#His mom is one of those violent “I’m terrible you must hate me” to “I hate you” to “you’re the only reason I haven’t killed myself”

[caterpillarinacave]

I have the entirety of Roman Torchwicks childhood (that we didn’t see) figured out btw. If you even care btw.

[xaibaugrove]

Everyone in the Krew is Problematic

I was inspired to go on this rant by someone who recently brought up a question in a server I’m in, asking why so many people in the fandom seem to hate Mako and Makorra and why. This wouldn’t be the first time I defend Mako and it most likely won’t be the last, but it might be the first time I tear him and everyone else in the Krew down in the process, only to bring them back up. Hear me out though.

I think I’ve totally accepted that a lot of people in this fandom will always hate Mako and that I will have to perpetually defend him, I understand that this is the relationship I’ve chosen with this world. But what I still will never understand are the reasons why people hate/dislike him because compared to how much they love other characters in the Krew who honestly aren’t that much better than him (in some cases, even worse!), it doesn’t make any sense.

Let me also preface this by saying, I love these characters with all my heart and soul, probably more than I should love fictional characters, but this is the life I live and with that being said, I am going to tear them apart just to prove a point. Okay, here we go.

MAKO

Most of his detractors list the usual criticisms, which are valid when isolated. He cheated on Asami, he lied to Korra, he was a terrible boyfriend and essentially he treated the women he claimed to love or care about horribly. Gee, it’s almost like the man was a teenager with no experience in having long-lasting, healthy relationships and was raised in the streets by gangmembers while doing anything to survive and provide for his younger sibling after seeing his parents killed right in front of him and suddenly being orphaned…

I think Mako has been torn down enough, so I won’t get too deep into the tearing down part for him. It really does baffle me how someone can claim to be woke and not comprehend how someone coming from poverty could possibly be a product of their environment. Like, does everyone think that poor people automatically have hearts of gold and turn out like Little Orphan Annie? Why are people surprised that when someone has a shitty life, they might do shitty things?

Also, sooo many people love Zuko, who actively tried to cause harm to Aang, Katara and Sokka numerous times, and sympathize with his troubled past. But like, sure Zuko had an abusive father and his mother peaced out of his life for whatever reasons but at least he had his uncle. Mako had his parents for maybe 8 years before they were murdered in front of him and then had...no one for the next 10 years? Except for Bolin, sure, but no other parental figure in his life. Dude literally had to become him and his brother’s own parent and joined a gang to survive, and after all that, the worst he does is acts as a bad boyfriend toward Korra and Asami and he is instantly thrown to the wolves. Something doesn’t add up. It’s just...I don’t get it.

Yes, the way he treated people was bad, but people can grow? That’s a thing humans can do. And he was a teenager, my god. No, we cannot allow our past to be an excuse for how we treat others, but we have to be aware that there is a growth process to being human. And being human in and of itself, isn’t pretty. You think Mako is problematic? Don’t get me started on your fave.

KORRA

Ok, I love this woman to death but she is ridiculously problematic. She pursued someone in a relationship and essentially forced Mako to cheat on Asami by kissing him against his will, that’s already pretty awful and shows a lack of empathy on her part, also kissing people without their consent is no bueno. But also I just have to say it for the people who might not know this. One of the fundamental reasons why Makorra didn’t work was because KORRA WAS ABUSIVE. Okay? It wasn’t just that Mako was inadequate at relationships and didn’t know how to people, it wasn’t that she was secretly confused and wanting Asami the entire time (biphobia at it’s best) one of the main problems in the pairing was that Korra was crazy abusive towards Mako. Seriously, why don’t I see this more often in those discussions??

If we need examples, I have dozens. Honestly, it’s really easy to see how terrible Korra was to Mako, I’d actually argue that she treated him worse than he treated her. I mean, they were both terrible to one another, but in Korra’s case she went through the motions of being completely infatuated with your first teenage crush, getting with said crush, then crashing and burning once you realize that you have no idea how to treat a romantic partner so after the butterflies wear off you subject them to all the wonderful aspects of your anger issues. Not only did she scream at Mako during every argument they had, she also threatened him with bodily harm if she got really angry. Remember how their relationship crashed and burned in Book 2? Here are the things that Korra did during that time. Let me reiterate, this was not okay.

Mako is visibly shaken by this!

This woman burst into her boyfriend’s place of work and violently kicked his desk out from in front of him with all his coworkers present. That is not normal behavior. That is a red flag. And after she came back, had amnesia or whatever and forgot they broke up after that scene, let’s not forget that Mako was legitimately Afraid to break up with her again. Korra made her partner frightened that they might suffer bodily harm if they upset her. Again, and I can’t stress this enough, this is not okay!

The little scene in Book 3 when Korra is lifting Mako like 100 feet off the ground with airbending while he’s screaming in fear just to make Asami laugh is cute, right? I’ll admit, I loved that little moment too, it’s one of the only instances of Korrasami development that we got, but also, there were sooo many things wrong with that scene lol. Not only does Korra terrify Mako for literally no reason, it’s also sort of just her continuing to exercise some degree of power over him for her own amusement. Almost like a subtle reminder to him saying, “I am stronger than you in every way and I can break your femur like a twig if I wanted to… but I won’t, so look how much fun we’re having!”

Now of course, there are reasons why Korra acts like this. She was isolated for almost her entire life and never learned how to treat people and be around people. The Avatar is human because they must live amongst the people they protect and that helps them develop empathy and cherish life. The White Lotus deprived her of that fundamental aspect of her duty as the Avatar and it showed throughout the beginning of the series. Clearly, she was young, didn’t see how her actions could negatively affect others and hurt the feelings of not just her partner but also friends and family (she was really awful towards a lot of people in her life!). But as the series went on, we see her having less outbursts and learning to control her temper more.

One can only assume that she does not have the same behavior with Asami because for one, I don’t think Asami would play that shit, she seems like she would electrocute a bitch in a heartbeat and not hesitate if needed, but also Korra is not the same shitty partner she used to be as a teenager. Again, kids do stupid things. Adults do stupid things. And we learn and we grow. Korra will probably make some more mistakes in her relationship with Asami. I don't think anyone can have one bad relationship and suddenly learn all the lessons they can from it and have a perfect one the next go around. I can totally picture Korra losing her temper and raising her voice at Asami if she gets frustrated and forgets who she’s dealing with. Managing anger issues is hard, I know this from experience, and it doesn’t magically get easier. Of course, if Korra does pop off, Asami would definitely put her in her place because she’s a bad bitch who doesn’t take anyone’s shit, next character.

ASAMI

You know her, you love her, you fantasize about her and you probably have her on your list of fictional characters you would totally bang if you had the chance (I know I do), yes, even your best girl is problematic. It’s interesting to me that a lot of people sympathize with Asami and very few openly criticize her (so few that I’ve never seen anyone say a bad thing about her). What’s there to criticize though? The poor girl was cheated on by Mako, had her feelings disregarded by Korra, who claimed to be her friend but pursued her then-boyfriend behind her back and then made up for it by simping for her for the rest of her life? Also her mom was murdered when she was just 6 years old, her father threatened to kill her once and physically abused her, then died right after they started repairing their relationship, essentially making her an orphan at the ripe age of 22. Suffice it to say, Asami has been through it.

So, how could she be problematic, you ask? Why, of course, through the classic Bryke technique of romance progression in storylines called Kissing People Without Their Consent

To be honest, I did gloss over this with Korra, simply because there were sooo many other issues with that woman and I just couldn’t go through every single one in as much detail but that doesn’t negate how serious this whole sneak attack kissing thing is. Sure, Asami is very emotional and lonely and sort of desperate too, (it's a little sad, really) but Mako is clearly uncomfortable and completely caught off guard by the kiss. This is also the second time this happens to him in the series! There are a couple factors that might contribute to why Asami does this and acts this way, maybe Korra’s general awfulness rubbed off on her (don’t make a dirty joke) but this is still wrong.

AND that’s...pretty much it. Kissing people without their permission is a big no no, though. Not wanting to gloss over that, but Asami really is a good person who just did a not-so-great thing. Getting burned by Mako twice probably made her a little less inclined to be as forward with anyone though, and it looks like she now takes her time and is patient in her relationship with Korra. It even seems like Asami is the only person Korra is afraid to upset, as Korra does seem more gentle and calm when around her. And who knows? Maybe Asami living a life where a majority of the time she got whatever she wanted when she wanted it might have also influenced her to be more assertive or even imposing within her relationships.

If anything, those three fools getting into relationships with each other just showed how not ready they were to be in relationships in the first place and also how not okay they were.

BOLIN

Originally I titled this as “Everyone in the Krew is problematic (except Bolin)” but then I remembered that Bolin totally kissed a woman without her consent so I deleted the shit out of that!

This asshole looks genuinely pleased with himself after essentially assaulting Ginger. Not a good look.

Sure, Bolin is baby. He will always be baby to me. But that does not erase the fact that he also actively supported a fascist dictator. Not only was the kissing without consent thing bad, but there’s also that. No matter how many times people around him warned him about the fact that he was on the wrong side of things, that he was helping someone who was putting people into concentration camps...Bolin wanted to believe the best of Kuvira. He ignored obvious signs that the woman was a dictator committing human rights violations like crazy and you know, there’s gotta be a reason for that too.

Maybe Bolin wanted to feel like he was doing something good for once. When you think about it, with his role as the comic relief in the Krew, and sort of constantly being infantilized by his older brother, I wouldn’t be surprised if the man developed some insecurity in his ability to do anything good or useful for anyone without screwing it up in some way. In Kuvira’s army, it seemed like he was actually taken seriously, he felt like he was doing something that mattered. Korra had being the Avatar, Asami had her business and mindblowing philanthropy (honestly, her ability to be as charitable as she is profitable is insane) and Mako had his police work (ACAB, tho). Bolin had...the role of being a joke. A superficial actor. A former pro-bending meathead.

Bolin lived his entire life following after his brother that once they were adults and Mako finally decided to live his own life for once, it left Bolin completely lost. And lost young men are perfect recruits for fascists.

So, in conclusion, my whole reasoning behind destroying the integrity of my favorite characters is to prove a huge point. All of these characters are problematic. They have flaws, some bigger than others (looking at you, Korra. Just...wow), but ultimately, even if your fave is problematic... that’s okay. A lot of people, mostly younger people it seems, are really obsessed with being right about everything that they do and stan. And that’s a wonderful thing, so much change has come about by the younger generations calling out people who do fucked up shit, don’t want or try to improve, and get away with it. But it’s also caused a lot of people to be unforgiving and completely unwilling to acknowledge when people do improve and try to be better.

Personally, I love my problematic Krew because having issues that you’re constantly working on internally is human. It’s human to make mistakes, it’s human to grow from those mistakes. And it’s inspiring to me, who is wholly imperfect, to see myself reflected in fictional characters who aren’t perpetuating unrealistic ideals of human nature, characters who are messy, crazy and ultimately human.

As one of my favorite manga artists and queen of impeccable character creation Rumiko Takahashi once said:

“I think that perfect people are not very interesting.”

And I will always wholeheartedly agree.

[burberryfaerie]

If Tonks had a younger sibling Pt 4 :

Pairings : Cedric diggory x gryffindor!reader

Warnings : Angst, fluff, character death, torture, crying, swearing, a war basically, possible spelling mistakes

A/N : In case if you're asking, yes i was crying during writing this.

Tags: @loveitsonlyforthebrave ❤️

Hermione apparates you to a place called Tottenham Court Road.

“The heck is a cappuccino? Is it better than butterbeer?”

Your ring suddenly rings violently and you can't understand why?

Dolohov and Rowle rudely interrupt your thoughts.

Going to Grimmauld place knowing damn well you're being followed.

Arthur Weasley's patronus reassuring that everyone is okay.

Remus's unlikely visit.

Muggle-borns are targeted by the ministry.

Your father and best friend are targeted.

Dora's pregnant.

You'll have your own niece / nephew.

But he wants to leave her.

“Me and my family went through shit Remus, and I won't let you break my sister's heart.”

Hating Remus with every inch of you.

Because how dare he breaks Dora's heart.

Kreacher's tale.

Regulus died as a good person who lived beneath the shadows of his prejudiced family.

The locket is with umbridge.

well, fuck

You know what's fucker?

Snape is headmaster

“WHAT ABOUT MINNIE?”

“who the heck are the carrows?”

Going to the ministry after drinking polyjuice potion and morphing in your case.

"Magic is might"

Seeing 'Umbitch'

Harry stupefying umbitch.

Escaping the ministry before Yaxley gets hold of you.

Apparating to a mysterious place.

A forest apparently.

Ron's splinched.

Hermione's protection spells.

“How do you have time to learn all this stuff? Last time I checked we go to the same school,”

“Last time I checked you don't study a word.”

Taking turns in wearing the locket since you can't destroy it.

Feeling so cruel once it rests around your neck.

It's a part of voldemort's soul afterall.

Ron leaving three months later.

Crying your eyes out every night because you miss your best friend so much it hurts.

Same thing with Hermione.

“Why haven't you told him Mione?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you love him”

You give her a knowing look, she returns it with the faintest of smiles.

Going to Godric's Hollow.

Looking at the statue of Lily, James amd baby Harry with sadness and awe.

They were too young to die.

Too innocent to die.

You visit their grave.

You smiled because you suddenly felt their presence, two warm souls watching over you.

Bathilda Bagshot.

Fuck that's a snake.

Voldy is here and he was about to murder the three of you right before you apparated.

Fast forward when Ron returns.

You're so. bloody mad at him but can't help it and pull him into a hug.

“You're such an idiot, Ronald Billius Weasley.”

Hermione's so mad too but you know damn well she still loves him.

Ron and Harry telling the events of last night, first horcrux is destroyed, wohoo.

Visiting Xenophilious Lovegood.

The deathly hallows and the tale of the three brothers.

Luna's painting of you, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and her.

“She's so precious.” you think.

Xenophilious's betrayal.

Hermione wiping the fuck outta his memories.

fast forward a couple of days later.

listening to potterwatch. the norm.

lee jordan's voice

“Let's take a moment to report those deaths that the Wizarding Wireless Network  and Daily Prophet don't think important enough to mention. It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell.”

Feeling the worst heartache you've ever felt.

feeling as if every muscle, every cell in your body stopped functioning.

“No”

he can't die.

he was always okay. he can't just die.

he's expecting a grandchild. he can't just go.

The trio rushing to hug you.

Harry not able to meet your eyes.

“I'm so sorry” Hermione sobs into your neck.

You don't cry.

You can't cry.

You just sit there, feeling emptiness.

You suddenly get up, shoving everything in your way.

Ron holding you back.

"it's okay, I'm here” he reassures you.

You letting out a heart-wrenching scream that came out from god knows where.

Thank god Hermione has protection spells.

The trio tuck you into bed, making sure you were asleep.

You slept almost instantly, dreaming of your father who speaks to you.

“I'm always here, watching over you. Don't give up sweetheart, fight for your mom, dora, Remus and Cedric.”

“How'd you know about Cedric? ”

“I knew all along” he smiled

Waking up feeling slightly better the next day.

Fast forward when the snatches caught you.

Taken to Malfoy Manor

Bellatrix torturing you and craving "traitor" on your arm.

She also tries to slit your throat.

“You know? I want to murder you so badly, so you'd end up like your mudblood father, but I'll torture you, unril you beg for mercy.”

Literally screaming throughout the whole process.

“I know about Diggory, he's quite of a traitor, but his blood is pure, he won't want a filthy half-blood traitor like you with him.”

“SHUT UP, YOU DON'T KNOW HIM, SHUT U—”

being cut of with her dagger cutting your skin.

she moves on to Hermione next while you watch helplessly.

Dobby, Harry and Ron save you two.

Apparating to shell cottage.

You spot a small, weak figure in the distance.

You try reaching out for it, but you're too weak.

You loose consciousness in Ron's arms.

Next thing you knew you were in a room, Fleur watching over you.

Learning that Dobby's lost his life.

Feeling so weak.

Remus visits.

Little Teddy is born!!!

Can't help but feel so happy and hugging Remus, forgetting about all the drama.

Harry's Teddy's godfather.

yay

Gringotts

You hide under Harry's cloak.

You get caught.

Robbing Bellatrix's vault.

Getting the horcrux and giving griphook the sword.

Aaaaaand Griphook betrays you.

Escaping on a dragon.

Basically having to head to hogwarts.

To get the horcrux.

Hogsmeade at Abeforth Dumbledore.

Ariana Dumbledore's portrait.

NEVILLLEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Him looking terrible yet dashing at the same time.

From your conversation, you concluded that the carrows and Snape are absolute assholes.

Reuniting with all your friends!

Harry goes to Ravenclaw tower with Luna.

The order is here .

Cedric spots you.

He literally just picks you up and kisses you.

infront of everyone basically.

including the adults.

feeling sorta awkward but you don't care.

“YOU ESCAPED GRINGOTTS ON A DRAGON?!! DAMN IT LOVE HOW CRAZY CAN YOU GET?!!! ”

Harry interrupts your adorable moment.

Voldemort wants Harry.

“Potter's right here! someone grab him”

yeah of course, pugface parkinson.

literally everyone jumping in to defend Harry.

The battle has started.

You seeing Dora and running to hug her.

“MY BRAVE SISTER!” she shouts.

“Once we're outta here, we're spoiling Teddy with every inch of me.”

“I kinda approve though”

Duelling multiple death eaters.

Including Dolohov, Rookwood, Rabstan Lestrange.

Saving Malfoy's arse from the flames in the room of requirement.

Going to the shrieking shack to face Voldemort.

Snape's dead.

He's acting weird all of a sudden.

Voldemort wants Harry to meet him in the forbidden forest.

The chaos has calmed down.

You enter the great hall.

Your eyes roam around the room to find the redheads huddled together, the Diggorys, somewhat crying?

You take a closer look, seeing what they're all mourning.

You shake your head in disbelief.

Remus and Dora?

Your sister?

Your soulmate?

They just had a baby.

You felt Fred and George hug you, Hermione and Ginny hugging eachother.

You kneel down.

Your world is crushing.

They're dead but they look so peaceful.

You hugged Dora.

Ever so tightly.

The last time you'll ever hug her.

You wished you can turn the clock back, to listen to to weird sisters together, to giggle behind the Malfoys back together, to annoy your mother together.

Perhaps you could've been able to save her.

You rest your head on her chest.

Muffled voices of everyone else speaking were in the background.

But you didn't care.

You let out a cry, a small one.

You let out a slightly louder one.

You felt your chest tighten, your stomach churn, you felt your eyes twitch underneath your lids.

You heard Cedric's comforting voice.

“Shhhhhh.. I got you love”

But his words are not comforting you.

You just lay there on Dora's chest.

By that, you knew your hair will never turn pink again.

You don't know how many minutes or hours had passed by.

You heard the familiar snake-like vouce of Lord Voldemort.

“Harry Potter is dead He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together.”

You slightly lift your head.

The great hall was deadly silent.

You were sure he was lying.

You slowly walked up, holding hands with Ron and Hermione, exiting the great hall.

Voldemort and his army stood and your eyes spotted Hagrid.

He was carrying someone.

It was Harry.

Your body can't lift you anymore.

Mconagall let out a terrible scream followed by yours , Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Cedric's then everyone else.

Neville standing up to Voldemort.

He- he killed the snAKE??!!!

You just watchung Neville like a proud mom.

Cahos erupts once more.

Harry's gone?

No like seriously, he's just vanished.

poof

Spotting Cedric taking over three death eaters all at once.

Just being so proud of him.

You duelling Rodolphus Lestrange.

Took over him (as you should)

Moving to Bellatrix Lestrange.

Duelling her with Hermione, Luna and Ginny.

Bitch just aimed a killing curse at Ginny??!

About to make your move but-

“Not my daughter you bitch”

literally internally screaming because MOLLY WEASLEY DID NOT JUST CUSS???

Bellatrix's downfall.

Just felt a bit relaxed.

Voldemort is about to kill Molly but—

FUCK??

HARRY??

DID THIS MOTHERFUCKER TURN INTO A GHOST TO KILL VOLDEMORT?!!

Voldemort's downfall.

The man who everyone feared sayimg his name, just, fell down.

dead

Post-battle

You hug your mom so tight , she knew about everything.

You raising Teddy along with your mother and Harry.

You still have nightmares and trauma from the war.

But, Cedric was always there for you.

Not like he was any better, but you two comfort eachother.

Him placing soft, small kisses around your "traitor" scar after telling him about the Malfoy Manor events.

You, Harry, Ron amd Hermione gather at the burrow, just sitting there in comfortable silence, holding eachother.

Three years pass by and Cedric's on one knee, asking you to be his forever.

You frantically saying “Yes” before hugging him.

You were now an auror, just like Dora.

The wedding was so simple.

You had Hermione, Ginny and Luna as your bridesmaids.

Looking at the empty seats made especially for your father, Remus, Dora and Sirius.

Saying "I do" before leaning in and kissing him.

And for the first time in three years, your hair turned pink again.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Code: Light

Part of my Series based on the in game dungeons lol. Just for fun.

In fact… there was a boy who lived here… 20 years ago…

The words echoed in Lu Mingfei’s mind as he looked over the rundown landscape in front of him. He was sitting on a dirty pillow on a broken, rotted out porch, rain pouring down on his head through the holes in the overhang. Spiders skittered about and made him pull his feet in. In front of him was a table of rice, vegetables and tea. Outside the porch was a small garden with a pond, green and overgrown with algae. It was pouring down rain as it had been all day. The pond was at capacity and it would soon overflow its banks. From the gloomy surroundings, frogs creeled out a constant serenade.

He was led there by a woman, an elder in that particular village, who had first reported what turned out to be dragon activity in this small town. Lu Mingfei, Chu Zihang, and Caesar Gattuso were called to investigate. According to the report on the dossier, a young child in a red coat, carrying a red balloon could be seen standing at the edge of the village. His face was impossible to make out. Japanese towns could be full of local ghost tales, but this one occurred with disturbing regularity. EVA, the Cassell Supercomputer then detected an elemental anomaly. Plants seemed to be growing at such an incredible rate, that the rain clouds over this small area of Japan never seemed to stop. The rain would fall, the plants would soak it up and transpire the water again. It was as if the Amazon Rainforest took up residence in the far East.

After explaining about the child, the old woman took them out to that ramshackle ruin of a place. “If it’s that boy you’re seeking, why not try making him something to eat?”

Then she left.

“Guys I’m so over this ghost hunt. This is so creepy and the lower the sun gets the more I want to leave.” He said. He was wearing his usual combat suit, that skin tight but extremely durable wear that was close enough to the body to avoid catching on anything, but strong enough to withstand the cut of a knife. But was it ghost proof? Who was to say they wouldn’t get eaten by this ghost and the rice be left cold and moldy with no sign of them?

“Are you excited to be on an actual ghost hunt? It’s a shame that the ghost is a boy though.” Caesar sat smoking his cigar and looking out over the grey sheet of rain in front of him. He was dressed similarly, with his Desert Eagles at his side. Of course, he made a much more handsome figure in the muscle-hugging suit.

Lu Mingfei wanted to pull his hair out. “You’re engaged! Don’t lust after the dead you freak!”

Chu Zihang slid his sword part way out of his sheath to check his equipment. “There’s no such thing as the dead coming back to life, unless it’s a dragon. And dragons don’t really die. They just sleep until they can be reborn. What we’re looking for is not a real ghost… but something that has the properties of a dragon.”

“Ghost… dragon… whatever. Do we even know if it’s attracted to rice?”

“It’s not about the rice, Lu Mingfei, it’s the routine. If the boy had a family or cared for anyone at all, wouldn’t it miss sitting at a table with a family meal?” Caesar bit his cigar, 

“And we’re supposed to be its family huh? Who are you? The mom?” Mingfei shot back.

“Well…” Caesar looked down at the food. “I cooked it.”

Lu Mingfei opened his mouth to say something else but Zihang suddenly tensed. His golden eyes stared into another pair of golden eyes. A boy in a red raincoat, stood at the edge of the mossy pond. He was holding a red balloon. Only those glowing eyes were visible under the red hood. It didn’t seem to have a face.

Lu Mingfei’s face went white and then grey with terror. He shook so hard his teeth chattered “G-ghost!”

A small child’s voice echoed clear despite the pounding rain. “Outsiders. I need your help. Come with me.”

The rain suddenly stopped but the sky grew darker, like a great shadow from something large coming over head. The air suddenly cooled. They were still in front of the table but the garden was replaced by sand. The sand was grooved in artistic circles, like an elegant Japanese rock garden. Looking around, they seemed to be in a ruined ancient village. The piece of land they were standing on was floating in mid air, like it had been torn from the earth. There was no sun. The way was lit by ominous paper lanterns that floated in place, painted with a red swirl pattern. In the distance an ancient Japanese castle tower rose out of the misty horizon.

Torii gates were seen floating in the grey, foggy surroundings. Most were shattered. They seemed frozen in the middle of being demolished, their broken pieces spraying at odd angles, their elegant cross bars tilted, but they never collapsed. 

What was most noticeable about this place however, was the sudden sense of crushing sorrow. The feeling one got when they received some sort of horrible news. Like a loved one had just died. It hit Mingfei in the chest and took his breath away.  “Guys. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to …” Mingfei eyes filled with tears. “What’s happening. I’m so scared.” He hugged his own arms and tried to stop the tears from falling. “We’ve got to get out!” 

He turned to Chu Zihang who always knew what to do in times like this. But the man was frozen, his jaw tense and locked, staring at the ground in a trance, trying to control his out of control emotions. He was breathing fast and trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Apparently, sorrow drove Caesar Gattuso to action. He drew Dictator and pointed it up towards some broken stairs framed by a bright red Torii gate. Caesar suddenly roared. “This place sucks! Let’s get out of here as soon as we can. The only way out is up!”

His sudden yell seemed to break whatever emotional spell had been cast on the other two teammates. Lu Mingfei wiped his face. “What was that all about?”

“I’m not sure. Likely the owner of this place had a terrible life.” Chu Zihang said gravely. “I’ve heard of Longwei, the natural fear that dragons give off to other creatures, but I’ve never heard of a Dragon’s sorrow being projected like this.”

The stairs were floating over empty air, made of uneven, ancient grey limestone. There were dozens of stairs leading up into the ominous grey sky with broken Torii gates at intervals every twenty steps. Chu Zihang held up his hand to catch what appeared to be snow flying in the air. He sniffed at it. “Ash. Like something is burning. This must be some sort of Nibelungen. But I’ve never seen anything like it.” Chu Zihang said. “We should watch out. Where there’s a Nibelungen, there’s always…”

A sudden loud screeching interrupted him. A flock of bats the size of geese suddenly dislodged from under the stairs.  A whole flock of them swept forward in a single black cloud mass. Lu Mingfei ducked his head as the claws and teeth scraped at him. “I hate this place already!”

Caesar drew his pistols and fired. The bats were flapping and tilting and whirling, but he just needed to aim for just a moment before shooting one out of the air without missing. Likewise, Chu Zihang quickly slashed once and twice, neatly severing their bodies in two without trouble.

“Bats are better than snakes!” Caesar yelled, reloading his Desert Eagles.

“At least Snakes don’t fly!” Lu Mingfei yelled.

 As they climbed the stairs, they stayed back to the back, firing and slicing through the endless swarm of screaming bats. The sound of it was like a constant siren. Mingfei held his hands to his ears and allowed himself to be shielded by his two older students. He could hardly see anything between the endless assault of black bodies.

Caesar’s eyes glowed yellow. “There’s something big at the top of the stairs. That’s where they’re coming from!” He had sent out his Scythe Itachi and they returned with a huge heartbeat up ahead. “Chu Zihang, get rid of these things!”

“Get down.”  Chu Zihang closed his eyes for just a moment and then an evil snarl emanated from his throat. Black waves of heat drove back the bats and then exploded outward into violent flames. The bats were instantly set alight and hundreds of burning bodies folded their wings and fell into the endless pit below. Lu Mingfei didn’t even want to think of what it meant to fall down into that grey void. Would he just continue to fall forever?

“Eugh…” Caesar pinched his nose to escape the smell of burning flesh and hair.  “Good.” He said, reaching down at pulling Mingfei to his feet.

A loud roar shook the stairs and cracked them.  Then the stairs started to crumble, starting from the bottom. If they didn’t hurry, they would be the ones falling. “Run! Run!” Caesar yelled. 

Ahead of them was a large gap. The stairs were falling apart around them, coming to pieces, like the mortar that held them together suddenly lost all its strength. “We’ll have to jump it!”

It looked to be ten feet across over the nothingness. They’d never make a jump that far. But it was either try to jump or fall to their deaths anyway. Chu Zihang suddenly grabbed Lu Mingfei’s arm and without explanation took a leap and dragged him with him. For a moment, there was nothing but empty air under him. And then a sudden blast of heat and a loud boom! Chu Zihang used Royal Fire to blast himself over the gap, dragging the terrified Lu Mingfei the extra few feet needed. They landed and Lu Mingfei collapsed on shaky legs. “Are you out of your mind? You could have at least told me!” He gasped.

Chu Zihang looked at him with no expression. “You would have hesitated.”

Lu Mingfei froze. “I- n.- No…” Lu Mingfei looked away and then looked around. “Where’s Caesar?”

Caesar pulled himself up onto his arms. He was hanging from the ledge, having barely made the jump himself. He looked at Chu Zihang, annoyed. “Sure. Don’t mind me. I’ll just help myself up.”

His eyes suddenly widened at something behind Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei. They turned around and saw a looming snake with a thick human-like torso and bulging human arms. It glared at them with yellow eyes shining from the skull of an ancient predator it wore as a mask. It brandished a spear as long as a car with a sharp bone tip.

[artificialqueens]

Take You for a Ride (Crystal x Gigi) - Catrina

A/N: hi! it’s been a long while since i posted here. my mental health had a lot to do with that, but here i am again, hopefully as a better writter lmao. apparently i’m obsessed with gigi and crystal and since it’s still crystal’s birthday here i wrote this inspired by dua lipa’s levitating (thanks gigi’s performance at wtw tour). hope you enjoy it and share your thoughts with me. thanks for reading!

Summary: It’s Crystal’s birthday, and nothing comes out as she expects.

Disappointment. That’s the definition of Crystal’s day.

Disappointment and alcohol… maybe some red velvet cake Jan bought for her. She tastes the bitter liquid and sweet frosting in her mouth as she stumbles in her way to the backyard of Jaida’s house.

She’s sick. Sick and tired, of both the party behind her and her day in general. It had really worn her off, first with her teacher grading her project with a humiliating score of 67 points out of 100, then the ridiculous fight with her mother over the phone (she can still listen to the woman screaming at her if she focuses enough) and her cat destroying her One Direction album with her small and deathly paws, and now — oh fucking now, with some idiot pouring their drink all over her dress in a party that she didn’t even want to attend, or happen for that matter.

This isn’t how her birthday is supposed to be. This isn’t even how any birthday is supposed to be, in fact. Crystal doesn’t get how Jan could get to the conclusion that a party at Jaida’s house would make her feel better.

“It’ll be fun!” Jan had said. “You deserve to celebrate your birthday. I’m sure it’ll improve your mood!”

Spoiler: it didn’t.

Crystal feels just as miserable as she would feel in her dorm. Being in bed and watching bad tv was her original plan for today. Was too much to ask for? Why did she let her friends drag her to a party full of people she doesn’t even know?

Right, because Jan and Jaida had made her puppy eyes and Crystal felt terrible for rejecting such a gentle and thoughtful gesture from her friends.

She groans, sitting down on the grass of Jaida’s backyard and rubbing a tissue over the huge stain in the blue fabric of the area over her chest, groaning again when she realizes the stain isn’t moving at all.

Perhaps more miserable.

It’s a sequin blue dress she had purchased a while ago. It wasn’t really expensive, and it isn’t even her favorite, but fuck, it hurts. It’s like today everything in the universe accorded to make her feel terrible. She usually would shrug it off and continue as if nothing has happened, and she can’t quite understand why her natural sense of positivity can’t wash the sadness away.

Giving up, she tosses the tissue to a side and lets the upper part of her body give up to lie down completely on the grass. She’s lucky everyone else is inside, enjoying the music so loud it makes the whole house pound in rhythm, the intermittent lights that must hurt their eyes, the colorful drinks served by Jan and the closeness of dancing bodies rubbing against each other, so she doesn’t have to worry about someone going out and seeing her throwing a tantrum.

The party is a success. She shouldn’t ruin it with her bitter existence.

The sky is quiet tonight, with some stray stars and the moon shining bright. It makes Crystal breathe heavily, over and over again, until she’s sure she’ll be okay.

But, as her breathing regulates, imagines of every earlier moment when she felt everything but okay flash through her mind, and her lungs are not cooperating anymore.

Her heart feels heavy, stupidly hurt. She knows tomorrow her terrible grade will still be there, and her mother will still be pissed at her for whatever she even got mad about, and her favorite album will remained ruined and her fucking dress won’t be wearable anymore, and it’s fine, because she can make work for extra points to improve her final grade and text her mom an apology and replace the material stuff that isn’t even that important whatsoever, but that won’t help her stop feeling so helpless.

Helpless — that’s a good definition for her.

“Crystal?”

Gigi Goode looking down at Crystal interrupts her pathetic thoughts.

More than the interruption, her mere presence is what makes Crystal blink twice and wonder, for a brief moment, if she fell asleep on Jaida’s backyard grass and she’s dreaming.

She’s used to see Gigi everyday, but since today has been a short taste of hell, it wasn’t surprising when Gigi texted her to say she had to miss part of her classes and Jaida’s party because she needed to find someone to fix the broken temperature system in her apartment.

She hasn’t come to terms of how she feels about Gigi yet, and it’s not something she would like to do at all. For the past two months, Crystal has noticed the way her heart starts pounding violently in her chest when Gigi smiles at her, or takes her hand to lead her through the corridors or when she simply looks at her with those big eyes full of emotion and it’s ridiculous but somehow fitting that the only person she craved to see today was the one she couldn’t.

“What are you doing here?” Gigi tries again at her lack of response, not hesitating to offer her hand to help her up.

Crystal takes her hand without thinking (she doesn’t do a lot of thinking in Gigi’s presence) and lets her pull her up in a sitting position.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking what are you doing here? I thought said your temperature system was giving trouble.”

Gigi chuckles, crouching to be at the same height as her.

“Well, I really wanted to come and Heidi said she could manage it. The girl knows about mechanics, did you know that?”

Crystal shakes her head, breathing out a laugh. “I never would’ve guessed.”

Gigi hums thoughtfully. “Well, she does, thank fuck, because I really wanted to see you, birthday girl.”

Heat creeps up to Crystal’s face incredibly fast, leaving her cursing the power something so small can have over her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I asked Jan where you were, actually. She said some dickhead poured all his drink on you and you were probably in the bathroom but you weren’t there.”

Crystal opens her mouth to vent about her now ruined dress, frowning as soon as a different thought crosses her mind. “But there are like five bathrooms here. You went all around the house looking for me?”

Confused, Gigi nods. “Is that weird?”

It’s extremely sweet, is Crystal’s first answer.

“No, of course not,” she giggles instead. “But why were you looking for me?”

Gigi looks suddenly flushed, as if she was caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“Well, I…” she tears her eyes away from Crystal to look at the party behind her through the glass doors. “What happened to you?”

The change of topic takes Crystal aback.

“What? What about me?”

“Yeah, you’re here all alone, looking like a child who dropped their candy, when you’re usually a little happy ball, and in your birthday,” Gigi remarks, although not harshly. “Had a bad day?”

Crystal hates this how easy is for Gigi to read her. She knows she looks terrible, beside her dress the signals of her terrible day surely mark her face in dark bags under her eyes and pale tired skin, but Gigi has always had a talent to read her beyond that. The simple fact makes her feel even more embarrassed.

“A horrible one,” she finally confesses in a low whine. “A straight up disgusting, draining, fucked up, impossible day! And, I know I shouldn’t feel so pressed about it, but birthdays are supposed to be happy and I — I am not. At least not now.”

Gigi snickers, taking Crystal’s hand in her own to give it an affectionate squeeze.

“It’s okay to have bad days. Now, to have a bad birthday is really fucked up, but it is what it is. Wanna tell me about it?”

“I’m not really in the mood of talking about me being mediocre in life,” Crystal means to joke more than to actually vent, and she loves the way Gigi giggles.

“Dramatic much?”

“Oh,” Crystal’s eyebrows raise as she laughs. “I can be more dramatic.”

But Gigi doesn’t laugh along this time. She purses her lips, and then stands up, offering her hand to Crystal again.

“Let’s go.”

Crystal looks puzzled. She takes Gigi’s hand, allowing her to pull her back on her feet. With her hand still covered by the other girl’s, Gigi begins dragging her back to the house.

“Where are we going?”

“Let’s go for a ride,” Gigi suggests, looking back over her shoulder just to give her a smile that reassures everything.

In the middle of the dark since the backyard lights don’t reach there, the path changes; Gigi takes Crystal through a small hallway that connects the porch with the patio to the front of the house. They meet a few people in the way; some passed out on the ground, others drinking in their friends and some couples making out. Crystal turns to watch them before she realizes they’re crossing the garden.

“Gigi,” she breathes as she spots the motorbike parked on the sidewalk.

The blonde reaches in the pocket of her jacket, her hand still on Crystal’s. She finally pulls out her keys and twirls them on a finger.

“Every time I’m sad, or mad… or high,” she grimaces and Crystal laughs, “I get on this thing and ride away. It usually works to clear my mind and calm me down, so I thought it could work on you too.”

Crystal feels something very close to gratitude. Instead, she knows it’s pure adoration for one called Gigi Goode.

“Okay,” excitement starts filling her face as she smiles. “Oh my god, I’ve never been close to a motorcycle before, wow!”

Gigi laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’ve literally seen it everywhere with me.”

“I know, but—” she eagerly motions to Gigi and then to the motorcycle. “I always see it as, I dunno, part of you. Like, yeah, there’s Gigi and her bike, you know? I’ve never seen it up close.”

Gigi’s light hearted laugh is the answer she receives again. “Well, now is your chance.”

The motorcycle shines in its black neat color, with not a single particle of dust on it or sign of being neglected; Gigi’s perfectionist personality reflecting. Crystal finds herself so absorbed by its beauty that she doesn’t realize when Gigi lets go of her hand and gets on the bike, using her legs to adjust herself as she takes the two helmets from the space behind her on the seat to make room for Crystal.

She reaches forward to pull the key in the ignition, and it only takes a firm move from her hand for the motor to start growling. The sound makes Crystal gasp.

“You think you can get on? I don’t want you to fall,” Gigi warns, but Crystal is already jumping behind her.

Of course, the gravity plays a cruel trick and she has to grab onto Gigi’s jacket to prevent her from sliding off, but Gigi doesn’t seem to care as she snuggles closer. She offers one of the helmets to Crystal, smiling.

“Safety first.”

“This is so pretty,” she drawls, passing her fingers over the shiny, baby pink surface of the helmet.

“Thanks. Heidi suggested me to get it customized that way,” Gigi comments as she puts her own helmet, of a white color, on. “She’s pretty much the only person who I give a ride, so I thought, why not?”

A tinge of jealousy pops in Crystal’s chest, but she forces herself to ignore it as she notices Gigi reaching over the hand grips, preparing herself to move. She rushes to put the helmet on and forces the image of Heidi taking her spot behind Gigi to fade away.

“You’ll probably resent the motion, so please hug my waist as hard as you can and hold your legs onto the sides of the seat,” says Gigi, so easily it makes Crystal think it’s something she has memorized. “I’ll go slowly anyway, since it’s your first time.”

Crystal complies immediately; she wraps her arms around Gigi’s waist and the stupid butterflies in her stomach seem to fly all the way up to her throat, suffocating her for a second, until she realizes it’s just Gigi’s perfume.

Fuck, she thinks bitterly. She smells really good.

The short heel of Gigi’s boot kicks on something at the same time she rotates the key one more time, and the motor growls fiercely.

They start moving — it’s almost magical. At first, Crystal can’t really feel it. It starts as such a gentle motion, but when she looks around, she sees Jaida’s house becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, and the houses around moving around them. That’s when it hits her; they’re moving.

Gigi speeds up once they’re out of the block, turning on the left and then right and moving smoothly until they’re exiting the neighborhood, but Crystal doesn’t mind in following their path.

She’s too busy giggling at the wind hitting her face and making her hair twirl, creating ginger waves at the sides of her head.

The world around them is moving so fast, and all she can recognize in the city at night are deformed street lights and bright colors everywhere she looks at; everything seems so distant but so close at the same time as they slide on the asphalt, and the late life of Los Angeles never looked so appealing.

Nothing seems important now. Her grade, the fight with her mother, her album nor her fucking dress. Her mind is full of Gigi; of her beautiful hair, her endearing voice, her flawless face and how soft she feels under Crystal’s hands; almost as if she belongs there, in her arms.

If Crystal wasn’t starting to feel dizzy for the speed, she would probably never think such a thing; her feelings for Gigi are something unexplored and feared, threatening to destroy their friendship because Gigi is everything and Crystal is barely something that exists. And Crystal isn’t ready to lose her.

It’s the little things, like the fact she went all around the house looking for Crystal or that she even wanted to see her, that she thought of a way to cheer her up, that make Crystal’s stomach coil and tie itself in a too tight knot that won’t probably never be the same. Gigi has some kind of security aura around her that, as Crystal learned, was impossible to ignore. She’s confident, sure, but there’s something more to that attitude; something that demands to be trusted under that bitch façade. She’s kind and loving and funny, and if Crystal has to swallow her feelings to make sure Gigi is always at her side, then she will.

As they speed up into a steady pace, Crystal notices how Gigi relaxes and leans back into her just a little, and without a second thought she leans on her as well.

“You okay back there?” Gigi asks, voice muffed by the violent wind and motor growling under them.

“Yeah!” Crystal exclaims. “Oh my god, Gigi! This is amazing!”

“Wait until you see this!”

Crystal is about to ask what she means, when they turn into an empty street, where a tunnel leans out. There are no more cars or motorcycles around them and Gigi speeds up even more as they approach the tunnel, lights flying around them.

A raw “puff!” echoes in their ears as they storm into the tunnel, and Crystal laughs as she feels the force the motorcycle is traveling through it. She feels light, like the butterflies flying around her stomach, levitating at the right speed and watching the world around them as secondary.

Gigi starts slowing down at the middle of the tunnel.

“Hold your arms up,” she tells Crystal, eyes locked at the front. “Just for a second, so you can feel the wind.”

At first Crystal hesitates, but the speed is steady and there are no more vehicles around, so she slowly pulls her arms away from Gigi.

She raises both arms, wriggling them at her sides. She makes a quick mental note to remind herself to thank Gigi later, because the air hugs her limbs in a way that almost tickles her, the soft touch running on her naked arms and she closes her eyes for a moment, wondering if she could fall asleep like this.

Of course, when the motorcycle runs over a bump and she has to hold on Gigi’s torso to avoid jumping out of the seat, that idea is quickly denied.

“Oh, right,” Gigi laughs. “I should’ve warned you about that.”

Crystal huffs, sleep knocked out of her as they leave the tunnel behind.

The rest of the way is calm; Gigi decides to go slow this time, so Crystal has the chance to see everything in a clear way (according to her, it’s very important to appreciate the view) and Crystal takes the moment to rest her chin on Gigi’s shoulder and wrap her arms around her middle, just like before, but this time without the messy rush of fearing being thrown out of the motorcycle by a bump.

The proceed to threat a way through town messily, going around buildings and onto streets Crystal doesn’t even know, but Gigi moves skillfully, like she knows exactly where she’s going, and Crystal trusts her. Soon she noticed that Gigi actually knows where they going.

She recognizes her surroundings as they approach the apartment complex where Gigi and Heidi live. She’s always complained saying that her place is small, but the few times Crystal has come over, she’s loved the cozy feeling that takes over her as soon as she crosses the door, which makes her feel even more excited.

Gigi parks carefully on a spot near the front gates. She pulls the key out and the motor shuts down, as she leans back with a pleased smile.

“I didn’t ask you if you wanted to come here, but I thought you didn’t want to go back,” she whispers, barely having to turn around to see Crystal’s face resting on her shoulder blade.

“You thought correctly,” Crystal sighs with content before a thought crosses her mind, making her gasp. “Shit, I gave Jan my phone before going out—”

Gigi reaches on the inside pocket of her jacket, pulling out Crystal’s phone.

“She gave it to me when I asked for you,” she explains to a stunned Crystal. “She thought we would leave together eventually.”

“How smart,” Crystal mumbles.

She unlocks it while Gigi takes her helmet off, noticing the time; almost two in the morning. She tugs on Gigi’s sleeve, pointing at the screen.

“It’s late, won’t Heidi be pissed if we come in? She could be sleeping.”

“The girl wouldn’t wake up even if a rock fell in her head,” Gigi rolls her eyes, gesturing for Crystal to take her helmet off as well. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Crystal shrugs as she does so, too wrapped in the thought of spending more time with Gigi to care. She gets back on her feet with a little jump, following her inside the building as they carry the helmets with them. Gigi talks about her day while they’re making their way to the third floor through the stairs, blame the elevator that never came back to the lobby, by Crystal’s request. She wanted to know how she had been doing while she was miserable, and Gigi complies, walking through the empty building.

“I noticed this temperature thing was broken because, c’mon, California will never be hot enough to make fucking ice cream almost boil,” she says just when they walk into the right corridor, Crystal trailing behind her. “It was a nightmare, everything was so fucking hot. I hope Heidi could fix it.”

The metal of her keys knocking makes the only sound that fills the air as Gigi opens the door. She reaches for the switch and the small living room lights up, cool air receiving them.

“She fixed it,” Crystal muses, smiling.

“God bless her,” Gigi sighs, taking off her boots. “Could you leave your shoes by the door and the helmet over the coffee table please?”

Crystal steps on the soft carpet on her short blue socks, watching as Gigi makes her way to Heidi’s bedroom door. She opens it just enough to poke her head inside. After exchanging a few words with her roommate, she turned back to Crystal, closing the door behind her.

“Heidi was just going to sleep.”

“Oh,” Crystal’s eyebrows raise. “Tell her hi?”

“I’m not sure she’ll appreciate me bothering her again,” she giggles. Her mouth opens again, but she closes it seconds after, thinking for a second on what to say. Finally, she gestures at the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”

The apartment is small, Gigi’s right. The living room has barely enough space for a couch and a coffee table and is too close to the kitchen. The bathroom is that white door carelessly next to the television hanging on the wall, and Crystal bets Gigi and Heidi’s rooms are just as small, although she has never seen them. The few times she has been there, with Jaida and Jan, they simply preferred to stick to the couch and a barstool they would drag from the kitchen.

Gigi’s room suddenly becomes source of her curiosity, but she nods, remembering Gigi’s question.

“We’ve got a great menu tonight, in honor of your birthday,” Gigi hums as Crystal sits on one of the stools of the kitchen bar. She opens the fridge, eyeing the content blocked to Crystal’s view by the fridge door. “We have… well, we’ve got beer, and pretty much nothing else.”

Crystal laughs. “Beer! Just what I wanted!”

Gigi is beaming under the kitchen lights as she tosses her a beer and takes another one for herself, nonchalantly kicking the fridge closed. She leans a hip on the kitchen bar, worryingly close to Crystal, and holds her beer up.

“Cheers,” she clicks their cans together.

“Cheers,” Crystal repeats. She stops right before taking a sip, frowning. “But what are we exactly cheering for?”

Sipping her drink, Gigi breathes out a laugh.

“You just killed the moment, babe.”

Babe. Crystal’s ears burn with the name, and she attempts to conceal her surprise by pretending she’s genuinely confused.

“Well, who cares?” Gigi shrugs, holding her beer up again. “Here’s to terrible birthdays, a broken temperature system, and…”

“Motorcycles,” Crystal fills in for her.

“Yeah,” Gigi grins at her. “Motorcycles.”

Crystal leans back to take a long sip of her drink, savoring the slightly bitter taste going down her throat. She notices Gigi staring at her when she places the beer back over the bar, with the ghost of a smile on her glossy lips.

“What?”

“What,” Gigi repeats, snickering.

“You’re looking at me,” Crystal points out, smiling to cover her worsening blush.

“I like looking at you,” the blonde simply says, as if it’s obvious. “I always wanna look at you.”

“That’s creepy. Do I need to call the cops?”

Far from looking bothered, Gigi shrugs. “Who knows. Maybe.”

Crystal scowls with no genuine annoyance, but her face softens as Gigi’s smile somehow widens.

“You’re weird, miss Goode. I thought being weird was my gig,” she jokes, making Gigi throw her head back in laughter.

Internally, Crystal is praying this moment never ends. Seeing Gigi under the dim lights of her kitchen, toying with that beer and looking so effortlessly gorgeous is having the same effect as when she was feeling the air hit her face on the motorcycle, and her head already feels lost in space, far away from the apartment.

“Why were you looking for me earlier?” Crystal asks, voice small.

The intimate atmosphere created around the two is beginning to feel suffocating. Crystal can feel Gigi so close, like she’s the only real part of a dream and the rest of the world was nothing but a wallpaper for her wonderful figure to stand in front of and lead Crystal through the rest of the night.

“Nothing,” Gigi doesn’t even look taken aback by the sudden question.

“Oh, c’mon. It can’t be nothing,” she whines as Gigi takes another sip, purposely taking a long fucking time doing so. “Gigi, c’mon. Tell me!”

She leans forward, making her lower lip stick out in an exaggerated pout. It seems to work catching Gigi’s attention since her whole face seems decomposed when she glances over.

“Don’t do that.”

Crystal frowns. “Do what?”

“Don’t pout.”

“Why not?” she quirks en eyebrow.

“Because it makes me wanna kiss it off your lips,” Gigi deadpans. She takes a final sip from her beer before walking to the fridge again, not minding if Crystal just froze on her spot.

Crystal laughs nervously, trying to convince herself she just misheard. Her heart is beating so fast on er chest, if she watched any medical tv show she might be worried for it to pop out of her body through her nose at any second.

As time passes, she wonders if that’s possible.

“What did you say?”

Gigi sighs, returning with another two beers. She looks uncharacteristically shy, sheepishly placing the new beer in front of Crystal, eyes glued to the carpet.

“This is dumb,” she blurts.

“Gigi—”

But Gigi leans in to kiss her, and suddenly any word forming in Crystal’s head dissolves.

It’s slow and tentative at first, but any doubt disappears when Crystal’s hands move to cup Gigi’s face, pulling her even closer.

She feels light. So light, like when she was holding her arms up in the tunnel to feel the wind, and everything moved so far away from her, she felt ethereal. And now, moving her lips against Gigi’s and feeling the texture of her lipstick between them makes her wonder how Gigi can make such raw sentiments be born in her, riding a goddamn motorcycle or kissing her in the tiny kitchen of her apartment.

Gigi’s hands are tight at the sides of her waist, tugging a little tighter as she pulls back to grab some air.

“That’s why I was looking for you earlier,” she confesses after a while of comfortable silence.

Crystal feels pulled out from a deep trance… or rid over by a bus. Whatever sounds romantic as she stares at the blonde’s deep blue eyes and runs her fingers over her shoulders.

“I think I’ve felt this way with you for a while… I mean, you’re pretty, and I have eyes, so I can tell that you’re pretty,” Gigi continues and if Crystal wasn’t focusing on breathing she would’ve laughed, “I thought that I could keep it friendly, but this morning, when I knew the temperature system was broken and I couldn’t make it to class or the party, I was so pissed. I didn’t wanna let you down.”

The butterflies in Crystal’s stomach have eaten her tongue. Yes, that’s why she’s speechless.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Gigi finally asks and everything fits in Crystal’s head.

“Why would I be mad at you? You’ve literally described how I feel for the last semester with this crush I have on you,” Crystal blurts out.

Before regrets covers her entire face, she notices Gigi raising an eyebrow, with a smirk threatening to form on her lips.

“Last semester, huh? That much?”

“Shut up,” Crystal tries to sound pissed, she really does, but with Gigi being so close, her blushing cheeks betray her initial expression.

“Don’t be embarrassed, you’re flattering me.”

They both laugh. A warm feeling spreads across Crystal’s chest at the fact.

“This day… it was hell,” she mumbles, and almost smiles at how Gigi looks at her, having her entire attention, “and I also was thinking of you. It was weird… like, as I said before, birthdays are supposed to be happy and while I was sad and grumpy I couldn’t help but think ‘I wish Gigi was here, because she would make everything better; she’d make me laugh or help me or just make me feel like I’m not alone’ and I hated the idea of not getting to see—”

“The love of your life?” Gigi suggests, sounding way too hopeful.

“I was gonna say that blonde bitch,” Crystal grimaces, “but if that works for you…”

Gigi laughs, mumbling something about who was the real bitch is as she reaches over for her second beer.

Leaning her side on the kitchen bar, freshly open can in hand, Gigi smiles again. It’s a show of her teeth and little wrinkles at the sides of her eyes that Crystal remembers noticing the day they met that morning at History of Art class.

Glancing at that very smile, Crystal’s pretty sure she’s dreaming. Did she fall asleep on Jaida’s lawn? That’d be pathetic. Someone could think she’s dead tomorrow morning when everyone’s hung over and oh, the idea frightens her, but she has to be dreaming. She can’t be this lucky — she’s never been lucky. What are the chances someone like Gigi can have a crush on her?

This flawless, beautiful girl with a golden personality that Crystal’s been making heart-eyes at for months has a crush on her.

God, she thinks. If I fell asleep Jan better never wakes me up.

“Crystal?”

The redhead blinks a couple of times, meeting Gigi’s eyes in the process.

“You were lost in thought, babe. You alright?”

The fucking pet name again. Crystal isn’t dreaming; her brain wouldn’t be mean enough to make up scenarios like this.

“Was I? Sorry.”

That’s not the answer Gigi wants. She drags the other barstool from the other side of the kitchen bar to Crystal’s side, sitting down with her beer still in hand.

“Stop overthinking.”

It’s not a suggestion. Crystal attempts to laugh, but no actual sound comes out of her mouth.

“Well, I can’t,” she babbles, “it’s hard. This doesn’t feel real.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” she whispers, more to herself than to the other girl. “I always thought that you were…  romantically different than me.”

Gigi looks utterly confused. “Please elaborate?”

The butterflies are not dead. They’re flying around Crystal’s stomach now, begging her to not fuck it up.

“I never thought you’d feel the same,” she admits, too quietly for her taste.

Vulnerability is not a good look on her, she has decided years before, and definitely not in front of Gigi. She has all the time in the world to be a cry baby in the comfortable privacy of her dorm, not right now, for Christ’s sake.

“This is real,” Gigi gestured at herself, then at Crystal. “We’re real. Everything is. I can’t understand why you’re so impressed about it, but I know for sure it’s not enough of a reason.”

Crystal nods. Gigi’s right, as always, and she’s just wasting time questioning why has her day taken the path it did instead of enjoying it.

“I’m just being stupid.”

Gigi rolls her eyes, pulling her again for another kiss — a shorter one, but Crystal can’t help but try and memorize how her lips feel against hers. She’s never stopped and think of how it would be to kiss Gigi, and she’s somehow glad; none of her expectations would have been better than the real thing.

“I like you stupid,” Gigi comments once they part, receiving a smack on the arm by Crystal. “You know I’m kidding; you’re never stupid, but I do like you.”

“I like you too,” Crystal breathes, feeling every of her limbs relaxing. Gigi doesn’t say more, and maybe it’s the end of their conversation, but there’s something else forming in Crystal’s throat and before she knows it, she blurts out, “thank you.”

Gigi looks up, puzzled. “For what?”

“For the ride. It was the best birthday present ever.”

Under the dim lights of a small kitchen in an even smaller apartment somewhere in Los Angeles, Crystal knows there’s nothing better than Gigi Goode.

[common-blackbird]

it’s time... for a dragon age 2 playthrough post. scroll on!

The things i loved most:

1) the frame of the game - Cassandra interrogating Varric.

What a great way to get hook the player. Like, the opening of guards dragging this poor dwarf with cuts of the title, and then Cassandra demanding answers... Whoaaa! I have no idea if that’s usually done in games or not, but it’s definitely such an amazing intro with characters introducing themselves as well as the story so perfectly, it captivates instantly. The tutorial has a charm to it bc varric is messing around. Which serves to show more of his character. Cassandra’s personality was pretty much blank here but her presence is so powerful. Something happened, something huge and they know and i was about to find out. I can’t describe how excited that intro made me feel. Each time the scene cut to the interrogation scenes, my eyes were glued more than ever. Just GREAT.

Also it makes for a very convenient scapegoat for every plothole ever with the argument “it’s just his version of the story”.

2) The story.

It’s tragic. It’s amazing! The further you play, the more you can see that no matter what you do, everything leads to a disaster. Hawke doesn’t want to take sides, tries to mediate, does not want to get involved, but just can’t stop it. For every thing gained, Hawke loses two more. Your friends come with packages that get you involved in terrible stuff. Your good intentions result in disasters. The whole game you spent time climbing  the social ladder not only to reach the top hauntingly alone after losing all of your family, but also losing even that empty title and watching as the city you started to find your place in fall apart in blood. UGH! GAH! FEELS!

3) Kirkwall.

“ But, I beg you my dear readers, never forget that, no matter the subject of any story that might ever be explored between the cliffs of Kirkwall, She will find a way to steal the thunder of the protagonist. Or become the antagonist. Kirkwall is never a mere background. We could even understand it so: the challenge for you dear readers is to prevail against the smokescreens and observe to what extent our characters are players or played by the merciless black souled stone giant. Enjoy playing the dare of the ages between the lines of these humble memoirs. “

Memoirs from the Downfall - Act I. Mirage    by Pfefferminze on ao3 (fic rec!)

This paragraph summs up what Kirkwall is better than I ever could. This shrouded mystery that surrounds Kirkwall keeps you on toes. From the first intro when Varric describes it (paraphrasing from memory) “Kirkwall. The city of chains. It is a free city - keeping in mind i use the  the word loosely”. You already start seeing how dark Kirkwall gets. The name, that derives from its black walls (interestingly, the walls in the game aren’t black...), the history of slavery etched into every corner of that city  and its surroundings - the names (The Gallows, the Bone Pit, the Wounded Coast, the pub The Hanged Man), the scenery (sculptures of slaves, the sunken ships by the Wounded Coast, slums and underground of the Lowtown and the Darktown).

I was really digging the History of Kirkwall and it loved it. Kirkwall has a history of violence, from the times of slavery of the Tevinter Imperium, to Qunari conquests and liberation from Orlais. Many revolts and uprising. And though free now, it’s suggested that, seeing that the Templars hold the most influence, Kirkwall is in the hands of the Chantry.

It’s full of cultures mixing together. I love how not one of your companions is a native to Kirkwall, and it feels like a crossroads to every character’s life. a very tragic crossroads in their life, seeing there’s nothing ever good waiting for you in Kirkwall.

Also there’s these codex entries you look for about the Enigma of Kirkwall. It was when i started digging that up that i fell in love with the city and all. Combined with the History of Kirkwall and every codex entry for every place in and out of Kirkwall, I was pulling my hair out reading about the Enigma. I..i’m still not quite sure what happened. Did the magisters use blood of thousands upon thousands slaves to unbound a forgotten one? if so, is that corypheus? And around what time did that happen?? I get that part (or all?) of Kirkwall’s mysterious violent agency is owed to corypheus slumbering relatively close to the city, but is that all? or is there something more? In either case, the Band of Tree are my heroes.

4) The characters.

I’ll talk more about them later, but in general, i just love how they oppose each other, how complex they are, and there is just not pleasing everyone. They feel genuine. They are all deeply flawed. They all have a solid background that makes their beliefs and actions convincing. The friendship/rivalry points are shaky though, and sometimes really don’t fit the character, but i guess there must be someone hating/loving your bad choices for the sake of the game regardless of characterisation. But all in all, i really appreciated each and every character, and loved how their viewpoints challenged me.

First i want a disclaimer: i love each and every character in the game, whatever i say against them doesn’t diminish my liking of them. My issues really aren’t significant. Also, i might and probably will say smth wrong bc i’ve only played it once. I’m a baby.

let’s start with Family:

Mama Hawke:

i really loved mama hawke. after reading her codex entry and an excerpt of some book on this site, i really feel for her. I mean, imagine going back to your home city where you only remember being respected and wealthy only to find out everything you remember is gone, you are forced to live in poverty, your kids are doing dangerous jobs and you can’t stop them bc you do need that money, you write letters trying to get the old connections but keep failing (at least it was implied?), it’s really been hard for her. I get why she was so obsessed with her legacy. She wanted her childhood home back. She can’t feel like Kirkwall is her home until she is home.

Also loved her antagonism towards Hawke. It seems she can no longer treat him like a child, so she criticises him instead. and honestly, hawke is doing some crazy things so he defintiely deserves some criticism. And stopping Hawke from taking carver with him is just logical to me, idk. since she knows she can’t stop Hawke from going, she will at least attempt to prevent the last kid from going into mortal danger. I’d do the same. AND AFTER HAVING CARVER DYING IN DEEP ROADS I AGREE WITH HER

All in all, i don’t think she’s a perfect mom, but there is no perfect mom, and Leandra does care a lot for her kids. The All that remains killed me too :’(

Bethany

RIP :(

Her codex is not long, but i guess she wasn’t happy with her magic :(

CARVER

My favouritest bestest bro in the game. A secondary character with an inferiority complex towards his sibling, with no sense of humour, blaming everyone else for his inability to get a life? I see a lot of myself in him.  He is sooo bitter, but doesn’t even realise (or at least doesn’t admit) that he’s his biggest obstacle. He feels like it’s Hawke’s fault for Carver not getting his place in the sun, but honestly, it’s Carver’s devotion to Hawke that keeps him from getting a life. He’s just tied with that responsibility and can’t break from it unless forced to.

His interactions with other characters are so funny. Either he’s bitter or he’s awkward, i die every time ;;__;;

Anyways, he became a templar in my game and i thought it fits better thematically (throughout the game the grey wardens felt more like a fanservice material since they really aren’t connected to the story), but after reading that meta about carver and seeing the striking difference between warden!carver and templar!carver i wanna reload and redo everything ;;__;;

i mean... carver isn’t exactly a templar material. The codex entry for templars says that the wanted characteristics of templars are strong faith and utmost  obedience, none of which carver really has... . But that moment when he stands up against meredith was *chefs kiss* worth it. I’m just wondering what happens after, is he still a templar? is he with hawke? is he in Kirkwall or if not, where did he go?? so many questions ;A;

Uncle Gamlen

I feel bad for him. Mostly he’s mean but i like to think it’s bc he’s so ashamed that his sister sees what he’s become. And he’s bitter about his own life. I was so happy when i realised he has a personal mission ;__; I feel bad that he didn’t come to live in the hawke estate tho, especially since Hawke is also alone there :(

COMPANIONS!

Varric

There are no words that can properly convey the amount of love for this guy. He is simply flawless. He’s a charming godfather of the dwarven mafia. I wanna have a charming godfather of the dwarven mafia in my life... He already becomes interesting with the intro, and i gotta say, out of all ~storyteller~ types of characters, he is the best. he puts a disclaimer at the beginning with that game tutorial, and during the whole interrogation he’s like “well, how do you know i’m not lying? i could be.” Also, his voice is the second best voice in the game. 

As for his personal missions, oh wow, that thing with his big bro really hurt. I also gave him the red lyrium... was that a mistake? will i regret it? ;__; I know the true friend would prevent him, but i also trust that varric knows how to handle dangerous stuff...

On a side note, since i’ve read the comics (no self control whatsoever), i loved the beginning of the Until We Sleep, where varric mentions it’s easier to imagine all the people he had to kill were evil than to face the fact that those were normal people just doing their job or trying to survive. Man, it hurts TAT

*garret hawke’s voice when he looks a certain way at the family crest in the hawke estate* ISABELA!

Ok ok, so, i love Carver bc i relate,  i love Varric because he’s simply perfect. But I love Isabela because she’s the most intriguing.

She just crashed in Kirkwall and really didn’t sign up for all the trouble she got. She never likes to have deep conversations, she is always downgrading herself and you just wonder, what is it that happened in her life, and you know her past mistakes haunt her, and she’s doing her best to move on. Her arc was i think my favourite. I think the comic Those Who Speak really adds a lot to her arc in DA2 and makes some of her choices more understandable. Her whole story is about her internal conflict of whether to survive or do the right thing. Her story about freeing the slaves got her ship wrecked is great and all for making her be a pirate with a golden heart, but that story about her drowning all the slaves few years previous make this freeing of slaves a big character moment for her. She finally did the right thing. And she got for it was more trouble, because she’s a pirate which means she can’t afford to just do the right thing. And throughout the game, that same story is going back and forth. She runs off with the Relic bc she’s done the right thing before and it got her nowhere, so now she decided to put her own survival as a priority, but comes back bc she’s too kind to just leave Hawke standing like that. And again, with the slaver papers, it’s the same reasoning: it’s her or the higher cause. She needs that ship. She chooses herself. It’s her biggest flaw. But hey, between pros and antis in your party, it was really refreshing to have someone who, along with varric, just gives you a break with moral high-grounds.

I only wish we actually got to see her more as a captain in power in the game or that she showed me that amazing hat she saw in lowtown. It’s cool that it’s implied that her crew doesn’t like her and she also lost most of them during the crash while the others probably left her after.

I love it when she says she goes sometimes to the docks just to watch the ships. That there is no feeling like sailing. I just want a spin-off with captain isabela’s terrible adventures (´A`)

Also, isabela’s VA is my fave, she really did an amazing job. she voices so smoothly, i wouldn’t know if i was playing a game or watching a movie. And has such a pretty way of talking...

Aveline

I’m really neutral towards Aveline. I like her personality and i like that she’s found herself a purpose and advanced in the guards, and she’s always looking out for everybody. I just wish her personal missions went in the vein of the one in act 1... i feel it would have been more interesting to see her having trouble in her position and that you can’t just waltz into Kirkwall and take command. It’s implied she’s being pressured, so i guess she’s just dealing with it herself, but i just... eh. She’s ok.

Merrill

Merrill actually has one of the if not the most tragic story-line that really challenges you both morally and emotionally. 

Her cheerful and cute personality is dampened by her constant dark leitmotif of willingly practicing blood magic. And i think her story really showed well the indirect consequences of it.

Not in one instance was Merrill’s practice of blood magic an active culprit for all tragedy that surrounds her. First, it seems that blood magic is practiced in the clan, seeing there is no freeing Flemeth without it, but i’m guessing it’s seldom practiced and with great caution. So Merrill wasn’t in any danger of being prosecuted for her blood magic. It’s actually her wish to study it further with the help of the demon that makes her an outcast. That and the magic mirror that apparently is forgotten for a reason. Also, it’s made quite clear that Merrill would be welcomed back no questions asked if she at any point decided to ditch the demon and live without the study of magic mirror. She, on the other side, is driven by the higher cause, the idea that figuring out the forgotten purpose of some evil mirror might help her clan, and is willing to be an outcast if it means reaching her goal and helping her clan. Fast foward to act 3, the clan is still there when they should have moved away, and it’s only when you face the demon possessed Keeper, you realise why. She knew Merrill would sooner or later bargain with the demon again. And she sacrificed herself, trapping the demon within her, as to prevent it. And i think that is why the clan stayed so long there. She waited for Merrill because she wanted Merrill to kill her, and hopefully with her the demon. It didn’t go as planned, obviously, but i really think she had good intentions. When Merrill does manage to kill the Keeper she’s forced to face the clan and i chose the wrong option of telling the truth which resulted in a massacre. Merrill gets back and regrets everything. She, however resolves to help the alienage.

The thing is, there is no one to blame Everyone had the best intentions. Everyone is working for the safety of the clan. it’s a story of sacrifice and when sacrifice feels like the wrong choice (whether it truly is or isn’t depends on your worldview) and it’s really done well.

But here are my issues with Merrill. I love her as a character, but i don’t agree with her decisions.  It’s a personal issue. Merrill is giving up everything as to help her clan by learning history of the evil mirror. And while this is a game where old things are important and significant, her mission is always explained as this duty of preserving history. And while i agree that preserving history is very important, there is a limit to it. you should never put history before the present. If your research endangers the present, you give up on that line. The other is that you need to make peace with the fact that many, many things are forgotten and will be forgotten. It’s sad, but you gotta make peace with the fact that some things are just gone.

And Merrill, who is a magic historian, fails to see that. So that kinda irks my historian moral codex. And in the end, as far as i know, Merrill doesn’t succeed in reviving the evil mirror and dedicates herself to help the alienage. It was a terrible way to learn that some things aren’t worth it.

The other, less personal issue, is that none of this had to happen. I mean, the keeper obviously didn’t think Merrill was experienced enough to actually deal with demons and therefore distrusted her and warned the clan about it. So, if Merrill was a little bit more patient she could have just studied normally under the keeper, and when she herself becomes the keeper, she could have fraternize with that demon however she wanted without much complications. So yeah... i guess youth is made of idealism.

But as i said, minor issues. Her story is really, really great.

Fenris

Fenris and Anders are my “i love you but i am soo annoyed by you but i still love you” characters. Half of the time they’re just there to make you feel guilty for being a neutral party. Which sometimes has me rolling my eyes. If Fenris and Anders actually got along with each other, slavery and mage oppression would have ended in 2 days. Which makes it all the more frustrating that they do not.

Fenris.. his voice. What a nice voice colour. So elegant, but kinda rough, sometimes he talks like he’s 80 years old, sometimes like he’s a teenager. I love it.

As for the rest, i mean, i don’t agree with his methods, but very often, the guy’s got a point. I get his experience with mages colours his view on them, so while i symphatise, it’s really hard to have him on my “free mages” missions when he’s my best tank and i want him to be on friendly terms with Hawke so this makes things... difficult. That aside, it’s interesting that fenris doesn’t see mages as evil per se, but rather victims who, in his experience, will always, always going to succumb to a demon. It’s an inevitable reality to him. And this makes me wonder if he ultimately, despite being his friend or lover, is just waiting for the day he will be forced to kill Hawke too :(

As for his missions, they were ok, it led up to culmination and i didn’t let him kill his sister bc Hawke has just lost his mom, don’t do smth you’ll regret ;__;

also, somewhere around the end of act 2 i decided to romance fenris bc i love to suffer, so i worked the whole act 3 trying to get more aproval points and also wondering why are there no romance options when i talk to him... turns out that one night stand with isabela romanced her and canceled fenris. But i never even finished the romance with her so i’m just ??? about it all.

I wish it was more explained about the tattoos fenris has? I just thought the tattoos would play a big role somewhere in the game and it just never happened. There was a banter with Merrill about how his tattoos are similar to valaslin, so i thought, hmm, interesting, maybe the two are connected. But nah they just glow in the dark and make you pass through walls. Whatevs.

also dude just goes and kills without a second thought, i’m just “mate, you gotta calm down”. But that’s his thing. He’s constantly bitter and is very bad at anger management. I can’t blame him, considering he lacks around 10- 20 years of experience due to amnesia.

He’s the only one who left me when Hawke sided with mages, and i was like, “ok i getcha, it’s been nice knowing you”, but then when i asked him to join me 5 minutes later he just went “ok changed my mind” which was so funny, like, where did all that integrity dissappear??? It would have been more impactful if the dialogue went in the line of “i want to stand by my principals but you’re a living breathing proof that not all mages are weak to succumb to demons so i’ll join you in the end” (and then side-eye “i told you so” when orsino turns into a demon)

And i wanna read the fenris comic now bc my question for every character here is what is their fate after kirkwall. I only know that isabela & varric are working for alistair and merrill wants to help the alienage. Aveline is i guess either dismissed from her job or got a pass after cullen took  the command.  But Carver?? Fenris?? Anders?? They never talked about long term plans...

Anders

ooh boy, here we go. there are many questions i have for him and am generally just hmmmm. First, as for his pro-mage rights - it’s like opposite fenris so i just have the same feelings: you mean well, i don’t agree with your methods, your experiences define your worldview so i let some things slide, but other things i will not agree with. Though, question: in how many circles has Anders been? He knows the kirkwall circle, he knows the fereldan circle. Seeing he has excaped 7 times, did they send him to a different circle each time or was the fereldan the last one? or the first one? Or maybe it was his boyfriend they transferred? did i miss something?

I’ll just whisper: awakening!Anders >>> da2!Anders. I just miss the old anders. Which says a lot bc during the awakening i was just “shut up anders”. I miss his bad jokes, his terrible attempts at flirting, his enjoyment of freedom, nagging all the time, and generally being more moderate in pro-mage rights. Like, in awakening, because it was not the only thing he talked about, it felt more personal and intense. Here mage-rights are the only thing he ever talks about + justice. I mean, please correct me if i’m wrong, this was just general impression. But to defend da2!Anders here, it makes sense that merging with mixed both of their personality, and i like that they did that. It’s also very sad.

The thing is, when i’m thinking about anders, i love his story and character. Just as it’s terrible that Fenris, having no memory from before being Fenris, Anders can never go back to being just Anders. And this, people, is why you don’t fraternize with spirits. He’s obviously afraid of how justice is affecting him and there are some bare traces of his old personality and i guess he wouldn’t be as radical if he didn’t have justice personality that can’t stand the injustice. And in combination with anders quite selfish personality (form awakening, and i say that lovingly), it makes him do things that justice wouldn’t condone. Anders is literally a walking bomb.

Again, same problem as with fenris, i really thought that the justice glow would have a incredibly significant culmination, and it didn’t, it was just to show that anders and justice are very bitter. Eh, ok.

Also, i let anders join after he blew up the chantry, bc he started it, so might as well follow it through.

Some minor characters that i remember

Senechal Bran for the next Viscount! He hated hawke so much but still put up with him.

Feynriel is the coolest mage in Kirkwall. I think his missions were my favourite. Dude goes from “oh no i’m a mage” to “i will just dreamwalk to tevinter and learn control the reality” to “i dream-killed bad people from thousands of miles away”. Does he appear in the next game? I want him on my side. He’s so cool.

I think the Maker is sending Cullen signs to quit being a templar. First job: evil mages that tortured you. Instead of “this job will kill you” h took it as  a “never trusting mages again, got it”. Second job: your boss is evil possessed paranoid maniac. Man, talk about bad luck.

What is the story of the Lady Elegant?

Flemeth had that big great talk at the beginning of the game and i thought by the end of the game i’d realise what it meant, but nope, still no clue.

Ok so I defeated Corypheus, but there was this looong shot of Larius walking away. Corypheus possessed larius, didn’t he? He’s out there. In a madman’s body. I know he appears in inquisition.

Many thoughts

I gotta say, in Kirkwall, at least, it didn’t feel like much of a challenge to pick a side. Like, there was no mage who said “hey i actually really like it here in the circle, the templars aren’t so bad”, and having templars actually smuggling mages from the circle says a lot to say the least. Every time a mage talks to you, unless you go with “oh they’re 100% lying”, their stories invoke sympathy and of course you want to help them. And then in 99% cases they turn to blood magic bc there was no other way. Except that dude who always hanged out with the wrong people, he only did blood magic to save Carver. But yeah, that turning to blood magic was like having Fenris side-eye me with an unspoken “i told you so” bc every mage, whether in desperation or hunger for power, will turn sooner or later into a demon. Regardless, blood magic was always in the act of desperation and self-defense. The only times where magic was actually evil was the slavers and the serial killer, who is a madman.

When i was reading the Enigma of Kirkwall, there was a part that talks of a blood-mage conspiracy and i was all, oh shit, there is a reason why templars are mean to mages! maybe the conspirators are framing innocent mages on blood magic crimes that they actually commit, maybe Meredith is actually on trail of the conspirators, maybe there is a reason for animosity on both sides. After all, Kirkwall was known for having a bigger number of apostates, a bigger number of blood magic cases and far more ruthless templars. It added up.Thinking back now, i never even got any specific reason why meredith was so intensely anti-mage, other than going mad.

But yeah, no conspirators. Just sad mages and mean templars, and good templars that get screwed by desperate and mean mages.

While in Kirkwall it’s easy to be a pro-mage, i was thinking a lot about mage-rights in general so let me indulge myself: there are circles, but the mages aren’t oppressed. Rather, the circles would be educational centres and society in every larger city where one learns how to properly handle magic bc magic is dangerous. You can leave when you pass the final exam and also come back anytime to hang out with mages who decide to live there since the institution would support mages.

Also, when one gets possessed, i’d invest more into “walk into their head and free them of demons” specialists. It’d be cool if you could have a dreamer who does that bc no lyrium spent. Honestly, why don’t they ever do that? How did the keeper do that rite for Feynriel? Was it blood magic?

I guess, you’d still have to answer for your crimes, tho no death punishment and degradation allowed. Blood magic wouldn’t be punishable by death, but rather have specialists who study it, but practice with extreme caution and use of another person’s blood is strictly prohibited.

Templars would still exist but completely reformed. No more “mages are all potential disasters”, but i’d rather make it that mages can too be templars, since they both have abilities that prevents the others from casting magic. This way the control system would be much like the dalish: if the keeper(mage) is possessed, the clan (which means the non-mages and the first(mage)) need to kill them. You could argue that you don’t need templars as non-mages, since mages can do it too, but seeing that in general people fear magic and feel inferior to it (since there’s a collective memory of the great tevinter imperium), having non-magic specialists would make them feel like on equal ground. The extra-reformed templars would be under Circle, not under direct command of the chantry, and circle, depending of whether chantry is reformed, might or might not be under chantry.

(a side note, i was thinking about templars recently and i can’t recall an instance where it says who had the clever idea to chew lyrium first? i just wanna know)

I know that DA2 wasn’t about grey wardens and therefore not about darkspawn, but seeing as in legacy we get corypheus being... an evil version of the Architect(??), i was only wondering do we get more answers about the darkspawn? is there hope for them? is the Architect still alive?

And oh, to turn to the Anders question:

Is he a terrorist, or was that just activism? I mean, i don’t see why those two can’t go together. blasting a building with a symbolic significance killing and harming many innocent people to get a message of your radical activism across belongs into a schoolbook of terrorism. Does he have a good cause? He sure believes so, and i, too, agree that mages should not be oppressed for just being mages. But does that mean this is the right way to do it? Personally, i do not condone any act of violence in service of a political or religious cause. I know it’s sometimes inevitable, but i like to believe there are more diplomatic ways, or at least not including an attack on civilians.

That aside, the moment where anders goes in front and just announces that the church was gonna blow up in a minute was the best anders moment for me. Until that point i more or less just viewed his activism as a hobby since he just did it in his free time, but now he put his money where his mouth is and freaking went all out. Cool character moment. And incredibly heartwrenching. He was aware of how many innocents he killed, but just didn’t see other way to get the point across.

I still don’t agree with his idea of blowing up the church tho. Maybe if he told Hawke, they could have done something to empty the church previously and further people away from it and then blow it up?

But still, blowing up religious buildings isn’t the answer. If i was the radical mage activist, i would have gone for the open assassination. Seeing it worked in WW1, i don’t see why it couldn’t start a fantasy war.

Some random things i liked:

uniportant but lovable interractions in the house: it starts innocently with gamlen’s house, to see how you’re doing, and becomes really fun during act 2 when you see your friends have been here and left you things. In act 3, however, it feels melancholic. no more family to come back to, just ghosts of friends that have visited, Bodahn and Sandal being there for you, Orana still not getting some sunlight and your dog at the fireplace. The Hawke Family Suite is playing, and you feel older than you are, lonlier than you should be. just... ouch. I hope Bodahn adopted Orana and took her out of Kirkwall :(

t i named the dog “Maker” which is very funny to me bc every time i summon the dog i just imagine Hawke yelling “Maker help us”. Carver hates the name bc he needs to chase the dog often in the streets. Mama Hawke never ever calls the dog Maker, but she never has to call the dog anything: he’s super obedient towards her.

Fighting wasn’t as hard as in origins, i like that.

The haunted house mission was so cool.

When random people greet aveline in Hightown.

And that’s i think about it. There are probably plenty more things i loved, but i think this is already enough. if somebody told me i’d be playing so much this year, i’d laugh, but I already want to play the next game ;;___;;

[bisexualbuck]

That Which We Carry

Day Five of the Evan Buckley Week 2020! The prompt was “You're a good liar” + comfort

Summary: Bobby stops in his tracks.

Buck is sitting on the ground, next to his own car, his keys and phone forgotten next to him. His breathing is loud and short and he has his head in his hands so that his face is hidden.

He’s having a panic attack.

[Read on AO3]

(Full text under read more)

Their shift has been over for almost an hour, but Bobby has taken the time to finish up some paperwork before heading up home.

He says goodbye to the relief crew and jogs down the stairs. This is one of those rare occasions where he can go home at a normal hour, and even better, Athena has a day off today that she has spent with Harry and May.

Bobby finds himself humming an upbeat song he’s been hearing on the radio. The sun is shining and there’s just enough of a breeze to make the temperature bearable.

He notices that Buck has left his car in the parking lot, but thinks nothing of it. The kid does spend an awful lot of time with the Diaz boys, Eddie and Buck probably left together. Bobby smiles, he does not know who they think they’re fooling.

Everyone knows they are closer than friends. If they are not together yet, it won’t be long before they are. He is thrilled for them, they truly deserve that happiness.

Bobby stops in his tracks.

Buck is sitting on the ground, next to his own car, his keys and phone forgotten next to him. His breathing is loud and short and he has his head in his hands so that his face is hidden.

He’s having a panic attack.

“Hey, Buckaroo,” he calls, softly so as not to startle him.

Buck flinches anyway. His breathing, already worrying, only gets more erratic. He jumps up and almost stumbles in his precipitation to get away, to try to hide his panic.

“Bobby,” he breathes out, a harsh and broken sound. “This – I’m – ”

Bobby puts his hands up and, slowly, gets closer to him, though he makes sure that he lets enough space not to make him feel crowded.

“It’s all okay, Buck. You just need to breathe, okay? Focus on my breathing.”

Buck nods, his eyes are wide and scared and fixed on his captain. Bobby takes one long deep breath in, and one long breath out, in, out, in out, until Buck’s breathing calms down, returns to normal. Neither move, the echos of Buck's breathing still resonating in Bobby's ears.

He watches in morbid fascination as Buck puts the pieces of his mask together. Before him, Buck smooths his face into a neutral expression, leaving no trace of his earlier panic. Soon enough, he flashes his captain a beaming smile that does not quite reach his eyes.

“I’m okay, Bobby. Thank you.”

“You’re a good liar,” Bobby realizes with a terrible pang.

And it’s true. Bobby would not have been able to guess Buck was having a full-fleshed panic attack just minutes prior if he hadn’t witnessed it in the first place.

That is a worrying thought because Buck is always wearing his heart on his sleeve, of that they have all been so sure. How many times did he hide how much he’d been suffering? Did Buck ever have a panic attack at the station and no one had any idea?

Shame and concern rise up Bobby’s throat, almost chocking him.

“I’m good. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I am worried though. Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing, okay. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing if if caused you to have a panic attack in the station’s parking lot." His voice is too sharp and Buck takes a step back. Bobby takes a deep breath and, gentler, asks, "Is is because of a call?”

Bobby tries to think of anything that could have triggered Buck, but he can’t think of anything. They did not have any wild calls at all today and Buck hadn’t looked put out at all. Though he has just learned that maybe it doesn’t mean much. Buck has just shown he is quite apt at hiding his pain.

“Bobby,” Buck says, and the facade crumbles, just a little. “I don’t think I can. Not yet anyway.”

With a soft smile, Bobby simply puts his hand on Buck’s shoulder. Their eyes meet and Bobby hopes that the younger man can read what he can’t say out loud – the love, respect and admiration he caries for this kid. That having a panic attack does not change that, nothing ever could.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ll be there when you’re ready.”

The mask shatters.

Buck’s face falls. A sob bursts out of him, and he crumbles onto himself like a puppet whose strings have been snapped.

Bobby does not dare to hold him, afraid he is still reeling from his panic attack and the touch will only send him again. Instead, he keeps his hand on Buck’s shoulder, his grip firm, and Buck puts his own hand on Bobby’s, holding onto it like a lost man at sea holding onto a raft.

The parking lot is still empty when Buck calms down. He avoids his gaze but Bobby wishes he would look at him, he wants him to see that he is no judging him, that he is not disappointed or anything that must be going through Buck’s mind.

They sit down on the ground, only then letting go of each other.

They don’t speak for a moment. Bobby is lost – should he say something? If so, what could he even say?

Buck makes the decision for him.

“My mom called me,” he says.

He’s playing with his hands, a nervous habit that Bobby has noticed him doing from time to time.

“We’re not close – my parents and I. Maddie isn’t close to them either, but it’s always been different.”

He pauses, Bobby does not press. Buck has never been so open about his past and Bobby isn’t about to rush him and risk him closing off again.

“Our parents, they’re the type of people who had kids, not because they wanted to, but because it was the next logical step. They met, they got married, so they had to have kids, right. That’s how the story goes. It’s what’s expected.”

The way he stresses on the word “expected” has Bobby frowning.

“So they had Maddie, and they were done. One kid was more than enough. They were never affectionate with her, but they never loved me. You know there’s an age difference between me and Maddie, it’s because I wasn’t planned. I wasn’t wanted. They told me that many times growing up.”

He sounds so bitter, yet so resigned, and Bobby feels hot red anger burn through his whole body and he struggles to quiet it down.

“They were never cruel or violent. They were just absent.”

He laughs – sharp, no trace of humor in it.

“So today my mom calls me – ‘cause what if people ask about us right? She has to know what we’re doing. So she calls sometimes, and we fight as always. In her head, she has this idea of the perfect family that we ought to be but we just aren’t.”

He stops, bites his bottom lip down so hard Bobby is afraid it’s going to draw blood.

“Buck,” he says, softly, but Buck only shuts his eyes close, a sorrow so deep etched on his face that Bobby is overwhelmed with the need to smooth it down, any way that he can.

“She said that she didn’t know why she couldn’t ever love me but, in moments like those, where we fight, she’s glad she never tried harder.”

Bobby has never been a violent man but if he had Buck’s parents in front of him, he is not sure he would be able to restrain himself. Two emotions battle in Bobby’s heart – anger, at Buck’s mom for being so cruel, and compassion for Buck who never deserved to be treated like that.

Compassion wins out.

That’s what Buck needs right now, support and love.

“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.”

Buck does not seem to hear him, too deep he is in his own heartache.

“What does that say about who I am if my own parents couldn’t even give a damn about me? How can I expect anyone else to?”

“This doesn’t say anything about you,” Bobby says, firm but gentle. “It’s on them. I can’t tell you why they treated you the way they did, but it was never your fault. And you have people who care about you. You have the 118, you have Maddie, and Eddie and Christopher. Lots of people love you, Buckaroo.”

Buck wipes at his eyes, “Right. Yeah, I know.”

He looks unconvinced still.

“You don’t need them,” Bobby continues, hoping to reach, to convince him of his own worth. “It’s their loss that they’re not in your life. You and Maddie have become great people, and if they can’t see that, it’s on them.”

Bobby hates seeing Buck so small, so broken. Buck takes so much space with his big heart and his big smile. It’s so unlike him to hold himself like he is trying to disappear, and Bobby’s heart breaks at the sight.

“It’s dumb,” Buck says, shameful. “I’m used to it, I’m over it. Sometimes it still creeps up on me, but don’t worry. I’ll be good as rain in no time.”

“It’s okay to not be okay.” He pause but Bobby forces himself to continue, Buck needs to hear it even if it’s hard for him to say. “You’re not alone, you’ve got us. You’ve got me. Son.”

Buck finally turns to him again. His eyes search Bobby’s, and he must find what he is looking for because he smiles, small but moved.

“Thank you, Bobby.”

“Athena and I have the kids tonight. I was going to make some Cajun chicken. You want to come with?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to intrude in on a family night.”

“Buck, I am asking for a family night.”

Tears threaten to spill again from Buck’s eyes but he manages to hold them back.

“Okay,” he says, voice heavy with emotion. “I’ll be there.”

Neither of them are quite saying the words but both are hearing them anyway. Bobby loves Buck like a son, and he thinks Buck might just love him like a dad. Whatever it is, they don’t need to voice it, to put a word on it. They can be their own definition of family.

“Athena will be glad to see you, the kids too. They look up to you.”

“Not sure that’s such a good idea,” Buck jokes but Bobby reads an underlying sense of doubt.

“Buck, come on. We both know that’s not true.”

“Please, no more heartfelt comment. I think I’ve cried enough for today.”

Bobby shakes his head, amused. He gets up, offering his hand to Buck who takes it with a grin.

“I won’t say anything about this to Athena if you don’t want me to.”

“No, I – ” Buck sighs. “I don’t want you to keep secret from her. As I said, it’s fine. I don’t talk about it because it’s not very riveting but I don’t care. I’m used to it. It’s been like that my whole life.”

Once again, Bobby wishes he could have some words with Buck’s parents, but he buries the thought down to, instead, give a quick hug to the man he sees as a son.

.

As soon as Buck arrives at the Grant household, Athena draws him into her arms without even saying a word.

Although he is much taller than her, he feels protected and small in her embrace.

She catches his face when they let go. He isn’t even sure she notices that her thumb is caressing his cheek in a soothing maternal gesture. Her gaze is solemn but kind.

“They do not deserve you, Buckaroo.”

For what feels like the millionth time today, Buck feels overwhelmed and on the verge of crying. She must see it because she gives his cheeks a little squeeze.

“You are a good man with a good heart and you are always welcome here.”

“Athena,” he stars but his voice breaks.

She brings him down to press a soft kiss against his forehead. He wonders if that’s what a mother is supposed to do but, for once, the thought does not bring him pain, only curiosity – as if, maybe, now, he will get a chance to find out too.

“Go on, now,” she shoos him away, gently. “I know Henry’s been wanting to show you his latest game.”

“Thank you, Athena,” he says. “For everything.”

“Anytime.”

He catches Bobby smiling at him too, and Buck finally feels the anguish he has been carrying out all day gets lighter, less suffocating.

It’s not gone yet and maybe it never will be, not fully. But it’s getting better.

He is getting better.

[hydemind]

Your thoughts on Isaac, William, Frankie an Jack 🎤?

OHHHHHH CROW I COULD GO ON ABOUT THEM FOR HOURS.

this post is SUPER FUCKING LONG so for the first time in my life im using a read more link.

I'm gonna start out with Will, who, a little fun fact, isn't actually named William! His full name is Willis Grossman. His parents thought it'd be funny. Will doesn't know his full name.

Here are some other fun facts about me and @functionentropy 's Will (along with other characters below) (he is also the one who has been making this entire creepypasta interp with me! Go check out their art or else /lh):

Will was born in the late 1800s early 1900s!

His parents were a lot like a Bonnie and Clyde duo, and they cared and loved for Will very, very much.

Will always looked up to Isaac! He wanted to be exactly like his grandpa when he grew up. Isaac was also a wonderful grandfather as well.

Will, on his 13th birthday, got Isaac's mask as a gift. When he got it, Isaac said to him: "keep it safe. It's a family heirloom.", Will uses that excuse as to why he still wears it to this day.

Speaking of Isaac, he's the underrealm equivalent to a tumblr sexyman. Everyone thinks he's hot shit, but that also goes for a lot of serial killers residing in the underrealm. Will unfortunately had to see his grandfather on magazine covers talking about the underrealm's HOTTEST NEW KILLER. He hates it.

Will ran away from home after Isaac died at around the age of 20 to 21, and considering he was a legal adult, his parents couldn't do much. They're still looking for him. (How, you may ask? Well, a little thing about the underrealm is that it stunts growth. You're essentially unable to die of old age down there. Think shitty immortality. His parents are looking for him, and they know he's in the underrealm- so that's how they are still around!)

Will had the worst time in the underrealm for the first few years he was down there. He wasn't immediately enrolled in the institution and he had a hard time holding down a job. Eventually he met Frankie! They live(d) in an apartment together. The first time Frankie met Will he thought he was Isaac and told his landlord and him HELL NO. Frankie does not like Isaac. Cue [will's offended gasp] and him saying he's his GRANDSON, and WHY IS HE ACTING LIKE ISAAC SUCKED? Cue Frankie making fun of him for being a grandpa's boy.

Frankie and Will had a bumpy relationship for a while. Will wasn't always a good person. Not really bad, just a fucking dumbass.

Speaking of Frankie...

Here's stuff about Frankie!

Frankie's origin story is essentially the same in this interp. Except for the fact that Frankie very much HAD A PAST. (which. If u wanna know more........I would love to talk about it......but this is about CURRENT Frankie so if u wanna know more bro just pop up in my dms or send another ask im feeling wild tonight)

After Amy passed (which was NOT due in part to the operator in this universe. The operator just found her like that) he was found by Bell (prince beelzebub, ruler of the underrealm at that point). You should know Frankie wasn't always an adjusted and normal fuckin person. He was like a rabid dog for a good while there.

While Frankie was unhinged he fucking death rolled Daisy the first time they met. (Daisy is an oc! I'm willing to talk more about him if you want the deets. He's interesting :]) because of this Daisy is the only one allowed to openly make fun of Frankie. (Playfully, of course.)

Daisy and Bell both basically helped Frankie adjust to society.

Frankie is autistic! So is Will. And Isaac. All. Everyone. Everyone has autism. (Shhhh. i'm projecting.)

Frankie can see souls! He's a very good judge of character because of it. However Frankie doesn't know what he's seeing is people's souls.

Frankie goes specifically after bad people. He'll take jobs from bad people, but he'll kill them, too. He says "he's sending them back to where they belong".

Frankie was the first to really show Will killing isn't just something you do. It's more than that. Will had never really processed death and murder of his fellow man like that before. He has a hard time even processing people as people sometimes, outside those of whom he cares for. This is because of Isaac. Isaac taught Will that people are bad- all of them. And that killing them is preventing them from hurting others, even if they haven't yet.

Frankie is a good guy and honestly a softie deep down. He worries and cares for all those who are close to him, even if he doesn't act like it sometimes.

Frankie says Toby "kidnapped him" and "made him diseased". 1. Frankie can very much leave the household at any time and 2. Frankie is referring to the operator sickness. Speaking of that-

Frankie was dragged through the operator's own personal hell! (Aka the realm they reside in more often than not, aka the place that Tim gets tossed around in near the end of marble hornets.) Reason being was because he threatened Toby's life. The operator is very protective of Toby.

Speaking of that, someone else was around when Toby met Frankie...

ONTO LAUGHING JACK!

ohhh man. Oh man. Oh baby. This clown is FULL of illness. Alright. So let's start off simple:

Lj was of course, made for Isaac. That's still a consistency. What isn't is that lj was around Isaac for a lot longer than in the original story. They developed a very close bond over the years they knew eachother, but, all good things must come to an end.

Lj returned to his box when Isaac left for boarding school. However, unlike the original story....Isaac didn't really come back to open the box. In fact, the most Isaac did was...well, I'll wait to spill that for Isaac's part later.

However! Eventually the house got passed off to another family. Years, and it mean YEARS later someone found lj's box in the attic! They were an unfortunate casualty.

After this, lj went and hunted Isaac down. Cue gore filled murder scene.

Things to note: LJ feels HORRIBLE about what he did to Isaac. He regrets it everyday. He wishes he had never done that to him.

But, time skip a bit.. we're further in the future now. LJ has his carnival set up and hidden away in an empty spot in the forest. He eventually comes across a wandering spirit because of this. This wanderer just so happens to be Sally!

LJ takes her in and swears to protect her with his life. In a way, you could say he sees her as a chance of redemption.

Sally was a wandering spirit, meaning she never really was stuck to one spot in particular- also meaning she wasn't very strong. Because of this, LJ gave her some of his own angelic essence. This boosted Sally and essentially made her a poltergeist!

(Note: Sally doesn't know how she died. Also, none of the things in her og story happened to her in this one. Fuck mishimishi. All my homies hate mishimishi.)

A little while after this they actually meet Toby and Jeffery! But this is getting long and to explain THAT entire debacle would make it even longer. but again I fully invite you to send more asks or just straight up dm me if you wanna know!

Now, last, but certainly not least..

ISAAC GROSSMAN.

OH MAN. Isaac is a DOOZY. Just like LJ, this baby is chocked FULL of illnesses! *slaps the top of his head like the roof of a car* but also, fair warning here: im gonna be talking about some heavy stuff. Abuse, physical and mental, gore, just. Death in general. Cannibalism, and EXTREME MENTAL ILLNESS *loud airhorn* so if any of that stuff gets to you steer clear of this part!

Anyways, let's start out simple!

Isaac was born in victorian England.

Isaac's mother was terrible towards him. I'm talking mental and physical abuse. She was a horrible, horrible woman.

Isaac's father...he wasn't a good person either, but he didn't beat Isaac. Nor did he really mentally abuse him either. He just...let it happen. He didn't even hurt his mother like he did in the original story. Isaac's mother was just plain bad for no good reason.

Isaac was sort of. Born having mental illness. They didn't just develop for him due to the abuse he experienced, though they certainly DID make it worse. There were other mental issues he has now that developed due to the abuse, however.

LJ was quite literally a godsend for Isaac. Metaphorically and not Metaphorically. LJ made Isaac happy, gave him comfort, and was basically like the mom he never had.

that's why it was so hard on Isaac when he had to leave lj behind. For a while he even had hallucinations of lj while in boarding school (which only furthered his future belief that lj was a hallucination brought on by the need to cope).

Isaac's first technical "murder" you could say was at boarding school. He pushed a shitty teacher down the stairs when there was no one around and they died. It wasn't even premeditated- more like it just sort of..happened.

Eventually Isaac graduated. When he did, he promptly returned home and killed his parents, as you do. /s

Isaac killed his mom in a rather violent fashion in comparison to his father- he whiplashed her so hard she fucking died.

Not long after this Isaac started his..well. I guess you could call it career.

Basically you know what happens after that. human skin chair, yadda yadda yadda, underrealm's sexiest killer, you know the drill.

Isaac did more than the human skin chair though! In fact, he uh. He. He did a lot. He did. SO much. But that was because Isaac believed in not wasting any part of the body. Which means Isaac not only made human skin chairs, but he was an avid cannibal, as well. (Fun fact, this very much extended to Will's father, mother, and Will as well. Will didn't know they were eating human for a long time. He had to realize that on his own.)

Eventually, Isaac punched his ticket because of LJ. But..I'd be a liar to say he really died.

No, our wonderful boy Isaac didn't die. He became a ghoul. Which, by the way, only further fucked with Isaac mentally! He's so ill. Some other things happened which I won't say here because they're spoilers for the fanfic I'm working on (Oh yeah the hyperfixation is that bad, but if you wanna know, again, I fully invite you to ask), but basically Isaac eventually gets taxidermied by, drumroll please..TOBY!!!! yeah. Toby does taxidermy as a job. He invited a new type of it for taxidermying Isaac. It was to repay daisy for something he did for the group.

But to say, again, that THAT was Isaac's end, would be another lie! No no no. Isaac was alive during the entire process! The good news is that he's never looked better after he escaped daisy's house when it got exploded by Frankie. Which..that's uh..another story for another day. This post is already insanely long and I am NOT putting it in the main tags.

So yeah! Im absolutely crazy for these dudes and I love all of them. By the way if you couldn't guess before Frankie and Will very much get together and are so so gay. Another little thing: Isaac is gay too, he had a past relationship with a man by the name of Dr. Locklear! Locklear is French German and his accent shows it. They were very close but fell out because of Locklear being involved with the institution and...a certain foundation.

I'll leave it to you to ponder on that one.

[earthspirit10]

Ninjago Angst Week: Day 1 - Past

@ninjago-angst-week Day 1 of Ninjago Angst Week.

Alright, this is my first time ever writing for Ninjago Angst Week. Probably might mess it up, but... I’m just doing what I love. Though it’s kind of short compared to what I usually write and what I’m used to.

This scene has always been stuck with me ever since Cole’s flashback with Wu in Season 8, but then it just got stronger after Season 13. (Spoilers for Season 13 if you haven’t watched it yet.)

Also, I’m not entirely satisfied with the ending... at least, compared to the first part. But anyway, without further ado, here it is!

Trigger Warnings: Mention of death, grief, slight mention of slavery.

---

Cole stared at the doctor, not yet processing her words. “What?” he whispered, dread slowly filling his soul. No, that couldn’t be true, they still had time. They still had so much to do, so many things to experience, so many memories together. Didn’t the doctors say that they could help her? She couldn’t be gone, not yet, not— not ever.

The doctor, a woman by the name of Dr. Alderwood, lowered her head. “I’m sorry. Your mother has . . . passed away.”

His father made a strangled sound at the back of his throat. A few stifling seconds passed before Cole took a step back, then another, shaking his head slowly. “No—” his voice cracked. “No, that—”

Dr. Alderwood tried reaching out for Cole to comfort him, her eyes sympathetic, but he pulled away. His dark eyes glared into her, harsh and unforgiving.

“You lied,” Cole seethed, his voice quiet, but the sheer force that he said it sent both his father and the doctor reeling back in shock. “You told us that she’ll survive, that she’ll get better, that— that everything will go back to normal and—” He turned his head away, wiping furiously at his eyes.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he shoved it away. He didn’t need anyone to pity him. It wasn’t like it was going to bring her back anyway.

“Cole—” he heard his father say.

Cole snapped, “Leave me alone!” And almost immediately, he regretted it. Because seeing his father’s heartbroken expression, he realized that he wasn’t the only one hurting. He wasn’t the only one who lost someone—his father, his dad, lost his wife, and stupid Cole had to go and break his father’s heart even more by yelling at him as if he didn’t even care.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and ran. He ran like his life depended on it, pushing through the doctors and nurses and visitors and patients who were well enough to walk and then he burst out of the hospital, gasping for much-needed fresh air, his fists clenching tightly at his chest. A few worried glances shot his way, but Cole ignored it and stumbled to a random direction, even as hands reached out to him in concern.

He wasn’t sure how far he ran, but the next thing he knew, he was ducked in a bush, emptying out his stomach. His body shook with sobs as hot tears ran down his face. Eventually, he collapsed onto the ground, curling into himself, pressing his palms to his eyes.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that his mother, of all people, had to be cursed with an almost incurable disease. And maybe Cole should’ve seen it— should’ve seen the light slowly fade from her eyes as time passed by, because even as she seemed to act like everything was okay, even as she tried to be brave for him (and because of him, she kept delaying the inevitable, she kept decreasing her chances of survival, and it was all because of him), her body was still failing and she was still dying.

But that didn’t mean it hurt any less. In fact, it hurt even more to see his mother slowly die inside from the effort of delaying, before her body crumpled with her.

Cole felt something shift, and then footsteps, long and heavy, came his way. Immediately he knew that it was his father, and he only hugged himself tighter. Honestly, he was surprised that Lou actually came and looked for him. It wasn’t like they had the best relationship. And yet, Cole felt a small stab of guilt as he remembered how he’d yelled at him before.

His father sat down beside his pitiful, curled form. He heard him sigh. Before his father could say anything, though, Cole mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” his father jolted in surprise. “What are you sorry for?”

Don’t make me say it, Dad.

“Cole . . .” he tried, his voice pained. “Whatever it is you’re thinking of, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

A sob escaped from Cole as tears mercilessly cascaded down his cheeks.

“I’m not mad at you for yelling, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re young; it’s only natural that you would grieve for your mother, even if you have to be . . . loud and violent about it. But this is—”

“It’s all my fault!” Cole blurted, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “It’s my fault that Mom’s gone in the first place, that she was sick, and now she’s dead and she’s never coming back and it’s all my fault!”

Silence followed his outburst, long and stifling. Cole shifted nervously and lifted his head to meet his father’s eyes, which were—

Oh, no. His father was giving that look, the one that said a million things and yet one thing at the same time, the concerned one that demanded an explanation. Cole cringed. That wasn’t— he didn’t mean to say that out loud, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Stupid, stupid Cole, always messing everything up, blurting out his problems for the world to be bothered by—

“Cole, what makes you think that it’s your fault?” his father asked quietly, sounding tentative, as if he was almost afraid of Cole’s response.

Cole swallowed, turning his gaze away and burying his head in between his knees. He didn’t want this conversation, he didn’t even mean to say anything at all. But his father was his father; he always got what he wanted.

“Cole, please, answer me.”

Cole stubbornly remained silent. His father didn’t need to know. He didn’t need to be burdened with Cole’s problems that he could certainly take care of himself.

“I need to know, Cole.” A pause. Then a shuffle. A sigh. “Just, please. Stop blaming yourself. Cancer is something that can’t be prevented. There was nothing we could do to save her.”

And though his father was right, Cole couldn’t help but still feel that it was his fault. Maybe if they had found out sooner, maybe if Cole hadn’t insisted on going on all those childish trips, if Cole would just notice how much his mother was in pain, then maybe she could still be saved. Maybe then it wouldn’t be too late to save her.

“Cole.” A hand was placed on his shoulder. Cole was tempted to shrug it off, but he allowed it to stay. “It’s not your fault, alright?”

But it’s all my fault.

Still, Cole nodded. Slowly. He uncurled from his tight ball and leaned his head on the wall behind him.

What were they going to do now? His mother was the only one who actually cared for what he wanted, the only one who actually noticed how much he hated what his father pushed him through. This was just one of the rare times that his father really showed that he cared. But now . . . Lilly was dead.

How in Ninjago were they ever going to fix that?

“Come on,” his father said gently, interrupting his depressing thoughts. He stood up, brushing away some dirt and twigs. “Let’s go home.”

Cole didn’t answer.

“Cole?”

Cole breathed out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. A moment passed before he nodded numbly and stood with him, wiping away already-dried tears.

The walk to the car was a tense and quiet one.

⸺

“I want you to promise me, Cole, that you will always stand up to those who are cruel and unjust. Always.”

Years later, Cole stared at Shintaro Mountain, which was slowly moving out of sight as the Bounty sailed through the air. Miles and miles below the earth was his mother’s statue. It was hard to believe that the warrior who had once saved the underground creatures from Grief-Bringer had been taken down by cancer of all things.

His mind trailed back to the day— the day his mother died. Tears pricked at his eyes as they closed, and he remembered the crushing despair that had followed when the doctor delivered the terrible news, the anger and grief that washed over him, drowning him in it until he firmly told himself, No more. Mom would want me to move on.

Way earlier than that, back when he was still a child, Cole remembered that day when he made his promise. To always stand up to those who are cruel and unjust. Was she looking at him now? Was that even possible in the Departed Realm? He hoped she was proud of him. He wished he could talk to his mother, even if it was for one last time. One last time was all he wanted.

He guessed it was a proud and impressive feat, defeating the Skull Sorcerer. Ever since he found out that the Geckles and Munce were being enslaved to work, Cole had felt a fiery rage in him that he thought only existed in Kai, but the sight of someone being so cruel as to force creatures to work for them brought on an almost uncontrollable fury that threatened to burst. Cole was glad, gleeful even, that Vangelis had gotten the punishment he deserved.

But . . . was his mother proud of him? She must be. He tried hard, so hard to make both his parents proud. If only he could see her now, hear the confirmation that she was proud.

Opening his eyes, Cole whispered to the drifting wind, “Are you proud of me, Mom? I hope you are.” A shuddering breath followed. “Because I’m proud of who I am.”

“I— I promise, Mom. Always.”

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Cole is a Self Destructive Dumbass

(But it’s okay the ninja love him anyway)

SO FOR SOME BACKSTORY

I have been challenged. Indirectly. But still, I have been challenged. How, you may be asking?

Well, I’ll show you

do you see that? That is a clear indirect challenge.

So naturally I immediately forced myself to write some hurt/comfort with some legitimate comfort in there just to show that I could. So there @cakeforcole​, I can do it!

Who wins in this? Uhh.

Everyone ig

Anyway here have this ily

Cole has an off day that the guys mistake as him being sick. Except it’s a little bit more than that.

2161 words

Cole woke up earlier than normal. His head was pounding with a headache, but it could’ve been worse. It was just an annoying little knocking in his skull, like when Jay tried to talk when everyone else was trying to sleep. If it was actively ignored, it wasn’t terrible.

He sighed, glancing at the clock. He had about an hour before anyone else would be waking up. He sat up, groaning quietly, his head spinning with the motion. He was just going to take a nice, long, hot shower. That would make him feel better, surely.

He didn’t actually end up taking that long, probably because he was used to rushing (thanks to Kai and his bathroom hogging). Still, he felt refreshed. Although the steam hadn’t done much to help with his minor congestion. Stupid allergy season.

He still had maybe a half hour before anyone else would be waking up. Still, for some reason he was way more tired than he had been when he’d first woken up, so maybe he could go back to sleep until he actually needed to be awake. Even thirty minutes would be likely to help a little.

He crawled back into bed, shivering despite the warm temperature they tended to keep the room at. Above him, Jay shifted, but it sounded like he was still asleep. That was good, he’d feel bad if he woke anyone up.

Before long he drifted back to sleep.

It felt like no time passed at all before the alarm clock was blaring. He faintly heard shuffling, but his head hurt, and the last thing he wanted to do was be awake.

“Hey, dude, you gotta get up.” he heard from somewhere above him. 

“I don’ wanna,” he mumbled, barely able to get the words out. He was just barely awake enough to hear and respond, and that was already too much.

Something shuffled, it kinda sounded like the guys were talking, but he was already drifting off again.

Out of nowhere, his blanket was dragged off the bed.

“Nooo,” he groaned, blearily opening his eyes before they got any other ideas, like turning on the lights or splashing him with water or something. He didn’t doubt they would, because they’d done it to each other before.

“How late did you stay up?” Jay asked, already dressed and ready for the day and way too awake for six o’clock in the morning.

“I need coffee,” he grumbled instead of answering, shuffling into the kitchen. Truth be told, he had no idea he’d stayed up, but it couldn’t have been that late. He recalled drifting off pretty quickly, actually.

He coughed into his arm. That was probably nothing, though, just a little tickle in his throat. He just needed some water.

As he was waiting for the coffee maker to do its thing, Zane was starting on breakfast. The smells were unusually vivid for some reason. It kind of hurt his head.

It was probably just that headache from earlier making a comeback.

The thought of the coffee he was making sent his stomach churning. Okay, maybe he would skip that for today. He’d be fine without it.

He was up first for training Lloyd today. They were going to be practicing simple hand to hand combat, not using powers whatsoever, just because you could never know if something might happen.

“Alright, you’re gonna try to pin me,” Cole said, pausing to clear his throat. “The only rule is no powers, got it?”

The little ball of green nodded, practically bouncing with energy. Cole wished he had the energy to think about acting like that.

“Ready… go!” Zane yelled from the side, watching with the others as the pair fought. It was rare that Lloyd won, so this was probably going to be easy.

The only problem was that Cole kind of felt like trash, and the movements he was going through were making him dizzy, and suddenly he was on the ground with a nine year old on top of him.

He groaned, and Lloyd hopped up, triumphant. Cole, however, made no move to stand. Instead, he rolled over, pushed himself up with his hands, and threw up. 

“Oh, ew.” Lloyd said, taking a few steps back.

He was shaking violently, and if he didn’t move or something, he was going to fall into his own vomit. He gagged a few times, distantly hearing the others concerned cries, but he was more focused on the sweat coating his body and the hair matted to his face and the food he’d eaten last night that was coming back up.

Finally, when it felt like he was done, he crawled away and dropped onto the floor.

“Lloyd, go get a bucket, okay?” Zane said, kneeling beside Cole and feeling his forehead. “Jay, get a cold rag please.”

The two ninja raced off to find whatever it was Zane had just said.

“‘M fine,” Cole groaned, trying to sit up. Zane gently pushed him back down.

“Dude, Lloyd had you down in less than a minute.” Kai said, staying far across the room from the other two and making no move to get any closer.

“You have a fever,” Zane said, brushing the hair out of Cole’s eyes. “And you’ve just thrown up. I am not what you would call a medical expert, but I am well aware that those do not usually mean you are fine.”

Cole would have protested if his stomach didn’t convulse a little. He struggled to sit up, gagged a few times, and threw up once again.

“How are we coming on that bucket?” Kai yelled, leaning back to peer through the door. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” Cole protested again, heaving. 

“You’re sick, stupid.” Kai said, cringing at the mess on the floor. “Stop with that. The “I’m fine” thing, not the vomiting. Well, it’d be cool if you stopped that too, but you can’t control that one.”

“Thanks, Kai,” Cole groaned, “very helpful.”

“Yeah, I try.”

Okay, but there was absolutely no way that he was sick. Cole didn’t get sick. He must have just eaten something bad. He’d be fine in an hour, tops.

An hour later he was piled under three blankets, shivering like it was snowing indoors. He was absolutely, positively freezing, despite the fact that he was sweating. That didn’t even make sense!

“How are you feeling?” Zane asked, walking in with a box of crackers and a cup of ginger ale, Jay and Kai right behind him.

He didn’t need this, because he wasn’t sick. “I’m fine,” he insisted again, sitting up further to prove it.

“You’re definitely not fine.” Kai said, unhelpfully.

“Stop saying that!”

He was fine, he was fine, completely and absolutely totally fine. The others didn’t know what they were talking about. He. Was. Fine.

He was met with concerned looks from each of his friends.

“Just… go train Lloyd,” he said.

“Nah, he’s excited to have a day off, and we need to keep an eye on you.” Kai shrugged, sitting down in a chair in the corner of the room as if to say he was not leaving.

“You don’t have to, though.” He wasn’t sick.

“Yeah, well we’re going to anyway.”

“You really don’t have to.” It would be better if they would just leave him alone.

Cole hated being seen like this. He hated feeling this weak, this helpless. Worse, he hated being mistakenly identified as sick, because he wasn’t. The guys were just making a big deal out of nothing.

“What’s going on?” Jay asked, legitimately concerned. Great. That was exactly what he didn’t want to happen.

“Nothing, I just—” he paused to cough, nearly choking on it. “You guys don’t need to watch me.”

“That had better not be an insult to my nursing skills. I’ve been taking care of Nya since she was in diapers, and let me tell you, I’m kind of the greatest nurse ever.” If his complete avoidance of Cole while he was puking was anything to go off of, he wasn’t in very good hands.

He coughed again, his eyes watering. The problem was that instead of going away, his eyes continued to water. In fact, they watered until they were leaking. And now it looked like he was crying (looked like, he definitely wasn’t actually crying, no, he wasn’t weak, he wasn’t crying).

“Cole’s what’s wrong?” Zane asked, combing his fingers through his hair gently. “You’re very obviously bothered. Why?”

Okay, maybe he was really insecure, and getting sick made him feel weak, and feeling weak made him feel worthless, but he was pretty sure that was totally normal. What wasn’t normal was that getting sick scared him. It reminded him too much of his mom, because it had started like a normal illness for her. They’d thought it was just a bad cold, but then it had escalated and she had died—

Okay, yeah, he was crying, but maybe they would shrug it off as random hysteria?

“We want to help, Cole.” Jay said, sitting on the edge of the bed carefully. “Please tell us?”

Telling them would make it worse. If they knew, then they’d see that he couldn’t handle his dumb emotions, and then they’d hate him, because he was so stupid.

“I’m fine,” he said, but through the tears and the lack of clearing his throat, he sounded like a glitching, dying, robotic frog.

“Please, Cole. If it would make you more comfortable, you could tell only one of us. We just want to help you.”

He sniffled. They weren’t going to let this go, were they? Fine, he would just try to explain in the barest, most minimal, most vague way he could.

Which unfortunately didn’t work out.

His emotions came spilling out, words choked out through sobbing gasps, and he was shocked they were even able to understand him. He wished they weren’t able to.

“Just leave me alone,” he said when he was finally able to breathe again. His friends hadn’t said anything, and why would they? He was stupid and hysterical and paranoid, and they were probably trying to figure out how to tell him gently that he was weak.

“You know,” Kai said, as if he were making casual conversation, “I still hate when Nya goes anywhere. I know she’s going to come back, but it doesn’t help much. There’s always just this thought… what if she doesn’t?” He was looking down, staring at his hands, but his words were sincere.

If Cole knew Kai, and by now he’d say he did, it almost sounded like… he was admitting to being scared. Kai? Scared? Admitting that he was scared? That just didn’t happen. He was probably hallucinating.

“It’s not stupid to let things like that affect you,” Kai continued, having paused to… probably to curse himself for being so awkward about being so vulnerable. Or even being so vulnerable in the first place. Cole had to be hallucinating. Kai didn’t do vulnerable. 

“Trauma sticks with you for years,” Zane said, “and it does not make you weaker. It makes you stronger for being able to carry on.”

Except he wasn’t able to carry on. He couldn’t even get sick without fearing for his life, and every time anyone else got sick, he feared for theirs. What about that made him “stronger”? None of it.

He hadn’t even realized he had voiced these thoughts until Zane carefully pulled him into a hug.

“Oh, Cole,” Zane muttered, quiet and sad. “You are most certainly not weak.” But he was. But Zane also didn’t lie… “And even the fact that you were able to tell us about this says a lot about your character.”

He hadn’t even meant to tell them in the first place. But… something in him was glad that they knew. They weren’t belittling him for it. They were being… kind, and understanding. Even Kai, who tended to shy away from talking about emotions. In fact, he had been the one to share his own problems.

They really didn’t think any less of him for being scared.

“It does?” He found himself asking, just to make sure, even though he was scared to hear the answer.

“Of course it does, Dirtclod.” Jay said, and Cole couldn’t help but smile at the nickname. “And besides, you’re one of the strongest people I know, if not the strongest. This doesn’t change that.”

The tears that he had only barely managed to stop just came back again, but this time in a less negative light. His friends actually cared about him to the point where they understood. They didn’t care that he was a little bit messed up. They actually loved him.

He’d never had friends like that before.

“Oh no, was it something I said? Crap, I’m sorry—” Jay said, backtracking quickly, but Cole stopped him with a choked laugh between his cries.

“You guys are the best.”

[obsidianfr3sk]

Beginnings and Endings (Part 2)

@renegadesnet event 2: august of anarchy

↪ [The Artino Brothers]

Summary: In the beginning, it was just the two of them: David and Alec, the Artino Brothers. Then, they brought anarchy into the world. Now, David is not sure if there would be enough of themselves by the end of it. "Don't call me Alec anymore. Now I am Ace. Ace Anarchy."

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686343/chapters/62997898

With this part ends my contribution to August of Anarchy:) I love participating and I hope we got more events in the future!! Writing David and Ace was painfully wonderful and I’m not saying I will write more fics about them someday... but I will lol I hope you like this chapter as much as you like the first one <3

Also i wrote this from my mom’s pc because my laptop is a little bitch and broke down and it’s fucking difficult to type on this keyboard like wtf this pc is old as fuck it has like 12 years do yall realize that if this pc was a child she would be having her first period??? but like my laptop has only three years and she fucking dead-

The finale of the ending

Age of Anarchy

Year 11

David had never left Tala's house feeling angry. Never. Tala never made him angry. How could he be mad at the kindest, funniest, and most talkative person who inhabited the entire galaxy? He could spend hours listening to her rants, reading old magazines with her, and laughing at her bad jokes. Her hair smelled like yeast and cherries. (David surely smelled like crap.)

Tala Ong made him wish the nights were eternal, but this time David was doing nothing but longing the day would come soon.

She knew very well they never spoke of his family, and she had dared to mention it anyway.

David entered the cathedral through the back door. He still had Tala's words inside his head.

“You can't let him tell you what to do, David. Don't you realize that he is only manipulating you? He's using you for his evil ends, David, because yes, that what they are, evil ends.”

Evil ends. How old was she, seven?

“You no longer depend on him. You are an adult, David. A very handsome, smart, and powerful adult. I've seen the things you can do with your powers, and it's… it's beautiful, David, it's very beautiful.”

Talanever wore jewelry. She said it contrasted a lot with the old clothes she wore all the time. However, when David made that bracelet for her on her birthday, Talaassured him she would always wear it. And up to that point, she had kept her promise.

“David, I like you. A lot, a lot, a lot. You honestly have no idea how much I like you. If it were up to me, we would spend the rest of our days together.” She walked over to him and put her hands on his chest. Talawas short, curvy, and her eyes were so beautiful... “You are special. And not because you're a prodigy, David, God no. You are special, but because you are you, David, and that is more than enough.”

And David was about to tell her the truth. Tell her that he also liked her very, very, very much and that he agreed to spend the rest of his days with her. But then, Tala caressed his cheek and whispered, “Ace won’t hurt you anymore.”

He pulled away from her with outrage burning him inside. 

Tala didn't know Ace as he did. She didn't know what she was talking about.

David entered the chapel where he slept. It was dark and small compared to other chapels in the cathedral, but he liked it. He reached out to turn on the light, and—

He froze. Ace was there, staring at the marble statue dedicated to the Holy Family. He lit a candle for them, murmuring some words in italian. Then he crossed himself. Nel nome del Padre, del Figlio e dello Spirito Santo.

When Ace prayed and David was in trouble, he couldn't tell if he was talking to the good Ace or the bad Ace. Both Ace were deeply devoted. 

But the bad Ace was scary when David did something he didn't like.

“Of all the sculptures in this cathedral, this must be one of my favorites, David,” Ace said without looking at him. “You know why?”

David could only ask, "Why, Ace?”

“Because it shows Jesus in his most vulnerable form,” he replied. “This child is— was the Savior of all mankind. He was the most powerful being on Earth, yet he loved and respected his family like any other mere mortal. And in that, we are alike.”

You are not God, Ace. Stop comparing yourself to him.

Ace turned around. He was wearing his helmet, but was on his pajamas. In another context, David would be laughing. “Where were you?” he asked.

“I was—”

“With Tala.”

There was no point lying to him. “Yes. With Tala.”

Ace leaned against a column. “And how is she? What's new?”

“Actually— we argued.”

“Did you argue? That’s terrible.”

If Tala had been there, she probably wouldn't have noticed the suffocating atmosphere. She would not have a cold sweat all over her body, nor would the blood have gone to her feet.

Because she was brave.

“You are brave, David!” she exclaimed trying to take his hand again. “You are as brave as—”

“As brave as you?” David asked, his face flushed with anger. “No, I am not! We both know I'm not! Forgive me for being a freaking disappointment to you!”

When he heard Tala's first sob, he was so scared, so sorry for his actions, that he ran. He left his crush crying, in the middle of the hot, starless night.

David was not brave. David was a coward.

“It is,” he whispered.

“Why did you argue?”

Because of you.

David leaned against the spine next to Ace, his hands in his pockets. “She likes me. A lot,” he replied.

Ace moved to lean on the same column as David. His clothes were infused with a smell of humidity and incense. It was familiar, sure, but it was never going to be as pleasant and comforting as Tala's. Never.

“And did she just say it like that?” he asked with a sly smile. “Wow. She must be crazy for you, David.”

He nudged him gently on the shoulder. David dared to smile.

He was talking to the good Ace.

“Yes, I thought we were just good friends,” David replied, throwing himself on his cot, “but the truth is that... I like her too.”

“Why?” Ace asked, laughing out loud.

“Why not?” David said with a shrug. “She is cute. And ingenious. Very funny.”

Ace sat next to him on the cot. “But she isn’t a prodigy,” he reminded him.

David rolled his eyes. “Are we going back to that? There is nothing wrong with it.”

“There's nothing wrong with just being friends, sure,” agreed his brother, “but when it comes to starting a family, it can be a problem.”

“No, no one is talking about starting a family,” David said. “I just think she's cute. That's it.”

“Don't lie to me, little nightmare," he whispered, "you know I don't like you lying to me.”

Ace stood up, blocking the light that was hitting David's face.

His smile disappeared. He was wrong. David was talking to the bad Ace.

Idiot. He should have known better.

“I’m aware you have a very strong attachment to her,” he told him. “I see it in your eyes every time you return from visiting her.”

“You notice when I arrive?” he muttered.

“Oh, all the time, David, all the time,” he replied with a nod. “You're so in love. But what tells you that she corresponds to your feelings with the same intensity?”

The cold sweat returned. “She told me,” he replied quietly. “She told me I was special.”

“Special?” Ace rolled his eyes. “David, women will say anything to seduce a man and get what they want out of him.”

“But I have nothing, Ace. What could she want from me?”

“You have nothing, that's right,” he agreed. “But we—” he threw the helmet at him violently, “—we have this.”

David's hands squeezed it. He hoped it exploded. Or burst into flames. Or both. “Your helmet?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“It is evident that she is working with the Renegades,” Ace explained. “They are probably the ones who gave her the idea of exactly what she had to say to make you believe her and fall in love.” He brushed a lock of hair from David’s face, with those long, cold fingers that gave him chills. That lock could never stay in place. “I don't blame you, little nightmare. You wouldn't be the first to fall for a pretty face.”

David fixed his gaze on the helmet. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph— he hated that freaking helmet.

“Why should she like you anyway? Why would such a pretty girl notice you if not for our power?”

Our power, Ace? Or your power?

David started to tear up. Was it because of his sadness? His anger? Or was it because of the pain he felt in his hands from crushing the helmet?

“The world is full of people who will tell even the vilest of lies just to get what they want,” Ace continued. The unruly lock covered her face again. Ace extended his hand slowly. “Believe me when I tell you that Tala is not so different from them.”

Tala could be many things. But if there was one thing David was sure of, it was that she was not a liar.

“No.”

Ace's hand stopped. “No?”

David stood up and tossed the helmet at Ace. “No! Talais not what you say. She's not a liar,” he exclaimed, pointing at his brother with his finger. “And do you know how I know that? Because I know her! I know her better than you ever will because I'm not obsessed with the idea of someone coming in and taking away the power I have! I am sure of how powerful I am. No one can take from me what is truly mine. Not even you.”

Ace put his helmet back on, and looked David up and down.

Crap.

Suddenly, a force lifted him off the ground and smashed David into a pillar. He stifled a groan of pain as Ace walked over to him, looking him in the eyes, and retaining David’s extremities with his powers.

He was going to kill him. He truly believed that he was going to kill him right there.

But Ace did not.

He tucked his younger brother's unruly lock back behind his ears.

His hands were still cold. But David was no longer afraid.

Ace sighed. “I'm just trying to protect you, my little nightmare.”

David had never felt so grossed out hearing his nickname. He hated it even more than he hated the helmet. Little nightmare. My little nightmare.

He could throw up just thinking about it.

Without him noticing at first, golden threads began to sprout from his fingertips, moving in strange directions. David wasn't even moving a single muscle. His brother clenched his jaw and frowned. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. He had never seen him having so much difficulty controlling his telekinesis. 

Then, he realized what was going on. Their powers were in a fight, neck to neck. And David's seemed to have a chance.

Finally, David's powers won out, and he fell to the ground on his feet. A little shaky, a little confused about what had just happened— but free.

“I can take care of myself, Alec,” he said. “And I'm not your little nightmare anymore.”

Without answering, Alec picked him up off the ground again. This time, David's powers did not come to his rescue. He levitated him all the way to the main entrance of the cathedral. With a wave of his hand, he opened the doors wide and threw him to the sidewalk with violence.

David fell backward. Dazed, he raised his head. His gaze was slightly blurred, but he could clearly see Alec was smiling at him.

Maliciously. Tenderly. With a terrifying mix of both.

“I know you'll come back. I will be waiting.”

As soon as the doors closed again, David stood up and walked away from the cathedral. Alec was wrong. He was never coming back.

The nightmare had come to an end.

[grimecrow]

Sometimes Those Who SHOULD Be Your Greatest Allies Won’t Be But...

I’m writing this for all those LGBTQ people still hiding who they are, especially to the younger ones. Sharing my experiences with you may honestly make you more fearful of things at first but please read till the end.  So, I knew I was gay when I was ten. I didn’t know what gay was, I honestly didn’t consciously understand much if anything at all about sexuality I just knew I really liked how pretty some guys in my comics (and my class) were and never felt that way about girls.  I never acted on it, I never told anyone, I was ten it’s not like dating was a really big priority or anything. My parents were split by this time and my bigoted father must have suspected something was up when I turned down buying the new Marvel swimsuit issue thing.  He sat me down shortly there after told me the truth about my mother, she was a lesbian. He then proceeded to tell me about how homosexuality was unnatural, and it was so unnatural that nature had made a disease that will rot those nasty homos from the inside out just because they were homos and it was THAT wrong. We had just entered the 90′s at this point but my father was extra bigoted towards homosexuals because my mother had married him to be able to have a baby and live off his money. Leaving him for a fling, in such a way that everyone at his work and stuff knew.  Well needless to say I hated myself and was afraid of myself, not that I could talk to anyone about it. Not even my mother because anytime I asked about how you knew if you were gay she’d get mad and tell me I wasn’t. Weird right? A lesbian who had known since she was young that she was homosexual being so aggressive at her kid for wanting to talk about the idea of homosexuality in general? Especially given how her family had reacted to her. Her mother abused her, and sent her to an institute that touts it’s self as such a fucking ally to the LGBTQ community yet never acknowledges that they ever did anything wrong; hiding behind the fact that they were ‘just using the science of the time’. That back when my mom was a teenager being various forms of water based tortures, sleep deprivation and applied violent electricity based deterrents. Her brother helped inflict horrible things on her with his friends in an attempt to ‘fix her’.  Anyhow in the later half of the 90s, in grade 9 I was gay bashed for the first time, I hadn’t come out but people suspected and I never did anything to prove those suspicions wrong. Despite it happening on the grounds of a school and parents even encouraging their kids to join in with video evidence the cops assumed that cause it had been labelled a gay bashing I was gay and had set it up to happen for attention. ACAB, even in Canada as the department’s views on the LGBTQ community hasn’t changed no matter how much they wanna march in the parade to pretend it has all these years later. My mother was furious and though I thought I had been outed by the incident she had double downed on my straightness and this was just a horrible case of bullying. In grade 10 two of my mother’s friends convinced me that despite my fear that my mother would be supportive of her gay son. How could she not be? And it made sense when they said it out loud. So I officially came out to my mother and...she kicked me out onto the street going on about how I was fucking up her life. I was supposed to have a girl friend she could jokingly flirt with (gross) and all of that.  Well I was now homeless, with no family, a part of my mother winning custody of me the last time I was swapped was that I couldn’t go back to my dad. Which honestly was for the best as he and his wife thought an acceptable reaction to a nine year old using pins instead of sticky-tack to put up a poster was to throw them down the stairs. So...given that and my father’s history of aggressive homophobia it’s not like he would have been an option even if I could have gone back to him. 

I thought I was screwed, that was it my life was over. All my mother’s extended family that was alive was super homophobic and hated my mother cause by this point she had conned them all out of cash. 

But those two friends of my mother who had convinced me to finally come out to her without me asking gave me a couch to sleep on. They not only gave me a couch but made sure my clothes were clean and I was fed for the next short bit. They also went pretty hard at my mother, going so far as to tell the rest of the community my mother was a part of what had happened and the community came down on my mom for throwing the poor little gay out of the house just for being the way she herself was.  My mom came up with the excuse that she had kicked me out on the street in hopes of scaring me straight. After all; she knows all the terrible things an LGBTQ kid at that time would have to face so she wanted to protect me from them by...throwing me out. This didn’t make sense to anyone but my mom told me I could come home and her friends would check in with him pretty regularly for a while after that to make sure things were okay, and that I was as okay as I could be. As you probably have come to the conclusion to yourself, the excuse she gave to her friends and the community makes absolutely no sense. Years later the truth of the matter would be realized. My mother is a user, an exploiter and once I had aged enough I had two purposes left to fulfill. One being to take care of her and be her retirement plan when she grew old enough, and two the more important one give her grandchildren. Once I couldn’t give her grandchildren my overall use was over and in her anger she threw me out; as all I was at that point was just a drain on resources. She could always either scam or bet her way to another retirement plan after all.  I know I got really, really lucky. Not everyone has a community that will stand up for them like that when things get to their worse or at least it will seem to be that way. I know this all sounds really scary too. I know the fears of coming out, even when there is a potential safety net or everything in the world dictates that you will have obvious allies. I know what it is like to live in a house of violent abusers who are very active in their hatred all the while you’re secretly ‘the enemy’. (Hey I was first suicidal at the age of 12 cause it seemed to be the only escape.) The reason I am even writing all of this is to tell you. Sometimes those who SHOULD be your greatest allies won’t be but...there will be allies if you keep looking, keep trying, and keep living.  Stay safe.

[amorrdemiel]

I am ready for cherry pie.

I was trying to write this in my journal, but sometimes the feelings want to come out faster than my little hand can scribble so I came here to frantically type it all out. 

I asked God to walk deeper into the Garden of Life. Earlier this summer, I knew I had found Heaven, I felt myself forgiven, I felt everyone forgiven, I felt us all to be love. But what I thought was living in Heaven was actually just the entrance, and I comfortably pulled up a chair to gaze lovingly at its doors lol, and I realized I could actually walk within.  But I was afraid. I asked God for the courage and the clarity to walk deeper into the joy of life. And I heard her joy calling me, a song just for me.  I heard her calling me to music, to sit at my piano keys and play. I heard her calling me through day dreams of traveling in a camper van of my own, of watcher her Holy sunrises at different oceans, to gaze at her freckle stars in the night, in deserts I had never crossed before. I heard her call upon the wind of peace, of sleep. I saw her show how gentle life truly was, how it was willing and wanting to caress me, to be caressed.  BUT I still felt fear, and even worse a strange itch overcame me to purposely look for terrible things, things I don’t even want to look at on a regular basis. Wanting to purposely look at murders, at violence, at suffering. And I didn’t understand why. I knew better than to succumb to the itch to seek these things out, I knew it wouldn’t give me wisdom and I felt something strange about the itch. After a really good tarot reading from my sister, she helped me clarify that weird itch to find things horrific.  Joy requires vulnerability, she said. And it is difficult to be vulnerable when you lack trust in life, down to a bone psychological level.  She helped remind me of how when I broke my arm in the summer before third grade, it was a traumatic experience for me that changed the psychology of me forever. I didn’t know this until this week, but apparently because I was a child, they couldn’t give me anesthesia and the two options for my very large break in my arm, was either preform surgery on me while I was very much lucid and awake or rearrange my bones back into place blindly so they wouldn’t have to make a cut on me. Somehow, the best bone doctor in Texas at the time just so happened to be at the hospital in El Paso and he chose to blindly rearrange my bones back into place. and he told my mom and my dad to watch the pain I was about to go through because it would change me forever. My sister stayed too because she is brave and loving and wanted to be there for me, even though she too was just a child. They always tell me about how traumatic it was for them to see me screaming in pain as he was rearranging my broken bones, and I remember just searing pain lmao I just remember it being hours of pain, as they made me twist my arms for X-Rays, and when they kept twisting my arm to put my bones back into place. Truly painful lmao  BUT point of the story is, I used to be a very active child before that, I was always running, playing music, I was always smiling and happily in my garden, I was a straight-A student in GT. And after that I wasn’t, and all the details to me don’t matter any more. (EVEN THO, I felt a little upset that my mom remembered how the doctor told her that I would be changed forever and my parents STILL screamed at me for hours when I stopped getting straight A’s, and couldn’t focus anymore. if the doctor told you I was changed forever, how come you still screamed at me for hours because I got a C? how come you literally told me: When you broke your arm, something got damaged in your brain, you must have hit your head and scrambled something, so try really hard to think what happened and change it, just change it. Go back to how you were. IDK I FEEL LIKE THAT KINDA CONTRIBUTED TO ME CUTTING AND HITTING MYSELF OUT OF FRUSTRATION, WOULDN’T YOU THINK? Like my sister summarized it the best, which was that they were holding me accountable, a child, for understanding the trauma I went through and working through it just so I could get the grades they wanted me to get. -___- BUT WHATEVER I AM LEARNING TO FORGIVE THEM FOR WHAT THEY COULDN”T UNDERSTAND THEN.) The beautiful thing I rather focus on, is after reminding me of this, my mom and my sister both cried and hugged me for a good solid ten minutes and kissed me, and told me that I don’t have to feel afraid anymore, that life isn’t what I feared it to be anymore, and that I am free and can be vulnerable to joy, and that is truly what I rather focus on than the past parents that didn’t know how to cope with what I had gone through.  My sister also reminded me of how I conveniently forgot how earlier this year I went to see a physical therapist finally for my knee which hurt me a lot and made me feel like I couldn't go hiking or any of the adventurous things I wanted to do bc it hurt too much and he straight up told me that it was all PSYCHOLOGICAL. Which was super wild for me to hear, because I think he’s right! lmao.  It reminds me of when I was a child, and I used to run out in my little garden in the sun all the time, and how sometimes I was suddenly forced to stop because I couldn’t move without feeling a lot of pain, and I would look down at my feet and I saw how all those thorned stickers were on my laces, my socks, my shoes and it hurt too much to move so I was just stuck. (Which makes me feel happy about that dream I once had where a large field beckoned me and I began running in its vastness barefoot, and I remember looking down and seeing a bunch of those thorned stickers and somehow missing every single one, and feeling so free.)  Anyhow, I resolved to allow myself to be vulnerable to go into joy, and that even with this psychological, bone deep memory of trauma happening when I move.  The day before yesterday, my sister made it aware to me that our betta Artemis has fin rot (mild) and I felt so in pain because of it. One thing I could never stand was seeing the people (or animals) I love in pain, and I’ve never acted on this impulse, but the first impulse I have when my sister tells me about a traumatic experience she’s had or I see my animals hurt is to say “NO! That’s NOT how you feel, this isn’t real.” BUt it’s so irrational to me, to say this, that I never act on it but I do have to convince myself by becoming more objective to handle the pain of seeing them in pain.  But I guess I have allowed myself to feel more vulnerable and more sensitive to life (I used to allow myself to be sensitive when I was a toddler but I was just so overwhelmed and my parents would yell at you if you cried so I just capped it.) But I’m letting myself be sensitive, so I did feel angry at my sister initially for telling me that Artemis had fin rot, and I felt very upset, but I let it be there and we researched how to heal it and took immediate action the next day and even though my sister was sensitive about it, and I was sensitive about it, we did a great job at getting everything we needed, staying calm and supportive of one another, and it just always surprises me how much me and my sister haven’t adopted the way my mom and dad do things which is screaming, and panicked and violent. (Well, we worked ourselves out of it through love and patience.)  But as we were driving to the pet store for the second time to get something else to help us out with Artemis’s tank, I told my sister about how allowing myself to feel the pain I felt at Artemis being sick, when I got home from the pet store this morning and went to say hello to my pug before getting started with my sister on deep cleaning his tank and getting salt in it to sterilize the wounds, I felt a much deeper and softer joy at hugging Qipsi and holding her in my arms and I realized that joy came from allowing myself to feel the pain of Artemis. That when I let myself feel the pain, it also let me feel the pull, the desire to tend to his tank, his little body and soul, his water much more diligently and the joy that arose in that, and it let me feel the pull and desire to tend to Qipsi more tenderly, and tend to myself more tenderly. And so pain, allowing the suffering allowed joy as well.  My sister told me about how she read or saw that when you allow yourself to feel the pain, you allow yourself to feel the pathway to the healing of it.  And that just shook me because I never looked at it like that. I always thought pain was useless, or was just to burn your ego, or just frustrating, but I see now how it led to more joy, it led to truer joy. How it led to truthful joy, and I never let it show me the healing. I was so afraid of pain, I never let it show me how to heal, I just hated how I was hurt to begin with. But if I could just focus my attention and the pathway to healing, and to feel the healing, the joy of it.  AND SO, here I stand, on the precipice of fate, on the road I am asking to help guide me to the purpose of my life, the highest good of my life, and I feel I understand what joy and pain truly are.  I asked God to lead me deeper into the garden of life, so that I may understand what I am here to provide, what of my highest good can I give back, and I was given clarity and courage. Clarity to understand the truth behind pain, the way it shines a path to the healing of you and me, to the healing of body and soul and courage to face the vulnerability that joy requires, that pain requires to open you to deeper joy, and so it goes.  I want to play and create and enjoy this sandbox of life. 

And I want cherry pie. 

[theassofwonder]

A Cord of Three Strands (Is Not Quickly Broken)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part 4

PART 5-EVGENI

((Unfortunately i can’t include the hyperlink to skip the smut if one so chooses, SO you scroll from “ The number of times he has dreamed of this scenario is ridiculous and embarrassing” to “After they’ve  cleaned up, put on some semblance of pajamas, and have tucked themselves into bed”. ENJOY!!!))

He should be used to this by now, Evgeni thinks, watching Sid glare groggily at the coffee maker as it fills the carafe. Sid’s been in Moscow for more than a week; Evgeni shouldn’t be surprised every morning he finds Sid in the kitchen before him and Anya. He shouldn’t be melting into a puddle each time Nikita gravitates into Sid’s lap. He knew going into this when he agreed with Anya that he’d give himself the chance to let his feelings for Sid- be on the front burner, so to speak.

But he’d spent so long keeping them on the back burner that he’s not entirely sure what to do now that he has permission- from Anya, and from himself- to act on those feelings. He doesn’t know how to talk to Sid about it all; hell, he’s not sure how to talk to himself about any of it.

“Good morning, Geno,” Sid yawns. Evgeni almost hates how he doesn’t hate Sid’s accent, how he rounds out the vowels, how he still pronounces every syllable.

“Morning,” he grunts. He doesn’t wrap his arms around Sid’s midsection like he wants to, doesn’t kiss his cheek and rest his chin on the top of his growing mop of curls. Instead, he leans back against the island across from him, head bowed, and eyes closed, trying to get a few more minutes of rest before he really has to be awake.

“You’ve been doing this for how many years now and you’re still not a morning person?”

Evgeni lifts his head, his breath catching at how…fond the smile Sid’s giving him is. “Yeah, well-“ he clears his throat, feeling the blood rush to his face. “Old dog, bad tricks?”

Sidney tips his head back and laughs, his beautiful, honking laugh that makes him sound like a goose, and Evgeni can’t help but stare at him: the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the way his mouth stretches over his teeth, how the tilt of his head seems to elongate his neck and make Evgeni want to lick and bite every square inch.

“I’d try to correct you with the right wording, but I have a feeling you said it wrong on purpose.” Sid’s grin is blinding, too bright for how early it is.

Evgeni tilts his head a little. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grins, more of a bearing of teeth than a display of joy. “Bad English.”

Sid lets out the goose laugh again. Evgeni likes how pink his face gets and makes a silent bet with himself to see how many times he can pull that laugh out of him during his visit.

X

Evgeni will never be over how exhilarating it is to be on the ice with Sid. He’s always felt at home in a rink, with skates on his feet and a stick in his hands, but with Sid- well. He feels like they were destined to share sixty-one meters of ice.

“What’d you have to do to finally get him here, huh?” Kadarov mutters, smirking a little. “Sign away your life to the NHL?”

“He’s just getting over a tough breakup. Besides,” Evgeni says distractedly, watching Sid familiarize himself with the rink, bigger than he’s used to. “I already promised him ‘Penguins forever’.”

Evgeni freezes, and from the corner of his eyes he can see Kadarov shaking violently. “Mikhail,” he starts, but Kadarov cuts him off, waving his left hand erratically. “It’s fine,” he says, voice high-pitched. A giggle lets itself loose and Kadarov doubles over to brace himself with the wall.

“What are you laughing for?” Evgeni hisses, cold with fear. “This isn’t a laughing matter, what the fuck?” He sees Sid skating over, looking concerned, and tries to swallow his panic.

“Everything okay over here?” Sid looks between Evgeni and Kadarov, confused and lips twitching, like he thinks he should be laughing too.

“Told Kadar joke,” Evgeni lies. “Is terrible joke, think his brain is broken.”

Sid nods slowly, the space between his eyebrows wrinkling slightly. “Okay. Uh,” his gaze slides over to Kadarov, who is no longer under threat of death by laughter, but is still chuckling to himself and shaking his head. Sid blinks and looks back to Evgeni, confused, and a little lost.

“How do you like ice?” Evgeni tilts his chin up toward the rink. “Feels okay?”

Sid looks over his shoulder, the left corner of his mouth ticking up. “Yeah,” he says. “It’ll definitely be a bit of an adjustment, but nothing I can’t handle, ya know?”

“Of course,” Evgeni sticks the tip of his tongue between his teeth, biting down gently, privately drooling over the color that flushes high on Sid’s cheekbones. “Sidney Crosby can handle anything.”

X

He’s still thinking about that blush when Anya accosts him late that night, cornering him in front of the large double sink in the bathroom. Her eyes are wide, her brows furrowed, her bottom lip red like she’s been biting it viciously. “Zhenya,” she says, the hem of her shirt gathered between her clenched fists. “I need to tell you something.”

Evgeni turns off the faucet and rubs his hands dry on his jeans. “Is it something I need to be worried about?”

Anya scrunches her face up, the space between her eyebrows closing. “I don’t think- I don’t know.” She sighs, folding her arms over her chest. “Maybe.” Anya purses her lips and pivots on her heel to march through to the bedroom, where she begins pacing at the foot of their bed. She stops suddenly, facing Evgeni. She gives a trembling exhale and just- falls backward onto the bed, arms spread out perpendicular. Evgeni almost wants to laugh, but he knows if he did Anya wouldn’t talk about what’s bothering her, so he keeps his mouth shut and sits down next to her legs.

Anya presses the heels of her palms against her eyes, groaning. “I don’t know how to tell you,” she admits. “It’s nothing bad, I swear, and it’s so stupid, Zhenya, god!”

“Hey,” Evgeni interjects. “Careful now, that’s my wife you’re talking about.”

Anya lifts her hands to make a show of rolling her eyes. Evgeni raises an eyebrow and she sighs. “Fine,” she relents. “So it’s not stupid. But it’s-“ she makes a face. “Immature, I guess?” the corner of her mouth ticks up, and she looks a little to the left of Evgeni’s head. “It feels like I’m a schoolgirl again, getting a silly crush.” The nostalgic, far-off look in her eyes disappears as she makes eye contact with Evgeni. “Or it would,” she continues regretfully. “If it didn’t also feel like I was betraying your trust.”

Evgeni tries not to get stuck on the first thought that pops into his head, but he can feel panic start to cling to the edges of his consciousness as he mentally goes through recent interactions Anya’s had with any male coworkers or friends. He starts second-guessing everything in the span of a half-second, and if his mom hadn’t brought out his baby pictures after Nikita was born, he would be doubting that too, but-

“I think I’m falling in love with Sidney.”

A split second of nothing.

A train braking too hard, too soon; the wheels sparking against the rails.

He opens his mouth to speak, to ask when, and how, but what comes out is-

“That’s so fucking hot.”

“Zhenya!” Anya snaps, springing into a sitting position, face flushed. “What the fuck, Zhenya, that is not-“

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he yelps. “That’s not what I wanted to say, I’m sorry, that was incredibly inappropriate, I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I won’t- I swear to God, Anya-“

“I mean,” She makes a face, half apologetic. “You’re not wrong.”

He’s dying. He’s dead, and he’s in heaven, because he’s under the same roof as the two loves of his life and the one he’s married to is both okay with him being with the other one and that she wants to be with him too. (The number of times he has dreamed of this scenario is ridiculous and embarrassing.)

Anya must be able to tell what train of thought his mind is going down because she blinks, eyes wide, then folds her legs under her and smirks. “You like that,” she hums. “Me, with Sidney.” She caresses the edge of his jaw with her knuckles. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes so Evgeni leans into it, closing his eyes and exhaling over her wrist. Anya kisses his cheek, dragging them up to his temple. “How many times have you imagined it? Be honest.”

“So many,” he breathes. He tries to tilt his head back to kiss her properly, but she halts him with her thumb over his lips and the rest of her hand cupping his chin.

“Were you watching?” She asks lightly. “Or were you with us, participating, touching us both?”

“Both,” he rasps, and she slides her thumb into his mouth, pressing against his tongue, keeping his mouth open.

Anya hums again and nips at the crest of his ear. “What does he do to me,” she asks, almost begging, but not quite. She straddles him, groaning as she rubs against the hard line of his dick, still trapped in his pants, her thumb slipping farther into his mouth as he gasps in return. “What does he do to you?” She slides her thumb out, dragging it down the center of his chin. Evgeni makes sure to look her in the eyes as he says, “Everything”.

It’s a race to see who can get their clothes off first, and Anya has the advantage of apparently not wearing underwear, so Evgeni is stuck at the end of the bed with his shirt off and pants around his knees while his wife is stretching out on top of the covers, the pillows like a halo around her dark hair.

His wife is hot and he’s a simple man; sue him.

“Zhenya,” her voice lilts, as she bends her knees, planting her feet flat on the duvet, and running her long fingers up her delicious thighs. He shoves his pants the rest of the way off and nearly breaks his nose on her kneecap in trying to get up to her fast enough. He’s about to kiss her when she stops him again, pushing him away with the tips of her fingers against his forehead. He’s man enough to admit that he whimpers.

“If you’re good,” she says, carding her beautiful fingers through his hair, pressing down at the back of his skull, guiding him to her chest. “Are you going to be good for me?”

“So good,” Evgeni breathes, and licks broadly over her left nipple.

Anya tugs on his hair lightly, not enough to hurt- not yet. “Tell me one of your fantasies,” she breathes. “I don’t care which one, just-“ her breath hitches Evgeni bites at the skin just below the nipple. Her eyelids flutter, as if she wants to keep watching him. “Make me come,” she orders.

Evgeni licks at her left nipple once more before kissing down the side and across to her right one, alternating between soft, barely-there brushes and open, wet things that barely quantify as a kiss.

He resists the urge to suck a hickey into the bottom of her breastbone.

He gives her right nipple the same treatment as the left: broad licks directly over, sharp bites underneath, all while his hands trace the skin around her ribcage.

“One of my favorites,” he murmurs, kissing a line down her torso, “starts just like this. I’m making you feel so good-“

“Could be- better,” Anya gasps, her stomach jumping under his hands and lips.

“And Sid knocks on the door. I tell him we’re busy, but he just knocks again, you know stubborn he gets.”

“Uh-hhh,” Anya whines, as Evgeni slips two fingers into the tight, wet heat of her cunt.

“So I tell him,” Evgeni mutters, licking slow, broad stripes between the lips of her labia. “I tell him that he either has to leave us alone or join us.” He spreads his fingers and starts to push them in and out, slow, but not gentle. “And he comes in, of course.”

“Sidnechka!” Anya cries out. Evgeni covers up his smirk by replacing his fingers with his tongue, moaning when his wife’s thighs close around his head like a vice (or a boa constrictor, catching its prey), her hand almost tight enough in his hair to pull it out.

“Is that what you call him,” he gasps when she lets him free, replacing his fingers and driving them in fast but shallow. “In your head, is that what you think of him? As your Sidnechka?”

Anya whines, her shoulders hunched forward, the shorter strands of her hair sticking to her face with sweat, her eyes wild.

“Do you want to hold him? Kiss him?” Evgeni partners a particularly sharp thrust with a slight pressure of his thumb to the side of her clitoris. “Do you want to put him on his knees?”

“Yes,” she sobs, her back bowing, right hand digging into his scalp and her left clenched in the sheets.

“You want him to make you feel good, make you come?”

“Yes!” Anya cries, so loud it’s almost a scream.

Evgeni lets her tug his head up, almost bringing his fingers out too until she clamps her thighs shut around his wrist. “Was I good for you, my love?” he murmurs.

“Just kiss me, you fucking idiot,” Anna pants, and- well. It’s certainly no hardship to obey his wife’s demand.

She keeps her hand in his hair, scratching her nails against his scalp soothingly, tugging sharply when she decides he’s having too much fun teasing her. “Make me come again,” she says. “And then fuck me.”

“With my fingers again? Or my mouth?”

She bites his lip, hard enough that it’s still stinging when she pushes him back down her body. “Both.”

He normally tries to spend as much time as possible eating her out, but he senses that she’s a little too impatient for that tonight, so he only spends a little time warming her pussy back up with his mouth before he starts back up a grueling pace with his fingers.

“So,” he says, biting a soft impression of his front teeth into the inside of her thigh. “I told you one of my fantasies.”

Anya hums, her eyes closed, her lips turned up.

“So it’s only fair if you tell me one of yours, right?”

“Is that- so,” Anya asks, her voice hitching in the middle.

“Oh yes,” Evgeni murmurs, curling the tips of his fingers.

“God,” Anya gasps. “I want his mouth on my tits.” She twists one of her nipples, as if to make a point.

“Yeah,” he hums, tonguing the side of her clit. “You want his mouth on your tits while I’m eating your cunt?”

“Oh, shit,” Anya whimpers, her fingers clenching deliciously tight in his hair. “Fuck, I want him eating my cunt.”

“Am I sucking your tits, then, in this hypothetical?”

“No,” Anya says, digging her nails into his scalp. “I’m sucking your dick.”

The vibrations from his moan push her over into her second orgasm, easier than the first. He kisses the crease between her thigh and groin as she comes down, one of his thumbs still moving up and down between her slick labia. He kisses his way up her body, ripping open a condom packet as he settles his forehead between the valley of her breasts.

“Would you want him to fuck you,” he murmurs, pushing himself up, putting his weight on his left forearm, sliding the condom on with his right hand.

Anya makes sure they’re holding eye contact when she says, “I want him to come in me and for you to eat me out after.”

Evgeni grips the base of his dick so tight it hurts to keep himself from coming. “Good God, woman,” he chokes.

“I have never gone easy on you,” Anya chuckles. “Why should this be any dif-“ she cuts herself off, gasping when Evgeni thrusts in. “Different,” she breathes, eyes slipping shut. She slips her hand from the top of his head to the nape of his neck, squeezing slightly, her thumb an insistent pressure at the hinge of his jaw. “I want to put him on his knees,” she murmurs, her knees squeezing his hips between them, telling him that he’s allowed to move. “I want to hold him while you fuck his face, when you fuck his ass. I want to show him how to fuck you best, to sit on his goddamn face and keep him there until he’s covered in my come.”

She keeps up a near-constant litany of words while he fucks into her, pausing only to breathe or order him around some more. It’s exhilarating, Evgeni thinks, one hand tight around the curve of Anya’s hip. Finally being able to talk about Sidney- what he wants to do to Sidney- and for her to snap back with her own fantasies? It’s a wonder he hasn’t come yet.

“I can’t wait to get my hands on his ass,” Anya groans, clenching her pussy down on his cock. Evgeni moves one of her legs from around his waist to up over his shoulder. “Fuck, Zhenya, as soon as you get your shit together, I want my hands on his ass.” Evgeni growls in response, snapping his hips faster. “Promise me, Zhenya,” Anya gasps insistently. “Promise you’ll let me, as much as I want.”

“I- promise,” Evgeni gasps, trembling, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose, as his muscles lock up. He’s careful to pull out slowly, and lets the bed catch him as he drops to Anya’s right.

“Fucking Christ,” he pants, chest heaving, blinking white spots from his vision. Anya only hums in response, her eyes closed and a smug grin on her face.

X

After they’ve cleaned up, put on some semblance of pajamas, and have tucked themselves into bed, Anya turns to him. “I know Sidney’s here for you,” she starts, her voice soft. “But I can’t help but feel like- like it’s meant to be all of us, you know?”

“He’s only here because of you,” Evgeni points out. “Because of your kind heart. You convinced me to ask him here, even though I know it hurt you in the process.”

She looks away but doesn’t deny it.

“You’re the one who convinced him to come here,” Evgeni continues. “Sidney Crosby, the most stubborn man I know.”

“It’s not like it was that hard to convince him anyway.” Anya rolls her eyes, but the way the tips of her ears pink up betrays her. “Besides,” she says, pulling Evgeni in for a kiss. “I have a feeling it’s going to be fairly easy from here on out.”

[kosmosian-quills]

Dire Diagnosis

A little something for @cirianne set in her Street Magic universe. A young Lilly Atwood is learning of her magical abilities, and the life of her and her family is about to change forever. This was a lot of fun to write, honestly, I love Gwen and the kids. Enjoy!

POV: Gwen

This hour, this hour right now, is the one chance at peace, quiet and relaxation that I am permitted before everyone returns home and delves the household into chaos.

I’m laid down on the sofa haphazardly, not quite caring about how one of my feet are hanging off the edge of the cushions. I’ve closed my eyes, simply enjoying the silence, not even focussing on a single thing outside of this deep breath I’ve taken after all my work today.

I’ve been for the groceries, I’ve done the laundry, I’ve cleaned the house and I’ve prepared dinner – all I need to do is heat it when Charles returns home later – but I need to pick Max up from kindergarten shortly, so I should enjoy this moment while it lasts. At least the twins can make their own way home alone. Is there anything I’ve forgotten to do so far?

No, Gweneth, absolutely not.

I should not think about this at all, I should be proud that I’ve got a little while to myself for now, I shouldn’t think about this. I need to relax -

Brrrrrrring, brrrrrrring, brrrrrrring!

I should have known it would be too good to last.

I groan in frustration as I make my way to the phone on the edge of the coffee table, briefly looking at the numbers. 12:04, Oakbank High School. I do a double take on the numbers before I accept the call, it’s entirely unusual for them to call home. Not rare – there have been occasions where I have been asked to pick up one of them when they’ve been sent home ill, or Peter has been acting up and needed me to speak with him and his tutors.

Peter, that’s what this is about. What has that boy done now?

Just a few weeks ago he got into a fight with some older students over something trivial, and I had to go speak to him there. He was sporting a split lip and a black eye, and I had to listen drowning in shame to the mother of the older boy insisting that my son apologise to hers. Peter had insisted that it wasn’t his fault. The older boy had been shoving him in the locker room and this time he ended up ripping his schoolbag, so he only did what he thought was a suitable punishment.

Peter’s a good boy, really, but the school could not simply overlook the fact that my son was the one to get violent here. I tried to stick up for him, I did, but the other boy’s mother would never let me get a word in edgeways. She was out for his blood, and I just sat there. I think I let him down that day, we had sat in silence in the car journey home and he simply locked himself away in his room when he got home. He wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to talk to him, and Charles didn’t fare much better when I told him what had happened.

I feel my chest tighten at the possibility of another incident with Peter, this time worse than before. I picked up the phone, slowly and carefully. “Hello, Atwood residence?”

“Good afternoon, I’m calling on behalf of Oakbank High School’s Nurse’s office, am I speaking to Gwen Atwood?”

The nurse. One of them is simply ill. I release the breath I had been holding in and continue to talk to them.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“I’m afraid we need you to come in, urgently, and collect Lilly. It’s serious, and we need you here as soon as possible.”

The fear that had been expunged from me came back to my lungs with a vengeance. I felt the blood drain from my face, and I was barely coherent. Something’s happened, something serious, Lilly has been hurt or injured or worse -

“What? Has something happened? Is she okay?”

“I’m afraid I cannot discuss it over the phone, how soon can you be here?”

I arrived at the school in record time, and was instantly led to the nurse’s office. There were three people inside, aside from my daughter, sat with her knees together and her hands clutching at the hem of her skirt, just above the knee. The moment I entered the room, she looked up at me – her face was pale, her green eyes wide with terror and tears streaming down her face.

The other three adults looked like the nurse, the Principal, and some other well-dressed person of importance, but I don’t know who he is.

She shot to her feet and wrapped her arms around my waist within seconds. “Mom,” her voice was raspy and weak, but she looked physically okay. I had expected her to be covered in cuts or bruises or blood or a sick combination of all three, but the only thing wrong with her here that I can see is how upset she is.

“What’s happened? Are you alright, Lilly?”

“I’m afraid, Mrs Atwood, that your daughter will not be attending our school anymore.” The Principal stated matter-of-factly. “Effective immediately.”

All of the air was sucked out of my lungs the moment he said that. Lilly, being expelled? No, absolutely not. I can’t believe this. She’s never even so much as had detention before. She’s a straight-A student, she works hard and tries hard and has good relations with her teachers, just what is going on here?

“What do you mean? Please tell me, what’s happened?”

The nurse was the next one to speak up, her normally gentle voice and calm demeanour suddenly filled with seriousness and… somehow, a little cold.

“You’re aware that the Council requires all students to undergo mandatory regular blood tests four times a year?” I nodded slowly in response. “Ma’am, your daughter is affiliated with magic. It’s not showing yet, but she will do in the next few months, and I’m afraid that the school policy on the matter is removal from public school.”

I look down at my daughter, who is trembling like a leaf and clutching at my coat, not looking at me directly, before I finally found my voice.

“Lilly? No, no that’s not right. How, why, why would it just be Lilly? She has a twin brother, surely he’d be…”

“A lot of progress has been made on the discovery of magic in young people, Mrs Atwood, but I’m afraid that the fact remains that we don’t know everything. Your son simply doesn’t show any signs of magic, we’ve even tested him twice with another sample to be safe. Your son shows no signs of magic at all.”

The person beside the Principal, the well-dressed one, spoke this time. “The decision stands, Mrs Atwood. I’m here to explain what happens now, because she cannot continue her education here, for her safety and the safety of others.”

Lilly. A mage, I can’t believe this, I honestly wish I was dealing with Peter’s disciplinary issues right now. I wish he had been in another fight. I would rather face that than face this.

Mages are dangerous, they’re nobodies, they’re evil things who only seek to cause harm, that’s why it’s so important to educate them.

But not Lilly, Lilly is and always has been a good girl, she doesn’t deserve this!

“You can’t, please, she’s just a young girl –“

“They all are, ma’am, but you have to understand that we need to ensure she doesn’t harm herself or others,” they reached into their suit pocket and handed me a card, “as you can see, I am a liaison for the Council in the Discovery of Mages. I’m here to make sure her transition is as smooth as possible for the both of you.”

“How… it can’t be true…”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ve had this same conversation with hundreds of mothers like yourself, and as rare as magic is, it’s real and it has awakened in your daughter. You understand that we cannot simply ignore this, it has to be reported.”

---

“Are you mad at me?”

Lilly broke the silence first, looking at me with her wide emerald eyes. Her voice had wavered, she sounded like she was going to cry, I caught that tremble as she ended her question.

“Of course not,” I didn’t look at her, mainly because I was still driving. I couldn’t take my eyes off the road for too long, “why would you think that?”

“Because it’s all my fault.”

“No, sweetie, of course it’s not your fault –“

“It is, Mom! I’m, I’m just like those monsters that keep making trouble. I’m just like them!”

“Lilly –“

“Dad always said he hated what mages are, they’re troublemakers and they need controlling and punishing for their crimes. Dad’s gonna kill me!”

I couldn’t take this anymore. Her sobs were breaking my heart. I punched on the hazard lights and pulled into the side of the road, slowing to a halt and turning to my daughter, leaning over the gearbox and handbrake to pull her close to me.

She’s crying into my shirt so heavily, she sounds so utterly terrified that I can feel her shaking as she sobs into me – I feel like I’m a truly terrible mother. There’s nothing I can do to stop what will happen to her soon – she’ll be taken away to one of the academies for her education, and the thought of her leaving home like this is truly awful to think about. I

“Listen to me, Lilly, I love you so much, and none of this is your fault. Do you understand?” I asked through my own tears, wiping them away quickly with my fingers. “Your father loves you, and you know he does. He is not going to kill you for this, because he knows you’re not like the others.”

“I’ve, I – I’ve heard th-things, M-Mom…” she mumbled, “ab-out the acad-demies…”

“They’re just rumours, Lilly,” I tried to sound reassuring, but I knew that the weakness in my voice did nothing to establish confidence in my daughter, “you’ll see Uncle Jason when you’re there though, you know it’s his job to look after the students.”

“But what if, if they’re not rumours, Mom? What if they’re real?”

I didn’t have an answer to that, and I couldn’t even do anything more to reassure her. We just sat there in the car for a while, and I wanted to keep her there forever, to not make her go through such an ordeal.

But I must.

[bat-lings]

Opinion on Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne relationship as a father-son?

ALRIGHT the human rambling disaster that I am struck again

Jump to the conclusion if it’s too long!

It’s just really hard discussing anything about Jason without acknowledging the sheer mess that DC’s whims made of him. To take that inconsistency into account let’s consider his relationship with Bruce from three angles:

Before Jason’s death / during his Robin days as portrayed before Starlin;

Before Jason’s death / during his Robin days as portrayed since Starlin and up until Jason’s resurrection, through mentions & flashbacks;

Post-resurrection.

Sadly enough the first era is the only one that bothers to portray a father-son dynamic with enough content to have a real opinion on, but I’ll take what I have. And what we have then is pretty great.

Jason’s Robin days

We’re in the 80’s, and Jason & Bruce’s relationship is the most ridiculously pure thing to have graced our poor souls. It’s soft and good.

They have great interactions, a real proximity, and overall bring a lot into each other’s life. Alfred and Bruce are happy to have another kid at home, and Jason is as much in need of guidance & of a family as any other kid. Jason doubts himself a lot and Bruce does his best to reassure him. He’s also is a teasing little shit and that’s great.

[Batman #377 || Detective Comics #579]

[Detective Comics (1937) #573]

JASON YOU’RE TOO CUTE. Also the tired dad feel is strong in that one lmao. Jay, lad, my son, my life,, what have you done to the newspaper,,,,

Ahem right, less gushing more commenting.

As you can see, Jason and Bruce’s relationship before his death/resurrection is pretty peachy. The slice of life sequences strengthen their father-son bond into the reader’s mind. We’re shown they’re father and son rather than just told so.

At some point Bruce’s custody of Jason is temporarily threatened, and that arc is a vivid telling of how strong their bond is.

[Detective Comics #542 || Batman (1940) #377]

Just. That whole speech. “Only Jason is real.” Definitely one of my favorite papa-bat moments.

And as Robin? Jason is clever, often brings valuable insight during cases, and respects Bruce’s teaching and authority. Bruce makes a good job at addressing Jason’s insecurities and guiding him, both through his training and by honing his moral compass.

(Note that I said honing, ‘cause Jay’s moral sense is very much present well before he meets Bruce. He was cool with stealing to survive but Ma Gunn’s school was too much for him.)

He’s initially nothing like the violent angry kid he’s now known as. Pre-Starlin, the only times Jason acts brashly is when confronted with his father’s killer. When Bruce addresses the matter, it’s not about blaming or judging him. ‘Cause he gets it, but it’s also his job to make sure Jason’s not compromised.

[Detective Comics #580 & 581]

And when Jason promises to keep himself in check, it’s all it takes for Bruce to take him back on the case. That’s how much he trusts him. Read the end of the issue and see how Jason proves himself worthy of that trust.

Not only does Jason understand Bruce as much as Bruce understands him, but he’s very perceptive in general. He tends to be straightforward with what’s on his mind… at least when it comes to calling out Bruce lol

[Detective Comics #579]

(They’re talking about Leslie on the last one btw. She was Bruce’s surrogate mom after his parents’ death and they have a great dynamic. Another pearl straight outta the 80′s!)

They get each other, they trust each other, they respect each other. Honestly Bruce’s relationship with Jason was the most healthy he’s had with any of his kids.

We can kiss all of that goodbye after Starlin has his way with Jason. And since Starlin’s “““characterization””” is the one that crossed the years, of all things, we can consider Jason’s initial portrayal pretty much retconed— and his relationship with Bruce with it. Shame, huh?

Of Flashbacks and Victim-Blaming Robin days, 2.0

From the 90’s to the reboot there is… few material about Jason’s relationship with Bruce. Or about Jason outside of his death/Robin.

Whether Jason is mentioned or appears in a flashback, the goal isn’t to recall a father-son relationship. It’s to drive through the point that Jason was reckless and violent. That new portrayal has its predictable impact on their relationship, and that’s pretty much all there is to say.

[Gotham Knights #43]

Obviously Bruce doesn’t trust Jason, since Jason is now a “reckless angry kid who likes to inflict pain on criminals”. Beatty delivers cool stories, but if you read that arc you’ll see that he lies it very thick when it comes to victim-blaming Jason.

Depending which writer/comic book you’re reading, it’s implied or affirmed that Jason is Bruce’s son. You’ll probably have a line about Bruce’s unending guilt, or Jason’s (*sigh*) recklessness. Mostly Jason’s a cautionary tale addressed to either Tim (who never gave much of a shit about Jason btw) or Cass (Batgirl #7 is a rare instance where it’s done without victim-blaming because Pucket is da bomb).

But there’s legit no material about Jason’s childhood in the Manor, or how him and Bruce acted around one another, what they talked about, Jason’s personality aside of “angry”, how Bruce addressed his son’s self-doubts – oh right modern!Jason is an arrogant brat who claimed the Robin mantle for himself so that’s out.

DC rolled with Starlin’s portrayal, and didn’t bother to construct anything else between Jay & Bruce to replace the parts they chose to erase.

[Batman (1940) #645]

The point is: Jason and Bruce’s father-son relationship before Jason’s death is barely spoken of. We don’t know shit about how Jason was as a kid. Bruce loved him but didn’t trust him since his “mean streak” made him sooo dangerous and unmanageable. That’s it. Jason is the bad Robin first, the dead Robin second, and Bruce’s son last.

Resurrection and onward

Jason and Bruce’s relationship post-resurrection is complicated, for obvious reasons, and has interesting potential. My main problem with it is that it’s seldom addressed after Jason makes his dramatic return in UtH & the arc is closed.

For all that I have a love-hate relationship with Winick’s writing, and for all that I don’t like everything he’s done with Jason, his narrative is mostly coherent (and a good read overall!).

Winick doesn’t talk outward about Jason and Bruce’s bond before Jason’s death, but enough is implied. Jason’s damaged psyche centers around Bruce and what wrongs Jason considers to have suffered from him. He reorganizes his entire identity and actions around Bruce.

It’s not only consistent with Jason’s mental health at this stage, it’s telling of Bruce’s importance for him. The same way Bruce must have been his world after he took him out of the streets, Bruce is still very much his world when Jason is on a vengeance frenzy.

Killing Bruce, taking revenge against Bruce, making a point to Bruce; everything is about Bruce. It’s the whole “the opposite of love is apathy not hate” thing. DC could’ve expanded on that and made it evolve into whatever, but they just, y’know. didn’t.

[Batman (1940) #650]

I like Under the Hood and Lost Days well enough except for the Jason/Talia ugh. Problem is, DC obviously had no idea what to do with Jason after that, so his relationship with Bruce stays at a status quo.

Post-resurrection Jason isn’t so much estranged family than an antagonist who makes some cool appearances here and there— when they’re not so terribly written that they make me cringe.

There are some other interesting things here and there, giving depth to Jason’s estrangement from Bruce & the batfam…

[Green Arrow (2001) #72]

… but those elements are few and far between, and fail to establish a solid construction/development of any kind between Jason and Bruce. UtH!Jason put on some interesting bases but afterwards? Jason as a character is stagnating, and so is his relationship with any member of the batfam.

And then there’s the n52 & Rebirth I guess. It obviously wants to deliver a father-son narrative, but doesn’t do great job at it. Again, aside from a few cute scenes, the “he’s my son but he does baaaad things” eternal dilemma, and Jason’s newfound proximity with the batfam coming out of nowhere (especially with Tim wtf), I didn’t find much content to have a solid opinion on.

(Salty) conclusion

My opinion of Jason & Bruce’s father-son relationship is that it’s hella cute pre-Starlin and that Winick’s version of it makes sense within his Under the Hood & Lost Days narrative (I personally cut out “bad seed Jason” and keep most of the rest).

I think we lost a lot of potential when Starlin’s work became the reference. I think the Red Hood and his baggage with the whole fam could’ve been richer and more interesting if Jason’s initial characterization was kept in mind.

Yes, Jason and Bruce’s initial relationship could’ve used some more tension/conflict in between the sweet moments but… as far as I’m concerned Starlin’s writing wasn’t the way to go.

I think the only way to build a coherent interpretation of Jason & his relationship with the fam is to make a patchwork of canon elements and to fill in the blanks yourself. Thus what I have on Jason & Bruce that takes the Red Hood into account isn’t so much an “opinion” on canon material than a personal construction.

I’m sorry Anon, I bet that’s not what you expected when you sent that ask, but it’s all I have to give :’) Hope the answer is still okay & thanks for the ask!