#I’ll add descriptions later lmao

[orionlancasterr]

My OC’s!

Noose- Courier Six and Follower

Rust- Lone Wanderer and Minutemen General

Arson- Vault Dweller

Radio- Prisoner and Scavver

Emil- Champion of Kirkwall

Valen- Hero of Ferelden

Thea Brosca- also hero of ferelden

Oliver cousland- also also hero of ferelden

Camriel Surana- Inquisitor

Skunk- Far Cry 5

Saturn- Far Cry 5

Judas- Far Cry 5

[rafecameronsmistress]

NO ESCAPE

description] Fem Reader x Rafe Cameron x Barry

[summary] After a rough breakup Rafe sends Barry out to find you at a party and what they have for you in store is a nightmare full of pleasure

[cw + tw] 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, abusive relationship, physical abuse, strong language, stalking, non con, alcohol use, drug use, gun use, life threatening, degrading talk, angst, fear, embarrassment, SMUT

[authors note] this one is VERY long and has VERY sensitive triggers, please read at your own risk

‼️ADULT CONTENT AHEAD‼️

Enjoy 🖤

________________________________

Text messages:

- Kie: hey are you coming to Sarah’s party tonight? it’s at the water, i can pick you up

- y/n: i dont know.. after everything that happened with Rafe im afraid he’ll show up and i don’t want to see him right now

- Kie: Sarah told me he wasn’t going because she invited pogues lmao

- y/n: i’ll think about it, i’ll call you in an hour or so

- Kie: kk <3

Rafe and i dated for a year before things got bad, we had our ups and downs but never did i expect him to put his hands on me in a violent way

Rafe hit me for the first time a month ago, he said he was sorry and that he just couldn’t handle the way things were going with his family and business

i gave him the benefit of the doubt because he has been under so much stress and sometimes i add to the problem

two days later he hit me again and split my lip open then screamed in my face because i got blood on his shirt

slowly his i love you’s turned into i hate you’s

it’s hard because i love him so much, he was the picture boyfriend, until he wasn’t

i hid the abuse, i didn’t want people to know, just incase he changed

my friends know we ended badly but they just assumed it’s because Rafe is an asshole, everybody knows he is

the first time he threatened to kill me was the day that i left, that was only a week ago

he held me down on the floor of his bedroom with one hand around my throat and the other holding his pistol to my temple “the next time you speak to me like that again i’m going to put a bullet in your fucking skull, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” his words spit on me like venom

a part of me misses him and that’s why i don’t want to see him tonight, i’ll cave and end up going home with him, i know i will, because i love him

i lay down in bed and close my eyes, i’ll make a decision in a little while

i fall asleep for a few hours and when i wake up i have another text from Kie

Kie: so Sarah and i decided you ARE coming because we need you!! she told me Rafe will not be there, the boys are coming too nothing bad is going to happen!! get dressed bitch i’ll pick you up at 7

i text JJ, John B, and Pope in a group chat

- me: hey all 3 of you are going to Sarah’s party tonight right?

- John B: yeah i’m here now helping her set up

- Pope: yes i’m picking Cleo up soon

- JJ: yep Kie called me and told me that you’re afraid Captain Douchebag will show up so obviously i will be there… and i would like to drink some alcohol…

- me: thanks boys, see you later <3

i let out a sigh of relief, at least those 3 will be able to handle Rafe if he shows up

i undress myself to take a shower and run my fingers over my yellow healing rib cage where Rafe had kicked me a couple weeks ago

tonight will be fun. tonight will be fun. tonight will be fun. i try to convince myself, i deserve to go out

after i shower i do my hair and makeup then get dressed

i throw on a short pink dress and my birkenstock sandals

7:03pm

text message

- Kie: i’m here

Kie is in my driveway playing music on full blast and dancing like a nut which makes me laugh, i’m always thankful for her trying to lift my spirits

We jam out in the car and get ourselves pumped for the party

When we get there i scan the entire lot for Rafes pickup or dirt bike, neither of which i see

“Relax y/n, he’s not coming” Kie says, she grabs my hand and holds it, we share a smile, hers excited, mine nervous

A giant bonfire glows in the middle of a heard of people

Loud music, beer, liquor, and over 100 people- kooks and pogues combined…

if Rafe isn’t coming, he at least has someone watching

i immediately grab a drink to loosen up so i can enjoy tonight, the first one goes down like water so i pour myself a second

“whoaaa slow down there killa, you’re drinking like me right now!” JJ laughs while nudging my arm “i’ll be right here all night, enjoy yourself, i got you” he says with the sweetest smile

i’m on my 3rd drink and 2nd shot, my cheeks feel rosy and i have the urge to move my hips “Sarah! come dance with me!” i demand while holding out my hand

“sorry babe, my girl needs me” she says to John B getting up from his lap, she grabs hold of my hand and we dance, solo cups in the air

the boys stay close by and enjoy watching us make a fool of our selves while they smoke a joint

my phone vibrates

text message:

- Rafe: don’t drink so much, you’ll get sick

tunnel vision. nausea. panic. swallow it, don’t let anybody know.

“i’ll be right back” i tell Sarah “i need to fill my cup”

“okay” she furrows her eyebrows “you okay?”

i give her a nod and the best smile i could

once i’m out of sight i run to Kie’s car, hopping in and locking the doors, i need to sit down, my heart is pounding out of my chest, i can hear the blood rushing in my ears

*knock knock* i jump out of my skin, i’m met face to face with Barry

“open the door sweetheart” he smiles flashing his gold teeth

this can’t be happening.

i go to grab my phone to call JJ. where is my it?

Barry waves my phone in front of my face taunting me. how the fuck did i drop it?

“open the door y/n, don’t make this difficult” he tugs on the handle “open it, i’m not playing witchu right now” i shake my head “country club wants you to come wit me, y’aint safe here without him” his eyes grow darker, i don’t budge

he gets on the phone, he’s calling Rafe “you either come out on your own or i call him and he pulls you out, your choice” i’m scared. i don’t want to make Rafe mad. but i don’t want to see him. i’m getting a headache.

i make the dumbest decision of my life. i open the door, my hands shaking 100mph.

“that’s it, let’s get you home” he says grabbing my hand hard

my face is burning up. my legs grow weak under me. i’m stone cold sober at this point.

we approach the truck, “Barry please“ i plead “i’m sorry mama, y’know him” he helps me into the passenger seat and buckles me in, “can i have my phone please, i need to tell my friends i went home” i cry “can’t letchu do that, what’s ya password, i’ll text ‘em for you” he says, i shake my head rejecting the offer

he starts the truck and we take off

his phone rings “yeah i got her, she was a good girl, she didn’t fight me” he smirks “we’ll be there soon”

i stay silent, Barry puts his hand on my thigh and i flinch at his touch “what’s wrong sweet thing, scared of a little love?” he laughs

we pull up to Tannyhill, Rafe is standing out front with a whiskey glass in his hand, he raises it and smiles at me

my stomach is in knots

i want to scream for help and run

the other half of me wants to jump into his arms and submit

Barry gets out of the truck and walks around opening my door “c’mon, get out” i jump down and fix my dress and fix a smile in attempt to hide my mixed feelings

“you look nice, who’d you get dressed up for?” Rafe asks “nobody” i reply, he laughs “sexy little thing isn’t she?” he asks Barry, “yessir” he grins

i want to crawl inside my own skin

Rafe grabs me by the arm “let’s get inside” he looks at Barry “you comin? you’re not gonna want to miss this”

he brings me to the couch and sits me down, “what to do with you?” he ponders finishing his drink

“Rafe i want to go home” i whimper

“and you know what i want? a girlfriend that doesn’t dress like a slut and go to parties without me” he seethes “since you wanna act like a slut, take your clothes off, i’ll treat you like a slut” his eyes filled with fury

“i’m not your girlfriend anymore” i whisper

“what was that?” he cocks his head to the side

“nothing” i say

i stand up and slowly pull my dress over my head, my knees becoming weak, leaving me exposed in just my panties in front of him and Barry

“lay down on the couch” he demands, i obey “now touch yourself”

“Rafe please i-“ there’s no use in begging, i bring one hand down to my pussy and run it up and down my panties, the thought of them watching begins to turn me on no matter how hard i try to reject the feeling

“she’s sweet” Barry says licking his lips

“wait til you taste her” Rafe says deviously

their words go straight to my heat, i rub my clit in circles arching my back, trying not to let out a sound

“come here” i say holding my hand out to Rafe, my pussy aching for him

“you’re gonna finish yourself off first” he smirks

Barry adjusts himself clearly growing hard, Rafe watches me like a hawk not missing a beat

i pick up the pace now craving dick inside of me, i throw my head back and whimper coming closer to an orgasm, the band in my belly snaps and my legs start convulsing, i ride out my orgasm and when i’m finished i beg to be fucked “come here- please”

Rafe looks at Barry “try her out” he says patting him on the back

the look of fear on my face. Rafe would never let someone else look at me nevermind fuck me.

“since you wanna act like a slut..” he says shrugging his shoulders, then topping off his whiskey

i become embarrassed, im attracted to Barry but being on display is not something im used to

Barry gets comfortable in the chair and pats his lap, he undoes his belt and slides his pants down to his knees, his hard on is enormous even through his boxers

i try to contain my arousal and walk toward him, looking at Rafe for approval, he nods

i lower myself to my knees and pull Barry’s erection from his boxers, it fills my entire hand

“i ain’t even gotta ask to get my dick sucked, you got this one trained man” he laughs

Rafe walks behind me and manspreads on the couch enjoying every second of this

i seal my mouth on Barry, bobbing my head up and down while working my tongue inside “shhhit” he groans, saliva begins dripping out the sides of my mouth

i go to work on his swollen cock, his moans encouraging me to get the job done “that’s it baby” he takes a sharp breath in

“get up and sit on him, facing me” Rafe commands from behind

i rise from the floor, turn around, push my panties to the floor and kick them off

i slowly seat myself on Barry’s length, i gasp taking all of him inside my cunt

his hands reaching in front of me to grab my breasts, he holds onto them and starts pumping into me from below

i try to hold myself up on the arms of the chair while i’m staring directly into Rafe’s lust filled eyes

“ohhmygod- yes- fuck me-” i moan in between breaths

“how does she feel?” Rafe growls not taking his eyes off of me “like a million bucks country club” Barry replies while slamming his hips into my ass repeatedly

“flip her onto the chair and fuck her brains out” Rafe instructs

Barry pulls me off his lap and flips me around, my chest pushed into the chair and my ass in the air he slams into me showing no mercy

i can’t control the sounds coming from my mouth, moaning, whimpering, and screaming at the way i’m being used

Barry pulls out of me and releases on my ass leaving my pussy dripping “you like that shit huh?” he says rubbing my slit from behind “taste her” Rafe says, Barry sticks his fingers in his mouth savoring the taste of me “just like candy” he tells Rafe

my torso still on the chair and my knees on the floor i lay there weak, trying to control my breathing

Barry gets dressed and pours himself a glass of liquor, sitting in the other chair

“c’mon we’re not done, get up” Rafe says, i try to stand but my legs are weak “i think you broke her” he laughs looking at Barry “sorry man, she’s got great pussy” he says

Rafe walks over to me and wraps his hand around my throat, lifting me to my feet, he sloppily kisses me and without warning plummets two fingers inside of me causing me to scream

“who’s pussy is this?” he asks pushing deeper inside of me, “it’s yours” i choke out, his hand still tight around my wind pipe,

“say it again” he growls

“it’s yours Rafe, i’m all yours” i plead

his hand slips into my hair and he guides me to the couch by my head using me like a rag doll

he throws me down on my stomach then pulls my hips into the air

“look at you, you’re a fuckin mess” he smacks my pussy causing me to cry out “you like that?” he smacks it again, i wince in a mixture of pain and pleasure

Rafe pulls me up by the back of my head “open your mouth” i open and he sticks his fingers inside, i suck his fingers just like i would suck his cock, Rafe loves having his fingers in my mouth “dirty fuckin slut” he says

he removes his fingers and forces them into my tender vagina, he works his hand slowly like he’s dissecting my insides, i move my hips back and forth trying to fuck his hand my pussy screaming to be pounded

“she just can’t get enough huh?” Barry says “i told you she was a good one” Rafe smiles

his slides his warm fingers out of me and spits on my cunt, i feel it drip down to my clit “please-“ i look back at him

Rafe pulls his shorts and boxers down exposing his delicious throbbing cock, he’s leaking precum

i brace myself

he taps the back of my pussy with his dick a few times before sliding it in, i feel myself become full of him “i gonna fuck you like i hate you” he whispers

guttural screams escape my lips as he sinks deeper into my swollen used hole, he feels so good

he pushes my face into the couch “shut the fuck up and take it”

i turn my head to the side to catch my breath and see Barry sipping on his liquor enjoying every moment, i hold eye contact with him while i cry out

Rafe picks up the pace, the sound of our skin smacking engulfs the entire room

it all becomes too much, the overstimulation is extreme, i reach back trying to push him away

“i ain’t done” he growls grabbing both my arms and pinning them behind my back “i’m gonna fuck MY pussy as long as i want”

i’m screaming at this point, i can feel him in my stomach, a new sensation arises in my pussy, stronger then an orgasm “Rafe i- i can’t-“ and then i feel a release and a gush of liquid between my legs

“squirting on me like a dirty whore” he smacks my ass hard, “i fucking love it”

“please- please-“ i sob begging him to stop, my body convulsing, eyes rolling in the back of my head

Rafe slams into once more before cumming inside me, he pulls out and places a gentle kiss on my ass

my body goes limp and i lay flat on the couch, he pulls my hips back up and holds them there, “stay up til you soak all of me in”

i lay there defeated, used, and bruised

Rafe wipes the sweat from his brows and puts his pants back on, he walks over to the table and pours himself another glass of whiskey, clinking cups with Barry

they sit across from my numb body and watch me recover

“you’re such a good girl” Rafe praises “you’re never getting rid of me”

[evergreenfields]

Dust to Dust

For those OG Price fans, (lmao, I know y’all are out there. And I know he’s an old man, but he’s our old man.) Spoilers for the OG Modern Warfare 3. The fic’s title is the name of the last mission in the game, it’s iconic and the music is everything.

Pairing: OG Price x female reader, can be read as reboot Price x female reader if your heart desires

CW: descriptions of female body, fluff, PIV, smut, character deaths.

Your job is coordinating equipment and weaponry for the 141. You receive an order from Price that you know is for a man who isn’t coming back from the fight.

Price first came down to your office in the basement to thank you for procuring specific weapon parts. Captains never came down to the basement. He had a look in his eyes like he’d discovered something in you that no one else had.

Soon you shared evening walks around base, talking until night. He found he could unravel his thoughts with you. When he was deployed, he would recall your face in his mind lit with moonlight. Eventually he stole a kiss from you, you thought you even saw the mighty man blush.

He was hesitant what with being a commanding officer and a good few years older than you. He loved your comparative youthfulness but it also worried him, but in the end his need for you was absolute.

Later, you spent time off base at his house, being pressed into his mattress at night and grinding on top of him on the rare lazy mornings he had. You made dinner together and sat in the garden where he pointed out constellations. When he wasn’t deployed, he was a phone call away when you had a bad day. When he returned from deployment, he would tuck you into a hug under his chin. It was a domestic slice of life; a beautiful pact between two cogs in a violent machine.

You found his initial reluctance to get physical endearing and thrilling because you enjoyed pushing his buttons. He was surprised by how forward you were, caressing this thigh and opening buttons on your blouse while he drove you to a hiking spot.

“We won’t get there in one piece if you carry on like that, love.” He’d drawl in his sharp accent, one hand on the wheel, the other changing gear. His icy blue eyes were on yours for a moment, then flitting over your body before settling back on the road. You can see a smirk behind his grey beard. Luckily for you the car had spacious back seats.

You learned quickly that ‘muppet’ was his term of endearment, not necessarily just for you, but those in his inner circle. Calling you ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’ in his cockney accent was a soothing balm, reserved only for you.

You didn’t see much of him and the squad for a few months with constant missions, debriefings and the looming threat of WW3. When you’d heard about Soap being KIA, it took all of your restraint to not go upstairs and burst through Price’s door. The Captain didn’t need you running into his office, he was an astute professional when he wasn’t pushing into you with a strong grip on your hips.

When you finally saw him, he was crestfallen, greyer, tired. He allowed himself a minimal show of emotion, squeezed your arm and walked away into an urgent briefing. You watched him with a hole burning in your head and heart, knowing he needed space to process the grief.

Days later, a message comes through, you look through the list twice.

Soldiers didn’t come back with this weaponry and equipment, this was a suicide mission. They would be a part of the explosion radius.

You pick up the phone.

“Captain, can I confirm this? It’s-“

“It’s all there, Lieutenant.” His accent sharp enough to cut glass.

You know how much Soap meant to him. And Ghost. And Gaz. Losing them to one man was incomprehensible. Their losses were heavy on his shoulders.

“I’ll have it ready ASAP, sir.” You say, your voice even and professional.

The line goes dead.

2 LMGs fit for taking down helicopters.

2 juggernaut suits that will hold up to infantry fire - but not helicopters.

You notice your hands shaking. You add another few plates of armour that he can slot into the suit but you know he won’t use them. He will need speed for what he’s doing and any more weight would compromise his mission.

Hours later, a note appears on your desk with a set of house keys.

DON’T FINISH ALL MY WHISKEY. JOHN X

With a heart as heavy as the lead you were processing, you sent Price into hell with his death warrant and no way back.

Dust to Dust.

——

Taglist (never thought I’d have a taglist, thank you so much!)

@mipitt141

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [8]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 12,980

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, violence, mentions of canon violence, reader goes a little off the rails, a whole lot of arguing, description of drowning (it's a metaphor), mentions of death lol, mentions of canon decapitation (I mean Jason did do that), one of Dick's thoughts is inspired by him killing the Joker in Joker: Last Laugh because I mean hey, I promise I do fix everyone's dynamics with Bruce later I like when the entire batfam gets along, mentions of canon drug use and making a drug

Summary:❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: It's long again but it's important lmao Jason is in this chapter, just hang in there lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

The not-to-so funeral, funeral, is mostly a blur. For obvious reasons, the casket was closed the whole time. To you, it didn’t matter. You saw him. You saw him before and you saw him after. His mangled face stares back at you in the mirror. You didn’t need to see him like that again.

Bruce has the funeral within a day and a half, not informing any of the Titans or anyone. Molly only came because you knew and she came time to get there. You want to fight and scream about it but at this point, you're too exhausted. And you're so numb. And in pain, you're numb and in pain which doesn’t make any sense but everything hurts while you feel nothing at all. It’s like drowning but without the panic.

Your head throbs and that’s always the start. Pressure builds as you try to hold your breath because letting in the loss of Jason seems to be the worst possible thing you could ever do. With every breath you take, that’s less he got to take. Your head bangs and throbs, wailing for you to breathe and let the pain in for just a second. And once you do, it’s water rushing into your lungs with a single gasp.

Drowning is suffocating and agonizing. It’s as if your lungs are being stabbed over and over with tiny needles with every breath you try to take. Your lungs are filled with cement and stabbing, weighing you down with every desperate gasp. The water sloshes around, seeping into all of your open nerves with striking electricity. It’s the worst pain of your entire life.

You don’t care anymore. It’s hard and it’s like these are the longest days of your life. There’s just pain and numbness and anger. That’s all there is now. So, you only come out of her room for the bathroom and to watch Jason’s casket be lowered into the ground. You don’t leave your bed or say a word to Bruce for the first two days.

By day three, some of the sadness and exhaustion has manifested into more anger. It's all anger at the world and Bruce and the Joker and yourself. You're even, selfishly, a little bit mad at Jason even though you don't want to be. But, the anger builds until you can't sit still anymore and you set a plan into action.

You warned Bruce. You told him the Joker's death was inevitable. You'd do it if the Joker ever touched someone you cared about, if he ever touched Jason. Jason is dead and as far as you're concerned, your loyalty to Bruce and his morals died with him. So, you start a plan to break into Arkham and kill him yourself.

You wait until Bruce is asleep before you sneak into the Batcave and start your research. The Joker doesn’t get to just get away this time. He killed your mom. And now he killed Jason. You're fed the fuck up with Bruce letting him off. So, you plan and plot and look at blueprints of Arkham, trying to figure out how you can get in, kill him, and get out.

Jason always told you the grudges might help, something you find odd given him not being a grudge holder. But, being mad and wanting revenge against the Joker, is a lot better than dealing with the pain of losing him. So, you plan and plan until the late morning.

Dick and Gar show up that afternoon from San Francisco. Bruce told them you haven't left your room or eaten anything since Jason died. Dick is the one that tries to get to you first, figuring maybe he can break a little bit of the ice like when he brought you back to the tower.

He knocks on your door despite Bruce saying you won’t answer or come out. But Dick tries anyway and when he doesn’t get an answer, he opens the door anyway. You were once in his care. Jason was once in his care.

“Hey, you awake?” Dick asks, sticking his hands in his pockets as your back is faced away from him, laying on your side in one of Jason's favorite hoodies.

You ignore him, keeping your stare at the wall. Talking seems like it will be too much. It'll be him saying he's sorry for your loss and then you'll start crying again. It'll be him giving you a look and you hate getting looks. It's not Dick's fault. You're not mad at him, you can't afford to waste your energy being mad at him when it's already torn between grief-filled revenge and sobbing uncontrollably. The best thing you can do for yourself is ignore him. To ignore everyone. It's to push them away.

“Bruce said you haven’t been eating or leaving your room.” Dick walks further into your room, moving to get a look at you and he can see you're awake now but you don’t look at him. “You need to eat.” Dick states but you still won’t look at him. “I know it’s…hard. I know Jason meant a lot to you. You two went through a lot together. But, he wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

Dick says that on purpose, thinking maybe it’ll get a rise out of you. Maybe you’d say something like he wouldn’t know because he never knew Jason or he didn’t care enough about Jason to know what he would want. But you say nothing, you don’t look at him, and you don’t move. Dick would think you were dead if it were for the blankets moving with every breath you take.

“Okay, well, I’ll be down the hall. Gar is here and the other Titans will be here in a few days. You can come talk if you want.” Dick offers but again, nothing from you so Dick leaves you to yourself.

The tears come back as soon as you hear the door close. The weight in your chest is so heavy you can’t even bear it. You don’t know how. Things get heavy, you put it on Jason. Jason was so good at carrying your weight for you and now he’s gone. And you have no idea how you're ever supposed to carry the weight of losing him. You shouldn’t have to.

It’s not fair. It was senseless and cruel and brutal. And you think he must have been scared in his final moments. You wonder if he knew you’d be looking for him, maybe he thought you’d come to save him like you always did. But you let him down. A sob rips through your throat at the very thought and you can’t do it.

Gar tries again a few hours later. He’s going through it, too. It’s different with Dick. Dick got to know Jason better over the last few months but he didn’t know him like Gar did. They were best friends and they talked everyday. He’s the best friend Gar ever had and he’s going through the loss of it, too. But, a part of him is worried he’s going to lose you with him.

But, similar to Dick, you don't say anything and you feel bad about it even. You know it hurts him, too. They were best friends but it's too damn hard to look at him. You know, to some extent, Jason's blood is also on your hands. How are you supposed to tell Gar that? You can't and you swear you do not deserve the empathy that radiates from Gar. So, you ignore him only for him to sit with you anyway and turn on one of your mutually favorite movies.

Gar doesn't give up and you don't have to talk but he knows being alone in grief is not going to do you any good. Sitting with you is something he can do and if you decide still, not to talk, that's fine. But, he wants to be here just in case you do. And about halfway through the movie, you finally cave and turn around to face him with tear-stained cheeks.

"I know." Gar nods softly. "I miss him, too." Gar says softly.

You let out a sob, slamming your eyes shut. Gar reaches over and pulls you into a hug. The two of you break into each other’s arms. How are you supposed to figure out how to live your lives without him in them anymore? You’ve done it with your parents and Donna. You have done it and you can do it again but how? It’s so damn hard and it just keeps happening. You both keep losing people. How much loss can two people even take before it all becomes too much? You swears this is it. This is too much. Jason Todd was the last straw. You're tired of the circle.

Molly comes by the next day. You haven't been answering her texts or calls which isn't surprising. Molly decided to give you a couple of days to be alone before stopping by again. She needed those couple of days to gather herself, too. Jason was her best friend, too. but, Molly has something interesting to tell you and she hopes, given finding out about the vigilante life, maybe it'll get you to at least get out of bed.

"Hey." Molly calls and you wave your arm haphazardly at her from your bed. "I have something you might wanna know." Molly comes and plops down beside you.

You turn around slowly, eyes narrowing at her. You don't say anything, however, you decide just to listen. A really big part of you wants to push Molly away, too. It seems safer that way. But, it also seems cruel to do it again. You did it once and it was always something you regretted.

"Has Dick or Bruce mentioned the new crime lord?" Molly asks and you raise a brow. Molly asked around about him a little bit and that's what he's being referred to apparently. "Well, two nights ago, he showed up at my apartment with Diego."

"What?" You question immediately, your voice cracked and rugged.

"Yeah, he just showed up with him. He told me to get better locks?" Molly shakes her head. "I have no idea but Diego was fine."

"How would he even know about Diego and you?" You ask and Molly was right, it does pique your interest a little bit. You haven't heard anything about the new guy but it is interesting. New crime lord shows up and he drops off a missing kid unharmed? That shit is weird, even for Gotham.

"I have no idea. But, he seemed...familiar, I think but also really intimidating." Molly shakes her head. "I don't know but I thought you'd wanna know. Did you want to look into him for me?" Molly asks casually and hopefully.

You see through it. You know what Molly is trying to do and maybe it'll work a little bit. You're already looking into how you can get away with killing the Joker. You could squeeze this guy into it. Maybe it'll be a good distraction from the stabbing and suffocating pain of grief. You always did like to run from things that hurt. This is an opportunity to do just that and for a good cause. He knows where Molly lives and that's a problem.

"Are you just trying to get me out of bed?"

"A little bit." Molly laughs softly. "Jason would go after him, or look into him." 

You let out a scoff. "Yeah, probably." You roll your eyes. "Fine, but only because he showed up at your fucking apartment and that's weird as fuck. You do need better locks though."

"Yeah, I'll get to that." Molly quips back.

"Still have a Wayne credit card, want it to buy better locks?" You offer.

"You just wanna spite Bruce."

"And make sure you're safe. Sick of losing people."

"At least you're talking." Molly smiles widely.

"Yeah." You answer shortly.

That night, after everyone has gone into their rooms for the night, you go back to the Batcave and continue planning. But, on top of that, you do what you promised Molly. You start looking into the new so-called crime lord. He showed up at her apartment. That's reason enough for concern and you aren't about to lose another person. And of course, Bruce already has a file on him.

According to the file, he's already decapitated six men of the major drug families in Gotham. You give the screen a grimace reading the words and then going to autopsy reports. Decapitation is a personal way of murder. That seems weird for someone willing to drop off a kidnapped kid but you just keep reading over everything. You find out he also killed Pete Hawkins, this time with a bullet to the head which explains how he found Diego. But, you still find that confusing as you go back to Pete Hawkins' file.

He was just working with the Joker, not other families. Why the hell would the guy target scum like Pete Hawkins when he's going after the families? Going after the families means going after the drug trade in Gotham, not whatever weird shit the Joker had planned with kids. This whole thing is weird and if you were being honest, a little annoying. The Joker was just the first part of your plan.

The next step is men like Pete Hawkins, people working with the Joker. The new guy managed to already beat you to the punch and you find that to be annoying. There are others though, at least, and you can still target them as long as this guy doesn't. You're done with the way this city chews and eats the innocent. Bruce's ways clearly don't work enough. So, you continue your research spread across the new guy and the best way to get into Arkham.

The following night, Barbara comes over to have a drink with Bruce and Dick. Dick convinced her to come talk to Bruce. You can hear them from your room. They're laughing and you don't know how they even managed to get a laugh out. But, it piques your curiosity. Gar told you earlier that he's worried Dick might have you committed if you don't get up and try. This seems like an excuse enough to make an appearance, if for no other reason, than to just listen. They're talking about Jason.

"So, then, Jason corners Mad Hatter and he starts swearing at him like going off." Barbara says and you stop just before the entrance of the room to listen to the story. You lean against the wall, sucking in a breath. "Like 'you short fucking hat-wearing fuck' fuck you'. And Hatter stands there stunned that Robin's cussing him out. And then Bruce came in and do you remember what you said to Jason?" Barbara laughs.

"What?" Dick asks.

"Watch your language." Bruce says.

You gain a soft smile because that sounds like Jason. He'd tell anyone off. He didn't give a fuck who they were. You wish you could have seen the look on Hatter's face. But the smile falls short as Bruce brings up the GCPD finding eight bodies, clearly the new guy that showed up at Molly's apartment. He asks if they know who the killer is and this is why you can't stand him.

He never fucking stops. Jason is barely in the ground and he just keeps fucking moving. At least you're looking for revenge and looking into someone who might be a threat to Molly. Bruce is just doing it because it's Bruce. Not because he actually cares about Jason or the people this guy is gonna hurt. And he has the audacity to call what's going on in Gotham a war. for the soul of the city. You almost walk away but Barbara starts talking and you always liked her.

"I don't know, Bruce. Calling it a war feels like trying to justify all the lives that've been lost."

"I don't know, Bruce. Calling it a war feels like trying to justify all the lives that've been lost."

"Your father and I knew protecting Gotham required real sacrifice."

You nearly scream. He doesn't fucking get it. Innocent people shouldn't have to be sacrificed for a city. That isn't justice and you want to sit down and question his morals right to his face. Innocent people being sacrificed by Bruce and the GCPD is fine, but killing people like the damn Joker isn't justice? The logic doesn't add up and it's like some sick-ass game Bruce is playing here. But with people's lives. Maybe he can't kill them because he's too similar to the bad guys he lets live.

"My father died from a heart attack after being frozen in a block of ice by a man wearing a fucking refrigerator suit." Venom seeps into Barabara's voice.

"Mr. Freeze." Bruce corrects and you nearly bang your head against the wall.

"I know who he is." Barbara snaps back and there's a pause for a few seconds. "That's how you see my father, isn't it? As a sacrifice? You dragged him into this insanity. Just like you did Dick and Jason. And now y/n."

"It was a long time ago." Dick finally chimes in and you want to know how Dick doesn't see that Bruce has manipulated him so damn bad it's almost Stockholm syndrome.

"You know what he did to you, Dick. You almost lost yourself because Bruce weaponized your grief." Barabara says. "And Jason? You took another kid who was lost and angry and alone and convinced him that he'd be invincible if he put on a mask. No more Robins, Bruce. I chose to put the cowl on to go out there as Batgirl when the Joker shot me. That wasn't your fault. But you drove Dick away."

"We worked it out." Dick defends Bruce again.

You roll your eyes and you want to put him under a microscope and figure out exactly why he defends him so much. Apparently, his loyalty is deep but Bruce keeps Dick in the dark. And you know a little secret that might change that. Dick warned you about Bruce. You know he doesn't fully forgive him or trust him. And you're going to make sure it stays that way. You're all sacrifices to the city anyway, right?

"Whether you've forgiven him or not, he drove you away. And he put Jason in the ground. You would think that after everything that the Joker's done to so many people you would have found a way to keep him locked up. But part of me, a big part of me, believes that you want him to escape. So, you can keep hiding from yourself behind that mask. You're as crazy as the fucking Joker." Barbara spits and you smile. She's right and someone should have said it a long time ago.

The room falls silent and you think now is a good time to make yourself known. You agree with Barabra but there are some things you have to say and some things they need to hear, too.

"It's true." Your voice is groggy and cracked as you stand in the doorway, the entire room putting their eyes on you. "Babs is right." You glance to her and offer a nod.

"You're up." Dick's face softens.

"Yeah, heard you guys laughing. Heard the Hatter story. But, let's not get our hopes up here, Dickolas. She's fucking right, it's your fucking fault Jason's dead." You turn your attention to Bruce. "I told you."

"What do you mean you told him?" Dick questions, looking between the two of you.

"I told him Joker was gonna kill someone he cared about eventually, you or Jason and he didn't listen. He never fucking listens." You scoff with the shake of your head as you tug the sleeves of Jason's hoodie over your hands. "I told you, all you had to was let him be fucking Robin or get it through his head that you love him and all you did was fucking fail in both departments." You let out a heavy breath as you lock eyes with Bruce. "And you just...pinned him and Dick against each other so he never fucking felt good enough and anyone willing to actually listen to him for five minutes could figure that out but you just...don't fucking listen. Had you just let him be Robin or been fucking better, he'd be alive!" You let out an exasperated yell.

To be fair, you've been wanting to tell Bruce off for months. You know all of the weird ass training he put Jason and Dick through. Between the cabin and the contract about not letting fear in or whatever, it's insanity. The two of them might have been partially raised by Bruce but from where you're standing, Bruce viewed them as weapons of his own molding. It's wrong even if that was never his intention and all that training was supposed to be to keep them safe. It's still wrong.

"That's not fair." Dick states firmly.

"No, you wanna know what's not fair? The fact I lost my mom because of Bruce. And I just lost my favorite person in the entire world because of him. He was it for me, Dick." You grit your teeth as tears brim your eyes. "So, I don't care!" You turn your attention back to Bruce."You got him fucking killed! Remember what I told you? The guilt eating you alive yet?" You snarl at him as your voice cracks.

"I am sorry for your loss of your mother. I tried talking with Jason--" Bruce starts.

"I don't wanna hear it. Fuck you. I don't care!" You yells at him as your voice cracks. "It wasn't fucking good enough. You might not have taken the crowbar to his face but you might well have." Tears leak from your eyes as you wipe them quickly. "How dare you sit in here and laugh with them over Jason, a kid you never fucking bothered to understand or actually protect. Fuck you, Bruce." You shake your head and you turn to Dick. Your loyalty was always with Jason, not Bruce. "Hey, Dick, you say you forgive him, right? Why don't you go check the Batcomputer and let me know if you still do? You're really gonna wanna see what he's got planned." You taunt.

"What's on the Batcomputer?" Dick looks to Bruce with suspicion. His stomach flips and a part of him actually doesn't want to know. He knows it's not going to be anything good and he really thought, just maybe, things would be a little different. 

"It's nothing." Bruce states. "I understand this is difficult. It is difficult for all of us—"

"It was not hard for you to order the autopsy. For what? He was beaten to death. We all know how he died. You had no fucking problem burying him without his fucking friends being here. His family. All you care about is yourself and covering this shit up so you can move onto the next fucked up kid you can weaponize all over again."

Dick says your name sternly, trying to get you to backtrack to the Batcomputer. "What are you talking about?"

"Pictures of kids, profiles on them. Street kids, that's the nothing Bruce is talking about." You explain as you look between Babarara and Bruce. You might have went digging on the Batcomputer, expecting Bruce to be looking for a new Robin. "Should I tell Dick and Babs what you asked me the day of the bullshit funeral you tried to throw?"

"What did you do?" Barbara asks Bruce, her voice annoyed and protective.

"He asked me if I wanted to be Robin, to honor Jason." You roll your eyes as you let out a cold and bitter laugh. "You never gave a shit about him. You aren't even grieving him. Someone who's grieving doesn't go recruit more kids to fill the role that got another one killed. It fucked up Dick. You killed Jason. What's fucking next?" You look to Dick. "You warned me about him. So, don't sit here and pretend like all's forgiven. You knew he was dangerous. To some extent otherwise, you wouldn't have warned me. Every time he asked me for something, I remembered what you told me and I said no. I won't end up like you and Jason. I am not one of his sidekicks. I am my own fucking person. I didn't get to pick my powers but I get to pick what I do with them. Because of you. Don't pretend like you actually think he changed."

"I'm sorry, what the hell has been going on here?" Barbara looks to Bruce.

"I think it's time we stop pretending like Batman's ways are the only good ones because they don't fucking work. Batman has helped the city, sure, but uh, he's also caused it a lot of harm. And now you've taken my favorite people. So, fuck you and fuck your morals. Babs is right. Fuck you. I'm going back to bed." You turn around before looking back to Dick. "I'm serious, check the Batcomputer." You look to Bruce. "My loyalty was always with Jason. It was never with you. That is the only reason I went by your rules and that's why I'll tell Dick everything. I don't have to protect Jason by protecting you anymore. You were his hero. But you were never mine. I hope that guilt eats you alive like it is for me." You state before walking off, the room confused in silence.

You head back to your room and lay back on the bed. You hate that your eyes start burning as the lump becomes so large you can't even swallow. It's not fair. Everything sets you off. You want to stop crying and shaking. You hate the nausea that comes with it and you miss him so fucking much.

Your hand grips the necklace tight as if the pure strength of your fist can bring him back. Every single second is agonizing. All you wants is for him to walk through those doors again and greet you with some lame pet name. You'll take Acid Fingers at this point. None of it matters anymore.

You close your eyes and you see either his face brutalized or that grin he'd give you right before he had a bad idea you'd follow without even thinking. His canines were always a little pointy and looked like fangs in the right light. Somehow it always suited him. And you miss him.

You remember your first night in Gotham that feels like ages ago. And how it felt to be back with him. The void in your heart, the one you didn't even know was there, was suddenly not so hollowed anymore. You touched the bruise on his face and you thought maybe he'd explode from the contact. You always wondered if maybe he could hear your heart whenever you did something like that. It was always the only sound you could hear. He made you so nervous and happy. A part of you thought, maybe, you weren't meant to be happy in love. You always ran from it anyway but Jason made it so easy. He always made it easy to love him even when it was hard. And you don't know how you're supposed to just...cope. To live every day and never hear his laugh and see that grin again. Or hear his voice. You don't even have a voicemail from him. You want him back.

The next morning, Dick walks into your room. He stands in the doorway and he hates he's even the one to have to break this news. But, someone has to and it needs to be him. And you have to be the first person he tells. Bruce, apparently, took all of the arguments a little too close to heart last night.

"Are you awake?" Dick asks.

You stick your arm up and wave at him haphazardly, not wanting to talk. You're still coming down from last night. Gar came in after, he heard the arguing, and checked on you. But, even trying to talk to him didn't really help. Nothing really helps.

Grief is exhausting. It consumes every part of you. Every muscle, every emotion. Every piece of you is just consumed. It's like a radioactive explosion. No part of you is safe from the agony. And no one around you is safe from the grief that leaks from your pores.

"I need to tell you something." Dick keeps his voice steady and stern.

You turn slowly, peeking an eye at him but not saying anything. You think it'll be something dumb. Something to try and get you to get up again, but not argue or fight with Bruce. Maybe Bruce had a moment last night where he finally snapped and actually cried over it. You don't know and you don't care, but you're listening.

"Bruce broke into Arkham last night and killed the Joker." Dick gets it out in a single breath, anticipating you to blow up. "And then he took off."

Your eyes narrow at him as your jaw squares. If this is Dick's big idea of a joke, he really needs a comedy lesson because that's not funny. But, he has his hands in his front pockets and his jaw is squared, he always does that when he's being serious about something. And that grief that just felt like numbness and agony, is liquified into anger.

You sit up slowly. "He what?"

"Yeah." Dick states with the quick raise of his brows. "He dropped a crowbar on my floor last night."

If it were anyone else, you would probably find it in yourself to actually laugh at the use of a crowbar. It's what he deserves but that's brutal. But, this is Bruce. The one who's been saying the Joker has to stay alive. Now, suddenly, he's gone off and killed him? With a crowbar?

"He killed the Joker?"

"Yeah." Dick nods his head.

That's your last straw here. You had a plan. You were planning to kill him yourself and somehow Mr. Morality himself beat you to fucking punch? How did that even happen? The one time you actually put a plan together and Bruce gets there first? How is that even fair?! You're so sick of this shit.

"Get the fuck out." You snap, shaking your head with gritted teeth.

"Look, I know--"

"No, get the fuck out of my room." You point at the door. "That's bullshit. Get out. He should have been mine!"

Dick hangs his head for a second and he's not even sure how he's supposed to feel about it. He'd be lying if he weren't also planning his own revenge on the Joker. Him and Jason had their issues but he is also tired of the Joker getting to hurt people he cares about. He sat by Babara's hospital bed after the Joker shot her and he swears it was the darkest day of his life since his parents died. Then Jason. Killing is wrong, but the Joker needed to be stopped. Dick wanted revenge, too. But, maybe a part of him is a little hurt because he doesn't think Bruce would have done that for him.

Then, there's the other part, knowing you were ready to go in yourself and take care of him. Which makes him a little relieved Bruce beat you to it. You've never fought the Joker. Dick isn't sure you would have made it out. They'd be burying another body.

"The Titans will be here in a few hours. But, I wanted you to be the first to know." Dick states. "I thought you deserved that." Dick lets out a breath. "And you were right about the kids. You were right."

You pause for just a second because Dick does not like to admit he's wrong often. But he is now. You knew you were right but something is a little bit nice hearing it anyway. And from Dick. But, that does not make you any less angry at the world or at Bruce.

"Yeah, I fucking know and so were you. Too bad Jason didn't see it." Your voice softens just a little and you regret not voicing your concerns about Bruce and Robin to him. It probably wouldn't have done anything but cause a fight, but you should have tried.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me, too." You shake your head. "Now get out." You lay back down and roll over.

You're going with Plan B.

The agony of grief is turning into boiling rage. How dare Bruce think he gets the right to just kill the Joker now. Of all fucking times. Now he's going to toss his morals aside and kill him? It's a little too fucking late for that. That should have been your job but he went and did it anyway. You're fucking sick of this. So, you change your plan and if you're gonna be mad, you're gonna use it.

You grab the tablet off the nightstand and get up. You grab a notebook from your bookshelf with a marker and sit right in the center of your floor. There are plenty more horrible people that roam the streets of Gotham and you're going after every single one of them. You write down what you deem to be the worst of the worst behaviors and go from there. 

This was always going to be the plan if you made it out of Arkham after killing the Joker. You were always going to go after these people. It's just being sped up a little bit and you aren't going to waste a lot of time planning this time around. Instead, you do research through the tablet and find who you can that were confirmed to be working with the Joker and/or working with Pete Hawkins and then you run over their rap sheets and backgrounds.

You remember you and Jason talking about what you'd both do after Robin. After Bruce. You'd hunt down these people yourselves because they're always the ones that get pushed to the side. They get to escape Batman, they don't make it to the radar. Well, now they are. Molly was always right. Batman protects the rich so you're going to protect the ones Batman doesn't. You're going to make sure none of these victims and potential victims end up like you or Jason or Molly or Diego or any of the others. Bruce's morals were never yours.

You finish your research a few hours later before you head to the Batcave, ignoring the laughter coming from the kitchen. You look at Jason's suit that still has traces of blood over it. Your heart sinks to your stomach and your eyes start to burn. You chew the inside of your cheek before taking in a deep breath. It's not fucking fair but you're gonna level the playing field. Someone has to. Not another person.

Bruce offered you Robin as a way to honor him and that's not honorable. But, you want to send the message. So, you walk over to the case with your suit and open it. You get dressed before you head over to the weapons where you grab the extra R blades that usually go into the Robin suit. You stuff them in your utility belt. You are not knives but they'll do the job just fine. Jason always made sure they were sharp.

The kitchen is filled with Titans, all of them snapping their attention to you as you walk in, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You don't say a single word as you keep your stare in front of you as you walk over to the cabinet where Jason always kept the protein bars. You pluck a few from the cabinet and stick them in your utility belt.

"You're up." Dick finally states with caution. "And going out?" Dick eyes you in the suit.

"Got shit to do." You mutter, slamming the cabinet door.

"You should probably eat something....more filling." Gar chimes in. "Especially if you're going on patrol." Gar keeps his voice hopeful.

You roll your eyes as you walk over to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. The other Titans watch you carefully, glancing to Dick to find out what they're supposed to do in all of this. You didn't talk to Dawn or Hank and neither did Jason. They know what was posted to social media and whatever Gar, Dick, and Kory would tell them. But, they're growing a little more concerned about what they missed in these few months.

"Let me fucking be." You snip. "That's what the protein bars are for." Sarcasm fills the room like toxic venom.

Hank blocks the exit. "Heard you haven't been eating or doing anything. You're eating before you leave."

Of all the people, you do not want to deal with Hank. You can let a grudge for yourself go but for people you love? Absolutely not. Jason can forgive him all the fuck he wants, but you do not. And you will take him out first if that's how this is going to be.

You grit your teeth. "Get the fuck out my way."

Hank crosses his arms. "Not a chance, kid."

"We're worried about you." Dawn's voice is soft.

"I don't fucking care." You snip, looking back at her. 

"Why don't you come sit down?" Kory asks. "Take a breath."

It's not Kory's fault. None of this. She has been nothing but nice to you and Jason. But, she's on their side, not yours.

"I have had enough taking breaths. I need to get some shit done and I am going to do it whether any of you like it or not." You look back at Kory with the shrug of your shoulders. "I'm tired of this shit hurting so I'm...going out."

Gar's worried about you. He's always worried. But, you going out even if it's just to patrol seems like a really bad idea right now. He's terrified you're going to do something reckless and they'll be burying you, too. He can't lose someone else.

"It hurts us, too." Gar says quietly.

You know. You know it hurts them all. But, you were closest to him. You were there. You missed it. You were the one that found him and had to look at him like that. You were the one that wasn't fast enough to save him. Or strong enough. Or careful enough. Jason made you rethink everything you have ever known and for the first time in your life, you weren't fucking afraid of staying. He changed every part of you and it hurts. He's gone and it's your fault and it hurts.

You grit your teeth and feel your eyes start to water. "But it hurts me the most, Gar!" You spin to look at him. "You. Weren't. Here! He meant everything to me." Your voice cracks with desperation."I close my eyes and I see his body. I--" You stop yourself, feeling everyone stare at you, the tension in the room making the place feel a rainforest. "None of you get it." Your voice cracks with defeat. "Leave me alone. I'll be fucking fine." You suck in a harsh breath, hardening your face as you look up to Hank. "Get the fuck out of my way."

Hank looks to Dick and Dick shakes his head. He let Jason down. No matter what Dick believes really happened, it was his job to protect Jason and teach, Jason. He let him down and he won't let you down. Not again. He won't lose another person.

"Not happening."

"Get the fuck out of my way or I'll melt your face off." You hold out your free hand, it glowing in response.

"You won't fucking dare." Hank glares down at you. "I'll take you out, kid."

You stand your ground. "I'm not scared of you. I'm not fucking afraid of anything."

"I'll go with you." Gar finally chimes in, tired of the back and forth.

He's a little worried you might actually try to fight Hank at this point. He knows none of them are going to be able to stop you unless with force. He, for one, does not want to see that happen and what will be the aftermath of that. He doesn't want to help with it either. It's not right. So, he'll just go with and make sure you don't do anything too insane.

"No." You're stern as you look over your shoulder at Gar.

"You take Gar or you're not going." Dick states.

He doesn't want you to leave but he also knows holding you here won't do any of you any good. At least with Gar, Dick knows you wouldn't do anything to endanger him. Gar is always the voice of reason and maybe the two of you alone, Gar can talk some sense into you.

"I don't need a fucking babysitter, Dickolas."

"We don't want you to get yourself killed." Gar states.

"The world has never been so kind to me." Your words are broken as you look to the floor. You shake your head and you want to save your remaining energy for your list so you cave. "Fucking fine." You spin around, Gar jumping up from his seat. "But, you don't get to protest what I'm doing and I assure you, you will not like it."

"What are you going to do?" Dick asks.

"Doesn't matter. There's a new crime lord in town, you have your hands a little full with Bruce out of the picture. He's killed eight people and counting, taking over the drug traffickers right now."

"All the more reason for you not to go out." Dick states.

"I'm not in the crime business in case you haven't noticed, Dickolas. " You let out a scoff. "So, I'm fucking leaving and doing my own shit." You turn back to Hank. "I won't piss off a wanna-be Penguin."

"Make sure she doesn't get herself killed or kills anyone else in the process." Dick warns Gar quietly and he nods.

"Move." You groan up at Hank who reluctantly moves when Gar approaches.

Hank moves allowing you both to pass by, Gar hot on your heels as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. You head outside where your bike is parked and you pop on your helmet. You're running through your plan in your head, trying to figure out how you're going to manage with Gar around.

Gar is not going to like it and then you'll have to listen to him. But, if there's one thing you've gotten good at the last few days, it's tuning people out. So, you could tune him out. You could also just have him wait outside if this is an indoor thing. You don't want him involved. This is your thing. It doesn't need to be on Gar's hands.

"Are you going to tell me what your plan is?" Gar asks as he stands to the side of the bike.

"Nope." You state. "Dick's bike is over there with a helmet, grab it and get on so we can go." You state coldly.

"I think you should tell me the plan first." Gar's voice is hesitant.

"We're literally outside right now and I can just take off. I can lose Dick before you go inside to get him and tell him you already lost me. So, either get the helmet and let's go, or I'm going to leave."

Gar lets out a defeated sigh as you get on the bike. He rushes over to Dick's bike and grabs the helmet.

"You're...you're not gonna...kill anyone are you?" Gar questions as he walks back over.

"I told you, you're not gonna like it so you can either stay here or let me do my shit by myself. You'll have to fight me to stop me and we know I'll win. So it's your decision." You shrug.

Gar lets out a sigh, hoping he'll be able to talk you out of this. He gets on the bike and puts the helmet on before he holds onto you. You shake your head, sliding down your face shield before you take off. You head to a hideout that one of the men has been using.

You look at the abandoned building and roll your eyes. According to your few hours of research, he wasn't working with anyone closely besides the Joker but he's dead now. So, you figure this can't go terribly wrong and even if does, that would be fine.

"Stay." You state as you put your helmet on the bike.

"I'm coming—" Gar follows you.

You stop dead in your tracks, Gar bumping right into you. You spin around. "Gar, stay. I don't want you involved."

There's a fire in your eyes Gar hasn't seen before and he really doesn't want you to go in there alone. Nothing good is going to come from it.

"You're my best friend. I don't want you to do something you'll regret." Gar's voice is sympathetic.

"I won't regret this. Stay here." You shake your head and spin back around, hoping he'll actually listen to you.

Gar stays behind as he watches you head to the back of the building. Gar debates his loyalty. On the one hand, he knows he'll have to fight you and he doesn't want to do that. You're right, you'll win. He'll lose anyway. And you're his friend, he never wants to fight his friends. All it will do is cause more tension and you're in the middle of grieving your favorite person. That just doesn't seem right. But, Dick told him to make sure you don't get hurt or get someone killed. So, after just a few minutes of debating, he follows you with reluctance.

Gar rushes inside and by the time he gets inside, you're already throwing the R blades, the man pinned on the floor. He never stood a chance. You have a blade in his leg, in his arm, and in his abdomen.

"Please! I'll tell you whatever you want to do know!" The man begs as you stand over him.

"I don't want to know anything." You state, your hands glowing as you shrug down at him. You run over the list in your head, reminding yourself of every terrible, horrible, irredeemable thing he's done.

"I-I know where the Red Hood is!" The man panics and your eyes narrow.

This guy was working with the Joker so was Pete Hawkins. Red Hood killed Pete Hawkins, that makes sense. But, you find it odd anyway to mention it as he begs for his life. You're not here for the new guy. And you almost ask him why he thinks you are but that would mean offering him time and that's not what this is about.

"I don't care." You roll your eyes. "This has nothing to do with him. This is for every kid you turned to the freak ass clown." You stick your hand to his face as his skin starts to melt.

"Stop!" Gar yells, coming up behind you and yanking you away, the man screaming in agony as he rolls on the ground.

"Get the fuck off of me!" You wiggle in his grip, getting free. "Get the fuck out of here!"

"You're not gonna do this! We don't do this!" Gar gestures his arm at the man.

"I'm not a fucking we! I do what I want!" You scream back, shooting a blast of acid at the man as his screams die down. "See? All done."

You walk past Gar as Gar looks at the damage that's been done. He walks over, checking the man's pulse only for there to be nothing left. He just watched you kill someone in under ten minutes. This is bad. He has to snap you out of this. It's not going to bring Jason back. Nothing can bring him back and you need to find a way to deal with it that doesn't involve killing people.

"You can't do this!" Gar yells, you keeping your back to him as you reach the bike. "You can't kill people because you miss Jason! That's not gonna bring him back!"

He can't let you keep doing this. If this is your plan, some sort of revenge filled with grief, that's not you. He knows you, too and he swears it's not. You're the one who always said you weren't violent. It sucks and it hurts. It's always going to hurt, he knows that, but this isn't going to make the pain any less for you.

You look down and let out a hollowed, venom-filled chuckle. It's never going to be about missing him and that's the thing. He'll never get it. But, it's like this void has opened up in your chest, right where your heart used to be. A black hole, sucking everything inside of it but never being full. It's just a vast of nothingness and it's not about missing him.

"I'm not doing it because I miss him! Fuck." You scream, spinning around with your helmet in your hand. "I'm doing this for me and for Jason and for Dick and Molly and Diego and every other fucking kid that Bruce fucked over and the system fucked over because Bruce said that's fucking justice!"

"And do you think this," Gar gestures around him to the building. "Is justice?!"

"It's better than fucking nothing, Gar!" You let out a harsh breath. "We're the people left behind to suffer at the hands of people with bad intentions! Because we have no other choices! I'm doing this for all of us! I'm doing this for the life Jason should have had! For the life he deserved to have but never got the fucking chance because of bullshit circumstances! Just like me and Molly and Dick and Diego and all the others! So, you can either shut the fuck up and get the fuck on board, or try to fucking stop me."

Gar shakes his head and it's like he's losing you, too. Donna, Jason, and you. This is going to get you killed. You're going to go after the wrong person and it'll be the end. And this isn't you. You're mad and in the middle of grief. Grief is messy, it explodes and it always touches more than just the people in the thick of it. He can't just let you do this and end up regretting it.

"We don't kill people." Gar's voice is soft this time and for a split second, you actually feel bad. He wasn't even supposed to be involved but Dick insists on a babysitter. "And I-I don't want to fight you."

"I'm not a we anymore." You shake your head and shrug your shoulders. Your voice is etched with pain and it breaks Gar's heart all over again.

Your teeth grit and it's so painful, it's almost numbing to everything. Every day, it's hard and it isn't getting easier. And maybe you think you deserve the pain and numbness from all of it. If anyone should have known Jason was up to something, it should have been you. You put all of this blame on Bruce, but it eats at you, too. You both missed it. Everyone missed it. And the one fucking time he needed you to see it, you missed it and it got him killed.

"I don't want to fight you either but I will if you try to stop me and we both know I'll win." You suck in a breath knowing Gar wouldn't have it in him to actually stop you.

And maybe you're hoping it's a false sense of confidence. Maybe you think you deserve to fight him, have him not on your side anymore. Maybe you don't deserve it anymore.

You turn back around and get on the bike before putting your helmet on. It's not going to bring him back, you know. And it's not going to make you feel better. But, it's better than letting someone else go through what you and every other kid has so far. This city eats people alive. It takes and takes and takes and that is all it has ever done. You're tired of it. You're willing to live with the guilt of blood on your hands if it'll help even a few kids who've been left in the cold. Maybe you deserve it anyway.

"Dick is gonna be pissed." Gar sucks in a breath as he takes a few steps towards you.

"Kory kills people sometimes. Rose killed Deathstroke. I killed people from CADMUS when they attacked the tower. You killed someone once. Mr. Moral Highground himself just fucking killed the Joker. Why is it such a big fucking deal right now? Why is it so fucking bad right now?" Your voice is almost defeated.

Honestly, you wonder how it's always Gar caught in the crossfire. Maybe it's just because he's too empathetic, always seeing the good in everyone. It's still something you admire. But, he can't stop you and you desperately wish, he'd just understand.

"Because this isn't you." Gar's brows furrow as he stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets.

You look down and clear your throat, feeling the guilt start to eat at your chest. You're not sure what the guilt is though. The guy you just killed or for making Gar give you that look that screams desperation and disappointment.

"Maybe it always should have been though." You shake your head. "You know, he was bad, right?" You ask. "Like, working with the Joker. Joker had a few guys trafficking kids. Was gonna go after one, Pete Hawkins, but uh, Red Hood beat me to the punch so, next best I guess. So, he wasn't just some guy doing something bad." You explain.

"That doesn't make it better." Gar states. "Maybe we could have helped him get out of that."

"Nope, rap sheet five pages long." You suck in a harsh breath. "Okay, where do you stand on Bruce killing the Joker?"

"I-I...I mean..." Gar thinks killing is wrong, but...the Joker was always the worst of the worst. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do. I think you don't like it but you're not gonna go and tell fucking Batman off for doing it. I think a part of you, might actually understand it." You gesture a hand towards him. "I'm not asking you to agree with me, Gar. I can't ask that of you. But I am asking you to just understand. You didn't grow up here and see this shit, okay?"

"I don't want you to kill people and I don't want you to regret this when it does get better. I know you don't want to hear that but it will."

"We talked about it, ya know?" You ask. "What we'd do after Robin and Batman. Team up and go after these guys. These guys rarely make it to Bruce's radar. It's not fair. Most of us aren't rich but that doesn't mean we're a sacrifice. That's what Bruce called us last night. What he called Jim Gordon, his fucking friend. A sacrifice. I'm tired of innocent people being a sacrifice for a city and for rich fucks that don't actually give a fuck about them unless the press is taking pictures and writing articles about how good they are. We did not say we'd kill anyone, but..." You shrug. "In and out of Blackgate and they learn nothing. Something permanent has to be done. So, I'm not gonna regret it."

He does not agree. There always has to be another way. If they all just started killing people because they think they're bad, how can that be justice? How can that be better than what's already going on? But, Gar can't argue it not without going round and round in circles. And he's never said anything about Kory or Rachel killing anyone. So, he decides, maybe he can try a little bit to understand even if he thinks he won't be able to.

"I'm not killing just anyone, I promise. I have a plan."

"That's not reassuring." Gar states.

"I know." You nod. "But, I promise. I know but can you offer me a little understanding, please? As my friend."

You're done arguing. Your throat hurts and your chest hurts. A headache is pecking at the back of your head, it's just exhausting arguing. Everything is exhausting lately.

Gar moves forward and takes the helmet. "Dick is gonna kill you."

"Eh, he'll bitch about it for a while and then get over it because I'm grieving." You roll your eyes. "Make him a hypocrite if he did something about it."

"Not funny." Gar scolds as he gets on the back.

"Wasn't a joke." You quip. "Hold on."

You spend the day not killing people but by tormenting some of the guys on your list. You beat them up and taunt them, threaten them and scare them. Gar still isn't happy with excessive force but it is better than you killing them. He wonders why you even killed the first guy. But a part of him is a little afraid to even ask. Knowing you, you do have a reason for it. And he doesn't want to give you the bright idea to kill all of them.

Your last stop is Jerry's old house. You hate how your hands shake and the lump in your throat grows. It's more now. It's more than the torture that lingers in your bones because with his house also comes the memories of Jason.

That night was the night you knew something was going on with you. You remember that moment in the bathroom where Dick interrupted you and how your heart was thundering so loud you swore it'd wake up the whole tower. You remember how good it felt and thrilling and the look on his face. That was the night he read to you. This is not that house but it reminds you of that night anyway. This house brought back all of your nightmares. You can't kill Jerry right now, but you can do something about the house. He'll, hopefully, get word of it and know you'll come for him one day. The house is the start.

You suck up your fear and memories as you close the distance and shoot acid on the side panel of the house before pulling out a match. Gar stands right beside you and he knows the house. He remembers it when him and Jason looked into you.

"What are you doing?" Gar asks.

"Burning it down." You state as you light the match, tossing it onto the acid, watching the flames burn. "Suit? Flame retardant. Acid? Flammable." You walk around the other side and repeat the same thing until the house is engulfed in flames. "Tested it out last night, just to make sure." You watch the flames and Gar isn't sure how to feel about it. At least no one was inside, you checked, and this is your business. This is your thing. You're not hurting anyone at least. "Gonna lecture me about vandalism?" You look over at him.

"No." Gar shakes his head. "I'm definitely calling the fire department though." Gar sucks in a breath, the fire warming his face a little too much for his comfort.

"Can you give it a minute? Just to make sure there's no saving it." You look at him. "We can stay and watch it burn, make sure it doesn't get too out of control and no one gets hurt."

"Okay." Gar agrees as you move to stand by the bike and watch the house burn. "Does this help?"

"Yeah." You nod your head. "He's not getting life, ya know? Jason, uh, he kept a file on him. He kept tabs so I wouldn't have to." You shake your head. "But, he got a lot of time but he can still come back and pick it up again. At least he'd need a new house and I'll see him coming. Not another kid."

"It is more than Jason." Gar nods his head with a sense of understanding.

"Yeah," You nod, your eyes trained on the house. "He's just the last straw for me. I think he'd find it funny and then ask why I didn't take a flame thrower."

"Flame thrower?" Gar questions. "Why the hell would you have a flame thrower?"

"Molly and me were walking and we hit this house. I don't know how I missed it. But, I did. And uh, I had a panic attack so bad I just...broke right on the side of the road. It was like I was back in San Francisco, in the basement all over again. Molly called Jason and he sat in front of me and snapped me out of it. Then he asked if I wanted to burn it down. He could get a flame thrower from the Batcave and we're both flame retardant." You laugh softly as your eyes burn.

"Oh, so he gave you this bright idea." Gar lets out a soft chuckle. It definitely sounds like something Jason would have said to make you feel better.

"He had some good ideas on occasion." You laugh softly as you hear sirens coming. "Well, someone beat ya to it. Let's head out." You let out a sigh as you grab your helmet and hand the other to Gar. "Thanks for not stopping me." You nod. "I'll tell Dick you tried."

"It's okay." Gar nods as he takes the helmet. "No one got hurt...here." Gar sucks in a breath.

The two of you get on the bike and head back to the manor. Gar reports to Dick when you get back. For a second, he debates even telling him what happened. Some part of him wants to understand because you're his friend. He believes you think you're doing what's right but it's hard for him to understand even though he doesn't give Kory a hard time. He didn't give Rachel a hard time when she killed people. But, Dick is looking at him expectantly and he can't lie to him. So, he tells Dick what happened.

Dick finds you in the Batcave later that night, deciding he'd like to have the conversation without the other Titans around. Dick swears this is the grief talking and the other Titans don't need to be involved. You're right, they have bigger problems right now. Their focus should be there, especially given the events that happened today. He can handle you.

"Do you feel better?" Dick questions as he paces in front of you with his arms crossed.

"Well, I guess that depends on your definition of feeling better." You shrug your shoulders as you exit out of your screens on the Batcomputer.

"Are you serious right now?" Dick fumes.

"Pretty much." You answer simply.

If Gar can't get you to go back on your plan, Dick definitely can't. He's giving you that disappointed look that makes you almost groan. You're not in the mood for not only a lecture from him but another lecture about how you don't kill people.

"We don't kill people."

You almost laugh at the irony. "I'm not a we anymore in case you missed the memo." You snark. "I'd like to go to bed though. If you don't mind." You get up from your spot but Dick steps in front of you to stop you.

"We aren't done here. I know. I know how hard this is for you. But I promise, you will regret this." Dick tries to reason with you.

"I don't think so. We're different people. I don't feel all too bad about it." You lie. You feel a little bad about it. You're not a monster. "I'm going to bed unless you have anything else you want to say." You let out a breath as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Yeah, I have more to say. You're not going out alone anymore. You're taking Gar with you and you're not going to keep killing people. That's not what Titans do and that's not what you do."

"So, Gar is my babysitter? Gar tried and I still killed the guy today. Do you think that's gonna stop me?"

"Yes. You'll start to feel bad for making Gar stick around."

You narrow your eyes at him and he makes a good enough point. But, you're still pretty sure you'll keep up with your plan. You'll just find a way around Gar.

"Anything else or?"

Dick lets out a sigh and of course there's more. His first night, he went into Jason's room and found a formula. But, you've been either screaming, sobbing, or catatonic the last few days and he hasn't had much of a chance to ask anything.

"Okay, look, I need your help."

You let out a laugh. "I can't kill people and now you need my help." You roll your eyes. "With what?"

"Jason was making a drug, what do you know?" Dick cuts to the chase.

You shake your head in disbelief. Why the fuck would Jason be making a drug? Does Dick really have so little faith in him? You're actually offended Dick would think he was making a drug. It's one of the most insane things you've ever heard and you live with Bruce Wayne.

"Wow, okay, yeah that's fucking rich. He was not making a drug, Dickolas." You scoff.

"Look, I found this formula in his room." Dick pulls the paper out of his pocket and hands it over.

You look at it but you've never seen it before and it's definitely Jason's handwriting. It's messy and still somehow legible. But that still doesn't make any sense. Jason wanted to target dealers and the cooks. You always assumed it was because of his mom and once people are hooked, they'd be more vulnerable to everything.

You hand it back. "I have no fucking idea." You let out a scoff and apparently, he was keeping a whole lot from you.

"Bullshit. You knew him better than anyone."

"Yeah, and I missed him going after the fucking Joker, too." You strike back. "I don't know. I've never fucking seen it, he never mentioned it probably because he knew I'd chew him out for it. I don't know." You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste iron. "Look, he's dead, it doesn't matter." The words are bitter on your tongue and they weigh heavy in your throat. But, it's true. You don't want to hear about it. He's dead, he's gone, it doesn't matter.

"I think it does." Dick protests. He doesn't understand how Jason was making a drug and somehow, no one knows anything about this. 

"Why? He's dead. He's gone. Shit isn't gonna bring him back." You brush past him, feeling the caving of your chest start again.

Dick calls your name as you look back at him. "There was something going on."

"Yeah, apparently so but I don't know shit. Wish I did though." You turn back around. The drug is going to eat at you and it'll eat at Dick. You're tired of things eating at you and today is bothering you but not for the killing. So, you change subject. "Hey, okay, uh, you guys actually going after the new guy?"

"We're putting together a case. He killed a woman today, a mother." Dick explains. "Do you know something?"

"No," You shake your head. "But, uh, that guy I killed today, thought I was looking for him. He's called the Red Hood, by the way. Just...thought it was fucking weird and thought you might wanna know. Molly said he showed up at her apartment with Diego Martinez, a missing kid she was looking for. Pete Hawkins trafficking kids to the Joker and he was one of them."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Instead of begging for his life, he told me he knew where the Red Hood was. I, uh, thought it was weird. I think he was lying and uh, I have no idea how he knew about Molly." You let out a scoff because that part is going to bother you until you get an answer.

"Why would go to your friend? Are you sure you don't know anything else about him?"

"I swear, I have no fucking idea. That's why I'm telling you. Shit is weird, even for Gotham. If I knew more, I'd tell you. Weird he'd kill a random woman but Molly said he just seemed intimidating. I asked more about it later and she said Diego was fine and the Red Hood was nice to him. So...again, weird."

Dick lets out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair. Of course, something can't be simple in Gotham. There always has to be something else going on and Dick agrees, this just seems weird. And it doesn't make any sense. What is his motive anyway?

"Well, good talk." You let out a sigh. "Just thought you'd like that information in case it was useful. I'm going to bed." You offer Dick a nod before you walk off and exit the Batcave, leaving Dick with a bigger headache.

The next day, the Titans are working on the Red Hood case, something about a chess play. Dick went to Jonathan Crane for help over it which he was not happy about. You choose not even to get involved with that one. You have your own thing you want to do anyway and maybe a part of you, doesn't entirely know how to feel about the Red Hood. He did save Diego and maybe others for all you know and he didn't hurt Molly when he could have. Though, he did kill an innocent woman. So, you're just not getting involved right now, instead you mind yourself to your room for most of the day.

But, then you get a call from someone, an unknown number.

"Meet me at the old gym." He says, his voice disguised by a voice modulator.

You pull the phone from your face, looking at it with confusion before you put it back to your ear. "Yeah, who the fuck are you and why the fuck would I do that?" You snark back.

"Meet me at 8 tonight."

"Why?" You question back.

"Just go to the roof. Eight O'clock." He says before the line goes dead.

You pull the phone from your head again and look at the dark screen. What are you even supposed to do with that? On the one hand, it would be really stupid to listen to a random voice from an unknown number. But, it's also weird enough that it makes you kind of want to go. You don't talk to anyone. The only people who even have your number are the Titans and Molly. A lot of weird shit is currently going on and you would like at least one answer. It might be really stupid, but you figure you'll go anyway and you'll just be prepared for it to go south.

Lucky for you, the Titans had some Red Hood business to take care of that involved all of them looking for possible victims. That gave you the perfect opportunity to leave right when you needed to without having to worry about ditching Gar along the way.

You get to the old gym and walk right in, almost no fear in your bones. You walk right through and into the pool area. The pool is gross, slimy. It looks like it hasn't been used in years, which it hasn't. And the smell of algae sticks to the walls, making you grimace behind your mask. So, you keep walking until you reach the stairs that lead to the roof.

Once on the roof, you walk over to the edge, resting your forearms on the ledge. Your stomach doesn't drop anymore. Anxiety doesn't flood your veins and you don't even feel the slightest bit dizzy. You think it's because of the grappling around the city. You had no choice but to get over your fear of heights. But you know that's not all of it. Fear doesn't follow you very much these days.

You feel someone walk up beside you a few minutes later, barely getting a glimpse of them out of the corner of your eyes.

"Who are you and what the hell do you want?" Your voice is flat as you keep your stare on the gloomy city below.

"Really did get over your fear of heights, huh?" The voice questions, a voice modulator changing it. He's a little surprised you came, honestly. But, it's you, of course you did. You hate unanswered questions and he knows that.

You look over to see the new so-called crime lord. He's wearing a red helmet, the eyes white and there's no mouth. He's got a black padded suit on with a red symbol right in the middle of his chest that looks like a play on the Batman symbol. And above his suit, he's wearing a red hoodie under a brown leather jacket. It's a look.

Red Hood.

New crime lord trying to take over Gotham and leaving no one in his wake that crossed his path. He's brutal and ruthless. But methodical, has a plan and is never caught off guard. Smart, quick, sharpshooter. And as you remember every horrible thing you've read, you nod once because you think this is finally it.

Finally, after all these years of suffering and misery, someone is gonna end it all for you. That has to be the reason you're standing here right now. Maybe that guy you killed was working for him. Cross his path in the wrong way, and he'll just kill you. You're so certain that's what it is and you almost feel relieved as you look back to the city.

"Yeah well." You state, bypassing how he'd even know you were afraid of heights in the first place. "If you're gonna kill me, can you just like do it already?" Your voice is so flat and emotionless, Jason freezes.

You've given up. You gave up on the fight the day he died. And he was worried about that. When the drug wears off, it comes back. Every piece of fear he's ever felt floods back over him and one of those fears is always you. How you're going to react to knowing he's alive, how you're going to react knowing he died, how you've been doing. He can see it in the way your eyes scan the city that you're done. And he hates himself for it.

"I'm not gonna kill you. Why would I kill you?" He asks and he's glad his voice is disguised.

"It's what you do." You chortle. "It's fine, really. I'm sure I crossed you or whatever. To be expected." You glance at him once more before you look back to the city. "Just, uh, take my phone and call Dickolas. Make sure he's the one that finds me because if you don't, that means my friend will and I really, really don't want him to deal with that. It fucking sucks." You nod as you roll your eyes. "Consider it my dying wish."

"Dramatic as always." Jason lets out a chuckle. "You know I'm not gonna fucking kill you because you got that combat thing." He says and he's buying time, trying to get the courage to tell you.

You pause, looking at him slowly. One person that knows referred to it that way. It was always Jason. He always said it was a combat thing. And the only people who even know are the Titans.

You look back to the city and you're about to rip his helmet off yourself. He gave the woman a paper with a chess move and a code. The code was Robin, he asked for Nightwing. That's what Gar said before he left tonight with the Titans. Red Hood knows where Molly lives, he has your phone number and clearly knows about the combat clairvoyance. There is one person who would know all of that and he's dead. So, this is getting a bit frustrating and concerning.

"Why are you acting like you know me?" You huff as you look back at him.

He's leaning with an elbow on the ledge, his weight shifted to his right leg. He's standing so casually and it's almost familiar but at this point, you think you're just fooling yourself. You can't do this.

"Yeah, I'm leaving." You push off the ledge and start to walk off but he grabs your arm gently.

You stop and look at his hand on your arm. He's wearing brown leather gloves that match his jacket. This feels familiar, too and you swear anything would feel familiar because you're desperate. It's just the desperation and the grief. But, it feels familiar and you hate it. 

"Wait." He says. "Don't go, alright?" He drops his hand and you let out a sigh, leaning back against the ledge.

"Fine." You let out a sigh and go back to looking at the city. "Can you just tell me what the fuck is going on, please?" You ask and Jason can hear the desperation in your voice. "I have had a shit fucking week and I just....would like to go back to bed." You let out a sigh another sigh. You're tired of the games.

Jason hangs his head and he knows you're going to lose it. You're going to be mad and he's going to have to deal with it. He really, desperately wishes he would have taken the drug before he walked up here. It'd definitely be nice right about now. But, he swore, if he was going to do this, he'd have to do it this way because you would figure it out. That's not the plan and at the end of day, he came back knowing he'd never involve you. You have to know and he wishes this were easier.

But, he takes off the helmet anyway.

"Please, don't be mad."

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A/n: I just wanna say thank you again to everyone who leaves a comment and/or reblogs. I go back and reread them all the time and it makes me really happy 😭 I'm really sorry if I don't always respond I just don't know what to say sometimes lmao or my chronic illness flares up and I just kind of...post and log off and I don't usually comment from Tumblr mobile lol So, I'm sorry if I don't respond but I promise it means so much to me 😭😭😭

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[critter-core]

So uhh…

I just became obsessed with the Foodie Siblings au so now I present you…

CHIPS!

Name: Chips (or Chip)

Pronouns: He/Him

Species: Loggerhead Sea Turtle

Short description:

Chips is a captain of a ship that was given to him by his parents’ last wills. This also included supplies to run the ship, and quite a lot of money, since his parents were rather well-known travelers before they got swept away at sea… Chips has a crew, but his crew mostly consists of the animals he has adopted or taken with him in his journeys. He hopes to build a true crew one day and travel the seven seas!

Extra info:

*I could totally see him hanging out with Mikey sometime, and they’d probably go ship sailing together lol

*Chips is 15 years old if you can’t read the writing (no judgement here, my handwriting’s chicken scratch lol)

*I think Chips would be determined to travel and would get over the ocean, but he’d definitely panic if he fell in considering what happened to his parents

*Chips has numerous pets, but his favorite is Kiwi the Caique Parrot! (Shhh don’t tell!)

*I may add more rottmnt specific plot points so that this isn’t just a turtle oc but we’ll see

*maybe Chips helps search for mutants and baddies over seas for the Mad Dogs

*maybe he changes the flag symbol to the Hamato clan crest or the Mad Dogs shell symbol?

*I’ll like… make him a master post some point with more organization later lmao

More to be added soon, idk :’)

Oh yeah, @sleepis4theweak just to make sure this doesn’t get missed. If I need to add anything else, let me know :]

[neveah-llama]

Why do I have gospel on My Spotify Daylist? I’m Atheist. Oh Also Here’s Some Background Info For the Fic :)

Haha ignoring the title, I just wanted to talk to you more about ‘The Impossible Adventures of the Phantom and the Ninja,’ give a sneak peak as to what I plan and maybe get your guys’ input.

So as I said before I love serialized cartoons centered around teenage superheroes. Maybe because I love comics, or because I too felt like I was living a double-life and found a connection to these characters. Still do even though I’m now older than the characters. But what I love most about them is the possibilities for world-building.

I love stories that center more about the world the author has created, along with how that world affects the character(s) relationships, traits, etc. It shows me the extent to the author’s creativity, having thought of all these cool societies, cultures that seems real like it could belong to the real world, even down to how people in that story keep track of time.

(Off topic but this is actually the main reason why I love the ATLA universe)

However I don’t really get that with the teen-superhero drama. Especially when it airs on cartoons like Disney or Nick. They do explore some topics for sure, but I’m looking more to the drawbacks of living a double-life. Mostly because I feel those drawbacks even today. Furthermore, most of these shows like Danny Phantom and Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja were only able to air due to both the networks and the creators, at least in simple terms. So sometimes shows would be canceled when it’s left at a cliff hanger (I.e. Teen Titians (2003) and RC9GN)

So that’s why I wanted to write this fanfic, I want to try to expand the worlds of both shows by connecting them together, I want to add my own flair to the characters, story arcs, and the direction of the series, and I really hope I do both shows justice because I grew up on these shows and I even still watch them (even when some words they use are outdated and just overly obnoxious/cringe)

Which brings me to the second part of this post. To those who read this far good for you, you get a cookie 🍪.

Anyways I have three arcs planned so far when it comes to this fanfic (more will defiantly be added later on). Granted it’s not all fleshed out so I’ll have to add or take out stuff as I continue with this story. But here’s a brief description and some notes for the first three arcs:

1. Origins

Obviously it’s the introduction to the story. Danny and Randy just returned to their homes a week before school starts, it’s their first year of high school and both of them have big plans for the next four years.

They just didn’t account the chance to become heroes of their respective towns.

The arc is going to be about 4 chapters long, ending with a rewrite on ‘Bitter Reunions’. The chapters will briefly glaze over the first six episodes of Danny Phantom. And the first like two/three episodes to RC9GN.

This arc will mostly focus on Danny struggling to getting a hold of his powers and Randy coming to terms that being a hero isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Only problem is I’m not sure if I want that to happen to Randy this early on the story or not. Eh, guess we’ll see what I feel like, lol.

2) Original Storyline:

It’s in the works! This is set after both of their Halloween specials in season one. Mostly because this is placed in November. I might plan a chapter or two to happen before this arc so who knows (really want to write Fanning the flames- I have plans for that one it’s all based on a joke while I started writing out the three arcs lmao). I don’t want to say anymore other than the fact I want it to focus more on Japanese myths, it’s actually how I got inspired to write this fic so I’m really excited.

3) Interlude:

After that week-long adventure, Randy, Danny and friends slowly adjust to their new normal. Mostly just rewrites of canon episodes to help build up to another major story arc that is forming in my head at the moment. (It’s definitely a canon one just to give you a hint).

Anyways so yeah. That’s all I have so far. Thanks for reading, love y’all!

Ps if you see a poll thing, no you don’t. This is my first time posting on tumblr via phone and I don’t know how to delete it. (I’m not old I swear I’m in my early twenties 😭)

[sknmannn]

TOKYO REVENGERS OCS:

PHARAOH’S KIDS

(Updated: 3-1-2024, added Seki and updated character deisgns)

Hihi!!!

Sekkun here with another character line up, this time it’s for my newly created Tokyo Revengers OCs.

They’re based off of, well, egyptian gods of course. I’ll explain that later. Been working on these OCs since some time ago, on and off.

Here is the character lineup, with their names, voice headcanons as well as a description (excuse my writing I am so sorry lmao)

So yeah that’s the 6 of them!

Now as promised, here’s what each egyptian gods they’re based off of:

-Koji Shimamoto (Anubis)

-Hisora Yamakawa (Horus)

-Junshin Miyazaki (Set)

-Hitsuto Fujita (Khnum)

-Arakawa Furutani (Sobek)

-Seki Saratani (Bastet)

HEIGHT CHART THINGY:

Now, since my TR OCs just came out from the oven, Koji being revamped especially, I don’t really have much lore between them.

BUT basically, these six are childhood friends that made a vow to compete against one another to see who’s the best in their friend group.

Tensions were risen slightly during their competition, however they still hang out as per normal when they’re not doing their daily gang stuff in their individual gangs. They all agreed to separate gang from play, too.

The game is played with the exception of Seki, who chose not to play the game as he quote-on-quote “prefers to do his own thing”. Seki will eventually join a gang, but that’s in the future and another story for another day.

Additional information is that Koji’s “REALLY good friends” with Mitsuya and he seems to talk about Mitsuya alot to Hisora.

Only Hisora knows about Koji being gay while the rest of his gang is straight and he’s supportive of it!…he just doesn’t like having to listen to his friend talk about or even mention the lilac-haired man every time.

Haha Koji you’re a straight imposter

CONCEPT ART/DOODLES:

(DELINQUENT YAOI REAL⁉️⁉️⁉️)

Yeah here’s kinda like a detailed ref(?) for Koji as well as some headshot sketches of Hisora, Junshin and Arakawa.

I gave Arakawa a mullet in the final one because the man bun was so good I had to save that hair style for the 2008 time skip.

(Sorry Hitsuto, no concept art of you. I shitted you out on the spot 🫶)

I’ll probably add more lore and post it here but for now, enjoy new lore!!

[nami-moittli]

Okay, since [3] people liked my post, here’s the charts for my

Though, I will admit, I feel like the shojou influence may lessen after the first group, but oh well. It’s the drama filled romance twst AU.

So, the freshman gang is the main one, along with the only one I bothered to add text in the image itself.

These guys are also the only ones who have any real semblance of a plot going on, and I imagine if this was an actual shojou romance anime, there’d be two seasons, so dynamics get changed and two more characters (Grim and Yuu!) get added into the mix. But I haven’t made that chart yet, so I won’t talk about it unless someone asks

Anyway, Ortho would be the main character here, as she was the reason why I decided to make this AU at all lol. (Btw, she’s 16 just like everyone else here, so don’t worry about it) Epel and her are best friends and as such I decided to give him his own side plot as well!

Since I wanted Ortho and Epel to already be established as best friends, I decided to mash their hometowns closer together, and I also wanted to make them know Vil for awhile too, so Idia, Ortho, Epel, Vil & Jack have all known each other since elementary. The others they only met in HS. Why? It’s probably a really prestigious one like in canon or smth, idk

Bc of this, Epel’s been crushing on Jack since, idk, elementary? Middle school? Awhile now, that’s for sure. Ortho’s been making fun of him for not being able to confess for years now, and he finally decided to ask him out in HS, but by the planned time comes, Oops! He likes Sebek now too! Ortho is understanding, but loves to make references to cringy manga and anime that have love triangles/harems in it. That is, until she falls for both Ace and Deuce, and suddenly Epel can have payback.

There’s definitely more to this, but that’s all I feel like writing about rn for them.

Onto the next ones!

Now this description will have less in it cause I definitely think of these guys the least, but I will say that one love square ends in two couples, and the other in polyamory, so,that’s fun!

Also, to balance out the gender ratio, Jade and Floyd are Jade and Floyd, Riddle, Kalim, Azul, Jamil & Ruggie are all girls. Silver can be the token guy. Or I could change my mind and make her a girl. Idk.

I do have a bit more to say about the juniors tho!

First off, I didn’t know where to fit in Cater & Trey, so they’re kinda just in the background. Maybe Trey & Vil had smth but now Trey and Cater are dating? Idk, but they’re here!

Anyway, back to the exes, yk how I said that Vil, Jack, Idia, Ortho & Epel all knew each other? Yeah, back in middle school, Idia and Vil dated for, around a (school) year (plus summer) I wanna say? Maybe a bit less than that. But in their freshman year they broke up, leaving them not really speaking, then about two weeks later Vil and Leona started dating, so that just kinda rubbed salt in the wound for Idia and he went back to staying in his room 24/7 again. Though he does show up at school more often than his canon counterpart does, I feel. Simply bc this is supposed to be a no magic AU, so flying tablets are a bit harder to get from class to class with lmao

Anyway, after who knows how long, maybe for like 6 months or so? Vil and Leona break up. Not sure how long after that, maybe a month, little more than that? Anyway, then Leona and Malleus date for like, a week? Idk, Leo & Mal remind me of two middle school boys who hate each other, so do with that as you will lol

Second year maybe you could fit in the Trey thing but idk. Anyway, Vil & Rook have been going strong since then, and Idia’s recently gained a crush on Malleus. Shenanigans ensue

The only other thing I’ll note is that Lilia doesn’t attend school with his kids, maybe he’s a teacher? Part-time substitute? Idk, but just like in canon he’s Mal & Silver’s dad (and Sebek’s too lol) and online friends with Idia. So that’s fun!

Anyway, that’s all for now, if anyone wants to know more, feel free to ask!

[ssuckitlosers]

What's your favorite cardverse fic?

The first fic that came to mind when I read this was an unfinished fic from fanfic.net that is, single-handedly, the reason I only read completed fics nowadays. I read this years ago when it was still regularly updating but a few new chapters were added in 2021 and so I need to read it again.

It’s called A King and His Hero by HiddenSunrise. From what I remember, the first few chapters were enough to get me hooked. It’s a USUK fic and the premise of the story is that Clubs has invaded Spades so Arthur uses his magic to get teleport him and Alfred out of the castle to save the King’s life. Alfred’s upset about being taken out of the fight and it then follows them making their way back to the castle and just overall a really interesting plot and good character depth as far as I remember. It’s been years since I’ve read this and writing this made me really want to read it againnn.

However, if it’s recommendations you want, it really depends on what you’re looking for because I have read a lot of cardverse fics:

I am like an encyclopaedia of vague fic plots hence why I bookmark everything because I always forget the names.

There are two cardverse fics that I have publicly recommended which are:

Exceptis Centum by PurrV. Which I think is the fic where Alfred gets magically transported to a room where Arthur. If it is, then I can’t say much about the plot without spoiling it but basically Spades has been without a Queen for a hundred years and I think Alfred gets teleported every night to Arthur’s room where they chat and Alfred tries to solve the mystery of what’s happening. It’s multichapter and there’s some mention of kind of dubious character later on but I don’t think they ever appear outside of the characters talking about them.

(I wish I had bookmarked my favourite fics with some note attached because I can’t remember exactly why I recommend this. Might’ve been for the writing, might’ve been for the plot or maybe it was just for the ending guess you’ll have to read it and find out lol.)

And The Sleeping Beauty of Spades by Pastaaddict. (I am now noticing that both of these fics have some fairytale elements…) Anyway, this is a oneshot where Arthur’s in a coma and they have to find a way to wake him up.

When AO3 is finished with maintenance I’ll add the links and maybe read them again or check my private bookmarks for other one’s that I remember at enjoying.

This is just me rambling about really needing to re-read my ao3 rec list lmao

These recommendations are killing me and AO3’s down right now so I can’t even reread them to see if past me treated my public rec’s with the pickiness it deserves. In all honestly, the description of these doesn’t intrigue me at all but I think that is probably why I recced them- because they’re better than I thought they’d be. Like keep in mind there’s 6 pages of bookmarks that aren’t in my rec list even if I have no idea why I recced these two lmao.

It just throws me off because my favourite type of Cardverse stories to read are multichapter fics where their mark has just appeared/they’re relationship is developing and ideally throw in pirate Arthur as well lol. I think some of my recommendations are good stories that I enjoyed reading but they just didn’t stick with me as well as others that I didn’t even rec (like one where Arthur saves Alfred, so Alfred uses Spades magic to rewind time to save Arthur only for the second fic to kill Arthur off. Like bro I haven’t read that fic in years and I still remember it with the same dismay.)

[wenmistry]

OC-TOBER DAY 17: LIE

Yes I’m still working on OC-tober, yes it’s the 6th of November. I love this prompt list and the art style I chose for it so i wanted to keep going for as long as it takes to finish it :P

I actually started this one ON the 17th of October so I was doing well but then I went up country to visit my brother so I didn’t have time to draw lmao. I’m really happy with how it came out either way though ^_^

No energy to add a little description of this one, I’ll leave it up to interpretation lol. Maybe if I get some brain juice later I’ll reblog it with an explanation (:

[flecks-of-stardust]

Lace x Hornet?

[image description: a bingo board titled ‘Ship Bingo.’ The background is a soft pink, and the center square has a heart that is a slightly darker pink shade. From left to right, top to bottom, the bingo board reads:

First row: I like them more as friends/platonically; I don’t ship them I want to put them in a jar to study; They are EVERYTHING to me; They should stay as far away from each other as possible; They’re absolutely terrible in every way. They’re perfect for each other.

Second row: Concept is more appealing than execution; They drive me crazy insane /pos; Friends-with-benefits vibes; Projection central; The aesthetic is impeccable

Third row: My feelings are so mixed they’re a smoothie; I ship them as divorced; Free space; Relationship goals <3; People that ship them need therapy I think

Fourth row: Better in fanon than in canon; I’m open to it, but don’t ship it right now; I blorboed so hard that now they’re basically my OCs; I need a 30k hurt/comfort fic on my desk by Monday; It’s more funny than romantic tbh

Fifth row: Who even thought of this?? This is a crackship; They’re going to be the death of me; The exact opposite of relationship goals </3; If I never have to see this ship again, I’ll be happy; They,,, kimss,, holde handss,,,,

end image description]

[ask game referenced] [link to ask box]

maybe a disappointing one to read. i’ll be honest, i don’t care about this ship at all. this is in part driven by my interpretation of hornet as aromantic (aro lesbian, specifically), so any romantic ship with her involved is automatically weird for me.

like, really the premise just doesn’t appeal to me at all. i will say the aesthetic that lace and hornet have going on is quite nice, with how they seem to contrast. the fact that lace appears to be a recurring character that consistently tries to obstruct hornet on her path, much like how hornet herself does that to her sibling, adds to that as well. lace is certainly an interesting person, and hornet is as well, i just. i don’t care. i really don’t. i frankly don’t understand the popularity of this ship, however much it has.

what i really want to see with lacenet, i suppose, is exploration of hornet’s feelings towards being this involved with someone who has tried to kill her repeatedly. she’s been dancing with death since her birth, and has no doubt contributed to it many times over. surely it has to feel some sort of weird to be so solidly on the receiving side of it, from someone who seems to have deeper motives, no less. i want to know what hornet thinks, how it feels when she’s fighting lace, her thoughts on whatever strange enemy or frenemy relationship they have, and if that progresses eventually to romance then i guess i’d read it. but as is, meh. i really don’t care. their relationship as rivals, i guess you could say, that try to kill each other is far, far more interesting than any romantic application of it.

the ‘friends with benefits’ vibes square isn’t marked off because i think hornet would hatefuck lace. furthest thing from it, really. but the way they interact feels. i don’t know. is hate flirting a thing? that’s kind of how it feels. fighting while lace hurls flirty insults at hornet and sometimes she bites back with a witty one of her own, which just goads lace into spitting more at her. i would be interested in that, come to think of it lmao. but definitely not hatefucking, and most definitely not friends with benefits. these two are Not friends. they could become friends later on though i guess.

anyway, yeah. lacenet bores me honestly. i hope the rest of yall have fun with it though.

[writingwithcolor]

Jurassic period alien interacting with key cultures and historical figures in Middle East & Asia throughout history

@ketchupmaster400​ said:

Hello, so my question is for a character I’ve been working on for quite a while but wasn’t sure about a few things. So basically at the beginning of the universe there was this for less being made up of dark matter and dark energy. Long story short it ends up on earth during the Jurassic Period. It has the ability to adapt and assimilate into other life animals except it’s hair is always black and it’s skin is always white and it’s eyes are always red. It lives like this going from animal to animal until it finally becomes human and gains true sentience and self awareness. As a human it lives within the Middle East and Asia wondering around trying to figure out its purpose and meaning. So what I initially wanted to do with it was have small interactions with the dark matter human and other native humans that kinda helped push humanity into the direction it is now. For example, Mehndhi came about when the dark matter human was drawing on their skin because it felt insecure about having such white skin compared to other people. And ancient Indians saw it and thought it was cool so they adopted it and developed it into Mehndi. Minor and small interactions though early history leading to grander events. Like they would be protecting Jerusalem and it’s people agains the Crusaders later on. I also had the idea of the the dark matter human later on interacting with the prophets Jesus Christ and Muhammad. With Jesus they couldn’t understand why he would sacrifice himself even though the people weren’t deserving. And then Jesus taught them that you have to put other before yourself and protecting people is life’s greatest reward. And then with the prophet Muhammad, I had the idea that their interaction was a simple conversation that mirrors the one he had with the angel Jibril, that lead to the principles of Islam. Now with these ideas I understand the great importance of how not to convey Islam and I’ve been doing reasearch, but I am white and I can understand how that may look trying to write about a different religion than my own. So I guess ultimate my question is, is this ok to do? Is it ok to have an alien creature interact with religious people and historical events as important as they were? Like I said I would try to be as accurate and as respectable as possible but I know that Islam can be a touchy subject and the last thing I would want is to disrespect anyone. The main reason I wanted the dark matter being in the Middle East was because I wanted to do something different because so much has been done with European and American stuff I wanted to explore the eastern side of the world because it’s very beau and very rich with so many cultures that I want to try and represent. I’m sorry for the long post but I wanted you guys to fully understand what my idea was. Thank you for your time and hope you stay safe.

Disclaimer:

The consensus from the moderators was that the proposed character and story is disrespectful from multiple cultural perspectives. However, we can’t ignore the reality that this is a commonly deployed trope in many popular science fiction/ thriller narratives. Stories that seek to take religious descriptions of events at face value from an areligious perspective particularly favor this approach. Thus, we have two responses:

Where we explain why we don’t believe this should be attempted.

Where we accept the possibility of our advice being ignored.

1) No - Why You Shouldn’t Do This:

Hi! I’ll give you the short answer first, and then the extended one.

Short answer: no, this is not okay.

Extended answer. I’ll divide it into three parts.

1) Prophet Muhammad as a character:

Almost every aspect of Islam, particularly Allah (and the Qur’an), the Prophet(s) and the companions at the time of Muhammad ﷺ, are strictly kept within the boundaries of real life/reality. I’ll assume this comes from a good place, and I can understand that from one side, but seriously, just avoid it. It is extremely disrespectful and something that is not even up to debate for Muslims to do, let alone for non-Muslims. Using Prophet Muhammad as a character will only bring you problems. There is no issue with mentioning the Prophet during his lifetime when talking about his attributes, personality, sayings or teachings, but in no way, we introduce fictional aspects in a domain that Muslims worked, and still work, hard to keep free from any doubtful event or incident. Let’s call it a closed period: we don’t add anything that was not actually there.

Reiterating then, don’t do this. There is a good reason why Muslims don’t have any pictures of Prophet Muhammad. We know nothing besides what history conveyed from him. 

After this being said, there is another factor you missed – Jesus is also an important figure in Islam and his story from the Islamic perspective differs (a lot) from that of the Christian perspective. And given what you said in your ask, you would be taking the Christian narrative of Jesus. If it was okay to use Prophet Muhammad as a character (reminder: it’s not) and you have had your dark matter human interacting with the biblical Jesus, it will result in a complete mess; you would be conflating two religions.

2) Crusaders and Jerusalem:

You said this dark matter human will be defending Jerusalem against the Crusaders. At first, there is really no problem with this. However, ask yourself: is this interaction a result of your character meeting with both Jesus and Prophet Muhammed? If yes, please refer to the previous point. If not, or even if you just want to maintain this part of the story, your dark matter human can interact with the important historical figures of the time. For example, if you want a Muslim in your story, you can use Salah-Ad-Din Al-Ayoubi (Saladin in the latinized version) that took back Jerusalem during the Third Crusade. Particularly, this crusade has plenty of potential characters. 

Also, featuring Muslim characters post Prophet Muhammad and his companions’ time, is completely fine, just do a thorough research.

 3) Middle Eastern/South Asian settings and Orientalism:

The last point I want to remark is with the setting you chose for your story. Many times, when we explore the SWANA or South Asian regions it’s done through an orientalist lens. Nobody is really safe from falling into orientalism, not even the people from those regions. My suggestion is educating yourself in what orientalism is and how it’s still prevalent in today’s narrative. Research orientalism in entertainment, history... and every other area you can think of. Edward Said coined this term for the first time in history, so he is a good start. There are multiple articles online that touch this subject too. For further information, I defer to middle eastern mods. 

- Asmaa

Racism and Pseudo-Archaeology:

A gigantic, unequivocal and absolute no to all of it, lmao. 

I will stick to the bit about the proposed origin of mehendi in your WIP, it’s the arc I feel I’m qualified to speak on, Asmaa has pretty much touched upon the religious and orientalism complications. 

Let me throw out one more word: pseudoarchaeology. That is, taking the cultural/spiritual/historical legacies of ancient civilizations, primarily when it involves people of colour, and crediting said legacies to be the handiwork of not just your average Outsider/White Saviour but aliens. I’ll need you to think carefully about this: why is it that in so much of media and literature pertaining to the so-called “conspiracy theories” dealing with any kind of extraterrestrial life, it’s always Non-Western civilizations like the Aztec, the ancient Egyptians, the Harappans etc who are targeted? Why is it that the achievements of the non West are so unbelievable that it’s more feasible to construct an idea of non-human, magical beings from another planet who just conveniently swooped in to build our monuments and teach us how to dress and what to believe in? If the answer makes you uncomfortable, it’s because it should: denying the Non-West agency of their own feats is not an innocent exercise in sci-fi worldbuilding, it comes loaded with implications of racial superiority and condescension towards the intellect and prowess of Non-European cultures. 

Now, turning to specifics:

Contrary to what Sarah J. Maas might believe- mehendi designs are neither mundane, purely aesthetic tattoos nor can they be co-opted by random Western fantasy characters. While henna has existed as an art form in various cultures, I’m limiting my answer to the Indian context, (specifying since you mention ancient India). Mehendi is considered one of the tenets of the Solah Shringar- sixteen ceremonial adornments for Hindu brides, one for each phase of the moon, as sanctioned by the Vedic texts. The shade of the mehendi is a signifier for the strength of the matrimonial bond: the darker the former, the stronger the latter. Each of the adornments carries significant cosmological/religious symbolism for Hindus. To put it bluntly, when you claim this to be an invention of the aliens, you are basically taking a very sacred cultural and artistic motif of our religion and going “Well actually….extraterrestrials taught them all this.”

In terms of Ayurveda (Traditional holistic South Asian medicine)  , mehendi was used for its medicinal properties. It works as a cooling agent on the skin and helps to alleviate stress, particularly for the bride-to-be. Not really nice to think that aliens lent us the secrets of Ayurvedic science (pseudoarchaeology all over again). 

I’m just not feeling this arc at all. The closest possible alternative I could see to this is the ancient Indian characters incorporating some specific stylistic motifs in their mehendi in acknowledgement to this entity, in the same vein of characters incorporating motifs of tribute into their armour or house insignia, but even so, I’m not sure how well that would play out. If you do go ahead with this idea, I cannot affirm that it will not receive backlash.

-Mimi

These articles might help:

 Pseudoarchaeology and the Racism Behind Ancient Aliens

A History of Indian Henna (this studies mehendi origins mostly with reference to Mughal history)

Solah Shringar

2) Not Yes, But If Ignoring the Above:

I will be the dissenting voice of “Not No, But Here Are The Big Caveats.” Given that there is no way to make the story you want to tell palatable to certain interpretations of Islam and Christianity, here is my advice if the above arguments did not sufficiently deter you.

1. Admiration ≠ Research: It is not enough to just admire cultures for their richness and beauty. You need to actually do the research and learn about them to determine if the story you want to tell is a good fit for the values and principles these cultures prioritize. You need to understand the significance of historical figures and events to understand the issues with attributing the genesis of certain cultural accomplishments to an otherworldly influence. 1.

2. Give Less Offense When Possible and Think Empathetically: You should try to imagine the mindsets of those you will offend and think about to what degree you can soften or ameliorate certain aspects of your plot, the creature’s characteristics, and the creature’s interactions with historical figures to make your narrative more compatible. There is no point pretending that much of areligious science fiction is incompatible with monotheist, particularly non-henotheistic, religious interpretations as well as the cultural items and rituals derived from those religious interpretations. One can’t take “There is no god, just a lonely alien” and make that compatible with “There is god, and only in this particular circumstance.” Thus:

As stated above by Asmaa and Mimi, there is no escaping the reality the story you propose is offensive to some. Expect their outcry to be directed towards you. Can you tolerate that?

Think about how you would feel if someone made a story where key components of your interpretation of reality are singled out as false. How does this make you feel? Are you comfortable doing that to others?

3. Is Pseudoarchaeology Appropriate Here?: Mimi makes a good point about the racial biases of pseudoarchaeology. Pseudoarchaeology is a particular weakness of Western-centric atheist sci-fi. Your proposed story is the equivalent of a vaguely non-descript Maya/Aztec/Egyptian pyramid or Hindu/ Buddhist-esque statue being the source for a Resident Evil bio weapon/ Predator nest/ Assassin’s Creed Isu relic.

Is this how you wish to draw attention to these cultures you admire? While there is no denying their ubiquity in pop-culture, such plots trivialize broad swathes of non-white history and diminish the accomplishments of associated ethnic groups. The series listed above all lean heavily into these tropes either because the authors couldn’t bother to figure out something more creative or because they are intentionally telling a story the audience isn’t supposed to take seriously.*

More importantly, I detect a lot of sincerity in your ask, so I imagine such trivialization runs counter to your expressed desire to depict Eastern cultures in a positive and accurate manner.

4. Freedom to Write ≠ Freedom from Consequence: Once again, as a reminder, it’s not our job to reassure you as to whether or not what you are proposing is ok. Asmaa and Mimi have put a lot of effort into explaining who you will offend and why.  We are here to provide context, but the person who bears the ultimate responsibility for how you choose to shape this narrative, particularly if you share this story with a wide audience, is you. Speaking as one writer to another, I personally do not have a strong opinion one way or the other, but I think it is important to be face reality head-on.

- Marika.

* This is likely why the AC series always includes that disclaimer stating the games are a product of a multicultural, inter-religious team and why they undermine Western cultures and Western religious interpretations as often (if not moreso) than those for their non-Western counterparts.

Note: Most WWC asks see ~ 5 hours of work from moderators before they go live. Even then, this ask took an unusually long amount of time in terms of research, emotional labor and discussion. If you found this ask (and others) useful, please consider tipping the moderators (link here), Asmaa (coming eventually) and Mimi (here). I also like money - Marika.

[yesokaythatsfine69]

Heavy Dosage (Levi Ackerman x reader)

Description: after getting hurt during a scouting mission, y/n is given quite a heavy dosage of medication. Will her secret crush on her squad leader remain secret?

Character(s): Y/n, Hangi, Levi, nurse, eren

Pov: 3rd person

Warning(s): pain, broken bones, kissing, no spoilers

A/n: hello! I took a little break earlier and recently I've been watching two new animes, AOT and Kakegurui (both r completely different lmao) so I decided to add more fuel to the fire that is the Levi Ackerman x reader tag. Don't worry there aren't any spoilers I just wrote a cute thing.

*none of the gifts used are mine. Full credit goes to the maker.

"Shit!" That was the last thing y/n had said before she disappeared from the view of her fellow squad members. Levi watched, fear causing him to freeze. One moment she had been calling him a "old slow poke", her smile dazzling and eyes brighter than diamonds- and in an instant she was gone.

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

Pain had seared through y/n's skull when she finally landed from being thrown. The titan had grabbed a line of her odm gear and flung her, snapping the line and causing her to fall straight down and into a tree. Her body had tumbled through the branches, each branch snapping with the weight of her body and the force she had been thrown from.

Y/n was usually proud to say that Titan's couldn't touch her- she was fast, faster than almost any person in her squad- and that usually meant that she was untouchable to them. She was the one who helped the other members of her squad survive. Today, however, had been different and not even her speed had saved her.

The pain in her skull forced her eyes open. The area in which she laid was dead silent, but she didn't feel scared or worried. It was peaceful and almost poetic. She focused on her breathing, and tried to register where she had been hurt. Her head hurt, her back hurt, and her legs seethed, but she could at least feel pain.

She tried to move but only whimpered when the pain in her legs intensified. Her eyes watered. She couldn't get up and what she thought had been luck that she experienced from not dying from her tremendous fall- had suddenly become a curse. Now, she would be easily found by a titan and just as easily eaten.

"you've...got to...be fucking kidding...me." she wheezed between hot tears. Suddenly a zipping noise broke the silence around her and a small thumping sound caused her tense up. "Y/L/N!" Her eyes widened at the sound of her squad leader's voice. Then, Two arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up. Captain Levi was above her, on his knees before her- not in the ways she had always dreamed about either.

"What did you do, Brat?" His silver orbs narrowed as he searched her face. Any other time being this close to Levi would've been similar to Heaven, but now, it carried a strange and dangerous weight. "Captain Levi, I-" His expression cut her off. His face was blank, eyes were narrowed, mouth drawn up in a thin line. He was angry, she could sense his emotions beyond what he showed with his face. That had been the reason they worked so well together- y/n could read him like a book.

He seemed to notice she had been crying, and wiped away a stray tear. "I-I'm sorry, Captain Levi I-" He said nothing and hoisted her up in his arms, pressing her head against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat- constant and comforting in her ear. For several moments they trampled in the woods in silence.

Finally he spoke. "I'll get you to the wagons and you'll be okay, y/n, try to be still." His voice seemed tired and his movements were oddly weary. Y/n frowned as she looked up at him.

Somehow she felt like he had said these words not for her benefit, but for his own. He hardly ever used her first name, preferring "brat" and "y/l/n" to order her around with. Now, as his grip on her tightened, she buried her face against his chest, deciding it was best to leave her thoughts unsaid.

As she snuggled against him, he relaxed, his shoulders releasing the tension they carried since he saw that bitch titan thrown her out of his sight. Levi had been angry- but not angry at Y/n. Angry at himself for not protecting her, angry at those fucking Titan's for taking away the people he loved from him. He felt y/n adjust slightly and that's when he realized she had fallen alseep. Her breathing evened out, and she seemed limp against him.

When he reached the clearing Petra ran up to him. "Y/n! Is she okay?" Levi said nothing, and Petra watched in worry as he pushed past her.

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Sometimes lines get blurry. The separation between two distinct things gets combined and those two things once so distinctly different are now seemingly the same. Y/n stared straight ahead, boards on the walls combining and shape shifting. They had given her medicine for her pain, that fact was that her leg had been broken, along with a fractured skull and a few other twisted and mangled bones, so anything was deemed worthy to give her.

The medicine, whatever it was could definitely be considered "that good stuff". She giggled, watching as the nurse adjusted her covers. "You're trying to tickle me!" "Y/n?" Y/n's head slowly bobbed to the side, where Hanji was standing. Her arms were crossed, but a smile shown on her face.

"You look better than I was expecting." Y/n smiled widely. "It's the drugs!" Hanji mimicked her smile. Y/n, was for the most part a lively a fun person. She wasn't anywhere near as loud of bouncy as Hanji herself was- mainly because y/n had a better sense of timing. Now however, Hanji noted that her personality seemed to come on quite strongly.

"I just came to check on you, considering what I heard had happened you are very lucky." Y/n only giggled. "lucky-smucky. Luck had nothing to do with it. It's a skill to hit every single goddamn tree branch in the world and still be kicking." To empathize her point she kicked out the leg that wasn't broken.

"woah, maybe you shouldn't move too much." Hanji put her hands up. "It's okay I don't feel anything!" Y/n lifted her hand up and smacked herself right upside the head. "No pain!" Hanji smiled, "Right, I'll be sure to tell Levi how well you are doing."

Y/n shot up at her captains name. "You should tell him to come see me! It's been too long since I've seen that hot piece of ass!" Hanji frowned. "I- um... I don't think that's for the best...you seem pretty uh... preoccupied." Y/n opened her mouth to most likely say something else unexpected when the nurse reappeared, nodding to Hanji.

"I better be leaving y/n, I'm glad you are doing well. I'll see you later, yeah?' y/n nodded excitedly and Hanji let herself out.

She laughed, nodding her head. "Hot piece of ass...Levi Ackerman?" She snorted. Then, quite quickly the pieces for together and she stopped. "Oh no. Oh no. I should...wait a second, this could be quite an interesting experiment..." She smiled and turned in the direction of the lunchroom.

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"She is doing very well. So well infact she told me not to send you, she doesn't want you to worry. She'll be out before long." Hanji spoke gently to Levi who stared at his tea, his face expressionless. "What do you mean she doesn't want me to visit her? I'm her squad leader." Hanji shrugged and smiled.

"She's doing very well. You'd be wasting your time. She'll be back before you know it." Levi's eyes flashed to his friend, narrowing. The rage he had experienced when he had found her broken body...the way her teary y/c/e looked up at him... He could've exploded with rage. but he needed to stay with y/n, and that's what he had done, making sure she was safe...And now he was being told to stay away from her? His fists clenched.

Hanji seemed to see the conflict. "Why don't you try and take of yourself now? You've done enough for her." Levi only stood up, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor caused those in the lunchroom to look up at him. Leaving his tea, Levi, in his own Levi way, stormed out of the room. Hanji sat there, stirring her tea.

She raised it to her lips and smiled.

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Levi's feet practically moved on their own to the infirmary, each step more angry than the last. In angry flashbacks he felt her head pressed against his chest, her warm breathe tickling his neck, her warm orbs searching his own icy pair- he felt all of that and more...and yet she didn't want to see him?

Had those affectionate moments just been something he wished had happened instead that had actually happened. No. It couldn't have been. But the why would she try to shut him out?

He pushed open the door to the infirmary. He stood in the shadowy doorway for several seconds doing what he did best- watching.

Y/n had spent four consecutive hours counting each board- one by one. Every time she got to twenty though, she got distracted and had to start over. "Twenty-one!" "Y/l/n?" Slowly y/n's left hand, which she had used to count the board, lowered to her side. "Damnit! Lost count! At least I got to twenty one this time." Her head slowly turned to the side where her sexy captain stood, peering down at her. He looked absolutely peeved and y/n giggled.

"Well hello beautiful? Long time no see!" Levi's eyes widened the tiniest bit- but he quickly played it off. "You didn't want me here? Your own captain? Unless you forgot-" Y/n purred. "Damn you're sexy when you're mad! I don't have a clue what you're talking about but-" she shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time!" She reached up and tugged him closer.

"I- y/n-" a finger placed itself over his lips. "Shhhhh..." The finger lifted then hit him again. "Shhhhh...shhhh." y/n stared up at him with a dazed, but delighted expression. She gently stroked his face, reaching up and flicking her hair from his eyes. She smiled at his slightly dazed expression.

"how'sithangingbabey?" Levi blinked out of his daze and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand back from his mouth. "What is wrong with you?" His eyes were fairly wide and his stared at her in both worry and confusion. "I'm in love baby!" She shouted. "In love with youuuuuu!" She sang out flailing her arm and hitting him in the head.

"tch! Ow! Will you-" He paused, his brow furrowed. "You...love me?" She giggled and pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhh. Don't tell Levi." He stared at her. "I am Levi, you brat." Her eyes widened. "Whoops!" She laughed. "My bad!" Levi opened his mouth to speak when the nurse appeared. She gasped upon seeing him. "Captain Levi! I didn't know you were coming!" Y/n lifted her head up to look at the young nurse.

"hey, layoff! This Raven haired beauty's taken!" She yanked him forward. The action caught him off guard and he had to catch himself before he fell. Levi grumbled before detaching himself from her. "I'll speak to you later, y/n."

"You're leaving!?" Gently he ruffled her hair, and in the most soothing voice he could muster, he said, "I'll be back later, don't worry brat." Levi Nodded to the nurse to walk him out. As the nurse turned to follow him she glanced at y/n who mouthed aggressively "he's mine!"

At the door he turned to the nurse, "y/n was in large amounts of pain, so we gave her some medicine to dull it. It seems to have a worked a little..." The two turned back to y/n who had restarted counting the boards again. "Too well."

"tch, right." The end of lips upturned into almost a smile. "Keep me updated." The nurse nodded, "Right, sir."

Casting one last glance he left the infirmary, humming a new tune softly to himself.

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Y/n sighed happily. She had finally been released, given a brace for her leg to help her walk till she was 100% and around fifteen get well cards. Her first move was definitely to go to her room. She missed her room.

She visited with Petra and the other members of her squad, making sure to show off her cool ass brace. She also made sure to say hi to Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Jean. She hadn't seen Captain Levi yet but she figured she'd find him soon- or he'd find her. The nurse mentioned that he'd visited a few times, none of which she remembered- but the thought that he cared enough to do so warmed her up.

Y/n entered the lunchroom, coming face to face with her captain and his fellow squad leader, Hanji. "Oh hi Hanji! Hello, Captain!" Hanji immediately jumped up and hugged her tightly. "Y/n! Congratulations!" Y/n smiled brightly, and hugged her back. "Thank you! I'm feeling pretty good!" Her eyes turned to Levi, who had been watching her intently. He nodded. "The squad has been waiting for your return, y/l/n." Y/n smiled. "Well, you guys won't have to wait much longer. The nurse said just a little while longer then I'm ready to go."

Levi nodded, his expression remaining stern. "I am pretty excited to finally get some sleep in my own bed though, so I'll see you all later." She turned, but a hand wrapped itself around her wrist. Levi had stood up, and was behind her. "I'll walk you there." Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed, but she nodded. "The more...the, uh, merrier."

With curt goodbyes the two began their walk to y/n's room. Hanji had watched the interaction without surprise, sipping some tea.

She laughed to herself as the two went out of view, pushing up her glasses. "This experiment- a definitive success."

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"How do you feel?" Levi matched his pace with y/n, careful to make sure he wasn't moving too fast so that she wouldn't have to walk faster on her leg. "I feel good, itching to go back out there." The two stopped walking and turned so that they were right in front of each other instead of side by side.

Levi only made a clucking sound at her response. "Be sure not to push it, brat. You may be feeling fine now but-" He stopped talking when she put a hand on his chest. He frowned slightly and looked up at her from where his gaze had been.

"Thank you, for everything. I- I'm sorry I wasn't more careful. Next time I'll-" He placed his hand over her own. "Tch, there better not be a next time you stupid brat. If there is I do not I think I could handle it."

Her cheeks darkened. "Captain-" "Just Levi." She smiled at him. "Okay, just Levi." The slight upturn smile Levi had worn vanished at her bad joke into a frown. Lifting up his index finger he placed it directly over her lips.

"shhh..." She tried to speak. "shhhh." Y/n raised a brow at him. "I have lost enough in this life, y/n." Her eyes widened at the use of her first name, and his finger remained on her lips. "But, I cannot lose you, too...please." Her eyes glistened a, a familiar wetness clouding them. Slowly, Levi lowered his finger, and soon as he do so she pounced, pulling him into the tightest hug she could administer.

"You couldn't get get rid of me even if you wanted to." He hugged her back. "Good, because I do not want to." She pulled back. It was now or never, and this maybe the only chance she has left. Braving up, y/n swallowed thickly. "Hey...erm, uh Levi...I-I love you, okay?"

Levi smirked, his eyes twinkling with something close to mischievousness. "I know...you, kind of...told me already." Y/n pulled back. "No I didn't." "Tch, you did, y/n." She rolled her eyes. "I think I would remember telling someone I love them."

Levi frowned. "Are you calling me a liar?" Y/n laughed sharply. "Well, I'm not calling you a truther." She turned and began to walk away. "Even if I did, you could at least say it back you jerk!"

With reflexes faster than a blink of an eye, Levi had pulled her back and into his arms. She stared at him, wide eyed. They were mere inches apart now. Never had she been this close to him, and she could clearly see every inch of his face. The silver twinkle of his eyes, his long lashes, the pretty pink of his thin lips. He was so beautiful, like a statue of a god. Y/n blinked, realizing she had been staring a bit longer than innocent and met his gaze.

Levi only raised a brow, seemingly unaffected by their closeness. "I love you too, brat." He said finally, and Y/n relaxed into his arms, much like before. "Good, good. It makes doing this a lot easier." She placed her hand to his cheek, closed her eyes and then she closed the gap.

He sighed into her, clutching her tighter to him. It seemed as if he had been waiting almost as long as y/n had because it was if the flood gates had opened. She dipped her head to get to more of him and he grunted softly, easily letting her. She reached up, finding his soft undercut. She ran her finger threw his soft locks (just as soft as she imagined) and gently tugged. Levi opened his mouth a bit more in response, and she quickly took advantage of his action. Her tongue slipped in, and despite himself and who he was- he gasped.

Maybe this was all a bit quick but hell, she'd been around the man for going on a year now with nothing but this to show. It was quite upsetting, especially because it seemed as if Levi had no idea his effect on women, especially y/n. You can bet on your life, however, she was going to take advantage of it now and teach him exactly what he meant.

He grunted again and pulled his arm to her neck, clutching it softly. She hummed into his mouth, biting his lip and pulling. She loved him, everything about him, and almost as much as that- she wanted him. Now, in almost every way she could've imagined, she had him.

She was so wrapped up in him, y/n put her unbraced leg around his waist, trying to get somehow even closer than before but unfortunately she neglected to remember that her braced leg couldn't handle that much pressure yet and it collapsed under their weight. It sent both her and her lover crashing to the ground.

"oof!" "Tch! Hell!" Levi landed on top of her with a thud. The two shared a look. Levi had messy unkept hair, flushed cheeks and red, abused lips- all thanks to y/n. But she doubted she looked much better. "Are you okay, brat?" "Yeah, sorry. Looks like you made my legs weak." She smiled crookedly.

Levi only sighed and lifted her up. "Tch', Keeping you alive will be much harder than I expected." Y/n laughed and wrapped her arms around him, she was beginning to enjoy him carrying her around bridal style. "What can I say? I wasn't built for the weak."

"No," He hoisted her closer to his chest. "No, you are not."

They resumed their journey to her room. "But at least you are mine, brat."

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A/n: whoo! That was a lot more than I expected to do. I hope y'all like it and don't forget that comments and critism are always welcomed. I tried to make this to where it doesn't really involve any timeline and it's just kind of an extra thing. Thanks for reading!

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[takahero]

some descriptions of Basta in Inkheart if you’re interested!! spoiler warning just to be on the safe side, in case u haven’t read it. and my unsolicited commentary here and there

“‘Naturally I recognised them at once. Capricorn had sent his best men. Even Basta was with them.’” — pg.99

“Rasping cat’s-tongue voice” pg.125

“(Basta’s face) was thin, sharply angular, with close-set eyes…Basta was not a tall man, and his shoulders were almost as narrow as a boy’s, but Meggie held her breath when he took a step towards her…He had an aura of fury about him, or something keen and biting—” pg.126

“Only Basta wore a snow-white shirt, just as Dustfinger had said, with a red flower in the buttonhole of his jacket, a red flower like a warning.” pg.131

“He caught her eye, and with a twisted smile kissed the blade of his knife.” — pg.173 (I JUST HAD TO ADD THIS)

“‘Oh, Basta can’t write,’ replied Capricorn calmly. ‘None of my men can either read or write. I’ve forbidden them to learn.’” — pg.176 (literacy rights for Basta 2k21)

“She could see the trepidation even on Basta’s face, although he was doing his best to hide it by assuming a particularly bored expression.” — pg.185

“‘Abduction!’ Basta savoured the word. ‘Sounds good to me. Really good.’” — pg.192 (ok but if u read it a certain way. unofficial evidence that basta would enjoy reading if he could LMAO)

“‘Where’s our luggage?’ she asked.

“Dustfinger looked at her with amusement. ‘I expect Basta’s divided it out among Capricorn’s maids. He likes to ingratiate himself with them.’” — pg.213 LMAOOOOOOO OH MY GOD

“Basta was still standing in the road. His face was sharply outlined when he lit a cigarette with a lighter.” — pg.215

“And he bent down to cut through the leather thong that Basta wore around his neck. It had a little bag tied with a red drawstring hanging from it.” — pg. 231

“‘Ah, Basta!’ Fenoglio smiled. Each of his separate wrinkles expressed self-satisfaction. ‘One of the best villains I ever thought up. A rabid dog, but not half as bad as my other dark hero, Capricorn. Basta would let his heart be torn out for Capricorn, but his master is a stranger to such loyalty.’” — pg.264

“‘You know, if you were to ask me which of those two I was prouder of, Basta or Capricorn, I couldn’t tell you! Even though some critics said they were just too nasty!’” — pg.265

“Basta emphasised the word, putting his foxy face so close to Meggie’s she could see herself reflected in his eyes.” — pg.301

“‘You’ll do no such thing!’ he spat at Flatnose, as the grey cat disappeared under the wardrobe. ‘Killing cats is unlucky. How often do I have to tell you?’” — pg.303 (friendly reminder that the last time he appeared, he kicked a dog in the ribs 😐)

“Basta was walking just behind her, and she heard him quietly cursing the rain.” — pg.304 (irrelevant but i kind of hc basta to like the rain, since it would dampen dustfinger’s showbiz LMAO)

“Basta’s eyes always narrowed when he smiled.” — pg.305

“‘You wear long sleeves,’ Fenoglio continued very slowly, as if giving Basta time to take in every single word, ‘because your master likes playing with fire. You burned both arms right up to the shoulders when you obeyed his orders and set fire to the house of a man who had dared to refuse his daughter to Capricorn. Ever since then, someone else has laid the fire, and you confine yourself to playing games with knives.’” — pg.308

“‘Oh, I know all about you, Basta,’ he said. ‘I know you’d give your life for Capricorn any day, and you’re always hungry for his praise. I know you were younger than Meggie when his men picked you up, and ever since you’ve loved him like a father. But shall I tell you something? Capricorn thinks you’re stupid, and despises you for it. He despises you all, his devoted black-clad sons, although it’s his own doing that you’re still so ignorant. And he wouldn’t hesitate to set the police on to any one of you if it was to his advantage. Are you quite clear about that?’” — pg.308 (FENOGLIO…..RUTHLESS)

“Basta winked at Meggie.” — pg.310 (wink 1)

“Every cruel deed with which he had ever credited Basta was probably going through his head. Basta relished the fear on his face for a few delicious minutes.” — pg.312

“Basta’s car had not been in the car park at all since they’d come here. It was unusual for it to be gone so long, because Basta didn’t like to be away from the village for any length of time.” — pg.318 basta is a homebody guys

“‘Save your tongue for later, scribbler!” Basta interrupted. ‘I don’t like whispering.’” — pg.324

“Almost all the women in the village kept away from Basta, but he didn’t keep away from them.” — pg.337

“‘Take him, for instance,’ he said, pointing to Basta. ‘I always knew he was a very unhappy boy before you picked him up. As it says in another very fine book, it’s terribly easy to persuade children that they are worthless. Basta was convinced of it. Not that you taught him any better, oh no! Why would you? But suddenly here was someone to whom he could devote himself, someone who told him what to do — he’d found a god, Capricorn, and if you treated him badly, well, who says that all gods are kindly? Most of them are stern and cruel, wouldn’t you agree? I didn’t write all this in the book. I knew it, that was enough.’” — pg.345 (this is really the part that made my stance toward basta change. like PHEW. that’s a lot to unpack)

“Basta was notorious for his silent tread.” — pg.363

“Basta’s breath smelled of mint, fresh and sharp. Apparently a girl he’d once wanted to kiss had told him he had bad breath. The girl had regretted it, but ever since then Basta chewed peppermint leaves from morning to night.” — pg.364

“He whistled softly through his teeth, then held the book close to Meggie’s face.”— pg.374 (i was rendered speechless)

“Basta’s lips quivered with annoyance, but he bit back his reply and, without a word, put his hand under the black cloth.” — pg.377 (ugh I loved this. like we know he worships capricorn like a dog, but earlier fenoglio flat out told him capricorn couldn’t care less about what happened to him. more than that, capricorn asked basta to bring meggie and fenoglio — prisoners — into his home. later dustfinger says that basta would’ve slept on the threshold of capricorn’s room if he could but none of the men sleep there. so with all of this fresh in his mind, you can imagine him feeling quite hurt and betrayed. UGH I wish he had a greater arc surrounding capricorn…like even if we saw a few hints that his loyalty was starting to show cracks…idk what his arc is in inkspell so maybe I’ll sit tight for that)

“He was in a hurry to get back to the light of day, away from the dead and their ghosts. His hand shook as he hung his lantern on a book and opened the grating over the first cell.” — pg.409

“Dustfinger was always surprised to find how easily you could scare the man with a few words.” — pg.409 LMAOOOOO

“‘That notion of burning us isn’t a very new idea, Basta, but then you were never fond of new ideas.’” — pg.422

“His teeth were almost as white as his shirt.” — pg.442

“Meggie saw from his face that everything in him felt revulsion, but he came closer and took the creature. He held the scaly body well away from him as it wound and twisted in the air.

“‘As you see, Basta doesn’t care for my snakes!’ said the Magpie, with a smile. ‘He never did, not that that means much. As far as I know Basta doesn’t like anything but his knife. He also believed that snakes bring bad luck, which of course is pure nonsense.’ Mortola handed Basta the second snake. Meggie saw the viper’s tiny poison fangs when it opened its mouth. For a moment, she almost felt sorry for Basta.” — pg.446

“‘Basta likes to use snakes to scare women who reject his advances. It didn’t work with Resa. How did it go exactly — didn’t she finally put the snake outside your door, Basta?’” — pg.446 (10/10 resa & snake well-deserved)

“Basta did not want neighbours. Indeed, he wanted no other company but Capricorn’s. Dustfinger knew Basta would have slept on the threshold of Capricorn’s room if he had been allowed to, but none of the men lived in the main house.” — pg.478

“Basta was probably the only man in Capricorn’s village who locked his front door.” — pg.480

“They said in the village that whenever Capricorn had a house set on fire Basta took away a brick or stone, even though he feared fire at other times, and clearly that story was true.” — pg.480

“(Everything in Basta’s house was scrubbed clean, as spotless as his snow-white shirt.)” — pg.481

“Once or twice, footsteps approached, but each time they passed by the house. What a good thing Basta had no friends.” — pg.482

“Basta was not in a good way. Whenever they looked at him they saw his hands clinging to the bars, knuckles white under his sun-tanned skin.” — pg.503 (BASTA’S SUNTANNED?!?!)

“Basta in particular was the object of enough scorn and derision for ten men, and from his failure to react at all one could only guess at the depths of his despair.” — pg.503

“For the fraction of a second life came back into Basta as his former lord and master stopped by the bars; he raised his head, his eyes pleading silently, like a dog begging for forgiveness…Basta only bowed his head and stared at the floor. Elinor thought he looked like an oyster with the flesh and life sucked out of it.” — pg.504 (i honestly still can’t wrap my head around his behaviour in this chap. i mean yes, the gladiator-style death sentence looming over his head can’t be understated. but i think for me it was how rapidly his spirits deteriorated from screaming for help in the cell to becoming a husk of a man before he even saw capricorn again? how?? was it all because of dustfinger spooking him so bad in the crypt?? 🤔🤔)

[risingsunresistance]

im considering playing skyblock but im a little intimidated ;-; do you perhaps have any tips for beginners

being intimidated is understandable, i did the same thing when i made my profile. i started it up, barely did anything, and then left for a year 😔

before i start rambling, if you dont wanna read a massive text wall or just want slightly more professional advice, hellcastle and tylerrrr have a really good video guide for beginners (a bit outdated now since updates, but it still works for the most part. just ignore everything related to the nether)

SORRY THIS ASK IS SO LONG LMAO i’ll put it under a read more

from personal experience (take my advice with a grain of salt and play how you wanna play) for a while the npcs will mostly guide you around. they’ll take you to the basics in the graveyard for combat, the gold mines for mining, the barn for farming, etc. the beginning isnt too bad! but getting out of the beginning is worse jkfdhsk

if you’re having trouble killing mobs initially, i recommend the pumpkin armor! VERY cheap, you can get pumpkins at the barn, and it boosts your damage and defense by 10%! i’ve been using it a lot when i play bingo, which starts you on a new profile. after that, the best beginner armor everyone will recommend you is lapis armor, which you get from the deep caverns. you’ll be good with that for a little while, or if you stick to mining and get to at least level 12, you can get an upgrade in the dwarven mines by killing ice walkers. the glacite armor is really good for defense, but it takes a while to get. you could also buy it relatively cheap from the auction house (same with most of this gear). there is also starter gear being sold in the hub now, but tbh i think you’d be better off with the normal progression of the game... up to you tho :0

a great starting weapon is the raider axe! it costs about 100-200k in the auction house last i checked, and the actual method of obtaining it is pretty convoluted, so it’s a bit hard to get when you’re starting out, but it’s well worth saving the money. you can sell crops, fish, mob drops, etc to make money early on. besides that, a SUPER early weapon set can be bought from the weapon smith in the hub. there’s an undead sword, spider sword, and end sword that all deal double damage to respective mods and they’re EXTREMELY cheap

if you dont feel like fighting right now, the rest of the progression is pretty straight forward for a while! for fishing you just... fish. slowly upgrade your fishing rod through the fishing collection, use bait to make it go by a bit faster, etc. foraging you just... forage. the jungle axe and the treecapitator are literally the only foraging items, and there are a whopping two pets for foraging. mining you mine, but that gets a bit complicated in the dwarven mines, i could write an essay on that alone. enchanting you enchant tools and armor, but at enchanting level ten you can unlock a little minigame! and for alchemy you just brew potions. it gets a bit expensive, i’d save that one for later

there’s also pets for everything! i wouldnt worry about those *too much* yet, but some of them you’ll get as you do other things, like the rock pet. you get one just by mining ores. you should always have a pet out when you’re doing ANYTHING so that it’ll get exp from you and level up!

there’s ALSO minions, they gather resources for you while you’re offline! you also get a bit of exp from them, so you can use them for that if you have a particular skill you hate. or you can use them to make money if you sell back what they make, so if you wanna optimize them for money go for that! hyminions is a good website for figuring out minion profits

HUGE TIP it can be a bit annoying, but getting the fairy souls is worth it if you’re struggling. even just a few can add up and make a difference. timedeo has a guide to them all (some videos are linked in the description since more were added later on) so you dont have to find them all on your own. they give you small stat boosts, but once you have a lot they can nearly double your damage

and of course, if you’d ever wanna know something more specific than this general stuff, i’d be happy to answer asks or even run around with you in the game :D

[blossom-hwa]

Brave - CHAN

I honestly still can’t believe I’ve finished this? There was a time I didn’t think I’d get to writing this fully until 2021 lmao?? And now it’s the longest fic in the whispers of nature series I need to go lie down

Dedicated to @wingkkun​ because screaming to Kai was like 95% of the reason I wrote this so fast <3 I also appreciate your fanart SO MUCH you are the entire reason tbz has such a presence in this fic!!

(reposted for... the second time without gifs AND links if it doesn’t work I'll cry)

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, nature spirit!au

Triggers: mild descriptions of violence (nothing graphic)

Word Count: 12.9k

Through tears, heartbreak, and a bit of love, Chan teaches you how to be brave once again.

SKZ Masterlist | Whispers of Nature

Red is simultaneously a color of love and a color of death. It is the color of passion, the color of a bride’s dress and the roses she carries down the aisle, but also the color of blood seeping slowly out of an open wound.

Right now, watching the wedding, surrounded by pale red flowers and silks and draperies, you feel as though you’re sitting at a funeral.

Your dress isn’t red, of course. No matter how much you wish you could leave the elegant hall and run away forever, you wouldn’t disrespect the bride in such a fashion. Not only is she the crown princess of your kingdom, she is also kind, a gentle, intelligent, bright woman who will be a brilliant queen when she is crowned tomorrow.

No wonder she is the love of your best friend’s life.

Something in you itches to just start screaming, to draw your sword and ruin the festivities. But you have no sword, only a sparkling ivory gown chosen by the kind princess herself. Today, as Jacob said, you are here as a friend. Not as a knight, not as a guard, not as a protector. A friend.

Somehow, that word feels so much worse than a cold “protector” would.

The dress is shimmering white, pale and beautiful, dotted with small crystals that shimmer like clouds and stars. It should make you feel lighter than air, light with happiness for your best friend and the woman he is marrying.

But the soft fabric feels cloying on your skin, heavy and strange and choking. It’s not that you can’t wear a dress – no, you’ve gone undercover many times at balls and galas as an unseen eye to protect Jacob, after he took his place as his father’s heir. It’s the situation.

This gown was made with good intentions. The heaviness in your heart has dragged those good intentions away, replacing them with dread, anger, guilt, and sadness.

At the altar, somewhere simultaneously very close and very far away, Jacob smiles at his bride-to-be, holding her soft hands between his rougher ones, reciting the vows that will bind them for the rest of their lives. You stifle the urge to place your hands over your ears.

Oh, spirits.

He says the word “love,” and you have to fight the visceral flinch that threatens to tear through your body.

His bride’s words are not quite as painful as his. You didn’t know her as well as you knew him (does she know his favorite color is burgundy, a red between scarlet and purple, the color of roses on the darkest night?), so her vows don’t sting as much. But there’s pain just the same – throbbing, subtle, never harsh but ever present.

The neckline of your dress feels too hot against your skin.

With sick dread, you listen to her voice taper away, see the trembling smile on her face as she stares into the face of the nobleman’s son. Jacob stares back with all the stars of the sky in his eyes.

(Did he never notice that you looked at him the same way?)

The priest takes their hands, guides them through the “I dos.” They are a radiant couple, pure red covering pale skin and silky hair.

Your heart, smothered in innocent white cloth, cries.

The priest’s next words ring through your head, rattling around your mind with a force to rival the club that gave you last year’s concussion. “You may kiss the bride,” you hear, muffled as though he is speaking through water.

The red-covered couple leans in close. One of Jacob’s hands cups her cheek almost reverently, while the other gently grasps her fingers. He looks at her like she hung the moon that illuminates the red roses of his night.

You’re a knight. You’re one of the Guard. You’re brave, courageous, able to face down any foe without hesitation, ready to fight to the death for your country and the people that you love.

As their lips touch, you close your eyes.

(You’re a coward.)

. . . . .

Your boots echo loudly on the hard marble floor. As you approach the throne, the large, wooden doors swing shut behind you with a soft thud. You sink to your knees, head bowed.

“Rise,” your queen says, her voice lilting and sweet and perfect in the shining chamber. Her king consort, your best friend (is he still your best friend? You aren’t quite sure), sits by her side.

Respectfully, you stand, careful to hide any vestiges of pain on your face. It’s been several months since the wedding, and you’ve gone back to the Crown’s Guard, assigned to protect the king and queen and train the guards for their duties.

The metal of your armor, though heavier than the ivory dress that still hangs in your closet, feels lighter on your body. It is protection, from swords and words and emotions.

“We received the request for your leave of absence,” the queen says. Her eyes convey the perfect amount of sadness and wisdom. “We would be sorry to see you go.”

Jacob looks at you beseechingly. He wants you to change your mind, to stay as his friend and protector. Your mind tells you that you should stay – after all, you know little of the other kingdoms, of the lands you have decided to travel and explore. Staying in the country you know best is the safest option, for you and for the royal family.

But your heart tells you to go, and on this matter, you will listen. You wouldn’t be able to live here long, watching Jacob and his queen rule happily together for the rest of your days. You wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing their children romp around, watching them dance together at balls, hearing the cries of the common folk singing praises of the royal couple.

“However, though it pains us to see such a trusted member of the Guard gone, it is your life, and we wish for you to live it to the fullest.” The queen smiles gently, holding out a folded letter. “This contains a copy of your signed request, as well as a letter of recommendation to any future employer you may seek.”

She’s kind. So kind. Your throat closes up as you take the letter, and you can barely choke out a “thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And do remember,” Jacob adds, “that you will always have a place in our guard, should you choose to return.”

“I thank you for your kindness, Your Majesties.” You bow low, touching your hand to your head in a gesture of utmost respect. “I, too, am sad to go. However, I do not doubt that I leave you in very capable hands.” A ghost of your usual smirk appears on your lips. “And I am sure, Your Majesty, that the King Consort has enough skill to keep the two of you safe.”

The queen, being the wonderful lovely woman she is, chuckles slightly. “If he was taught by you, I am sure he will.” She smiles. “We wish you the best, Protector of the Crown.”

. . .

Jacob catches up to you later, just as training has finished for the day. As you bid goodbye to the last recruits, he enters through the back door. You recognize his footsteps and put on a smile as you turn around.

“I could’ve been an attacker, you know,” he says, slipping into the easy banter you’ve established over a decade of friendship.

“You think I don’t recognize your footsteps by now?” The smile stays on your face more easily now, not because the pain is any less, but because you’ve had more practice.

A short silence hangs in the air. Sweat from your hair drips onto your leather tunic, while not a speck of dust lies on the rich silk that clothes your best friend. It reminds you of how far apart you are now.

“Is there really no way I can persuade you not to leave?” Jacob finally asks. His mouth is downturned in the slight pout you’ve grown to love, while his eyes hold the hope that made you fall.

Your mind screams yes. Your heart shouts no.

“Not this time, Cobi.” The nickname slips out before you can even think. “I’ve made my decision. It’s time for me to go.”

Jacob sighs. “Could you at least tell me why?”

You could. Speaking words isn’t as hard as other people think it is. It’s just that once you say them, you can never take them back.

Should you tell him?

His eyes are earnest. They’re honest. They want the brutal truth that you’ve grown accustomed to giving him over the years.

But the easiest lies are those that carry a hint of truth.

“I’ve never traveled.” The untruth falls easily from your lips. “Sure, I’ve gone to the countries where we were called to battle, and I was around when you had to go places for business, but I never got to really see anything. I want to explore, see the world before I’m too old.”

He doesn’t completely believe you. You know that for sure. You can see it in the downturned quirk of his lips, the suspicion as he blinks, but he knows better than to question it. He knows you would tell him everything if you could.

(This time, you can’t.)

“And here I was, thinking I could find you someone in court to repay you for all you’ve done for me.” Jacob smiles, completely unaware of how his words are stabbing holes into your heart. “Visit, all right? You’ll always be welcome here.”

You can almost hear your heart shattering, the pieces breaking off bit by bit as they fall to the floor. But you smile. “I’ll try,” you say, because here you won’t lie and say that you will. You won’t give your best friend, the love of your short life, a promise you may not be able to keep. “I’ll try.”

He hugs you, staining his silken shirt with the sweat of your tunic. You hesitate a moment, then fall into the embrace, taking a final comfort in the strength of his arms. It hurts, but it’s a memory. And even though you want to escape, you don’t want to forget Jacob. Ever.

“I’ll see you off when you go,” Jacob says when you break apart. “Tell me when, all right?”

Should you tell him? you wonder. Will him seeing you off do anything but hurt you more?

It won’t. But your pain means little in the face of Jacob’s, not when you’ve already hurt him so much with your desire to leave. You’ve injured him enough. “I will,” you promise.

Later that night, you wonder if you should have told him the true reason you were leaving. You wonder if you should have confessed everything, laid your heart bare and told him how much he truly means to you.

No, you eventually decide. You’re glad you didn’t. Better to not ruin his happiness with his wife or his remaining memories of you.

(Or maybe you were just too scared to tell him.)

. . .

You set out early in the morning, just as the sun is beginning to peek over the horizon. A part of you hoped that Jacob would be too tired to send you off, but you knew he could never do that. He cares for you.

Just not in the way you care for him.

He meets you at the stables, where you’re outfitting your favorite horse for the journey. In his loose tunic and trousers, it almost feels like the two of you are in your teens again, waking early to train for your positions in the Guard.

Those were the good days, you think. There wasn’t a worry in the world besides making it past the next test. Jacob’s father wasn’t dead, and he didn’t have to leave the Guard to take over his household’s duties. Meanwhile, you had no idea of your feelings. There was no heartbreak.

Better times.

Words aren’t necessary, not this morning. Jacob helps you saddle your horse and store your belongings in silence. If he notices you stiffening – just barely, mind you, you’re much better at hiding it now – when his fingers brush against yours, he doesn’t say anything.

When everything is finished, you linger for a moment more. It hits you that you’re really leaving the place and the people you’ve called home for so long with no intention of coming back.

Jacob’s eyes are sad but tinged with hope when he finally speaks. “You’ll always be welcome here, you know that, right?”

Your chest tightens. You know he’s asking, one more time, for you to stay.

Last chance to tell him, you think. Last chance to clear the air.

But you’re still a coward.

“I know,” you reply. “But I have to go, Jacob.”

He doesn’t ask you why, not this time.

You wrap him in a hug, one last hug before you set off forever. A piece of your heart shatters when he puts his arms around you, squeezing your body to his in that secure, soft hold that’s just so him. So caring, so sweet, so Jacob.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

“Safe travels, Y/N,” he says as you swing yourself onto the horse. His eyes sparkle. You know he’s holding back tears, too.

You give him one last smile, imprinting the memory of his voice saying your name in your mind. “Thank you, Jacob.”

When you ride away, you only look back once. Jacob smiles in the distance, hand raised in farewell. A small tear on his cheek barely glints in the morning sunlight.

You wave back.

. . . . .

Travel is liberating, truly – though you loved being a knight, there’s something so free about not wearing armor all the time, not having everyone recognize you as one of the Crown’s Guard. You don’t have to listen to anyone, you don’t have to watch out for constant danger. You don’t have to worry about anyone, now, but yourself.

There’s a little guilt in this pleasure, as well as some unease. It’s strange not to follow the strict routine you’ve held yourself to for over a decade, and it’s even weirder not to have someone you are charged to protect.

Well, you have to protect yourself, you guess. But that just… doesn’t come as naturally.

You eventually force yourself stop thinking about it. Thoughts like these weigh down your mind and take away from the joys of exploration, you firmly remind yourself. So you content yourself with roaming small towns and villages, meeting the people, picking up new skills with which to make a living.

(You never knew you were so bad at cooking, but at least you get better.)

The spirits treat you kindly for the first few years. The money from your work as a knight keeps you afloat as you learn to make a new living (you avoid using the queen’s letter – that would draw attention, and you don’t want any of that now), and when that runs out, you put your newfound abilities to use wherever people care to pay you for them.

It’s not a rich existence. Nothing is certain in this life, not the way it was when you lived in the palace barracks and your basic needs were always met. Here, you can rely only on yourself for food and water and shelter.

But it’s enough. Everywhere you go, you meet new people – rich and poor, rude and kind – and it only enhances your wonder at the world around you. Truly, you think, you lived in a bubble before. Now, even though you’re poorer, you can see everything your eyes glanced over as a knight.

(And if you sometimes miss Jacob’s warm smile, even if it never spoke of love as deep as yours, it doesn’t matter. You’ve made your decision. You won’t go back.)

It isn’t like you’re losing your fighting skills, either. You still have your sword, something you refuse to part with no matter how little money you have. There’s plenty of danger – bandits, thieves, rich boys who think they own the streets – and as such, plenty of opportunities for you to keep your senses sharp.

It’s after one of these fights that you meet the moon child, Changbin. He appears in the dark alley after you’ve knocked the last man out and takes concern with the bleeding wound on your upper arm.

“I’m fine,” you try to tell him as he firmly guides you away from the alley and towards a dark patch of trees. “I’m fine – hey, please let go of me.”

Hearing the urgency in your voice, he drops your arm. Your hand immediately goes to the sword at your hip. “Where are you taking me?” you snap, eyes flickering toward the trees.

He reddens. “I’m so stupid,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. “I stay in the woods,” he explains. “If you’ll let me take you there, I can help you clean your wound.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “You stay in the woods?” you repeat, incredulous. “Why –”

A breeze shifts his hair away from his ear, revealing a pure white flower dangling from a slim chain, glowing in the moonlight.

A moon child.

Oh.

In all of your years of traveling, you never thought you would truly meet a spirit.

“My Lord,” you say, dropping hastily to your knees. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier.”

“Please, none of that.” The moon child tugs you back up, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m just a moon child, none of the ‘my Lord’ stuff. My name is Changbin.”

Changbin doesn’t turn out to be a bandit masquerading as a moon child, thankfully, so you allow him to clean your wound in his makeshift hut in the middle of the trees. He introduces himself fully as a wanderer. Not a traveler, he clarifies, because travelers roam the world for pleasure. He does it out of necessity.

(The look of desolation in his eyes convinces you not to ask.)

He becomes your companion for months, nearly a year, walking with you from city to city until he decides to part ways in a small village near a forest. By that time, you’re sad to see him go – he’s been a wonderful friend – but like Jacob never asked the reason for your departure, you honor Changbin’s desire for silence.

He does leave you with one piece of advice, “traveler’s wisdom,” he calls it (you punch him in the arm when he says that in this high, haughty voice). “Villagers will tell you that these woods are dangerous,” he says once the two of you have calmed down. “They’ll say it’s haunted by spirits. And there is danger, it’s true, but there is also safety.”

You listen carefully.

“In the heart of the woods, there is a shrine. If ever you find yourself lost or in trouble, go into the forest at the break of dawn and find the shrine. The priestesses will take you in. If you can’t find the shrine by dark, though, leave as fast as you can.” The seriousness in Changbin’s eyes tells you he isn’t joking this time. “The forest isn’t nearly as dangerous during the day as it is during the night.”

So you travel for another year, keeping Changbin’s words in the back of your mind. As you continue, though, money begins to get scarce. These villagers are more suspicious than others you’ve met and aren’t as quick to hire a newcomer, especially one so poor but who bears such a sword (you’ll never sell it, not ever). Their suspicion is understandable, but it doesn’t make anything better for you.

You’re lost, now. You sold your horse and fine clothes a long time ago, leaving you with nothing from your old life but your memories and your sword. You’ve become a wanderer, not a traveler – forced to roam for no reason other than you must.  

Several times, you mull over returning to the Guard. Jacob said he would welcome you back, and the thought of a full stomach and a place to sleep almost make up your mind on the worst nights.

But even though you want to see Jacob again, want to remember his warmth and kindness, a green snake twists its way around your heart, sliding up your throat every time you think of going back to him. He’ll never accept you, not truly, the snake hisses. He’ll never love you the way you love him.

And try as you might, you can’t stomach the thought of facing him again, not when you made the choice to leave.

So you remain a coward, a blind, stupid, stubborn coward. Instead of going to a place you know, a place where you would find care and acceptance, you throw your lot into Changbin’s advice.

You decide to find the shrine.

. . .

You’re on your last coins when you finally make it back to the village where you and Changbin parted ways. As dawn breaks, you take a breath, summoning your last strength, and head between the trees.

It’s eerie, a bit, but so beautiful. As the sun rises, the sky turns a beautiful shade of blue that melds with the trees’ greenery. It almost distracts you from the fact that you legitimately have zero idea where you’re going – Changbin only told you the shrine was at the heart of the forest, nothing else. You’ve been marking your path with stones you picked up along the way, but something tells you that won’t help much if you’re being chased by… an evil spirit. Or something.

(It’s embarrassing and slightly scary to say it, but you don’t think you have the strength anymore to outrun such a spirit, much less fight one.)

Luck seems to finally be on your side, though, because after exhaustedly pushing through a crowd of bushes, you come face to face with a beautiful shrine, surrounded by wild gardens and small stone buildings.

Several young men and women – a few barely older than children – look up at the rustling of leaves. For a few moments, they stare at your undoubtedly grimy, gross face. You only stare back.

It feels like an eternity has passed before one of the young women stands and walks up, a gentle smile on her face. “Hello, traveler.”

“Hello,” you manage, voice croaking with disuse. You clear your throat, face hot. “I’m sorry for intruding. I just… I met… I don’t know if you know him, but I met a moon – a man named Changbin –”

“You met Changbin?” Her eyes take on a new intensity and a sliver of joy.

“Um, yes.” You try to smile. “He told me if I was lost and needed a place to stay, I could try to find the shrine.” Looking down at your dirty hands, you bite your lip in shame. “I’m sorry. I can leave if you want, I’ve just… I don’t have a place to stay. I can cook, clean, anything you need help with. And, um…” You hold out the remaining coins in your pocket. “I have these?”

A rough hand closes your fingers over the money. “Keep your coins, traveler.” The woman smiles widely. “Changbin would only tell a true friend about the shrine, and a friend of Changbin’s is always a friend of ours.”

As she leads you into the shrine, the only thing you feel is guilty, overwhelming, crushing relief. Relief that you won’t have to face Jacob once more. Relief that you won’t have to face your heart once more.

The mere thought of your cowardice makes you cringe.

. . .

The shrine, you learn, is a very busy place. You wake up pretty early the next day, unused to the fact that you have an actual futon now and not just the ground, but already the other two girls in the room are getting dressed. Feeling distinctly out of place, you start to follow suit.

“Oh, you don’t need to get up just yet!” One of them smiles. “You’re a guest, traveler. Take some time to rest.”

“No, it’s all right.” You smile back, hoping it isn’t as awkward as it feels. “I’ve never been able to sleep too late, and I don’t feel right intruding on your hospitality without giving something back in return. Is there anything I can help with?”

So you find yourself in the garden after breakfast, sweating under the sun with a boy around your age named Kevin. He’s cheerful. Very fun company. Somehow, he makes the monotonous task of pulling weeds enjoyable, even takes your mind off of how out of place you feel in this quaint shrine.

Walking back into the shrine after spending the day in the garden, you wave off Kevin’s offer to bring you dinner, telling him you’re going to take a shower instead. But because you’re an idiot, you forget the fact that you have no idea where the showers are.

Kevin’s already walking away, and you honestly feel too embarrassed to call after him and ask. So, ignoring the curious stares you’re garnering from the other girls and boys, you start walking in an arbitrary direction.

It’s a mistake. As the sun sets, you feel like you’ve wandered the grounds at least four times, but you can’t even find a semblance of a shower room in the whole shrine. You’re about to give up when the priestess who welcomed you walks out of a nearby building, followed by a young man with curly blond hair.

You really don’t mean to catch his eye. In fact, you’re drawing away, about to walk in the other direction, when he looks up and fixes your gaze with his. His eyes narrow.

You suddenly feel very uncomfortable.

The priestess – what was her name? Priestess Yang? You think that’s it – turns around and sees you there, immediately breaking into a gentle smile. “Oh, hello, Y/N!”

Sheepishly, you wave. “Hello, Priestess.”

“You welcomed the sword-bearer?” the man interrupts.

What?

You’re not even carrying your sword. You left it back in the room, thinking it might be viewed as a threat if you brought it around. And you’ve never seen this man in your life. So how does he know that about you?

The priestess gives him a scolding look. “Chan, the shrine welcomes those who are lost.”

“But a sword-bearer?” he – Chan – argues. “You do remember what kinds of damage they cause?”

Indignation rises in your chest. He doesn’t even know you, and he’s already making assumptions? “Hey –”

“Changbin told her to find us if she was lost,” Priestess Yang cuts in smoothly. “If Changbin can trust this sword-bearer, I’m sure you can find it in yourself to do so too, Chan.”

Chan just looks at you with undisguised suspicion in his eyes. You glare back. How dare he assume such things about your character?

“Were you looking for someone, Y/N?” Priestess Yang asks, pulling you out of your annoyance.

“Well, no.” The sheepish smile finds its way back to your face. “I was, um, looking for the showers.”

“Oh, they’re just over there! I’ll show you the way.” She pats Chan’s shoulder. “I’ll see you, Chan.”

Chan smiles briefly, then disappears into the air, leaving behind the faintest scent of grass and springtime.

The priestess laughs at the shocked look on your face. “Chan is our forest guardian,” she explains, leading you onto a dirt path. “He helps keep us safe.”

Uneasiness crawls up your spine. “Is that how he knew I had a sword?”

“Yes.” She nods. “He sees everything, knows of all those who travel the forest. It’s part of his Sight.”

A ripple of annoyance passes through your mind.

All that sight, and he couldn’t help me once? you grumble internally. Thanks a lot, guardian.

Suffice to say, even though Priestess Yang encourages you to have an open mind, your opinion of Chan isn’t the highest.

. . .

The discomfort of being the “new traveler” at the shrine stays for a week or so. By then, most of the residents are more or less used to your presence (you just ignore Chan whenever he gives you one of his suspicious looks), and you’ve carved out a small niche for yourself, taking care of the shrine children.

There are more than you expected, surprisingly. You would’ve thought the shrine was primarily made up of older teens, if anything, who could find their way here. When you mention this to Kevin, he gets a faraway look in his eye. “The shrine opens its arms to the lost,” he says in reply. “It makes itself easier to find for children, because they often can’t journey here themselves.”

“Abusive families?”

Kevin bites his lip. “Yes.”

This knowledge only makes you want to protect them more.

As much as you enjoy talking with Kevin in the garden, it’s so much easier to work with the shrine children, you find. They’re sweet and kind, if rambunctious, and you make it your duty to keep them occupied and safe while the older kids and priestesses work.

“Y/N, Y/N!” One of the older children, Yuna, comes running up one afternoon. “Priestess Jeon said you could take us into the forest for a walk!”

“Who else?” you ask. “Not just you, right?”

“Chaeryeong, Sunwoo, and Eric want to come too.” She looks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Please?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you weigh the merits and dangers of a walk. It’s going to get dark in a few hours, so you can’t stay out long, but if one of the head priestesses agreed, it couldn’t be too bad of an idea. The kids aren’t too young, either. They’ll listen if something goes wrong.

“If you get one of the messenger boys to come, we can go,” you eventually decide. If something happens, at least you’ll be able to send someone off to get help quickly. Just in case, though, you strap your sword to your side.

Juyeon meets you with the four kids at the shrine’s entrance. Your heart sinks a little – you hoped Yuna would find Kevin – but Juyeon is pleasant enough. He returns the smile you flash at him, anyway.

The walk is uneventful, for the most part. Eric and Yuna pepper you with questions about your work as a knight while Sunwoo and Chaeryeong listen in rapture. Really, it hurts a little to talk about your life in years past, but for the kids, you’ll do it. The smiles on their faces are worth it.

When you start walking back to the shrine, though, the air changes. It doesn’t ripple right – the wind feels strange, somehow evil. Juyeon clearly feels it too, from the way his eyes are darting around the trees. With an unspoken agreement, you begin herding the kids along faster.

There’s barely a change in the wind when the thing – whatever it is – swoops down. Only the blur of a wing in the side of your vision alerts you and you shout, pushing Eric out of the owl’s range and drawing your sword.

“What the fuck is that?” you snap, brandishing your blade.

Juyeon’s face is white as he gathers the children. “Screech owl!”

“Screech owl?”

Then the thing – screech owl, you guess – dives down again, and there’s no time to talk.

“Juyeon!” you yell. “Get them out of here!”

He doesn’t argue, just herds the children together and races away. Smart boy.

You’ve never fought an opponent in the air before. It isn’t fun. The owl is fast, too fast, almost like a damn mosquito racing through the air as you try to squash it, only a million times bigger and fiercer.

Your sword slashes through the air as you duck and twist and hide behind trees, feathers fluttering to the grass all around you. Awful shrieks ring through the air and you honestly can’t tell if it’s you or the bird – all of your senses are jumbled up.

Adrenaline courses through your veins even as the sun sets further, washing the forest in pale evening light. The bird seems to take delight in the onset of night – it swoops faster, hoots louder, and is in general just a much bigger asshole than before (if that was possible).

“ARGH!” A claw slices the top of your shoulder. If I had my armor…

But you don’t, so you duck behind another tree. Think, Y/N, think, you tell yourself as you heave deep breaths. Wait, no, don’t think. Thinking gets you killed.

Just listen.

The air is still. You don’t move a muscle.

Then –

The faintest brush of wind on your left.

Your sword cuts through meat and bone, and the owl falls, dead, at your feet.

For a moment, you just stand there, gasping, staring at the blood dripping off your blade and pooling from the owl’s body.

Gross.

“Thank you.”

For not the first time that afternoon, you let out a deathly screech and leap away. Clapping a hand over your heart, you glare at the newcomer.

“… Chan?”

“That’s my name.” The forest guardian raises an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “Thank you for killing the owl.”

You just look at him, eyebrows fully wrinkled in annoyance and confusion. “If you wanted the owl dead, why didn’t you kill it yourself? You’re the forest guardian, surely you have the power to do that much.”

“I can’t kill things just because I want to,” Chan replies. It should sound antagonistic, you think, but the look in his eyes is softer than he’s ever looked at you. Appreciative, maybe? “It would upset the forest’s balance if its guardian killed one of those who live in its domain. I can only defend the forest against those that mean it deadly harm, not those that are merely dangerous.”

Wiping your sword on the edge of your tunic, you mull that over. “But if the screech owl was too dangerous, wouldn’t that upset the balance of the forest in the end anyway?”

“We weren’t at that point yet.” Chan raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “But you killed it, so we’ll never know if that would’ve happened.”

“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”

He laughs. It’s a surprisingly cheerful sound – you thought it might sound like, you don’t know, someone croaking (look, you never had the greatest opinion of Chan until this point, and that’s still in the air). “I don’t think it is,” he finally says. “And I’m sorry. I was wrong about you being like all of the other sword-bearers who came to this forest. You clearly care for the shrine children.”

An apology. That’s something. Grudgingly, you force yourself to see Chan in a better light. “Apology accepted.”

For a few seconds, you just stand there, feeling the air turn more awkward by the second. “Um –”

“Do you need the way back?” Chan interrupts, a knowing glint in his eye.

By all the spirits, why did you have to meet him when you were lost at the shrine? Now he thinks you’re bad with directions, which you swear you’re really not, you just hadn’t been at the shrine long enough to figure it out.

Embarrassment creeps up your skin as Chan’s smirk grows. “… Yes.”

(And, okay, the forest guardian is a little infuriating and you find yourself wanting to hit him several times on the way back. But really, he isn’t that bad. Though you’d rather die than let him know you think that of him.)

. . .

Chan comes back the next day. You don’t expect him there, especially because he never visits the shrine more than one day in a row, but he surprises you with a smile and the offer of a walk.

“This isn’t your plan for killing a sword-bearer without anyone finding out, is it?” you ask, raising a nonplussed eyebrow as you follow the guardian out of the shrine. You’re not sure why, but it’s so easy to fall into banter with Chan the way you used to joke around with the other knights in the Guard.

Chan snorts. “As a centuries-old guardian of the forest, wouldn’t you think I’d have a little more wisdom than to kill you after several people at the shrine witnessed you leaving with me?”

You very visibly keep a hand on your sword just in case.

“So why did you invite me on a walk?” you ask after several moments. Chan’s bare feet are silent against the grass, but your boots make slightly louder thumps as you step over stones and fallen branches. “I know it wasn’t because of my scintillating personality.”

He stops walking. “I’ve heard you used to be a knight,” he says bluntly. “I wanted to know what kind of sword-bearer you were to leave such a prestigious position and even befriend Changbin, of all people.”

“What’s wrong with befriending Changbin?” you ask, desperately dodging the first part of Chan’s implied questions. “You make it sound like he hates… sword-bearers. He literally dragged me away after I beat up a bunch of men in an alley with my sword so he could clean the one wound I got on my shoulder.”

“Ah. That explains it.” Chan nods. “He saw you do good things with your blade.”

“… Yes?”

“Sword-bearers killed the girl he loved,” Chan explains. “Well, archers, really, but swords were involved.”

You swallow. That explains his wandering tendencies. “Oh. Who sent them?”

“The king of Adment.”

The title brings a scowl to your face. “Oh, him.” You spit. “That would explain it.”

Chan looks at you curiously. “You hold a grudge towards him as well?”

“He was never the friendliest to my kingdom,” is your brief reply before diverting the topic again. “So, is that also the reason you hate sword-bearers in your forest?”

“Whenever sword-bearers trespass, they almost always bring destruction.” Chan’s face turns hard. “I’ve learned not to take chances.”

The ages-old anger in his eyes speaks of a wisdom far older than the youthful form Chan takes. You narrow your eyes. “How old are you, exactly? You said centuries, but how many?”

He smirks, though there’s something weary in his gaze. “I’ve been alive for over a millennium.”

“What?”

“I can tell you more about that another day,” he says, teasing. You want to complain that he can’t leave you on a cliffhanger like that, but the sun is beginning to set, and you have things to do at the shrine. “Do you need an escort?”

You resist the urge to punch him, forest guardian or no. “I’m not that bad with directions,” you grouse. “You just caught me on a bad day. I can find my way back.”

He walks you back to the shrine anyway. And day by day, after every conversation you have, he walks you back as well.

Kevin, when you meet him in the garden, remarks that you seem more cheerful after a few weeks. “You look like you’re anticipating something exciting,” he clarifies when you only dignify him with a confused glance. His lips curl into a smirk. “Something about Chan?”

Kevin probably expects you to hit him or roll your eyes, maybe say something snappy in response. Instead, your face only drops as the meaning of his words hits you.

Do you feel something for Chan?

Well, you love to hear about his life. There are some really exciting stories he’s had after living so long. He’s also pleasant to hang around, and you enjoy talking to him.

It’s just curiosity, nothing romantic, you tell yourself. There’s no attraction. Just a slight friendship, maybe. Nothing more.

Nothing like what you felt for Jacob.

“Y/N – hey, Y/N!”

You blink to see Kevin staring at you in concern. “Are you all right? You zoned out for a minute.”

No, definitely nothing like Jacob. You try to smile at Kevin, pushing thoughts of blond hair and kind eyes out of your mind. That’s stupid – you would never let yourself be swayed so badly again. “I’m fine,” you say, hoping you’re telling the truth. “Let’s go get dinner, yeah?”

. . .

As the weeks pass, you begin to wonder just how much was truthful in what Kevin said.

Walks with Chan have become a regular occurrence, now. When he shows up at the shrine entrance every other afternoon, someone immediately calls for you.

And the worst thing is, you feel excited when you hear your name being called, when you’re with the children or scrubbing dishes or working in the garden. Everyone around gives you a knowing glance and maybe a teasing smile as you rush to see the forest guardian.

One part of you wants it. You want to be able to freely enjoy these walks, feeling the soft earth beneath your boots as you listen to Chan speak. The forest itself is interesting – he shows you the overgrown faerie ring, the water nymph’s pond and the accompanying willow tree – but you think his stories are even more intriguing. You like hearing Chan’s voice. You think you’d like to keep hearing it.

The other part of you doesn’t want this, though, doesn’t want the budding warmth that you feel with the forest guardian, even as the months begin to grow colder. It’s not that it doesn’t feel nice – in fact, this is precisely because it does feel nice. Too nice. You’re starting to feel a stirring in your heart that reminds you of how you felt for Jacob. Though it’s small, very small, it’s there – you can recognize it from the years of heartache you spent watching Jacob fall in love with someone else.

You don’t want that again with Chan.

It shames you to want to run away again, to run away from a place that has provided you with so much comfort in the months past. You love the children, truly, and the friends you’ve made are wonderful. You’ve even started giving Juyeon lessons with your sword. But what other course of action is there? There’s no reason a forest guardian with so many centuries of wisdom would fall for a young, naïve human like you. Here, a love story is even more impossible than one with Jacob.

The decision curdles in your stomach, fills your throat with bitter, hot shame, but it’s necessary, you tell yourself. Better to cut everything off right now, before your emotions grow out of control.

You’re not that important to the shrine, really. You’ve only been there a few months. They’ll survive without you.

You just can’t go through the pain you felt with Jacob ever again.

. . .

You debate avoiding Chan. If he were human, you might actually have chosen that path. But just like you couldn’t avoid Jacob when you fell in love – you were too close, he definitely would’ve noticed – you can’t avoid Chan. He’s the forest’s guardian – he’ll know you’re purposely trying not to be found.

So you decide to cut things off on one of your walks. It feels so simple in your mind – get away from the shrine, then tell him you’re leaving. He won’t care, you tell yourself. It won’t matter to him. And as much as the thought hurts, it’s the better option.

It should be easy, really. Chan gives you the perfect opening – “Why do you look so sad today?” he asks, stopping you by Hyunjin’s pond. The nymph himself doesn’t appear, which you’re very thankful for.

Well, no time like the present. You steel yourself. “I’m going to leave the shrine.”

Chan’s face switches expressions several times within seconds. You watch, feeling a sick sense of dread and relief pooling in your stomach. It’s out there. You’ve said it.

But spirits, why does he look so upset? So angry?

Like you mean something to him?

“Why?” he finally asks.

“Well,” you stammer, his unprecedented reaction sending all of the rehearsed words flying out of your mind, “I – I’ve overstayed my welcome, haven’t I? I’ve been here for months already, and I’ve used the shrine’s hospitality long enough.” His incredulous expression sparks indignation in your chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you realize how much you do for the shrine?” he snaps. His footsteps, usually so silent, pound on the earth as he steps up to you. “You think you’ve overstayed your welcome – do you know how much I – how much the shrine needs you now?”

How much I?

How much I need you?

How much Chan needs me?

Slip of the tongue. You shake your head, trying your best to ignore it. “All I do is help with the children, work with Kevin in the garden! Chan, I’m easily replaceable – I’m just a poor traveler who was fortunate enough to find the shrine! I’m lucky that you’ve all been so welcoming, but really, it’s time for me to move on.”

“And what about the children? Your friends?” He crosses his arms. “What about me?”

“They’ll live!” you snap. “And what do you mean, what about you?”

Chan growls under his breath. “Are you really trying to say that I mean nothing to you?”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut, like that time Jacob accidentally rammed you in the stomach with the pommel of a sword.

So… not a slip of the tongue.

“Why does it matter that you mean something to me when I don’t mean anything to you?” you finally say.

“And here I thought you were smart,” Chan snaps.

Anger flares in your chest. “I’m serious, Chan! Why would I ever think I meant something to you?” You gesture wildly at the expanse of trees surrounding you. “You’re a millennia-old guardian of a forest of magic. I’m a human who ended up here out of luck. Why, even if I ever felt anything for you, would you feel anything for me? What have I done to merit your attention?”

Chan’s eyes soften slightly. “So many things.”

Taken aback, you flail for words. “Elaborate.”

“You’re a sword-bearer. A kind sword-bearer. A sword-bearer Changbin trusts, enough to divulge his name and travel with for almost a year. A sword-bearer he believed was pure enough of heart to find the shrine – and don’t stop me there, if he hadn’t thought you would be able to find it, he wouldn’t have told you of its existence.” Chan stares at you with that same soft look, that soft look that pierces your heart and makes you feel guilty, so guilty, because you’re not as good, not as kind, not as pure as he thinks you are. “You carved your place in the shrine the first day you spent there. Without anyone asking, you took care of the children and helped Kevin in the garden. You did everything you could to give the children a bit of the love they never might’ve experienced otherwise and protected them from a threat you knew nothing of, something that could have torn you to pieces if you weren’t as trained as you were. You –”

“Stop.”

Chan looks at you, confused. “What –”

“I’m not – I’m not even near the brave person you’re describing,” you snap, tears starting to well in your eyes. “Stop talking about me like I’m some – some spirits-damned martyr, or something –”

“But –”

“And even if I was this, this noble and amazing person you think I am,” you interrupt, tears fighting to slip past your eyes, “how many other men and women at the shrine are the same? Kind, gentle, whatever you want to use to describe me? I’m not special, Chan. I’ve never been.”

Jacob didn’t think you were, at least.

“Y/N, why – just – did you not hear anything I just said about you?” Chan tries to take your hand, but you shy away, pretending the hurt in his eyes doesn’t send knives into your chest. “You earned the trust of a moon child haunted by those who carry blades in a matter of months. Those at the shrine took years to gain his full acceptance. You proved me wrong about sword-bearers. You showed me you were fearless, brave, kind – you are special, Y/N,” he insists, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’ve shown me that, shown me so much –”

“Stop.”

Your chest is heaving, the tears have spilled out, and you’re fighting for breath. It hurts, it hurts so much that Chan thinks this much of you, but all you are is a coward running away your feelings. “You don’t know,” you gasp, “you don’t know what kind of a person I am. I’m not what you see. How can you –” you angrily brush a tear away – “how can you not see that?”

“Then tell me,” Chan says. “Tell me why you’re so different. Convince me.”

You don’t want to. You don’t want to convince him, you want him to always have that beautiful image of you in his mind – a brave, gentle knight dedicated to protecting those who cannot defend themselves. But he deserves the truth.

And the truth is that you are a coward.

“I left my kingdom because I was in love with my best friend,” you spit. “He married the queen, and I couldn’t do anything but watch. I left because I couldn’t stand to see them so happy together, knowing I would only be on the sidelines of their love for the rest of my life. I left because I couldn’t bring myself to tell him how I felt, couldn’t bring myself to clear the air. I left because I wanted to run away instead of facing my problems, Chan! And even when I knew Jacob would always welcome me back with open arms, even during my darkest moments, I still chose to run away! I chose to find the shrine instead of letting my feelings go and reconciling with my friend. I chose to find the shrine and run away a second time because I couldn’t stand to face him again when I was the one who chose to leave.” A choked sob escapes your lips. “And now I’m running away again, because I thought you could never care for me in the way I’m beginning to care for you. Only you apparently do, but I can’t just stay here and let you love this perfect, noble character who doesn’t exist.”

Silence fills the air. Surely the birds are chirping, the leaves rustling, but you can’t hear anything over the pathetic sounds of you trying to control your tears.

“So now you know,” you croak. “You know the truth behind the coward this knight really is.”

You can’t even meet Chan’s eyes.

“You’re right,” Chan finally says. “For a knight, you’re an awful coward.”

His words stab you in the chest.

“Courage doesn’t constitute running away.”

You can feel the blood dripping out of your heart.

“It means facing your challenges head on, doing what you must.”

You clench your teeth, resolutely looking down at your feet. It’s the truth, you tell yourself. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. It’s the truth.

Then Chan’s trousers enter your vision. You stiffen, ready to back away, but Chan’s already tilting your chin up with one gentle finger so that you’re staring into his eyes. “But you’re brave, Y/N,” he murmurs. “You’re brave when it comes to protecting others, defending the innocent from those who would bring harm.” A small smile curves his lips. “You’re just not too good at protecting yourself.”

You burst into tears. And this time, when Chan presses you into his chest, letting you inhale his woodsy smell of fresh grass and sunlight, you don’t pull away.

. . .

“You don’t have to run away from attachment,” Chan tells you on the walk back to the shrine. “You don’t have to run away from familiarity, from caring about people. We care about you, truly. The children would be heartbroken if you left. So would Kevin and Juyeon and everyone else.” He gives you a gentle smile. “I would be, too.”

Keeping his words in mind, you put away your thoughts of leaving the shrine and try to open your eyes to how much people actually enjoy your presence. Some days, when the self-loathing rises and you don’t want to do anything but run away, it’s hard.

But Chan always finds you, if not the same day, then the day after. He takes you into the woods and tells stories until your sides ache from laughter and the sparkle – or so he tells you – is back in your eyes. With his slow, careful help, you begin to see the small, but visible effects you have on the shrine.

Eric’s and Chaeryeong’s eyes light up when you walk into the room. Sunwoo and Yuna fight for your attention. Juyeon’s calm face breaks into a smile when you show up for his daily swordplay practice, and Kevin laughs with abandon when you crack jokes in the garden. They’re small things, but you realize that leaving the shrine would’ve caused a lot more damage – to you and to them – that you didn’t realize before.

So you cement your place in the shrine, throwing yourself into the daily life of the place you’ve tentatively begun to think of as something deeper than a mere shelter. Juyeon’s interest in swordplay gives you the idea to begin training some of the girls and boys in defense. The priestesses agree after a little convincing – after all, you argue, even if the shrine isn’t threatened very often, dangers like the screech owl crop up every now and then. And if anyone decides to leave the shrine in the future and make their own life, defense could be a very useful skill.

Chan embraces your idea with more warmth than you’d imagine, given his aversion to sword-bearers. When you ask him about it, he just gives you that teasing smile that infuriates and calms you. “I trust you, don’t I?” His smile turns gentler. “You’re a good, brave sword-bearer. I think you’ll be able to keep your pupils from going… astray.”

You certainly do your best. Over several years of training, you watch Juyeon, Kevin, Yeji, and Lia grow into formidable opponents. Sunwoo takes more of an interest in archery after you fashion him a crude bow and arrow, practicing with the (kind of terrible) weapons until you buy him proper set in town.

Life goes on, and it goes well. Shrine life is peaceful as new residents enter – the newest resident, Haknyeon, is adorable – and you grow into yourself as the months go by. Chan never presses his feelings, only treats you the same way he always did until you’re ready to accept his care.

“Are you sure?” he asks when you tell him, eyes sparkling with hope and love and uncertainty all at once.

Your heart blossoms with love for the forest guardian. “Yes.” You smile. “I think I love myself enough to allow you to love me too.”

His lips taste like spring, like golden sunlight filtered through verdant leaves. Pressed against his chest, you feel safe, delicate in the touch of his fingers splayed gently across your back, strong in the warmth of his arms around your waist.

Oh, Chan makes you feel loved, loved in a way that slowly erases the self-loathing you’ve carried for so long, in a way that makes you feel brave enough to remain standing with each passing day. And even though you’ve still got a long way to go, you take comfort in the knowledge that Chan, your forest guardian, will always be there for you.

. . . . .

News doesn’t come often to the small village just outside the forest, so when there’s gossip that doesn’t pertain to the whereabouts about one villager or another, it’s worth listening to. This time, it’s a kingdom at war with another.

“Which kingdoms?” you ask idly, examining an apple.

“One is Adment,” the shopkeeper replies. You snort, a sentiment he laughs with. “Which was the other, honey?” he yells to his wife in the back of the stall.

“Was it Callia?” she yells back.

You don’t laugh when the apple drops from your hand.

Trying not to visibly show your distress, you wave off the shopkeeper’s worry at your expression and hurry to finish the shopping. To your luck, when you make it back to the shrine, Chan is already there, conversing with one of the priestesses.

“Y/N!” His smile drops slightly when he takes in your expression. The priestess quietly excuses herself. “Did something happen?”

“Callia – Callia is at war with Adment.” You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “Jacob’s kingdom. At war with the one that killed Changbin’s love.”

Chan’s face turns hard. “I see.”

“I – I feel like I need to do something.” You gaze at him, begging him to understand everything you can’t put into words. “Chan, I feel like I have to go back and help, somehow.”

Chan’s eyes are gentle but unreadable as he grasps your hand firmly in his. “You should do what you think is right,” he says quietly.

What I think is right.

What I think is right.

What do I think is right?

Your mind races with panic, but one thought emerges, crystal clear in certainty.

“Yes,” you whisper, more to yourself than Chan. “I’ll do what is right.”

. . .

The priestesses give you their blessing to return to the kingdom you used to call home. Juyeon, Kevin, Lia, and Sunwoo volunteer to come with you as well, even though you try to dissuade them repeatedly with how dangerous it’ll be. They could die, you stress – this is war, after all. But they insist.

You put off saying goodbye to Chan until the day before you leave. He’s the one who finds you, actually – he has something to say, apparently, before you go.

It feels so strange, walking with Chan through the forest with the knowledge that you may never come back. It’s not like you’re a stranger to the evils of war – every time you rode into battle as a knight, you knew there was a high likelihood that you would die.

But it’s different, now. Jacob and your fellow Guards knew the risks of war – you were all seasoned fighters, trained in tactics and stealth and strategy. Here, you only have a very small group of fighters – reasonably good for the amount of training they’ve had, but lacking in true experience. They won’t understand the true horror of battle until they’ve experienced it themselves.

There’s something else, too. You’re leaving behind someone you love for the first time, someone who cannot come and fight by your side.

“Can I go first?” you ask, stopping by Hyunjin’s pond. You want to see the still waters one more time before you leave.

Chan nods. “Of course.”

“I…” You look down, mustering your courage. “I wanted to tell you that I love you.”

For a moment, there’s just silence. Then a sudden flush spreads across Chan’s cheeks.

It bolsters your confidence. “I know I don’t say it often,” you continue, enjoying the shyness on your guardian’s face, “but I really do. I wanted you to know that I’m not going off to help Jacob’s kingdom because I love him the way I used to, but because I still care about him as a friend.” You gaze into Chan’s clear eyes. “I love you very much, and I wanted to tell you that before I left.”

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I never thought you were going to war out of romantic love for Jacob,” he says quietly. “You don’t need to worry about that, ever. I trust you.”

Your heart explodes with warmth. “So what is it that you had to tell me?”

“I never told you how forest guardians are chosen, did I?” Chan asks.

You shake your head. “No.”

“Well, sit down, and I’ll tell you now.” He smiles. “It’s a long story.”

Chan tells you of his first life as an oread, a mountain spirit settled in the craggy cliffs not too far from the forest. He tells you of the last guardian before him, a teasing fae named Jaebum.

“A fae?” you interrupt. “Isn’t that… not a good idea?” As lovely as Han and his lady are – you’ve met them several times by now – you wouldn’t exactly call him a suitable guardian. You’d say the same and more for his more sinister counterparts.

“Jaebum was different,” Chan says. “He cared deeply for the forest. After the two centuries I knew him, he found someone to love, to grow old with over time. He asked me to be forest guardian after he died.”

“So the current forest guardian chooses the next when they feel their time is over?” you clarify.

Chan nods, gazing into your eyes. “Yes.”

And all of a sudden, you understand.

“Chan, you –” You have to clear away the emotion rising in your throat. “You want to pass on the guardianship for me? To whom?”

“I’ve spoken to Changbin.” Chan smiles. “He was very receptive to the idea.”

“But – Chan, for me?” The old uncertainty starts to plague your mind. “Chan, I’m just… I’m just me.”

“Exactly.” Chan takes your hands in his. “You’re you. And I want to grow old with you. Live life with you. Don’t try to argue with me – this is something I know I want.”

You can’t even speak through the tears running down your face. “Chan –”

“Come here.” He wraps you in his warm arms. “I love you, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

For how long you stay there, crying into Chan’s embrace, you don’t know. By the time you’re coherent enough to pull back, it feels like it’s been an eternity.

“So now you have to come back.” Chan smiles, though you can see a glimmer of fear, of uncertainty in his gaze. “You have to stay safe and come back for me, all right?”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin suddenly appears from the pond and you literally shriek, toppling backwards onto the grass. “You have to come back to Chan, or he’ll mope around for millennia and send the forest into ruin.” The nymph smirks, though you can see real concern hidden in his eyes.

“Like you moped for centuries over your cloud nymph?” Chan retorts, lips curved in an exasperated smile.

Hyunjin sniffs. “Details,” he says haughtily, already sinking back into his pool. He sends you a glance, though, that’s full of meaning.

You must come back. Don’t leave Chan waiting.

You make a silent promise that you won’t.

. . .

The next day, your cohort wakes up early. After yawning through a quick breakfast, you quickly gather your belongings and meet up at the front of the shrine. Several of the priestesses cluck over you like mother hens checking on their chicks, and you dutifully take their warnings and cautions with as light a smile as you can muster.

Chan shows up just as you’re about to go. The others thankfully leave you two alone for a bit (though you scowl at Kevin’s smirk and Lia’s whistle).

You don’t talk much, just stay wrapped in each other’s arms for several minutes. Eventually, though, dawn breaks. It’s time to leave.

“Be brave,” Chan whispers as you pull away.

You smile. “I’ll come back.”

With one last kiss that tastes of spring greenery, you leave the shrine. When you look back, Chan’s already disappeared.

. . .

It’s a long two years spent away from the shrine. The pace is difficult on your friends, who have only known the shrine as a home for so many years. For you, it’s a bit easier – you’ve been a traveler for a good few years, and it doesn’t take too long to settle back into the wanderer’s mindset, moving around, never staying in one place too long.

But they don’t complain. They’re strong, resilient, and resourceful – more so, really, than some of the knights you knew on the Guard. With their help, you launch quiet strikes at the border of Adment and Callia, taking down Adment’s forces small legion by small legion. Your group becomes known for your silent ambushes, though you take care to keep your identities hidden.

It’s like being a knight again on a smaller scale – planning attacks and carrying them out, knowing that you might lose your life or your friends along the way. It isn’t entirely unwelcome. Fighting still gives you that adrenaline rush, that grim, satisfying knowledge that you’re doing something to protect the people you love.

At the same time, though, it isn’t as fulfilling as it used to be. This life of fighting battles isn’t for you anymore. Yes, you will fight to defend, but you’ve found other ways to protect your loved ones, too.

It just cements the fact that you don’t think you’ll ever come back to Callia to stay.

Finally, Adment surrenders. You’re glad, truly – you’re ready to return to the shrine, as are your friends. As you begin the trek back through some of the rural villages, though, a few posters catch your eye. They spell out a request for the unknown border attackers to come forth to the palace and be honored for their aid in the war.

They know your story, Lia, Juyeon, Kevin, Sunwoo. It was only fair that you told them – how could you lead them to possible death without knowing why you came in the first place, why this was so important to you?

So you ask them. “Do you want to reveal yourselves?”

“I don’t think it’s a question of us,” Juyeon says quietly. “It’s about you.”

“Yes,” Lia echoes. “We’ll follow you, whatever you decide.”

Their trust still astounds you, even after so many years spent trying to dilute the self-loathing that used to plague your brain. “Give me a day to think,” you eventually say. “If you say you’ll follow me, I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

You stay up all night, debating. Your friends have already spent so long away from their home, fighting a war on your behalf. Is it worth it to take the extra few weeks spent traveling to and from the palace? Would it be fair to ask them to journey with you for even longer?

No, Y/N. You shake your head. They asked you to decide, which means they want a decision based on your feelings, on your desires. They’re kind enough to know that this must be your choice to make.

You sigh, leaning back against a sturdy tree. Why are you so hesitant about seeing Jacob again, anyway? You don’t love him anymore, not the way you used to. It doesn’t hurt you as much to think of him. Spirits, you even came all this way to help him in a war you weren’t even involved in.

Maybe you’re afraid that you’ll fall in love with him again, a tiny voice in your head suggests. Maybe you’re afraid that you’ll want to stay.

Oh.

That’s probably it.

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you sigh again. You love Chan. You love the shrine. You’ve realized that fighting battles as a knight isn’t the way you want to spend the rest of your life. But you’re still afraid that seeing Jacob again will awaken feelings for him once more.

Wait. You sit up, frowning into the darkness. For your feelings to awaken, they would still have to exist.

You don’t love Jacob anymore. The thought of him doesn’t make your heart thump anymore, doesn’t choke your throat with emotions anymore.

Logically, rationally, seeing him again wouldn’t hurt the way it used to.

But love isn’t rational, the oh-so-helpful part of your mind pipes up.

You scowl. Stop making this decision harder.

As the fire dies to glowing coals, as your friends quietly snore throughout the night (except Sunwoo, he snores very loudly), you sit there, mind warring with fear.

By morning, you’ve made your decision.

. . .

The palace is almost the same as you remembered – high, polished stone walls surrounded by a bustling marketplace and lush gardens. The grass looks a bit wilted and the market chatter sounds subdued, but the kingdom has just gone through a war. You would be more worried, really, if everything looked exactly as beautiful as it used to be.

Anxiety bursts in your chest as you slip through the crowds, face covered in a scarf, getting closer and closer to the palace. Three of the Guard stand sentinel at front gates, and even though you’re too far away to see their faces, you’re sure you’d recognize at least a couple of them up close.

“Breathe,” Kevin whispers helpfully next to you. “You’ll be fine.”

You nod shakily. “Yeah.”

Two of the Guard cross their spears over the gates as you approach. The third steps forward, meeting your gaze.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of an old friend. Changmin!

“State your business,” Changmin says, eyes unmoved. It stings a little that he doesn’t recognize you, but it’s understandable. You’ve both changed over the years – you’ve grown out your hair, while he’s cut his shorter, and he’s lost the last baby fat from his cheeks – and you have a scarf covering half of your face.

“I have business with the king,” you reply, heart hammering in your chest. “I believe my presence was specifically requested, along with that of my friends from the border.”

Faint recognition lights Changmin’s eyes, though they also narrow in slight confusion. He looks at you for a second, gaze piercing yours.

“Is something wrong?” you ask. “We can leave our weapons at the gates, if you wish.”

Changmin shakes his head, shoulders slumped in resignation. “No, I just thought you sounded like someone I once knew.” He looks down. “She had a sword like yours, too.”

Your heart hammers at your old friend’s words. What would he say if he did know it was you?

His voice cuts through your panicked thoughts. “May I have a name by which to introduce you to His Majesty?”

Last chance, you tell yourself. Last chance to turn back.

You won’t lie – the choice sounds appealing, at least to your pounding heart. Glancing up at the high stone walls, you feel the old urge to run away.

You could. You could turn away from the gates right now, leave Changmin remembering someone who will never return. You could travel back to the shrine and forget this ever happened.

But Chan told you to be brave. And being brave doesn’t only apply to war.

You pull down your scarf, smiling at the incredulous expression spreading over Changmin’s face. “You can tell him an old friend’s come back to visit.”

. . .

After yelling at you for never visiting and punching you at least ten times (your arm is so, so sore, but as he reminds you, you should just be glad he didn’t challenge you to a duel right then and there), Changmin brings you into one of the waiting rooms. “I’ll find you and bite you if I come back and see that you’ve disappeared again,” he threatens before heading back into the halls.

Sunwoo raises an eyebrow, looking mildly disturbed. “Bite you?”

You snort, smiling widely. “Long story.”

Too soon, though, there’s another set of footsteps echoing outside of the room. The smile slowly starts to slip off your face, and your heart, previously calmed by Changmin’s characteristic welcome, starts to pound again.

Be brave. Chan’s voice speaks in your mind. Be brave.

You steel yourself.

Then Jacob appears in the doorway, and the room feels like it’s falling away.

. . .

By the time your mind has caught up to the present, you’re wrapped in Jacob’s strong arms, in one of those Jacob hugs that you used to yearn for every day. It’s comforting, warm, but to your pleasant surprise, there’s no hurt. No pain.

You only feel happy.

“You came back,” Jacob whispers, more to himself than to you. “You came back.”

You just laugh, squeezing your best friend harder. “I did.”

Thankfully, your friends understand that you need some time with Jacob alone. Changmin leads them out, already bickering with Sunwoo (how they became friends so quickly, you’re not sure you want to know). In the silence of the room, you and Jacob just stare at each other for a moment.

“I –”

“What –”

You burst into laughter and Jacob joins in, feeling heady with absolute bliss and relief that your worst fears haven’t been realized. You haven’t fallen back in love with Jacob at first sight. His mere presence doesn’t make you want to stay.

“You first,” Jacob finally says when you’ve calmed down. “You first.”

The laughter disappears from your throat as your smile dims. “I never told you the full reason why I left.”

Jacob is a good listener, a fact that you’re grateful for. If he’d interrupted you at any point, you aren’t sure you would’ve been able to continue. Still, though, it’s harrowing, recounting the love you felt for your best friend for so long.

“When I left the first time, I didn’t have any intention of returning.” You state the harsh truth with a bitter taste in your mouth. “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about what I felt, so seeing you only hurt. I didn’t… I didn’t want to feel any more pain.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Jacob’s eyes are cloudy, filled with pain on your behalf. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known…”

“Stop.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “One reason I didn’t tell you was because I knew you’d blame yourself. It isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

Jacob sits in silence for a moment. “But you did come back.”

“I did.” A small smile curves your lips. “I found a place that took me in, allowed me to try and find myself once more. I found someone who helped me heal. So when I heard about the war, I didn’t have qualms about coming to help. It was something… I knew it was something I had to do.”

Jacob’s eyes clear. “I see. Your someone, your, um…”

“Husband,” you offer. It’s the closest thing to what Chan is to you that Jacob would understand.

He nods. “Your husband didn’t come?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I came with friends. We have our own things to protect, back at home.”

Home. That word surprises you as it leaves your lips. Home.

The forest, the shrine is your home.

It’s the first time you’ve made this connection. With the realization, a sudden burst of warmth fills your chest.

“I see.” Jacob leans forward, looking genuinely happy for you. “Things are going well, then?”

Briefly, you wonder if you should tell him about the shrine. You decide not to. That’s your secret to keep, at least for now.

“Yes, they are.” A smile involuntarily spreads across your face. “Very well.”

For a moment, the two of you just sit in comfortable silence. Then Jacob speaks. “Can I persuade you again to stay?” he asks, though from the look in his eye, you’re pretty sure he already knows your answer. “You can bring your husband and friends. There will always be a place for you here.”

It feels like you’re being thrown back in time to that day in the training room, just a few months before you left. Your answer is still the same as it was then, so many years ago.

But you have something else to add.

You shake your head. “Not this time, Jacob.” Your smile grows smaller, but softer. “Though I do promise I’ll visit you again.”

. . .

On the horses Jacob gifted you, it only takes a few weeks to return to the forest. You see the children and the priestesses first, waiting at the front of the shrine, followed by the other maidens and messenger boys. Their shouts of welcome bring a smile to your face.

Then Chan appears when you’re riding up to the gates, crushing you in a hug almost before you’ve leapt off your horse.

You lose yourself in your guardian’s warmth, in the strength of his arms wrapped around your body. It feels so similar to Jacob’s hugs, so comforting and soft and strong, but also so uniquely Chan. You laugh into his chest, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“I’m back,” you gasp between the tears. “I’m back, Chan.”

“I know,” he whispers, only holding you closer. “I know.”

A blissful eternity passes, wrapped in Chan’s arms, until he pulls back the slightest bit, just enough to press a long-awaited kiss on your lips. “You’re back,” he says one more time, as though he still can’t quite believe it.

“I am,” you confirm. “I did it, Chan.”

He knows. He knows, looking into your eyes, what you mean by “it.” He knows you don’t just mean that you fought Adment, that you came home alive. He knows there’s something more.

Something involving a certain past love.

Warm, warm pride blooms in Chan’s eyes. “Were you brave?”

Memories race through your mind – staunching bloody wounds, trekking through the forests at the border – but you know that isn’t what Chan means. He knows you can be brave in the midst of battle, brave in protecting those you love the most.

He wants to know if you were brave with him.

Your eyes twinkle as you remember the palace gates, seeing Changmin again, landing in Jacob’s arms once more. You remember his soft voice, his kind eyes full of real, platonic care, a memory you’ll treasure for years to come.

Where you once might have grimaced at the thought of your old home, now, the smile on your face only broadens with every passing second.

“Yes.” Your laughing gaze sparkles into Chan’s proud eyes. “I was.”