting into blind addiction, not wanting to think, not wanting to feel. Mistaking it for warmth and comfort from a harsh, arrogant, ignorant world. When in reality it just makes you numb. Easiest way to cope instead of fighting. I don't discriminate for those fighting addiction, I may not understand exactly what they are going through, but hey- me too. A moment of bliss or blacking out for 3 days feels better than being hurt or angry at the world for even a minute. Because in essence we don't want that for the world right? We want to love. We want to change things. We know what's best. That fight is in us, but that hope can be far from reach. Sometimes when we can't fight the system built to destroy us, we tear down our own brothers and sisters. Mocking them for being able to handle colonialism and actively stepping up, bettering themselves as individuals. It's like we look at their success as our failure. We don't look at it as building capacity within ourselves. Just another fucking way to show colonization is winning.

(Written 2020, crossed out 2023) I remember driving in my hometown, Bella Coola Valley. For work I went up Valley, to Stuix (Stuie on Canadian maps). On the drive I was talking to my fellow cousins (no relation). "Fucking white people" was repeated while driving by occupied houses sitting on unused farmland. The open fields dwarfed the 3 story houses that would put the local band office to shame. "Just sickens me, 2 of these properties are bigger than one of our reserves". "Welcome to tweedsmuir lodge" stands at the entrance of my ancestral inheritance. Some of these families up valley have been here for generations. Like for sure they oppressed mine kind of thing. Sure no one is at fault today. But they get to enjoy the spoils of what has happened? Fucking pricks. At the most there are 4 families living in one household on my reserve while there are fields of unused land. What are they doing to alleviate the injustices of past mistakes? Maybe once they do that I'll stop saying "fucking white people". Until then I have a right to my anger, my hatred, my hurt.

(2023) No. There is a better way to move forward than complete hatred- A reasonable amount of anger is a given. Healing takes both sides, and creator knows we are trying to show up. Against all odds, we are trying ❤️

-Wapat (flowers in his hands)

[ladymorghul]

What are your thoughts on Alicent and Rhaenyra meeting on dragonstone?

Personally, I’m worried. A few months ago some delulu (you know who) people were whispering about a video from HBO where they discuss Alicent possibly defecting to Team Black. Some earlier rumors were saying Alicent would throw Aemond (and the entirety of Team Green) under the bus for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness.

I just don’t see how the meeting could go without Alicent being taken hostage and eventually being converted to Team Black. Especially with how Ryan and Sara want her to be lovable, well anyone associated with Rhaenyra is loved.

The show and everyone involved is so desperate to make Alicent seem like an unloving mother, that she would actually sacrifice her kids for Rhaenyra.

i think.... i think it's all stupid to be honest.

i think that whatever they do, it will be to make alicent regretful of everything and make it look like none of her decisions are hers and she doesn't actually have any motivations or ambitions of her own beyond rhaenyra, and that rhaenyra will be this merciful martyr type of character and that they will want to go back to each other even when they both lose family members to the war.

i can see the meeting being about trying to establish peace again but how it won't happen because ryan and olivia said that it is out of their hands because of their 'testosterone filled children' who want to fight.

which is... y know... silly.. because whoever those children are their parents helped mold them. it's like 'oh no i told my son that his and his brothers life will be in danger if rhaenyra comes into power' 'oh no aemond had his eye taken by rhaenyra's son' 'rhaenyra you will make a fine queen' '*next day* aegon get up we're crowning your ass' 'no aegon no why'd you kill rhaenyra :/'

i feel like by the end of the show alicent will be so unrecognizable with her book counterpart, who had way more agency and will, and i think it's so....... unrealistic and nonsensical for these women to lose sons and grandsons and whatnot and still care even a tiny little bit about each other. also... the lack of agency that the writers support. alicent is NOT a villain for caring about her family above rhaenyra and snubbing rhaenyra's claim to the throne. many men do it, none of them are called villains. rhaenyra is NOT a villain for fighting back against this. like we don't need this smokeshow of 'oh god i accidentally started a war. whatever will i do.'

their friendship was weak af and almost entirely onsided, there's no foundation for this kind of emotional depth on this level. they are just entirely a product of the writers will that dooesn't just affect the characters themselves but how the story goes too. it is.......subpar. there is not one person that can convince me that this constant neverending push for rhaen*cent made this show more interesting. anything past episode 7 is such a joke.

so yeah... about dragonstone. i think it will be alicent trying to see if there's still a chance for peace but i also think that's stupid because alicent should know better by that point. however since the writers' are taking unrealistic approaches of course rhaenrya might also want it and then be like 'welp but we can't because we can't control our very bad sons which are actually just the greens sons because of course rhaenyra's sons are angels'

A few months ago some delulu (you know who) people were whispering about a video from HBO where they discuss Alicent possibly defecting to Team Black. Some earlier rumors were saying Alicent would throw Aemond (and the entirety of Team Green) under the bus for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness.

all i can say is that this is bad writing, on par with got s8. i would say i can't see it happening at all if i had any trust in the writers.

The show and everyone involved is so desperate to make Alicent seem like an unloving mother, that she would actually sacrifice her kids for Rhaenyra.

remember the alicent poisoning aegon theory? because i remember. and i fully think they're capable of doing it. many rhaenicent shippers love that because they fully believe that alicent's children and entire family is what stands in the way and rhaenyra's love.

[theriverperson]

Every Year a Knife to the Heart [Vignette]

(Content warnings in tags, this gets dark.)

They had always loved the way Galene’s curls seemed to dance in the sun, they played with its light and bounced softly when she spun around and pulled CHARON into her arms. Embracing her in return, they laughed and basked in their love for each other. When her soft voice spoke, they damn near fell over from shock at the words from her mouth.

“Oh, love, I can hardly believe it! We’re going to have a baby!”

What?!

FLICKER

She was not showing yet, and yet they looked forward to each passing day hoping she would. Skeletons rarely showed such physical signs of pregnancy as the extended belly humans did and they were looking forward to something about this child that they could touch.

Gods help them she was so beautiful.

Even when she was concerned. “I’m worried about these rumors going around about some sort of war against all of monsterkind,” she said as she rested her head against their chest.

“Hush, beloved,” they answered, rubbing her back in small circles. “There is no way anyone can fight all of monsterkind.”

There was no way. Truly. Outrageous rumors.

FLICKER

As they watched the ships approaching from the sea they found they really did not enjoy being wrong.

The necropolis was scrambling, with children and noncombative monsters hurrying underground to the crypts behind the traps. The priests and priestesses had insisted on staying above to defend the temple. May every god and ancestor they have watch over them.

They pleaded silently, their arms around their beloved. Soteria, raise your shielding hand to protect us. Hecate, defend your people, who stand fighting for their lives. Zeus. Athena. Apollo. Artemis, if you care for nothing else then care for our unborn child and the children hiding below.

The few human adults, save for their own wonderful Galene who was with child, had decided to stay above and fight with the monsters they called family.

Hera. Please. If nothing else then keep her safe. At my own expense if you must.

When they released her, their beloved brushed her hand along their skull for a wordless moment before taking a step back to grab a shield. Face stern and confident, she held it out to them.

“My love,” she said, “it is an ancient custom, and I am your wife rather than your mother, but you are ancient and this battle is important. More than any I think we will ever face again. So…”

And they knew in their SOUL what she was saying.

“With it or in it,” they finished for her, holding the shield to their breast and bowing their head reverently to her, their own, personal, goddess. They would defend their people and the innocent lives here and return to her carrying that shield or they would fall and return to her carried inside of it but they would not flee like a coward. Not when so many lives were on the line.

They turned away and looked up to Necromancer Eleni.

FLICKER

Slumped backwards against rubble that had, hours earlier, been one of many buildings in the necropolis, they could only feel exhaustion.

The invaders had apparently attacked necropoli before. They knew, somehow, that targeting their Necromancer was the easiest way to break the organization and focus of the defending monsters, and when Eleni had gone down their confidence had gone with her.

It had been a slaughter. They'd only just managed to beat the last of them back in time to save a handful of those that had hidden away. Fewer still were those that remained and had fought.

And CHARON felt such guilt, for having tried to avoid killing. They were not the only one, many of the monsters could not bring themselves to actual lethal harm even in defense of their own life or those around them. They had only done what they could, healing as many as possible and trying to disable, to restrict the invaders. To get them, simply, to leave.

If it had only been so easy.

Was dear, sweet Galene even still...?

Ah! Yes there! Bounding towards them, a likely now-orphaned child of one of their neighbors right behind her, their dearest Galene came running. Tears in her eyes.

Pain. Surprise. Shock. A stagger. A spear, penetrating her chest.

One of those they had thought defeated had not been, completely.

A fall.

Words.

Words that would haunt them for the rest of their days, even half-choked and accented by blood-filled coughs as they were.

"Death to monsters! And to those who would whelp them!"

The human spearman staggered back and fell once more against the rock they'd been leaning on and as Galene fell forwards they swore time itself stood entirely still, for one brief second.

Human forgotten, potentially-orphaned onlooking child forgotten, people and city forgotten, CHARON moved with a speed they had not thought they could still manage and caught her. They cradled her in their arms.

Scrambled.

As much healing as they had left in them.

Why wasn't it working?

Why wasn't it working!?

Whywasn'titworking?Why?Why?Whywhywhywhywhy?

As if there was nothing-

They clutched her against them, grip tight, and keened with their sorrow.

There was nothing left to save. The spear had killed her. Pierced her heart.

They would never be able to estimate, to remember, how long they had spent holding their dead beloved. Their unborn child. Lost entirely to their own grief.

They would always remember what they had done next. Maddened entirely with fury and anguish and desperation to ensure the one that did this would pay for the human spearman had coughed and that one infuriating sound became their world's entire focus.

The ferryman's pole they'd summoned had hardly even registered to them. Neither had the sharpened bone scythe-blade that they'd summoned with it. If nothing else they would be resting assured that there was not enough left of this human for their soul to make it to the Underworld.

Maddened and lost, CHARON swung-

AND RIVER AWOKE

Still rattling, they'd awoken, SOUL filled with grief and mourning as if it had been only hours ago that they'd lost dear Galene and not near a thousand years. The bed they lay in felt entirely too lonely.

[kuhatoarchive]

this was it — they stood at the precipice of the world's end. meteor swarmed overhead, sephiroth awaited them at the planets core, countless lives have been lost along the way... and yet, where one would expect trepidation and fear? cloud found peace. there was something so freeing about only having two possible outcomes. either they made it, or they didn't. but it was this that mattered, being able to stand face to face with the possible destruction of all and still having it in him to say no, to refuse to accept it, knowing that he would fight no matter what.

it took him too long to see it, to really get it... but cloud? he wanted to live. he wanted to protect those he cared so much for, to one day pay back all the love and sacrifices made for him that got him to where he was now.

he was cloud strife. he wasn't a great mercenary. he was never SOLDIER. he'd never been that great of a person, really, if you asked him. he'd always just been... himself.

and that was enough.

this time? he does not hesitate to hold her hand. long past was the time of his pride and shame holding him back - the eyes that look into tifa's? gratitude incarnate. maybe they never really knew each other before life threw them on these train tracks, strangers to both themselves and each other...

but cloud wouldn't change a thing now.

"thank you. for everything. for never giving up on me."

best read while listening to "together" by nine inch nails /jk

  unprompted.   ♡  * always accepting !  @vctlan.

   premonitions—vague hunches they were—had never denied her, even if she postponed their acknowledgement. but today, sitting here, the air shy from lukewarm and the night sky star-littered, she feels a stab of mortification like a thrill that courses old pathways within her: she can’t imagine the end, whichever outcome that may be, and from it stems a numbness she could have mistaken for peace in any other situation. 

   everything, even herself, feels up in the air, the same way the highwind looms over. placid. waiting.

   tifa wonders how she doesn’t gasp or retch or sob as her body struggles to contain the paradoxical truth. that, as it stands, they are as alive as they are dead. she holds the feeling against herself, keeping it there, beating; this is life. this is proof that she has come this far, that the memories were worth it, that the stars are watching how hard they have fought, and will still. it’s the most fear she has ever felt, and she’s glad she survived to be able to. 

   above all, she’s glad cloud is here. if some don’t return, if none of them do, she thinks she can bear anything having him beside, holding onto the hand that reaches for hers. she feels every bit of herself gather at the touch, half-afraid she is imagining it. no… gone is the time of mirages. his gratitude is true and his own and it holds her in place, thinking, there isn’t a world where he’s worth giving up on.

   his words set her free, somehow. their simplicity and earnestness. the steady hold of his gaze and the sureness of his grasp. it fits into the broad scheme of her consciousness like a tessellate, safekept to invoke before the final battle along the images of her family, nibelheim and its townsfolk, aerith, their crew, all the people she met in her time at sector 7 or her travels. a constellation.

   “...it’s because you never stopped fighting your way back.” to us. to me. it’s not hiding if she knows he gets her meaning by now. it’s tucked, too, in the creasing of her eyes, a smile forming. “after all that has happened… there’s still fight in you. it... makes me give it my all, too. i should thank you for that, leader.” another tifa might have figured her sigh would be a prelude to tears. instead, she chuckles, a small, brief sound to accompany her attempt at lightheartedness. 

   another hand rises to cup the one she holds, placing it atop his. her breathing is different now. quiet. her mind oscillates between reality and dream. hope, perhaps. “...we’ll be okay.” 

   against the beginning and end, in whatever order they may come.

[diamndbrn]

✉    (  @thuganomxcs​  )   :  He slowly takes a piece of folded paper from his pocket and begins reading its contents before their priest, friends, and family in the chapel on their special day. “Aly, I wasn’t much before I met you and I think the world knew that too. I wasn’t heading in no particular direction, just fighting, drinking, and gambling. There was a time in my life when I wanted to just give up on school and probably live out on the streets. That was until I met you. I’m not going to say it was love at first sight but you were definitely a person that catches everyone’s attention. You weren’t afraid of me..hell you weren’t even intimidated. If I didn’t know better I’d think you’d just pick me up single-handedly and throw me against the wall.” It was a rather ‘obvious’ lie that those new friends that arrived in Yusuke’s life during the more mundane days could help but laugh. Though the ones that’s known him longer figured Yusuke probably had it coming. (and yes we can say she actually did it cause strength). Still, that’s when you seem so damn beautiful to me. You were the hottest woman at the university and the losers just threw themselves at you but you really had to time to waste with any of ‘em. Before I go too damn deep into our school life I just want to say, the day I realized my feelings for you..and you returned them..well it was the day I finally started livin’ again. It felt like waking up after that ‘coma’ years ago, with a new lease on life I promise to make you HALF as happy as you make me. I want t’ make this promise in front of our family and friends that I will love you, always love you and listen and support you in all things. I can’t stop saying this but I really am the luckiest man in the world and I love you so friggin’ much Glamazon. Thanks for showing me that life can be so freaking beautiful because that’s how it is whenever you’re with me.”

you  could  feel  it    :    love's  warmth  radiating  throughout  the  venue    ,    emitting  from  your  guests  ,  radiating  from  your  fiance    .    you  never  thought  you'd  be  standing  here    ,    holding  a  bouquet  of  royal  blue  and  white  flowers  and  draped  in  your  very  own  beautiful  wedding  dress  that  took  what  felt  like  ages  to  make    .    under  the  veil    ,    crown  tilts  and  eyes  come  to  a  close    :    all  you  wanted  was  to  just  focus  on  yusuke     ———    not  just  his  face    ,    not  his  body    ,    but  his  soul    .    the  both  of  you  were  joining  as  one  today  in  this  venue    ,    and  everybody  was  there  to  witness  it    .

one  eye  opens  upon  hearing  the  sound  of  a  piece  of  paper  being  unfolded    ;    it  was  when  he  started  reading  that  you  were  at  full  attention    :    you've  known  yusuke  to  be  sappy  at  times    ,    but  this  was  more  than  just  cute  ,  affectionate  thoughts  being  verbalized   ———    this  was  how  he  actually  felt    ,    you're  listening  to  yusuke  at  his  core  and  what  he  felt  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart    .    to  see  him  so  open  brought  tears  to  your  eyes  (  it  was  a  great  thing  that  the  veil  could  disrupt  sight  of  that    )    .    

with  your  hand  over  your  mouth  you  withhold  the  urge  to  start  bawling  in  front  of  everyone    :    he  meant  that  with  his  entire  heart  and  spoke  with  such  confidence    .    you  loved  him  ,  you  will  continue  to  love  him    ,    and  will  always  love  him    .    you  could  understand  him    ,  in  some  ways  you  could  relate  to  him  ,    and  thank  goodness  the  two  of  you  crossed  paths  on  campus  that  first  day  because  you'd  not  know  what  your  soulmate  looked  like  if  you  hadn't.  

                     ❛    yusuke    .    .    .    ❜  your  voice  comes  out  cracked    ,    tone  slightly  above  a  whisper    .    you  could  hear  random  tinges  of  aahs  and  oohs  from  the  guests  and  wedding  party  (    bridesmaids  ,  predominately    )    alike  .    growing  weak    ,    you  fight  to  maintain  your  composure  and  speak  through  the  cascading  tears  and  let  the  words  flow  from  your  constricted  throat  .    ❛    I    .    .    .    I  never  thought    .    .    .    we'd  be  standin'  here    ,    about  to  be  married    .    I  never    .    .    .    saw  myself  to  be  with  anyone    ,    and  I  would  have  been  okay  with  bein'  alone  .    .    .    but  then  we  met    ,    we  became  close    ,    we  became  inseparable    .  it  went  from  like  to  love  throughout  time     ————    I  fell  in  love  with  ya'passion  ,  ya'resilience  ,  ya'confidence    .    ya'make  me  so  happy  and  I  feel  so  alive    .    ya'support  my  dreams    ,    never  stopped  standin'  by  my  side    .    I  love  ya'more  than  words  can  explain  and  .    .    .    ❜      for  a  second    ,    you  stop  to  exhale  through  the  tears    ,    to  catch  yourself  before  speaking  again    ,      ❛    .    .    .    and  I  will  be  more  than  happy  to  take  ya'last  name    .    no  matter  what    ,    yusuke    ,    ya'always  got  me    .      ❜          

answered  ask.     →     unprompted  ,  alyssa and yusuke’s wedding!      

[kneedeepincynade]

Today I did a writing exercise, the timeline is the tno one,the one in wich zhadanov experiments are successful and he triumph over the third reich,more context at the bottom of the second half the story will be divided in 2

Zhadanov walked trough the remains of what was once a battlefield,his footsteps leaving a trail in the wet mud,his bodyguards in their heavy armor where leaving a much more consistent trail,one deep enough to be seeded,maybe some poppy seeds would have found their way in and nourished by the rotting corpses of the ss would have flourished. The group arrived in one of the trenches and approached a group of soldiers,their plasma rifle glowing bright over thier white armor in stark contrast with the night above,with the soldiers there was a couple of ss prisoners,that by thier look where probably starving. "This are the last ones?" Zhadanov asked while looking at the two prosioners,the first ss must have been barely 18 and the second one well over 50 "yes sir,the last nazis of the world,in their last trench" a soldier confirmed while looking at the young man "the others are either dead or laid their weapons the day before,this two and their last group was trying to blow us up with a nuclear bomb,but instead almost wiped themselves with a failed babajaga core test♧" added the leader of the squad. Zhadanov slowly kneeled until he was face to face to the old man "gute morge her Müler" Zhadanov said in his gutted German "I speak your rotten language Slav,don't butcher my own" said the old man with all the rage his frail and starved body could manage. "Good good,so how does it feel to know you lasted longer than the entire Pacific front? You must be pretty proud of yourself" the great leader said taunting the ss "good,at least I know I can put up a fight with your man's in shiny armor,unlike those Japanese cowards" "but even the legendary her Müler must kneal in the end,and you where lucky,Himler got it worse" zhadanov said while looking at the corpse of Himler near them,the corpse had a big hole center mass and was covered in mud and in the piss of various soldiers who wanted to deface the dead leader. "Your people are worse than the Mongols and you are worse than the Khan of old,your monstrous horde have ravaged europa as a whole!" The young one exclaimed in a burst of hate,his russian was not perfect but it was undestandable,before the old man could shut him, zhadanov moved his attention toward him "you think so little one? We have done nothing to you that you have not done to our people,in fact,we have been far more merciful,your people ravaged our glorious union,killed countless milions and divided our kin putting brother against brother,and this is not speaking about what your people did here in the orderstad" the great leader replied to the boy,his tone was not angry but firm "leave the little one alone,he is salty because his family was in Munich when you charred the city from orbit" the old man said before spitting at his side. "Mine was in Minsk." the unit leader said whit a voice full of spite,zhadanov firmly put his hand on the soldier plasma rifle before he could do anything to the young ss or his older colleague "calm yourself down,they have the right to a fair trial" the great leader said in a warmer tone "give me a cynide pill and let's get over with this shit,I will not stand a sham trial" the old ss said "I can do better" Zhadanov said while extracting his personal plasma pistol and aiming it at the head of the old man "for the supposed master race you die no different" Zhadanov remarked while a grin formed on his face "look at your technology! How could this be a fair fight!" The young man erupted again "it is not,war is not fair" the great leader replied while shooting the old man in the head,giving him peace,the young man stared with his eyes wide open at the headless corpse "war is unfair,life is unfair,the winner takes it all and the looser die,this are the basis of your rotten ideology, and what has this brought to you? Ruin,Germany is in ruin,burgundy is in ruin and so is most of the world,your Reich and his allies have been a scourge to the world" Zhadanov stared the young ss in the eyes while he talked,making sure to deliver the point,and then,before the ss could reply.

[samcarter34]

You know, thinking about what Asmodeus said about the Pantheon being his siblings, and how mortals must have done something to the Prime Deities because why else would they have turned on their own family...

The Prime Deities probably loved the Betrayers once, maybe they even still do. And they turned on them, their kin, to save Exandria and its people. They loved Exandria and the peoples of it so much that they fought and exiled their own family that they’ve known since, permanently destroying any possibility of there ever being a reconciliation.

All for a world they loved. A world they once all loved.

[c-is-for-circinate]

Wait, isn't "anti" stuff more like "anti-pedophilia" and stuff? Like, you have a point about anti-porn attitudes, but from what I've heard just "anti" on its own means against stuff like kid porn and incest porn and legitimately f*cked up sh*t like that.

Okay!  So this, I think, is actually a great example of what I was talking about, and a really useful thing to understand.  (CW rape, child abuse, etc)

Smarter people than me have written much better essays about why policing thoughtcrimes is a bad road to go down, and I will probably reblog some of them next time they cross my dash for more context.  What I want to talk about is the trigger mechanism, the ‘oh, this looks like danger!!!’ immune response in how we look at different kinds of porn, and how that applies to anti culture.

Here’s the thing: I am anti-pedophilia.  I think that, for most people, that’s a stance that largely goes without saying!  Adults who prey on children are bad.  I’m also against incest; relatives who prey on their family members are bad.  Above all I oppose rape.  Sexual predation of any kind is bad.  In fact, I’d say that’s the most important item on the list.  There is plenty of room to argue about where the lines are between ‘adult’ and ‘child’ and how teenagers fit in the middle, and there’s plenty of room to get historical about the lines between ethically terrible incest, distasteful-but-bearable “aristocratic inbreeding” between distant cousins, and the kind of consanguinity that tends to develop in a small town where everyone’s vaguely related to everyone else by now anyway.  The core of the issue is consent, and it has always been consent.  Pedophilia and incest are horrific because they are rape scenarios where the abuser has far more power and their victim far fewer resources to cope, both practically and emotionally; because harm to children is, to us as a culture, worse than harm to adults, for a lot of very valid reasons; and because they constitute betrayal of trust the victim should have been able to put in their abuser as well as rape--but they are all rape scenarios, and that’s why they’re awful. 

These things are bad.  It is good for us to have a social immune response system that recognizes these things when they’re happening and insists we step in.  That is a good thing to develop!  It helps us, as a society.  It can help the people being victimized.  It’s the same reason educators and childcare workers in the US are all mandated reporters, why we do background checks on people working near kids.  These things happen, and they’re terrible, and it’s good that we try to be aware and prepared for them.  (Though obviously studies show we’re a lot less good at protecting the vulnerable than we’d like to pretend we are.)

The question is: why does that same social immune response trigger, and trigger so angrily, in response to fiction?

Anti culture is fundamentally an expression of that social immune response.  Specifically, it’s that social immune response when it is set off by a situation that, while it has some similarities to the very bad real-life crime of sexual predation including pedophilia and incest, is in and of itself harmless.

If you’re instinct is to flare up in anger or dismissiveness because I’m calling these things harmless, I want to ask you to just take a deep breath and bear with me for a bit longer.  What you’re feeling right now is an allergic reaction.

Humans tell and read and listen to stories about “legitimately fucked up shit” all the time.  It’s part of the human condition.  It’s part of how we process those things happening, not just to use, but to other people in the world around us.  It’s part of how we process completely unrelated fucked-up shit, playing with fears and furies and insecurities that we all have, through so may layers of fiction that we don’t even recognize them any more, playing with power dynamics in metaphor and making characters suffer for fun.  Aside from the fact that literally all stories do this to some extent or another; aside from the fact that drawing lines between ‘ok that’s good storytelling’ and ‘that’s too fucked-up to write about’ is arbitrary, subjective, and dangerous in its own right; aside from all of that, these stories are stories.  All of them. 

Even the ones about rape, about incest, about pedophilia.  They’re words on a page.  No real children were harmed, touched, or even glanced at in the making of this work of fiction.  This story, pornographic though it may be, is part of a conversation between consenting adults.  (And if a teenager lies about their age to consent, that is a different problem altogether.)

Stories in and of themselves, no matter what they’re about, are no more dangerous than a crate full of oranges.  Which is to say: utterly harmless, unless all you have to eat is oranges, all day every day, and you find yourself dying slowly of nutrient deficiency--which is why representation matters.  Or unless someone wields one deliberately, violently, as a tool to cause harm, and someone gets acid in their eye--which is the fault of the person holding the orange. And unless you happen to be allergic to citrus.

The key here is this twofold understanding:  First, the thing that hurts you can also have value to others.  Real, legitimate value.  Whether you’ve undergone trauma and certain story elements are straight-up PTSD triggers or you just don’t like orange juice, that story, those tropes, that crate of oranges may be somewhere between icky and fundamentally abhorrent--but we understand that that is still your reaction.  Even if you don’t understand how anybody could ever enjoy it; even if every single person you surround yourself with is as sensitive and disgusted and itchy about this thing that makes your eyes hurt and your throat stop working as you; that doesn’t make it true for everyone.  That doesn’t make oranges poisonous.  No real children were involved in the writing of this story.  It is words on a page.

But, secondly: the thing that has value to others can also hurt you.  Just because a story isn’t inherently poison doesn’t mean it can’t cause you, personally, pain.  That’s what a PTSD trigger is: an allergic reaction, psychological anaphylaxis, a brain that’s trying so hard to protect its own from a threat that isn’t actually present (but was once, and the brain is trained to respond) that it causes far more harm and misery than the trigger itself possibly could.  And no, it’s not just people with PTSD who sometimes get hurt by stories.  There are many, many ways a story can poke the part of your brain that says, this is Bad, I don’t like this, I don’t want to be here.  The story is still, always, every time, pixels on a screen and ink on paper.  The story causes no physical harm.  But it can poke your brain into misery, it can stir up your emotions, it can make you want to cringe and run away.  It can make you want to scream and fight and go after the author who brought this thing into existence.  It can make you hurt.

This is an allergic reaction.  This is your brain and body, your reflexes and instincts, trying to protect you from something that isn’t really happening.  And just like a literal allergic reaction, it can do actual harm to you if it gets set off.  This is real.  The fact that stories can upset you to the point of pain and mental/emotional injury is real, even though it’s coming from your own brain and not the story itself.  There are stories you shouldn’t read.  There are stories I shouldn’t read, regret reading, will never read, because they hurt me.  That doesn’t mean they’re the same stories that would hurt you.  That doesn’t mean they don’t have value.

And, finally:

If getting upset about stories is fundamentally an individual person’s allergic reaction, their brain freaking out and firing off painful survival instincts in the face of a thing that isn’t, in and of itself, a threat?  Then the anti movement is a cultural allergic reaction.

Fandom as a whole has a pretty active immune system, which doesn’t mean we have a good immune system.  We try very hard to be aware of all the viruses and -isms and abuse and manipulation and cruelty, both systematic and individual, that exists around and within our community.  We’re primed and ready to shout about things at all times.  The anti movement is that system, that culture, screaming and shouting and fighting at a harmless thing on a grand scale.  It wants to stop that thing, that scary awful thing that trips all of its well-primed danger sensors, at all costs.  It’ll swell up and block off our airways (our archives) if it has to.  It’ll turn on the body it came from.  It’s scared and protective and trying to fight, and it’s ready to fight and destroy itself.

Luckily, fans and fanfic and fandom and fan culture are a lot bigger and older than they often get credit for, and it’s not like these cultural allergies are anything new.  We could talk about shippers and slashers in the X-Files fandom in the 90s.  We could talk about the birth of fandom in the days of Star Trek.  We could talk about censorship and book burning going back centuries.  We survived that and we’ll survive this, too.

But god, does the anti movement my throat and eyes itch.  Man is it irritating, and sometimes a little suffocating, to realize how many stories just aren’t getting told out of fear of what the antis will say.  And that’s the real danger, I think.  What are we losing that would have so much value to someone?  What are we missing out?

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Dangerous Dick Grayson headcannons please?

i’m a little hazy from all the timber week writing but i hope these are to your liking babe

dick's the one who started the gotham's habit of looking upwarda. previously, a low level mobster or thug would dash into a building, or corner themselves into presumed safety, or just believe they'd managed to twist and turn around the city enough to lose any vigilantes on their tail, all the while checking wildly around themselves to ensure they weren’t followed. it's easy for the gcpd to storm into a building, guns up and whipping them left and right like madmen, making sure to check every crevice and hidden corner to find who they're pursuing. but none of them ever thought to look up, which is where dick his every time, without fail. you don't forget the first time a whirlwind of bright colours, brighter laughter, and a mean right hook descends on you from above.

they say that every performance has a bit of truth to it, a hint of the actor shining through the character, but that small pearl of honesty was surrounded by a bed of lies that created the show. one performance dick perfected was his poker face, unreadable when he wants it to be, perfectly and falsely clear when he decides to make it so. it's fun in a relatively low-stakes game with his family, but undercover operations are much more lively when some pretty little thing interrupts high stakes poker games and cleans everyone out. playing for money is all well and good, but it's when people start betting bits and pieces of information, of contacts, of blueprints, of plans, that the job starts getting interesting. dick locks his poker face neatly into place and completes the mission, neatly patting down the urge to laugh.

he's more than famous for his acrobatic skills, but dick's hand-to-hand prowess is the best sort of unnoticed. the sort that's been forged and shaped by batman, tempered by shrike, honed by the justice league, fine-tuned by metahumans on the group of young gods he calls the teen titans. dick's fast, is the thing, and when a relatively slim and short guy starts going up against brawlers three times his size, he learns real quick how to use his speed to his advantage, how to shift his balance to always come out on top. (birds fight differently than bats, dick says, and though they may not show it, his younger siblings and hanging off every word.)

back before the sprawling reach of vigilantes, back before there was a bat for every corner of the city, gotham only had two guardians: batman and robin. dick and bruce hauled the city out of the darkness, and they managed it mostly alone. with alfred's assistance of course, and jim and later barabara, but those first couple of years? it was just the two of them. as such, bruce taught dick everything nearly he knew, thinking one day dick may have to guard the city alone. he drilled dick in combat and taught him to case a crime scene in seconds, to slink his way around computer systems the way he does the vents of a house, to think differently than most because being a detective required an imagination that was a hop and a skip away from average. most vigilantes now have their own specialty, but dick was trained in an age when that luxury wasn't available, when being a jack of all trades, master of none, was better than master of one.

and the thing was, dick knew people. a magical fiasco? he had zatanna's fondness and constantine's respect, and he'd take care of whatever warlock had decided to test their luck flanked by two of the most powerful magical beings in the business. espionage trouble? he has slowly growing allyship with midnighter, and anyone who learned to swim with the sharks of gotham's upper crust could survive almost any social situation intact. interdimensional threat? he's considered an anchoring point, a constant, in countless other universes. and he has hundreds of people at his back in every one. if dick grayson himself wasn't dangerous enough, the number of people whose loyalty he's won sure is.

[rendevousz]

freak

avengers x teen!fem!reader

summary: you get captured during a mission and the team saves you.

warnings: language, violence, brief misogyny, torture, **NO sexual assault (because as i was proofreading, i only implied most of the torture scenes because i didn't want to write it in graphic detail and i realised the vague wordings might be misinterpreted as sexual assault which IT IS NOT, just clearing it up), and also again, my inability to write good endings

word count: 4589

notes: i just rewatched iron man 2 so that explains justin hammer LMAO also ooc justin hammer because even tho mans evil, he gets extremely um.. cruel here but anyways i hope you enjoy this!!

you were 13 when you first met the avengers and 16 when you officially joined. you grew up as one of HYDRA's experimented children and the team had found you when they raided the base that you were in.

a small, sickly-looking kid you were, sat against your cell wall, hugging your knees. 13 but you could probably pass off as a 10 year old due to how malnourished and miserable you were. burying your head in between your knees, you covered your ears as the loud gunshot noises filled the whole place. the metal door of your cell slamming open against the wall had you whimpering, hands above your head in fear.

every time the door slammed open, guards would come drag you out for more experiments so it was an instinct for you to cower in fear at the sound.

"last room in the west hall, i found a little girl."

you heard nothing because you were covering your ears, preparing yourself to be forcefully dragged by the guards to the experiment room. but it never came.

"hey," a soft voice called. you were violently shaking at this point, breathing heavily as you tried to calm down. "hey, it's okay." the voice called out again and you felt them touch your shoulders.

your head immediately jolted up, flinching away from the stranger's touch. your eyes met a blue pair as you backed away into the corner in fear. "i'm sorry! i'm sorry, i didn't mean to." the man apologised. you slowly looked up at him, observing him. he had on a full black outfit, a quiver of arrows slinging on his shoulder and he was holding onto a bow.

"don't be scared. i'm here to help," he states with his hands out, as if to calm you down. "that's what they all say." you hissed through gritted teeth and a tear-stained face, glaring at him even though that could've been a very wrong move had it been with an actual HYDRA guard.

despite the strange feeling of being safe around this man, you didn't let your guard down. that's exactly what those scientists said seven years ago. trusting kind-looking men got you into this hell you never thought you would ever escape from and you weren't going to make the same mistake again.

"clint," a red-headed female, also in all black, entered through the open door of your cell with her pistol up. at the sight of the weapon, you broke your glare towards the man. your breathing quickened and you went back to your original position before the archer came; body pressed up against your knees and covering your ears with your palms.

"i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i'll come! please don't use that on me again," you whimpered, voice muffled as your face was hidden against your knees. the woman freezes mid-walk, looking at her friend with a bewildered expression.

"nat! put that away!" clint whispered harshly, eyes glaring at the pistol in nat's hands. nat's jaw dropped in realisation, a small gasp leaving her lips as she immediately put away her weapon.

she slowly makes her way to you and clint puts his arm out before she could get closer. he looks at her with a worried expression as he shook his head, as if telling her that she can't get too close to you. nat nods understandingly, crouching down a distance from you.

"hey," she spoke softly. "i promise you that we're not here to hurt you." you kept your face hidden from her, still hugging your legs tightly. nat sighs before sitting down.

"here, let's introduce ourselves. i'm nat and this right here is clint." you hear her speak and when you slowly lifted up your head, you saw the both of them sitting down in front of you, seeming to have made themselves at home in your pathetic cell. "what's your name?"

name? you had never been able to use your name before. you always kept your own name deep in your heart despite no one ever using it, afraid you would forget it if you stopped thinking of it. the only name they ever called you here was 'number five'.

"y/n," you whispered, still doubtful about these people's intentions. you almost burst out crying when you said your name out loud. that was the first time you introduced yourself with your actual name and not the number you were given ever since you were captured.

nat must have noticed this because she immediately spoke up, trying to distract you from your consuming thoughts. "y/n...that's a pretty name for a pretty girl like you. how old are you, y/n?" she asks again.

you contemplated once more but decided it was fine. you knew you were probably going to regret trusting these two strangers but what could be worse than what HYDRA has been doing to you for years?

"13," you muttered, looking down at your lap. you were now timidly seated cross-legged, playing with the tattered hem of your shorts. you heard a small gasp from one of them and looked up to see clint with his jaw dropped.

the two adults were both thinking of the same thing. how could you be 13? you were so small and sickly-looking, they didn't even think you were older than ten, let alone an early teen.

"i know you're scared and you have all the reasons in the world to be, but i promise you, we're here to help. we'll get you out of here, only if you trust us. will you trust us?" nat says. your mind was conflicted. you were either going to finally get out of this hellhole or you were going to be taken somewhere even worse than here. but could anywhere really be worse than here?

you decided to take a leap of faith and trust these two strangers. that decision had to have been the best decision you've ever made in your life.

you were now 18, an official avenger and you had the most amazing family you could've ever asked for. they were a bit on the crazier side but could you really have a normal family when said family consisted of superheroes? but you weren't complaining. you loved these people.

they were the ones who took care of you when you thought you had no one. having been a HYDRA experiment, you had abilities the normal human didn't. said ability being shapeshifting and healing. that's why you became an avenger. your shapeshifting ability was essential during missions where you had to sneak in and you being able to heal others was crucial when medic wasn't able to be there on time.

you pretty much came along to every mission despite the adults saying you don't have to. you knew they were only doing that to protect you from dangers of all those missions but how could you not when you had such abilities? they'd be much better with you helping.

that was why you were here, in bulgaria, fighting alongside the team. well, just steve, nat, clint, bucky and tony.

justin hammer had managed to get his hands on a type of out-of-this-planet weapon that tony was also trying to retrieve, and he had big plans with it. hence why the avengers had to come where hammer had wrecked havoc in; sofia, bulgaria. he had upgraded his robots with the tech used for the stolen weapon.

with evil robots attacking the whole city, it felt like you were living the story that wanda told you of what happened in sokovia before you met the avengers.

an hour passed before all of the robots had finally been taken down and you all knew you had to get to hammer before he activates more robots to distract you guys and uses the weapon for bad things.

"tony, have you located hammer?" steve's voice sounded in your ear through the comms. you had just finished healing the nasty gash on clint's side, nat's cut on her forehead and the bruises all over bucky. you were feeling significantly weaker now, from the amount of healing you did. you stumbled slightly when you walked and bucky immediately held onto your arm. "doll, are you okay?"

"i'm fine, buck. nothing i haven't dealt with before," you told him, gently removing his grip on your arm, walking back to the quinjet.

-

"no, absolutely not. we are not sending y/n right into a death trap. she's not even strong enough right now, she just finished healing us."

you were all back at the compound now and planning a second attack on justin hammer.

"it's not a death trap, buck. and i know you're worried but she's the only choice we got. y/n, all you gotta do is sneak in as one of his henchmen and provide entrance for us. once we get in, we'll take all his guards down and get that weapon from hammer and we won't have to worry about his world domination plans anymore. it'll be over as soon as it starts and she'll be back safe with us. sound good, y/n/n?"

"yeah, sure." you agreed, already having a person in mind that you were going to change yourself to.

-

the plan had gone just as steve wanted and they managed to raid justin hammer's building, tony stealing the very item that could've aided in the massacre of millions. justin and his henchmen managed to escape the building before the avengers could catch them.

"well, that was anticlimactic," tony scoffs, already making his way to the quinjet. "but good job, y/n. you saved the day once again."

he expected to hear a laugh from you, like you usually did, being the only one who ever responds to him after missions. but instead he was met with silence. "kid?" still no answer.

"y/n, where are you?" steve panicked, finally realising that you were the only one who hasn't responded in a hot minute. "y/n/n, this isn't funny." he breathed out.

"she's...she's gone."

-

"well, well, well," a voice spoke right as you woke up from your slumber. you squinted, noticing that you were in some sort of dark room with only one light bulb right above you. "what do we have here?"

a figure walks right in the light and you could barely make out justin hammer's ugly face with how dizzy you felt. "if it isn't the little freak." he states condescendingly, smirking down at your helpless position, both wrists and ankles cuffed onto the metal chair you were sat on. you struggled against the restraints, trying to get free but to no avail.

your breathing quickened, your current vulnerable state reminding you of your later years in HYDRA. they had started off experimenting on you on a metal gurney but as you grew older, you realised that what they were doing to you was bad so you started fighting back. that ended you up on a metal restraint chair instead of the gurney, strapped to the chair with cuffs on your wrists and ankles.

this felt like deja vu. the same panic you felt, the same breathing difficulties, the same amount of effort put into trying to get out of the restraints. "you should know, princess, that that doesn't work." hammer chuckled, a fake pout on his lips as he crouched in front of you, a rough hand on your cheek. you instinctively jerked away from his touch, to which he paid no mind to because he had expected that. he then grabbed your chin harshly, turning your head up towards him. you glared at him.

"you think i didn't know what you did? snuck in as one of my men using your freaky powers? not to mention useless. imagine having powers but not being able to use them to even escape from mere humans," he laughs in your face, harshly letting go of your chin, throwing your head backwards. "you tell me where stark planned to bring the weapon and i'll let you pretty little thing go."

"no."

before you could even comprehend, his fist came flying at your face and your head dropped to the side at the impact. your left cheekbone was throbbing and you could already tell you were gonna have a black eye. despite the pain, it wasn't something you weren't used to. you were an avenger, after all. getting decked in the face was practically in the contract.

he grabbed your chin once again, pulling your head upwards to face him. "you're gonna tell me where it is or i'm gonna make you regret it."

you looked up at him with a bored look. he punched you again. and again. and again. until you could taste the blood on your tongue. "think you wanna tell me now, sweetheart?"

"never. not to someone like you."

the man seemed to get a kick out of beating you up because he punched you again in the face. your whole face was pretty much numb now and the metallic taste in your mouth intensified. you smirked at the man before you, chuckling darkly.

"sure, beat up the helpless girl. that's the only way you can beat me, right? when i'm all tied up? what a man,"

his hand was around your throat within a second and he forced you to look him in the eyes again. "sweetheart, you're a girl. tied or not, you're still weak. not even with that useless power of yours."

taking advantage of how close his face was to yours, you gathered as much bloody saliva in your mouth before spitting it in his face.

it was very much the wrong thing to do because after he wiped off his face, he left the room and two men came in, various tools in hand for their fun with you.

-

"stark! my buddy! how's it going?" justin hammer's face appeared on the screen in the conference room, where the avengers were having a meeting about your possible whereabouts.

"where is she?!" wanda growled, standing up abruptly.

"what ever do you mean?" hammer smirked, feigning innocence. "you know what we mean. where is she?" steve spoke authoritatively, trying to control his anger at the sight of the man's face.

"i'll tell you where your thing is if you tell me where my thing is." he smiled wickedly. this caused wanda to get angrier. "y/n is not a thing! and the weapon was never yours in the first place!" vision held onto her to calm her down and it worked because she sat back down, though still glaring at the screen.

"oh she's not a thing? seems like it to me, though." he smirked and the team frowned, not understanding what he meant until they heard screams and justin's smirk widening at the sound. what a sick bastard. "what are you doing to her?!" bucky screamed, knocking his chair back as he stood up.

"i don't know, you tell me." he chuckles, and the screen changes to the live footage of you in the restraint chair with the two men in the room.

you were no longer fighting back now, just sat limply with your head dropped to the side. the first hour with them, you had been fighting back like you did with justin, despite the restraints, but now entering the second hour, you were too exhausted for anything.

your left eye had been swollen shut, you could barely breathe through your nose, your cheeks were throbbing like hell and your bottom lip was busted. your head was the only thing that moved freely when hit so the men seemed to find satisfaction the most when they punched you in the face. though that didn't stop them from inflicting pain on other parts of you.

"let her go, she's just a kid!" sam exclaimed, his grip on the edge of the table tightening to control his anger. peter and wanda were crying looking at the awful state you were in, clint, tony and bruce were silent in shock, steve and bucky were getting increasingly angry as the abuse continued.

"are you going to tell us where stark is keeping the weapon or have you not gotten enough?" one of the two men was heard asking, pulling your hair back to make you look up at him. you look at with your half-opened right eye, breathing heavily. "my answer's never gonna change no matter how many times you ask."

he scoffs, stepping back before the other man swings a bat right at your stomach. the air was immediately knocked out of your lung. the men laughed as you coughed up blood profusely. this caused wanda to get more hysterical.

"well, looks like she wants more. i'll call back when she's had enough. toodles," he waves his fingers at the camera with a sinister smirk before abruptly ending the call.

the room went silent after the call, save for bucky and sam breathing heavily from the anger they felt. bucky then turned to steve, pain could be seen on his face. "you said she would be safe."

"i–i'm sorry, buck. i didn't know he was gonna take her with him." steve was still frozen in shock, the image of you on the chair now permanently ingrained in his brain. in everyone's brains actually.

"guys, gear up, he's in colorado."

all heads turned towards natasha and she looked back at them with a 'what?' expression. "you were tracking him down the whole time?"

"um, duh? now come on, gotta save our girl."

-

you awoke to a stinging sensation on your inner forearm. after your bloody coughing fit, they proceeded to beat you up again and you were knocked out then. now you were slowly regaining consciousness but you were starting to prefer being passed out. your whole body was in pain and the fact that you couldn't even move made it even worse.

"oh, lookie here. sleeping beauty is up." you were met once again with justin hammer's ugly face. he was sitting on a chair perpendicular to your left side. you couldn't wait to get out of here so you didn't have to keep seeing his face every time you woke up. your inner forearm was stinging even more now so you looked down at it. you gasped at the sight.

"how'd you like my artwork?" he chuckled at your reaction. there on your arm, obviously carved out with the bloody knife that the asshole was so proudly holding on to, was 'FREAK'. carved out big and bold. on your skin. "pretty fitting, eh? freak? because, you know, that's what you are."

the blood was seeping out through the cuts and it stung even more now that it had been exposed to the air. the asshole moved his chair to your other side. "what should i write on this arm?" he feigns a thinking expression, looking up thoughtfully with his thumb and pointer finger on his chin.

"please, i–i don't know where tony put it. i really don't." you cried, tears now flowing freely down your face without a shame.

he looks at you with amusement. "what is this? are you...are you giving up already? can't take anymore?" he smirks and you sigh, closing your eyes. you just awoke but you were exhausted. so, so exhausted.

he takes out his phone, the smirk now permanent on his ugly face. "stark! kid's finally had enough. wanna tell me where the weapon is now or do you want to find her body at the bottom of the ocean?"

you couldn't even be bothered to react to his statement. the pain all finally registered and you were tired. tired and in excruciating pain.

"kinda busy right now, can you call back later?" you could hear tony's voice sound from justin's phone and the man beside you laughed. "i see you don't care for the girl. what could possibly be more important than saving her?"

"i don't know, you tell me." a voice said from behind you two and before you knew it, hammer was knocked off the chair he was on. you weakly turned your head just in time to see a metal arm force hammer up onto his feet before wrapping around his neck. "don't you fucking touch her again."

"y/n!" you heard wanda's voice as she entered the room with peter. more tears flowed down your face at the sight of them, stinging when they rolled past the cuts on your face but that didn't matter. your family was finally here to save you.

you saw the red mist of wanda's powers surround your cuffs before they clicked open. "oh, bubs, i'm so sorry." she cried, both hands hovering around your face, hesitating to touch you in fear of hurting you. her eyes fell onto the words carved out onto your skin and her mouth fell open before covering it with her hand. "i'm so sorry we couldn't get to you sooner." peter's voice cracked and you could tell he was emotional.

"it's okay," you told them, giving them a small smile, the biggest one you could give in your current state.

tony, sam and steve entered the room to see bucky relentlessly beating up your captor and wanda and peter standing by you as you cried.

"cupcake, we're here now. don't cry, you're safe now." tony came closer and despite knowing that you were because your family was finally here, you couldn't help but let out all the pent up emotions you've kept throughout your time of captivity.

sam had a go at justin once bucky was done and steve had to physically pry them both off of the sick bastard so that nat could cuff him and bring him back to the jet.

"y/n/n, i'm so sorry. if i hadn't–"

"it's okay, stevie." you cut him off. truthfully, you only did so because you knew he was going to giving a long-winded explanation justifying his actions and your headache couldn't bear to hear lengthy sentences. but you also didn't think it was in any way his fault so he didn't deserve to be beating himself up for this. shit happens, anyway.

"let's get you out of here, doll." bucky says, cringing when he sees the blood on the floor of your chair, as well as on your clothes. he quickly reaches to lift you off the chair but stops when you let out an ear-piercing scream of pain. "doll, i'm so sorry! did i hurt you?!" bucky questions in panic.

"y–you didn't, they did. it...it hurts everywhere," you cried, feeling hopeless that you couldn't even bear being carried by someone, let alone get up by yourself. their hearts broke when you said that. you never really cried much in front of them and you were known to withstand pain well because of how much shit HYDRA put you in as well as your powers being healing, meaning you had a higher pain tolerance than most people.

"it's okay, bubs. i got you. let's get you home, alright?" wanda's calming voice broke you out of your breakdown and red mist surrounded your whole body, wanda moving you with her powers. you were thankful of that because it didn't cause any more pain to your body.

maybe hammer was right. maybe you are just a freak with useless powers. wanda floated you into the jet and she set you down on the bed. "y/n, oh my god!" clint cried out once he sees you. you looked much worse than you did on hammer's camera footage during the call an hour ago. "kid, i'm so sorry."

"clint, take the wheel. bruce doesn't have all the resources needed. she needs to be treated ASAP." nat tells her best friend and he nods, taking the wheel and immediately taking off once everyone had boarded.

you were laid on the bed, right eye slightly open as bruce examined you. exhaustion hit you like a truck and before you knew it, you blacked out.

-

"how is she, doc?"

"pretty banged up but y/n, as i already knew, is a strong girl. lots of internal bleeding, broken bones, bruises and scars but she'll be fine. you can check her file later if you want," doctor cho tells tony outside of your room. "it's fine, can we see her?" he asks on behalf of the whole team standing behind him.

"yeah, of course! she woke up five minutes ago. i'll be off now, call me or my team if you need anything." she bids goodbye and left the group of superheroes.

steve slowly opens the door and there you were in bed, staring up at the ceiling. "hey, y/n/n," he greets sheepishly, feeling as though he had interrupted your alone time of blankly staring at the ceiling. the team trailed in behind him and soon your bed was surrounded by the avengers.

"hi, cupcake."

you looked away from the ceiling and turned your head towards tony. "oh, hey tones." you smile as sam helps you sit up while the rest sat on chairs all around you. "how you feeling, bub?" nat asks, eyes flickering down to the bold scarring of letters on your forearm.

"as okay as i can be." you answered truthfully, pressing your inner forearm closer to your body so the team doesn't see the letters carved onto your skin. you already know what you are, you didn't need the rest thinking so too.

"you're not a freak, bubs."

you look up at wanda. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to read your mind. but they were awfully loud. you're not a freak, y/n. and you're not useless too. that bastard may have carved out that word onto your skin but the scar will fade. it's not permanent. you know why? because that's not what you are." she tells you, taking off her jacket to wrap it around you because you felt self conscious of the scars all over your arms where the team could see.

"yeah, doll. you're an amazing person and your powers help us so much. i mean, you saved millions just helping us get the weapon back from justin hammer. if you hadn't, well, who knows what could've been happening right now?" he places a gentle hand at the side of your head, stroking your hair.

"yeah and who heals us when we get really hurt during missions, huh? i mean, if you hadn't healed that stab wound i got during that mission in new mexico, i probably wouldn't even be here at this moment." clint tells you and you roll your eyes at him. "you're exaggerating."

"i am not!" he laughed and you playfully rolled your eyes once again.

"y/n/n, i'm really sorry for—"

"i don't wanna hear it, stevie."

"but–"

"no. it's not your fault. shit happens." you brush him off. "lang–"

"you say language to me, i'll blame this shit on you even when it's not your fault. try me, rogers." you glare at the blond super soldier. he raises his arms in surrender, leaning back on his chair as the team laughs.

the team continue to entertain you and you couldn't help but smile at the sight in front of you. these were the people who would drop anything for you and were willing to dropkick any asshole in the face for hurting you. justin hammer never had a chance against your family to begin with.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg

[shanastoryteller]

Wen Qing says yes because all she can think of is the consequences if she doesn’t.

She probably should have spent some time considering what, exactly, the consequences of saying yes would be.

~

Wei Wuxian wants to go back to the banquet and shake Jin Zixun until the information they need falls out, but Wen Qing knows that’s a terrible idea, knows that he shouldn’t be helping her at all but he definitely shouldn’t stand in front of the whole cultivation world and threaten the Jin family for her. He asks one of the servants instead, something she wouldn’t have thought to do, but he insists that servants know everything and after a hefty bribe he’s telling them what they need to know and even turns a blind eye when they take a horse that’s been left unattended.

She’s skinny on a good day and she hasn’t seen a good day in a long time. Wei Wuxian didn’t used to be this thin, this breakable, but he is now, and she tells herself it’s a good thing because the one horse is easily able to carry both of them. He sits behind her even though he takes the reigns and she leans back into him because she’s been holding herself up for so long and she’s tired and he’s helping her, something no one has been willing to in – ever, really. She thinks she could almost count his ribs against her back and thinks if she’s alive tomorrow she’ll give him a lecture about eating properly without a golden core to nourish him.

They arrive just as a guard is raising a broken flag pole above his head to skewer A-Ning.

Wei Wuxian stops him, using a talisman to bind the man’s wrist to his own and jerking him away from her brother. Who is alive, and whole, and does not have a pole through his stomach. She’s crying when she holds him and Wei Wuxian stands between them and everyone else and looks at the guards and her people and says, “I have an idea. It’s a bad idea.”

“Your ideas usually are,” she says, but she’s still shaking at having her little brother back in her arms so it doesn’t come out as acerbic as she intended.

~

It is a terrible idea. She doesn’t have to agree to it.

She does.

They go to the nearest temple in Lanling because they need witnesses for this. The monks are confused and frightened but bear witness as she bows three times to Wei Wuxian and is bowed to three times in return.

She is exhausted and scared and is still unconvinced that she’ll live to see the sunrise, but Wei Wuxian had helped her when she hadn’t asked and saved her brother and wouldn’t let the guards stop them from leading her family from the work camp, so she marries him.

~

They go back to Koi Tower. It’s terrifying but Jiang disciples meet them and look askance at all the rest of them but don’t hesitate to obey Wei Wuxian. They surround them as they walk and if they have opinions about being told to guard traitorous Wen, they don’t voice them. Maybe the fact that they’re guarding Wei Wuxian too is enough.

They enter the banquet hall and everything is silent. She doesn’t know how to read the look on everyone’s faces and she doesn’t try. Instead she stands by Wei Wuxian’s side and does what she does best – she doesn’t flinch.

“Wei Wuxian!” Jin Guangshan shouts, appalled. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Sect Leader Jin,” he says, offhand, casual, as if having his hall filled with Wen is a perfectly ordinary occurrence. “You’re so good at throwing parties. I was hoping you would throw one for me.”

Jin Guangshan’s eyes narrow. “Why would we throw a party?”

“Well, it is my wedding day,” he says, and holds out his hand. Wen Qing places her hand in his, lets his other hand settle warm and proprietary at the small of her back. “My wife, Wen Qing. We were just married at the temple in Lanling. Feel free to question the monks if you don’t believe me.”

The silence breaks, everyone shouting now, and A-Yuan’s cry cuts through all of them.

She hadn’t known that Wei Wuxian had any experience with children, but he turns automatically, opening his arms, and Granny barely hesitates before placing A-Yuan into them. After all, if they can’t trust Wei Wuxian, they’re all dead anyway.

A-Yuan, astonishingly, quiets instantly as Wei Wuxian bounces him in his arms, settling his head on his shoulder and sticking his thumb in his mouth.

“You,” Wen Qing turns, sees Jiang Cheng looking between them, and she could probably read the look on his face but she doesn’t want to. “He’s your – you have a – was it when we, after Lotus Pier?”

She and Wei Wuxian glance at each other, and maybe this marriage will work out, because that one glance contains a whole conversation of things they can’t say. The timeline almost works. A-Yuan likely was conceived sometime around the fall of Lotus Pier. If there is a child, Wei Wuxian’s actions become more understandable, seem less like an act of war and something closer to what they really are, an act of love.

She could have, she supposes, laid with Wei Wuxian and gotten pregnant and bore a child in the years since they’ve seen each other. She didn’t, but the only ones who know that are either dead or just as desperate as she is for this to work.

Or. Well.

Jiang Yanli’s face is easier to look at, even as it does something complicated then smooths. She was there and awake while they all recovered with her and Wen Ning. She knows that she and Wei Wuxian didn’t have any sort of epic romance, or even a quick tryst, during that time. Wei Wuxian was so obsessively focused on helping his brother that the idea he’d have paused long enough for sex when he hadn’t for sleep or food is ridiculous. But Jiang Yanli meets her gaze then pointedly lowers her eyes and something like relief trickles down Wen Qing’s spine.

Wei Wuxian looks around the hall and if he hesitates over Lan Wangji, that’s a conversation for them to have later, if there is a later.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Wei Wuxian says quietly, formally, and Jiang Cheng nearly flinches before catching himself. “Meet my son. Wei Yuan.” He lets that echo through the hall and then says, “I could not leave him, nor the woman who bore him, nor the family that raised him when I remained in ignorance.”

She lowers his gaze as if in shame, for having a child out of marriage, for keeping that child from his father, but mostly she can’t stand to see the look at Jiang Cheng’s face any longer.

~

There is intense debate among the clans. The Lan and surprisingly even the Nie vote against the Jin and agree for the Wen to be released to the custody of the Jiang rather than the Jin. What’s the difference between one great clan and the other, after all, and Jiang Cheng fights for this, fights for them, and Wen Qing knows he’s really fighting for Wei Wuxian. Their marriage makes things too complicated, like they’d hoped. A-Yuan makes things too complicated, and everyone in the hall mostly seems to want to go back to drinking. There is some poorly hidden sentiment that if Wei Wuxian wants a war bride he should be entitled to her, for his contribution to the war, perhaps, and Wen Qing hates these people. They do not call her and her family tribute but they imply it easily enough.

If the price of the lives of her family is her pride, that’s fine. She abandoned that a long time ago.

~

“You have been good for him,” Jiang Yanli tells her a month after they’ve moved into Lotus Pier, a month of being the wife to Wei Wuxian and the mother to the now Wei Yuan. She doesn’t do a particularly good job at either of these roles, she thinks, but Wei Wuxian makes a good husband and a good father and it was his idea but she can’t help but feel guilty, can’t help but think she stole for herself and her family what was meant for someone else.

Her sister in law’s words aren’t wrong, however. She doesn’t let Wei Wuxian drink so much anymore and forces him to eat. She’s there in his bed when he gasps awke from nightmares and when he can do nothing more but clutch his chest and weep. She gets the story of the Burial Mounds from him, eventually, and she doesn’t know how to heal that kind of trauma, but she holds him when he cries and thinks even if she can’t be a proper wife, she can do this, and she heals the damage demonic cultivation does to his meridians, and it seems like such little things, comparatively, but it helps.

She’s offers up the excuse that demonic cultivation makes using his sword difficult and people stop asking him to carry it. A-Ning sticks to Wei Wuxian’s side when she can’t, looking faintly sad whenever Wei Wuxian makes an unhealthy choice, which is even more effective than her scolding, although not as effective as getting A-Yuan to place his chubby hand on Wei Wuxian’s cheek and go, “Baba no.”

Without so many nightmares, with having people around he can talk to freely, with no one pestering him about his sword, Wei Wuxian shoulders all the responsibilities of first disciple and brother of the clan leader, something he apparently hadn’t been able to do before.

She knows what the rumors say. Those that had been against her and her family being set free, relatively speaking, are now patting themselves on the back. Clearly the fearsome Yiling Patriarch has been cowed by marriage. His bastard son, who he loved enough at first sight to legitimize, has softened his sharp edges.

Wen Qing knows that’s all bullshit and Jiang Yanli does too, but.

He is better.

Jiang Cheng can’t seem to decide between being relieved and grateful at having his brother back and resentful that it took Wen Qing to bring it about and – whatever his feelings about her are, and her marriage to his brother are, which she doesn’t know because she refuses to acknowledge them.  

“I’m glad,” she says quietly.

Her sister in law squeezes her hand, and Wen Qing squeezes back, and if this isn’t exactly the life she wanted, well. It’s a life. That’s more than she thought she’d have.

She has a loving husband and an adorable son and living, healthy family. There is nothing for her to complain about.

Just because it all feels stolen, just because it all feels like something she never should have been given, doesn’t make it less good, doesn’t make it less hers.

~

Wen Qing knows that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in love with each other because she has two functioning eyes. She’s known that since she was a teenager in Cloud Recesses.

She had not wanted to come between them. She hadn’t planned on it. This all hadn’t even been her idea.

She’s guilty enough about it that she ignores her own feelings.

At first, she doesn’t have any, not really. Then it hadn’t been right.

She’s never felt greedy before. She doesn’t like it but she doesn’t know how to stop it.

~

They’ve been married for over a year the first time Wei Wuxian kisses her.

They’ve been married nearly two years the first time Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji.

Something settles in her then, relief burrowing into her bones. Lan Wangji comes to her after, a combination of desirously happy and mortified, and bows to her and looks her in the eye when he tells her that he’s in love with her husband.

“I know,” she says kindly, “he’s easy to love.” She pauses, then says, “I do not mind. If it’s you.”

His lips part, and she holds the place that should be his, married to Wei Wuxian, but.

She can share, if he can. Even if it can’t be official, on paper, she and Wen Ning can bear witness to him and Wei Wuxian bowing to each other and maybe she’ll finally be able to breath when she can give back some of what she stole.

~

There are rumors about the three of them.

They don’t listen to them.

A-Yuan calls Lan Wangji his father and no one corrects him and that’s good enough for her, really.

It’s a good life, and it’s hers, and she’s glad of it.