#and he does admit this himself in saying he eventually started making stipulations to return

[badnewswhatsleft]

Sorry to be stupid but which band did Joe almost get "sold" to?? (I was thinking about it for so long and couldn't figure it out)

omg LOL no anon you're not stupid i will freely admit that 1. it was not a very good joke on my part and 2. i was coming at it from a weird angle anyway😭 i was mostly thinking convolutedly ab like. joe in relation to 2010 the damned things :')

[spencers-renaissance]

A Christmas Like This

Summary: Spencer has a very specific plan for their first Christmas in their new house, and it has to be absolutely perfect. Derek's going to do everything in his power to make his boyfriend as happy as possible, even if that means a house covered in garlands and a tree covered in animal skeletons...

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, christmas fic, est relationship, snow, slow dancing, bathing together, sharing clothes, cuddling, neurodivergence, so much romance

Pairing: Derek x Spencer

Word Count: 2.9k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Spencer’s been impatiently counting down the days, much to Derek’s amusement, but the day is finally here: they’re decorating their house for Christmas. It feels particularly special this year because it’s their first year in the house Derek had painstakingly renovated and then surprised him with one random evening, and Spencer’s spent weeks thinking about how to make it just right, because it needs to be absolutely perfect and he simply won’t settle for anything less.

Which is how he finds himself anxiously pacing the living room, waiting for his boyfriend to return. He’d popped out earlier in the afternoon to pick up some last minute decorations at Spencer’s behest, but a flurry of snow had started to fall since, and Derek was taking a bit too long for his liking. He worries his lip as he tries to remember how wrapped up his boyfriend was and why on earth he walked into town and didn’t take the car. 

Eventually, though, he’s appeased as Derek bursts through the front door, bringing a gust of wind and a small dusting of snow in with him. “Didn’t quite expect that,” he chuckles as Spencer rushes to greet him and help him out of his soaked through coat. “Got the decorations you wanted, though.”

Spencer grins at his jovial attitude and leans up to plant a firm kiss on his lips. “That’s because you’re amazing,” he murmurs, pulling away only marginally before kissing him again. 

“Baby if that’s the greeting I get when I bring you goodies, I’m gonna spoil you rotten,” Derek says amusedly as he runs his cold hands up the sides of Spencer’s jumper, smiling at him fondly. 

“You already do,” he protests, pulling away from his hold and snatching the bag Derek’s holding to eagerly peer inside. “This is going to look incredible.” He looks back at Derek with excitement lighting up his eyes and he’s rewarded with a gentle kiss on the nose. 

“You are too damn adorable, you know that?”

“So you tell me,” Spencer says, his turn to look amused for a moment before snapping into action. “Right, we should get started!”

“Whoa, I hate to burst your bubble, pretty boy, but I’m soaked to the skin,” Derek says, following Spencer into the kitchen as he watches him empty all the bags and survey the decorations with analytical eyes. “I’m gonna take a bath first. Care to join me?” 

Spencer’s head snaps up at that. “What if it stops snowing while we’re in the bath?”

Derek shoots him a puzzled look. “Why… would that matter?”

“It’s perfect weather to put up the Christmas decorations while it’s snowing!” Spencer says, like it’s obvious. 

“Well,” Derek says diplomatically, “then the snow will have settled and you’ll actually be able to see the picturesque scenery without having to peer through a white haze.” It’s a pretty good answer. He’s got much better at it in the seven years they’ve been together.

Spencer pauses to think it over carefully. “You’re right,” he decides eventually, setting down the garland he was expecting and walking over to Derek. “You make us some hot chocolate and I’ll set it up.” He kisses him again before running up the stairs to the bathroom, making it as cosy as possible with candles and bath salts and bubbles. 

Derek’s only a few minutes behind him and the bath is almost full by the time he gets there, Spencer’s sitting submerged in the water as he concentrates on the taps, diligently adjusting the temperature every thirty seconds or so to get it just right. “Sorry to interrupt your tap watching,” he says, smile evident in his voice evn to Spencer as he refuses to look away from the flow of water.

He sets the hot chocolates down on the edge of the bathtub and strips off quickly, feeling the sweet relief at having the cold, damp clothing finally off his body. “Scooch up,” he tells Spencer, intending to squeeze in behind him. If nothing else, it finally manages to snatch his boyfriend’s attention from the taps. 

“No, Derek, I’m too big,” Spencer whines, as he always does when they bathe together. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart,” Derek says, as he always replies to his boyfriend’s ridiculous argument. “We always manage to fit. Come on.” He finally gets Spencer to slide forwards a little, turning the water off at the same time, and he slides into the bath behind him. It takes them a few moments to get properly comfortable and Spencer almost elbows both mugs off the side of the bath at one point, but they finally settle into one another. 

Derek’s chest is cool against Spencer’s back but his skin soon warms as the contact with Spencer’s flush body and the hot water make themselves at home, nestling against him. “This is just what I needed,” Derek sighs as he sips his hot chocolate and settles further into the bath. “My baby in the bath with me and a nice warm drink.” 

Spencer blushes, as he always does. Not even seven years of relentless flirting and nicknames could drive out his instinctive reaction to praise, but he also knows Derek likes it. It’s funny to think how much they’ve changed over the last few years, how when they got together back on a case in Michigan in 2009, they would be here in their own house in 2016. Spencer’s filled out and isn’t the skinny little thing Derek fell in love with anymore, not that either of them mind, and Derek -- hardened from the many years of being in the FBI -- had told Spencer his plans to retire a few months ago. 

Everything around them has continued to mutate, their circumstances, surroundings, physical appearances, but they still love each other just as much as they have done for all these years. Relentlessly, consistently, unfailingly. 

Spencer heads straight for Derek’s drawers as soon as they get out of the bath, dressing himself in one of the warmest hoodies he can find. “What if I wanted to wear that?” Derek teases as he grabs a sweatshirt for himself. 

“Oh, please,” Spencer scoffs. “You’re not fooling anyone, Derek, I know you love seeing me in your clothes. You’d rather me wear it than you”

Derek grins widely, pulling the sweater over his head before wrapping Spencer in a close hug, softening when he feels him nestle his face into his neck. “You got me, I do love seeing my gorgeous boy in my clothes,” Derek admits, “but who could blame me?”

Spencer leans back slightly, still pressed against Derek and kisses him softly. “I love you,” he murmurs, and it’s almost shy in its naked vulnerability. 

“I love you more,” Derek insists, kissing him again and giving him one last squeeze before putting some space between them. “But I believe we have a house to decorate Dr Reid?” 

Spencer’s face lights up at that, and he hurries to pull on some PJ bottoms and a pair of odd socks on before grabbing Derek’s hand and pulling him downstairs. “I wrote it down because I need you to adhere to these very strict instructions,” Spencer says seriously, despite Derek’s small amused smile.

“Yes sir,” he says as he takes the paper, but he corrects himself at Spencer’s stern look. “I will follow it to the letter, baby, don’t worry.” Conceding is definitely worth the bright smile he gets in return. 

Spencer plays his specially curated Christmas playlist over the house speaker system as they get to work pinning the garlands and fairy lights and decorations handsewn by Penelope in their designated spots according to Spencer’s plan. Derek thinks it rather looks like Christmas has vomited over their house by the time they head to the tree, but his boyfriend looks so pleased with himself, and for the past seven years his own joy has followed one simple law: if Spencer’s happy, he’s happy. 

There’s just one tiny problem with that stipulation: he’s not sure he can quite stomach the ornaments Spencer’s chosen for the tree. “Spencer, baby, you know I love you,” he says slowly as he watches his boyfriend carefully unbox the decorations, “but we are not putting those on the tree.”

He’s somehow managed to find ornaments in the shape of animal skeletons, and he wants to decorate their Christmas tree with them. Derek feels a little lost. 

“But they’re anatomically correct animal skeletons ranging from a cricket’s exoskeleton to the bones of a horse,” Spencer protests, as if that will change Derek’s mind. 

“Exactly,” he replies. “The whole house is beautifully decorated with garlands and lights and colours and wreaths and you want to hang skeletons on the tree? The most important part of the Christmas decoration process?” 

“Yes,” Spencer says slowly, “I want to hang skeletons on the tree because it’s the most important part of the Christmas decoration process.”

Derek takes a deep breath in. “Okay, how about we put some fairy lights and tinsel on, hang some normal baubles and then you can put some of your skeletons on there, too?” It’s a compromise. He’s not exactly thrilled with the idea of staring at bones on his Christmas tree, but at least there’s a little bit of tradition mixed in there, too. 

Spencer’s a lot less uncompromising than he used to be, so after a few seconds and a sigh he coalesces. “Alright,” he agrees, “but I get to hang at least eight skeletons. Deal?” 

“Deal,” Derek sighs, smiling slightly at the absurdity of his boyfriend. God, he’s in love. 

With the Christmas tree hosting a small archeology exhibit among its branches and the house satisfactorily ready for the holidays, they head to the kitchen to make some dinner, both hungry from a busy day of hanging wreaths and plugging in fairy lights. And getting caught in a minor snowstorm, of course. Derek heads straight to the speaker and plugs his phone in, setting it to play Frank Sinatra’s Christmas album, needing a change of pace from the instrumental playlist they’ve been listening to all day. Spencer doesn’t complain though, he just smiles warmly at Derek, kissing him chastely before heading to the fridge to pull out the ingredients needed for a festive chicken dinner. 

“We’re making roast potatoes, right?” Derek checks as he pours them both a glass of wine, listening to the sultry voice of Frank Sinatra accompanied by Spencer’s disorganised rummage through the vegetable drawer. 

“Yep,” Spencer affirms with his head inside the fridge, eventually emerging with an armful of vegetable and meat, dumping them unceremoniously on the countertop before continuing his search through the kitchen cabinets. They’d moved into the house properly nearly five months ago, but they still haven’t figured out the best way to store food, and Derek was infamous for shoving the grocery shopping in the first cabinet he sees, leading to a rather disorganised system. 

He soon finds the right spices and cupboard ingredients for the traybake they’d made countless times before. Derek hands him the glass of wine as soon as he comes to stand next to him again, cradling his cheek with his hand, stroking his thumb over the ruddy flush on Spencer’s cheek. “I love you,” he says gently, looking deep into the warm honey of his eyes and leaning in for a soft kiss. 

Spencer’s blushing even more by the time he pulls back, and Derek can’t help but smile at the bashful nature of his boyfriend even after all these years. “I love you more,” Spencer promises, hand running gently down Derek’s muscled arm, appreciating the soft touch of the sweatshirt he’d pulled on earlier. 

“Not possible,” Derek grins, punctuating his words with another kiss to Spencer’s lips.

“Stop,” Spencer protests, wiggling out of his hold and turning to the food. “Stop being sappy. We have dinner to make.”

“Very important business,” Derek agrees, but acts the perfect sous chef as Spencer takes care of the vegetables and trimmings and puts him in charge of the chicken. They work quickly and the traybake is in the oven before they know it, leaving them sipping their wine as they lean against the counter, chatting idly. 

That is, until I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm starts playing, bright music filling the kitchen as Derek sets his wine glass down, taking Spencer’s from his hand and setting it next to his before he takes his hand and pulls him into the middle of the kitchen.

“What are you doing, Derek?” Spencer giggles as Derek pulls him close and twirls him around the kitchen. 

“Shh. We’re dancing,” he whispers, smiling fondly at Spencer’s unabashed happiness. He told himself at the very beginning of their relationship that this was all he really needed to achieve in life; making Spencer happy would forever be enough for him. 

Off with my overcoat, off with my glove

Who needs an overcoat? I'm burning with love

Derek dips Spencer down, making him throw his head back in laughter. He holds him there for a second before lifting him back up and kissing him quickly before returning to a comfortable swaying movement, keeping them in time with the uptempo music. He sings along quietly as they look deep into one another’s eyes, continuing to dance around the dimly lit, decked out kitchen. 

What do I care how much it may storm?

I’ve got my love to keep me warm

As soon as they pause their dance, Spencer leans in and kisses him, hand moving from his shoulder to the side of his neck as he holds him closer. Derek kisses back just as eagerly as the music switches to the next song, deepening the kiss as he holds Spencer’s waist, caressing his sides gently, savouring the weight of his favourite person pressed up against him in the warmth of the kitchen. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am in this exact moment,” Spencer whispers earnestly as they pull away.

“Not even when I took you to Bali?” Derek teases, smiling fondly at the joy in his boyfriend’s eyes. 

“Shut up,” Spencer admonishes, but he’s smiling too when he leans back in for another kiss. 

They eat their dinner together on the sofa. The Christmas lights are twinkling on the tree in the corner of the living room and the decorations Penelope had gifted them brighten the whole room; Derek has to admit that despite the animal skeletons, the house looks beautiful. He’s not sure he could possibly feel more cosy than he is right now, tucking into a delicious traybake, cuddled up next to Spencer while Love Actually plays on the TV. 

As soon as their plates are cleared, Spencer predictably cuddles even closer, folding his body into the contours of Derek’s as they watch the intertwining stories of the film. It’s not long before they’re both tearing up at the emotional narrative, sharing a box of tissues between them. Usually it’s Derek who cries at the films they watch, but this particular one seems to be getting to Spencer more than normal: the love between Sarah and her mentally ill brother, Michael, has Spencer stifling sobs as he thinks about his mother. 

“Come here, baby,” Derek whispers, fairly tearful himself. He gently guides Spencer to lay down on the sofa with his head in Derek’s lap, and he cards his fingers through the curls he loves so much as they watch the rest of the film play out. 

As the credits start to roll, Spencer sits up properly, leaning his head against Derek’s shoulder. “That was a bit intense,” he chuckles.

“Have you seen it before?” 

“No, Penelope just recommended it to me,” Spencer replies, sniffling again.

“I can’t count the amount of times she’s forced me to sit through it,” Derek laughs. “I cry every time, to be honest.”

Spencer doesn’t reply, he just takes one of Derek’s hands sitting in his lap and fiddles gently with his fingers, tracing the outline, the veins, the contour. It’s a comforting little motion for both of them, a point of connection, something to focus on, shrinking the world that sometimes feels so big down to just two hands, one tracing the other. 

“Come on, baby,” Derek says after a few minutes, “let’s get up to bed.”

“I’m not tired yet,” he protests quietly, snuggling further into Derek’s side.

“Well you can read in bed,” Derek points out. “But I want to sleep. I’m not the young man I once was, you know.”

Spencer cranes his head up to meet Derek’s eyes. “You’re even sexier now,” Spencer says, and it’s so random that Derek can’t help the bark of laughter it elicits. 

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” he grins. 

“You didn’t call me baby,” Spencer pouts, rotating his body so he’s straddling Derek’s lap.

“I’m very sorry,” Derek says mock-sincerely, lifting a hand to brush a stray curl from Spencer’s forehead. “How can I make it up to you?”

“A letter of apology to management,” Spencer suggests.  

“Management being you, I’m guessing?” Derek smiles as he hums in affirmation. “Come on you, let’s head up to bed.”

Spencer grumbles the whole way about old men and going to sleep before 11pm, but it only serves to make Derek smile fondly, kissing him to shut him up as soon as they walk into the bedroom. They’re soon tucked up in bed, Christmas candles burning as fairy lights glow along their journey around the coving. Spencer starts on his new book, lit up dimly by the cosy lighting of the room,  while Derek settles down to sleep.

He can’t believe he has a Christmas like this to look forward to for the rest of his life.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez @fuckshitupm8-deactivated3728 

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Favors of Fiery Wits - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Ra’s al Ghul, Maya Ducard, Kathy Branden Pairings: robinpile, MayaKathy Summary: Despite all warnings and threats, Ra’s cashed the favor they all hoped he wouldn’t. A/N: This was never meant to be a series, but then it was and now it’s over. Damian is roughly 30 here, Tim around 40. Dick and Jason are obviously both older by various amounts. I don’t mention it but the older two are probably starting to gray a little bit. They don’t bang at the end, but just cuddle until like noon and then get delivery for every single meal after that. Let’s pretend it was a Saturday or something and they’re all lazy losers. Kid’s name is bad but I’m bad at character naming haha. I made a joke about Dick’s butt and I’m so sorry. Thanks for reading this garbage of a series! :)

All For One, One For All

~~

It was Jason who heard the phone buzzing on the nightstand. One of four, and he waited a minute to listen to the pattern, before lazily calling:

“Damian.”

He blindly slapped around for the phone until he felt his fingers wrap around it, then picked it up and flopped over, holding it in the air over the three lying next to him.

(Tim huffed when Jason’s elbow accidentally hit him in the face.)

A second later the phone was taken, the bed shifted, and Damian quietly mumbled, “This is Damian.”

Jason curled into Tim’s side, trying to drift back off even as he heard the mumbled voice on the line. But without warning, the bed jolted, and he opened his eyes to see Damian, only a shadow in the midnight darkness, sitting straight up.

The voice on the line mumbled for another few seconds. Then there was silence. But when Damian spoke again, it was soft, but wide awake.

“I’m on my way.”

Jason tried to blink away his sleep as Damian stood up. Dick, whom he’d been wrapped around, moaned at the loss, but curled into Tim’s other side to maintain his warmth, probably assuming Damian would be back in a few moments.

But judging by the fact that his first stop was the dresser, where he pulled out multiple sets of clothing, then disappeared into the closet and came back with a duffle bag, Jason doubted that would be the case.

“Dames?” He whispered. He saw Damian stiffen. “Where’s the fire?”

“It’s nothing, Todd.” Damian returned as gently as he could. “Go back to sleep.”

“Where are you going?”

“…Nowhere of importance.” Damian offered. “Go back to sleep, Jason. I’ll…be back in a few days.”

“That sounded less than confident.”

But before Damian could answer, Dick asked sleepily, “Who was on the phone?”

Damian didn’t even offer an excuse.

“Damian?” Dick tried. Tim shifted between them, trying to push up onto his elbow. “Who was on the phone?”

Jason’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, and he could see that Damian had turned away from them, refused to look in their direction. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand: 3:41am.

“Damian?” Dick asked again, almost in a whine. He clearly wanted to go back to sleep. Wanted Damian to return to his side. “Who called you? Was it Bruce? Does he ne-”

“It was Ra’s.”

Tim became rigid under Jason’s hands, and Dick jerked up just as fast as Damian originally had.

“No.” Dick growled. “You’re not going.”

“I have to.” Damian pushed back, resuming his haphazard packing. “You know that.”

“You don’t.” Dick shook his head.

“Oh, so you want him to come collect Drake instead?” Damian spit, already stressed and frustrated. “Just let me go take care of this. I’m not asking you to come with me. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. Now go back to sleep, all of you. It shouldn’t take me more than a few days. When I return, we can celebrate finally being free of that twat of an old man.”

Dick shook his head again in anger, clearly biting his tongue. He glanced back at Tim and Jason. “…What’d he ask you to do?”

“He didn’t say. Just said he was redeeming his favor and to arrive in his company posthaste.” Damian explained, throwing his clothes in the bag. “So the sooner I get this done, the sooner I’ll be home.”

“Yeah, pass on that shit.” Dick hissed, throwing the covers off himself and standing. He stomped over to Damian and took hold of his elbows. The two stared at each other in the dark, Dick’s face stern, Damian’s guilty, silently conversing. Eventually, Damian sighed and looked away, and Dick gathered him up in his arms.

“Damian’s going to finish packing, and I’m going to go get the jet and gear ready to go.” Dick called over to the bed. “Jason, I’ll trust Tim to you, along with any other previsions we may need.”

Jason nodded as Dick released Damian and quickly left the room. Then, after a second of hesitation, he rolled practically on top of Tim, apologetically kissing his cheek. “…You doing okay?”

“No.” Tim said shortly, leaning into Jason’s face. “I hate this. I hate Ra’s.”

“We all do.” Jason soothed. “But we can’t let him go on his own. And, you’re going to be mad, but I agree with Damian – we can’t not answer the call.”

He felt Tim swallow. “…What do you think he’s going to ask him to do?”

“I don’t know, love.” Jason admitted. “I just…have no idea. So, we’ve just got to…hope for the best and prepare for the absolute worst, I guess.”

Damian suddenly appeared next to the bed, yanking the drawer of the nightstand open and digging through it. Jason carefully rolled off of Tim, allowing him to sit up, and reached out for Damian’s wrist.

“I’m sorry I gave you the phone.” He whispered.

Damian smiled sadly, and leaned down to kiss them both.

~~

It wasn’t like the last time they arrived at the compound. The assassins weren’t poised to strike this time. Instead, they just lined the walls, hands on weapons. Welcoming them, but cautiously.

Also unlike last time, it wasn’t Damian storming through the halls like an angry bull, but Dick. Fists tight to his side, and every step a stomp.

Damian didn’t try to comfort him. Just walked side by side with him, glancing at him every few minutes. He understood the other’s anger, obviously.

Jason and Tim brought up the rear, leisurely holding hands.

As they approached the doors, two League members silently opened them. When they crossed the threshold, Damian gently hooked his fingers into two of Dick’s, and gently tugged him to walk behind him. Dick begrudgingly allowed it.

Ra’s was slowly standing from his throne as the four made their way across the floor. Dick, Jason and Tim stopped about three-fourths of the way, watching as Damian stood at his grandfather’s feet.

“Damian.” Ra’s sneered.

“Old man.” Damian returned just as rudely. He crossed his arms. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ra’s chuckled, but turned back to his chair and picked up a folder that had been tucked along the arm. He flipped it through the air and Damian caught it with ease.

Damian opened silently, skimming the front page. Suddenly, his head shot up. “You’re not serious.”

“Very.” Ra’s nodded gravely, like the task upset him.

“What?” Dick stepped forward, trying to peek over Damian’s shoulder. “What does he want you to…”

“I need him to steal a child.” Ra’s called cheerfully.

“What.” Tim called.

“No.” Dick declared. “He’s not doing that.”

“Ah, ah, Mr. Grayson.” Ra’s raised a finger. “You remember the stipulations of the deal – he cannot refuse.”

“And you remember what I promised.” Dick growled, stepping towards the thrown. “If you cashed this favor, I would-”

“Grayson.” Damian called. “Relax.”

Dick spun around. “We’re not stealing a kid.”

“We are not.” Damian agreed. “I am.” A pause, to glance back at the file in his hands. “And it’s not a child. It’s an infant.”

“Damian-”

“Richard.” Damian shot back. “I made an oath. For Timothy’s life and for my own. I have to do this.” Then softer. “Trust me.”

Dick stared at him. God, he wanted to. Trusted him in every other aspect of his life.

“Please.”

And he didn’t know why, but he thought he saw something in Damian’s eye. A secret? Or a plan, perhaps?

He glanced back to Tim and Jason. Tim was just as frustrated as him. Arms crossed and turned away. Jason had his hands in his pockets, watching the scene quietly.

“…Fine.” Dick sighed. He gave one last furious glance to Ra’s before storming past Damian back towards the doors. “Let’s get going, then.”

“Safe travels, dear grandson.” Ra’s hummed. “To you and your lovers.”

He didn’t need to see Ra’s to know he was smiling.

~~

There was silence on the plane.

Dick and Tim refused to speak. Too angry at Ra’s for the favor he’d chosen for Damian to complete. But then conflicted all the same. Because Ra’s didn’t ask him to kill the child, or even the parents. Just steal the child. Steal the baby. No murder, no bloodshed. Just…theft, if they got down to technicalities.

But. Still.

Jason wordlessly flew the jet. Damian sat as his copilot, reading through the file Ra’s had handed him, over and over.

“…I know the other two are pouting.” Jason mumbled after twenty minutes or so. “But you mind giving me the deets on this job at least?”

“Certainly.” Damian sniffed, sitting up slightly. “A baby boy. Almost a year old. Located in Russia.”

He glanced to the back of the plane. Tim was glaring at a wall as he twirled a spoon in a cup of tea. Dick was sitting in a seat, staring blankly out the window.

“Would you two like to hear the next part? It might make you feel better about what I’m doing.” Damian called.

Tim shook his head. “I’m just…you agreed so quickly, Damian. It’s like you didn’t even think about what you were agreeing to.” Tim looked over at him, and looked anguished. “And I know you love me – I do. And I understand you’re doing this to keep me safe, and by extension yourself. But…I’m not worth ripping a child from his family. I’m not.”

“It pains me to say it, but I agree, Beloved. None of us are worth someone else’s pain and suffering.” Damian said plainly. “That’s why I want you to listen to me. Will you do that?”

Tim looked at Dick, who hadn’t looked away from the window, and sighed, stepping towards the cockpit. “Hit me.”

Damian held up the file, like he was reading a storybook to children. “The lab his bio-chamber is being held in is in Chernobyl, along the Ukraine-Russia border.”

“…His what.” Tim whispered. Damian glanced up, and almost smirked. Dick was watching him now, with wide eyes that matched Tim’s.

“His bio-chamber. Like the womb I was grown in, or the tube your friend Kon-El was.” Damian tugged a picture from a paperclip and turned it for the others to see. A long vertical tube, with a tiny baby inside. Scientists standing around it. It was dated almost a year ago, around when the baby would have been born.

Dick stood and rushed forward now, taking the photo. Damian gave it to him, and pulled out another photo. A baby lying on a medical table. More scientists standing around. A needle dragging blood from his arm. It was dated a month or two prior.

“The intel Ra’s gave us seems to think the baby is still at the same lab, being raised underground, more or less.” Damian continued. “And being trained as I was – to be a master in everything.”

“Fuck.” Tim breathed, taking the second picture from Damian.

“Who runs the lab?” Jason growled. He hadn’t attempted to look at the photos, and Damian assumed he wouldn’t. Not when his own anger was growing now. “Or funded the project to create a baby?”

Damian flipped through the pages again. “My guess is the funder is the paternal DNA donor.” He held it up for the three to see. “Lex Luthor.”

“He’s trying to create another human-Kryptonian hybrid.” Tim declared. “Just like Conner all over again.”

He reached for the paper – a DNA test – but suddenly Dick reached out and snapped it away first.

“Damian…” He gasped. Eyes round and sad as he glanced up. Damian watched him expectantly. “The mother…”

“Yes.” Damian nodded. “I saw.”

“What?” Jason glanced back from the controls. But then he looked at Damian, and his gut told him what the answer was.

Tim leaned over, as Dick’s shoulders slumped and he said, “It’s Talia.”

Tim gaped and stared at Damian, who gave him a tired smile. “Now you see why I didn’t need to think too long about retrieving the baby.”

Dick stared at the paper even as Tim pushed past him and dragged Damian into his arms. Damian allowed the gesture. Appreciated it, truly, and thanked Tim for it with a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.

“But why?” Dick asked. “They both tried this decades ago and it didn’t work. Why again, after all these years?”

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” Jason huffed bitterly. “But with Luthor? That’s out of left field.”

“She’s got the brawn, he’s got the brain.” Tim thought out loud, shifting to let Dick take the whole file from Damian’s hands. “Objectively, their chances for raw talent is good.”

“And it was a consenting deal.” Dick read out loud as he skimmed the folder. “There’s a contract here that they both signed.” He furrowed his brows. “With a pen and blood.”

“Okay, I’m real over these fucking blood oaths, have I mentioned that?” Jason snapped. “God, you al Ghuls are fucking ridiculous.”

“So what’s the end game?” Dick wondered aloud.

“At this point, does it matter?” Damian asked wearily. “Neither of them are suitable parents, not that I believe either of them are actually there. And whatever they created a life for can’t be good. Nothing that an innocent child deserves, at least.”

“So, in a way…” Jason almost sang, smirking as he reached out to squeeze Damian’s knee. “We aren’t stealing anything at all. We’re rescuing.”

“You can’t turn this around and make us the good guys, Jay.” Dick scolded, even as Damian returned Jason’s smile. “It’s just an…overall bad situation.”

“Because we might be getting a baby out of a lab…” Tim sighed, leaned his head on Damian’s. “But remember who we have to give the baby to afterwards.”

Damian leaned his weight back against Tim’s, reached up and squeezed the hand on his shoulder. “I have a plan for that.”

Tim looked at him expectantly. But Damian said nothing more, sliding out of Tim’s embrace and turning his attention back to the plane’s mechanics.

~~

It was decided that Damian would be the one to do the proper heavy lifting. The actual stealing bit.

The other three got to do the fun part. They got to beat up the guards.

And they had fun with it, like they always did whenever they got the chance to work together in the mask. They laughed and hollered. Kicked and punched. They even flirted, and snuck kisses between knocking the gunmen unconscious or breaking their legs.

They were surprised, though, about the true lack of guard. Sure, there were twenty or so for the small lab. But their weapons were average. And even the scientists who appeared mid-battle seemed to have no fighting skill whatsoever. Just watched in fear even as they ran for their lives out of the building.

There were no injuries on them. Damian seemed to have spared them, or they gave up without even an inkling of a fight. Which, in the end, was probably for the better.

Still, by the time they were done their task, Damian had not returned, and there’d been no cry of a baby either, or even any hint that one existed.

It was about ten minutes of waiting before Jason gave it up with a huff, calling out for their fourth as he began to explore the area. Tim and Dick followed, with Tim deciding to dismantle and destroy any machine they passed along the way.

Eventually, in a lull of silence, Dick held his hand out for both of them to stop and listen. There was music. Soft, but coming from nearby. A lullaby, it sounded like. Something sweet and twinkly.

Tim pushed the others out of the way and took lead rushing towards the sound. There was still no childish cries, or voices. Just the music.

It was a room around the corner, right in the middle of the hall. The door was open, they could see soft light spilling out of it, spinning in shapes of animals and stars against the opposite wall.

They slowly walked towards it, their hearts in their throats.

What if they were wrong? What if Talia or Lex were here? What if there’d been more guards around the child? What if Damian had been struck down again? What if this was all a ruse – there was no child?

What if…what if…?

But no. An instant relief washed over them as they reached the nursery. Because Damian was there, right inside the small room, a tiny child looking eerily similar to him in his arms, cooing as it reached up for his nose.

The music was coming from the spinning nightlight on a nearby table, and Damian was swaying to it lightly as he smiled to the baby.

They watched for a moment, and now it was Dick’s turn to lead, as he stepped into the room, and sandwiched the baby between himself and Damian.

“Boy?” Dick whispered. The baby glanced at him and squealed in greeting.

Damian nodded in confirmation. “No name. His caretakers informed me they just called him by pet names.”

“Jesus.” Jason growled. “Any signs of mom and dad?”

“No. They check in every six months. Apparently they’d visited two or so weeks ago, so weren’t scheduled for another visit for ages.” Damian glanced up at Dick, who was looking at the baby in awe. “He has…things. I couldn’t carry him and them, so was waiting for you.”

Dick smiled at him, kissing his forehead. “You got it.”

The other two entered the room as well. Jason took Dick’s place in front of Damian as Dick and Tim began to gather toys, clothing and baby supplies.

They left the small weapons they found on a corner table.

“…He looks like you.” Jason noted quietly, wrapping what he hoped was a reassuring arm around Damian’s waist. Damian was concerningly quiet. Smiling at the child, but showing no other emotion otherwise. That probably wasn’t a good thing. “…You could be his dad, even.”

“I know what you’re implying.” Damian shook his head, even as he leaned into Jason’s half-embrace. “But no, we are not raising this child ourselves.”

Jason sighed, brushing the baby’s hair off his forehead. “We can’t give him to your grandpa, Damian. We can’t. You and I both know what he wants him for. He’s no better than Talia.”

Damian nodded. “That’s why I have a plan.”

“Gonna share with the class?” Jason asked as Tim came up beside them, diaper bag in tow.

“Later.” Damian hummed, twisting out of Jason’s hold and out of the room, as Dick grabbed the last few things. Jason huffed in annoyance as the three followed him out.

The guards were all still down as they reached the outer room once more, but Damian paid them no mind anyway. He was utterly relaxed, and it had the other three on edge.

“We are…saving him, right?” Tim asked as they got outside.

“I have a plan.” Damian repeated simply.

“…Okay.” Tim sighed, coming up to Damian’s side. “Can we…give him a name, at least?”

“It’s not our place to.” Damian hummed. “He’ll get one soon enough.”

As they walked to their plane parked in a clearing nearby, they suddenly came across the huddle of scientists that had run. Damian stopped as they walked by them, looking at them with an emotionless, almost regal, glare.

“When Talia al Ghul and Lex Luthor come calling.” He announced. “You tell them who stole their newest pet project.”

A pause, to let that sink in.

“You tell them Ra’s al Ghul sent his assassins to destroy his daughter’s work and steal the child for a new vessel.” Damian explained. And then, to everyone’s surprise: “And you tell them that the assassins made a mistake, and the child died in transit.”

Everyone, from Dick, Tim and Jason to the scientists stared at each other, bewildered.

“Tell them that, or I will come back and personally haunt you the rest of your days.” Damian promised. “Understood?”

The scientists, some still crying in fear, nodded vigorously.

Apparently satisfied, Damian nodded, and continued his leisurely pace back to their jet.

The rest of the walk was silent. It wasn’t until they were back on the plane, the doors shut and Dick, now piloting, was getting them off the ground, that Dick murmured: “Damian…”

“I have a plan.” Damian sighed as he plopped into the copilot chair once more, the baby still tight in his arms, almost asleep now.

“You’ve said.” Dick snapped. “And now you need to tell us what that damn plan is.”

Damian seemed to consider for a moment, staring out the front windshield. Jason was leaning against the wall beside Dick, and Tim was leaning against him. It was clearly a three-against-one situation, despite no one actually saying so.

After the silence, Damian clicked his tongue, and hit a few buttons. A second later, a screen popped up on his side of the window. Within it, one Jonathan Kent, covered in dirt as he climbed down from a tractor.

“Howdy, D.” He grinned, readjusting his baseball hat. A dog barked in the background. “Whatcha need?”

“Are they still in Costa Rica?” Damian asked.

“Far as I know, living right outside the capital.” Jon sniffed. “That’s where my last letter came from, anyway. Though you said you’d gotten yours from Vancouver…”

“Yours months came after mine.” Damian reminded. “And on mine they said they were on vacation.”

“True.” Jon nodded. Then glanced around and frowned. “Damian, are you holding a bab-”

“We must go. Tell Conner to expect a call from Drake soon.” He reached forward and hit a button. Jon disappeared. “Set a course for Costa Rica.”

“Why?” Dick demanded.

“Because that’s where we’re taking him.”

“What?” Jason barked. “Why are we taking him to Costa Rica?”

“Ra’s is expecting him.” Tim added. “I…kind of thought your plan would be to take the baby there and then fight Ra’s for him. That way he couldn’t say you broke your deal…”

“I’m not breaking my deal.” Finally, Damian smiled. Warm, genuine and so him. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve completed my owed favor. And now Drake and I are both free of any hold my grandfather and his league have on us.”

The baby suddenly grumbled, and Damian looked down to tend to him. The others waited patiently.

“…Grandfather demanded I steal a child.” Damian said almost cheerfully. “He never said I had to bring him said child.”

Dick, Jason and Tim were all silent, mouths open in shock and realization.

Then, Jason: “You fucking little shit.”

Damian grinned wider, glancing to Dick. “That’s why I was trying to make you shut up when he told me what he wanted. I didn’t want to give him the chance to include that stipulation.”

Tim pushed from Jason’s side, slowly walking up to Damian as he talked. He stared down at him, eyes darting between the baby and the man holding him.

“We stole the baby. My favor has been completed.” Damian said proudly. He looked up at Tim, reached out to tenderly take his hand. “Now we will take the baby to where it will be safe, and then enjoy the rest of our days together.”

Tim continued to stare at him, before mindlessly blurting, “I have never been so attracted to you in my whole life.”

Damian laughed, and kissed his knuckles.

“Yeah, but Costa Rica?” Dick asked. “Who do you know in Costa Rica? Who does Jon know in Costa Rica?”

“Friends.” Damian said, tugging Tim downwards to kiss him proper.

~~

They had almost reached their destination when Damian’s personal cell phone rang. Dick glanced first at the phone sitting on the dashboard, then the chair to his right – where Damian was fast asleep.

Jason had taken the baby – also asleep – a while ago, and frowned at the caller ID. “It’s gramps.”

Dick was going to ask if they should answer it, but Tim appeared from the back of the plane and hit the button to do so before he could.

“Ra’s.” He hummed.

“Timothy.” Ra’s returned, already on speaker. “When should I expect your troop?”

Tim smirked. “Whatever do you mean?”

Ra’s sighed dramatically. “I’m in no mood to play, Timothy. I’m a very busy man.”

“As are we.” Tim sneered.

“Where is my child?” Ra’s pushed.

“We don’t know where Talia is. Didn’t run into her.” Tim mocked. He leaned against the arm of Damian’s chair, softly glanced at him and reached out to run his fingers through his hair. Damian didn’t wake, but shifted unconsciously to lean into Tim’s presence.

“The infant.” Ra’s snapped. “The one you’ve been tasked to deliver to me.”

“Oh?” Tim asks curiously. “Last I checked, our mission was only to steal an infant. Not deliver.”

There was a pause of silence on the line. Tim kept the grin on his face. “Timothy-”

“Think about what you said, old man.” Jason called, almost too giddy. “Think about exactly what you said when you explained what you wanted him to do.”

Another moment of quiet. They could feel the Demon’s anger growing, even through the phone.

“Damian completed his promise.” Tim whispered. “He stole a child.”

“And if you come after him or Tim now, you break your oath.” Jason reminded. “Your motherfucking blood oath.”

“…You bastards.” Ra’s hissed. “You dirty, honorless street rats-”

“Sticks and stones, Ra’s.” Jason yelled over him. The baby stirred and began to cry. “And don’t think for a second that I won’t shoot you in your goddamn face if you break that oath and show up in our lives ever again. That I won’t do it every single time, no matter how many times you throw yourself in that stupid Lazarus Pit.”

Another moment of waiting. Dick forced himself to keep his eyes on the sky around them. Jason turned away to shush the baby. Tim stared at the phone, absently rubbing at Damian’s shoulder.

“…Tell my grandson congratulations.” Ra’s murmured. “He has never been able to beat me. Not ever, in his whole life. Always too weak.” A low, bitter chuckle. “But there is a first time for everything. And I supposed he saved his victory for when it mattered to him the most.”

Dick, Jason and Tim all smiled to themselves.

“I will keep my oath.” Ra’s declared, but with a tone that suggested maybe not always. That the four of them should always be on their toes anyway, just in case.

Then the line clicked, and the call was ended.

~~

It was sunset by the time Dick landed the plane on a grassy hill in the middle of nowhere. The skies were a deep, bloody red, with tinges of a fiery pink and golden yellow.

Damian departed the jet first, the dozing baby tight in his arms. The others exited in a line behind him, looking around the area in awe. Rural, full of hills and animals and just pure, blissful beauty. A perfect getaway from the stresses of the modern world.

There was a single, small house nearby. A livestock pen and vegetable field close by. A few growing apple trees. Damian walked swiftly towards the front door, and paused when he reached it, before knocking loudly.

A few seconds, enough for the others to catch up to him, then the loud twist of an old door knob, and it was swung open.

A woman stood there. Dark skin, short black hair held back by a headband. Taller than Damian by a head or so.

Damian smiled up at her. “Maya.”

“Damian?” She asked, a mixture of confusion and honestly-not-really-surprised-at-all. At the name, there was the sound of someone else moving in the house. “What are you doing here? And why didn’t you call?”

Another woman appeared around the corner. Blonde, with freckles. A single braid draped across her shoulders.

Jon’s old friend Kathy Branden.

“To ask a big favor.” Damian glanced behind Maya, and nodded to Kathy as she approached.

“No Jon?” Kathy asked.

“Not this time.” Damian said apologetically. “Kathy, I don’t believe you’ve ever met my…boyfriends.” He gestured behind him. “Dick, Jason and Timothy.”

“Call me Tim.” Tim offered when it was his turn to shake her hand. “I think we met at Jon’s birthday party a few years ago?”

“That’s why you look familiar!” Kathy laughed.

“Beloveds, this is my old friend Maya, and her wife Kathy.” Damian offered.

“Long time, Maya.” Dick smiled. “Didn’t know you moved down here. Or got married.”

“Eloped. And we travel a lot, but really like it here.” Maya waved off. “But that’s not important. What is important is why Damian Wayne is currently at my front door holding a baby.”

“Long story short, we need you to take him. Hide him and keep him safe.” Damian cut to the chase, shifting to give the women a better look at the infant in his arms. The boy blinked sleepily. “…You two did always say you wanted children.”

“…Whose baby, though?” Maya asked, even as Kathy reached out to take the baby’s hand. The infant wrapped a tight fist around her finger. “I mean, I can’t imagine he’s yours…”

“My mother’s.” Damian said matter-of-factly. “And Lex Luthor’s.”

Kathy’s eyes flashed. Maya frowned.

“He was raised like I was – artificially. Starting to be trained to kill. And my grandfather wants to harm him.” Damian said, even as Kathy stepped forward and held her arms out. Damian instantly handed the child over. “So we stole him from the laboratory and ran away.”

Maya stared at him, even as Kathy began cooing instantly. Her dark eyes silently darted to the three men behind him, questioning.

“He doesn’t have a name.” Damian murmured. “And even if you and Kathy decide you cannot help him, I’d love for the honor of giving him one to go to you both.”

Maya let her eyes settle back on him, then her face relaxed, and she sighed dramatically. “Alright, alright, get your asses in here. Better to talk over a beer or two than on a front porch, no?”

Damian smiled as Maya gestured to the four to come inside, and stepped forward to hug her even as the others followed Kathy into the abode.

When the others were far enough away, Damian squeezed Maya as tight as he could, relishing in her return of the embrace, and whispered a warm, “Thank you.”

~~

It was Tim who heard the phone buzzing on the nightstand. One of four, and he waited a minute to listen to the pattern, before lazily calling:

“Damian.”

He blindly slapped around for the phone until he felt his fingers wrap around it, then picked it up and flopped over, holding it in the air over the three lying next to him.

(Dick huffed when Tim’s elbow accidentally hit him in the face.)

A second later the phone was taken, the bed shifted, and Damian quietly mumbled, “This is Damian.”

Nosy, the other three, in various stages of not-quiet-sleep, listened. Jason flopped his arm across Damian’s hips, nuzzled into his waist. Tim curled around Dick like an octopus, as Dick stretched his arms above his head, dropping them onto the pillow.

There was a time, not so long ago, just like this. Where Damian was handed the phone for an early-morning call, and had to go face his grandfather for both his and Tim’s lives.

But this time, after the pause, Damian…laughed.

“Oh, is that so?”

The voice that answered was female. When Dick glanced over, he saw a smile plastered to Damian’s face.

Another laugh. “You only call him my little brother when he’s in trouble.”

Jason gave a little groan and tugged on Damian’s waist. Damian, surprisingly, fell back into the mattress, turning into Jason’s embrace.

“Well sure, but I should warn you – Todd is incredibly naked.”

The next second Damian’s phone binged, and he held it up, revealing a video call of Maya, holding the baby she and Kathy gladly accepted from him – on the condition all four of them remain in the child’s life as well.

Samuel Cobb Ducard, they named him. Little Sammy.

“Hi, Sammy.” Dick called, leaning on Jason’s shoulder. He waved, and the toddler waved enthusiastically back. “How are you?”

“He’s terrible.” Maya said, but warmly. Kathy walked by in the background. Tim leaned across the pillows to also be in frame. “Kid can barely walk and he somehow snuck a goat into his nursery. A goat, Damian!”

Damian laughed again. “I don’t see how this is my fault.”

“Same DNA, little bro.” Maya scolded. “I’m assuming he also has your love and mystical ability of obtaining animals. So I’m going to need you to tell me how to turn it off.”

Damian snorted.

“…Nah, really we didn’t call for much.” Maya laughed herself. “Sammy was just missing his ‘uncle’ Dami and wouldn’t stop screaming until we called. So,” She glanced at her son. “Happy now?”

Sammy clapped and giggled.

“You boys get back to sleep. Sorry we woke you.” A quick wink. “Please use condoms if you decide to have some morning fun instead.”

“Goodbye, Maya We’ll call later.” Damian groaned. Maya cackled as she ended the call.

“…I like her.” Tim decided, shifting back into their cocoon of a blanket.

“Hm.” Damian mumbled, dropping his phone to the floor and curling into Jason’s embrace, throwing his arm over Jason’s waist. “I like this better.”

“What?” Jason sighed.

“Freedom.” He whispered. “You. This.”

“Don’t get sappy.” Tim mumbled in a whine. “I’m too tired to be sappy.”

“I like to be reminded that you’re all safe, and we’re rid of my grandfather.” Damian continued. “Sammy’s calls always remind me of that.”

“All thanks to you and that brain.” Jason kissed his forehead as Dick silently took Damian’s hand. “You know what I like best?”

“Dick’s butt.” Damian and Tim said in unison.

“First off, no, I’m not a butt guy, you know that.” Jason scolded, squeezing Damian and slapping at Tim’s arm. “And second off, what I like best is the fact that there are no more goddamn blood oaths.”

Damian snorted, and Tim groaned at the bad joke. Dick laughed, as he wrapped his free arm around Tim’s shoulders, gave a quick kiss to Damian’s knuckles and leaned his face against Jason’s shoulder.

“Together. We’re together, safe and alive.” Dick hummed, closing his eyes, tightening his grip on Damian’s hand on the last word. “That’s what I like best.”

None of his lovers could disagree with that.

[miriannemiri]

Krayt’s Bargain, Part 4

Continuing on to actually meeting Leia.  And her reaction to this situation, of course.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

For all that Bestine was what passed for a capital on Tatooine, the greater official presence was in either Mos Eisley or Mos Espa, depending on where there had been more trouble recently.  Those were the ports that criminals headed through.  While the official outpost was in Bestine, few troops were posted there.  Besides, it was close to Jabba’s Palace, and much as Vader hated it, the Hutts did have an arrangement with the Empire.

Bestine was also the closest thing to a luxury destination the desert planet had.  It had a nice place to stay, at least, and Vader had booked the suite where he and Luke waited.  Rather, he’d sent Veers in civilian clothes to book the room; Vader had no intention of letting the irritating Princess find out he was on the planet until she was already in the room.  Bringing Veers into the secrets surrounding this trip had been a risk but a minimal one; he knew he held the general’s loyalty.

Now, Veers was keeping watch somewhere nearby, waiting for what would come of this meeting.

In the suite, Luke was pacing the sitting room.  Vader was sitting in a shadowed corner, out of easy sight with his respirator set to stealth mode.  Normally, he couldn’t leave it that way for an extended period; it was slightly less effective, and the loss of support got very painful all too quickly and would eventually be dangerous.  Now, however. . .

Much as he disliked admitting it, calling on the Light side of the Force had helped him somehow.  Oh, he wasn’t healed, could no more do without the life support the suit offered than he could have right after Mustafar, but the fight to breathe was a little less painful, a little less of a struggle.  The respirator didn’t have to work quite so hard to force air into his ruined lungs.

The decrease in pain, from even such a small change, was staggering.

He doubted it would ever be enough to free him of dependence on a respirator, but he’d take any improvement he could get after more than twenty years of nothing but bad news where his health was concerned.

Especially now, when he actually had someone to live for.

Though he’d tried, twice, to get Luke to calm down a bit, it hadn’t worked.  In fact, reminding Luke he was there seemed to make the boy’s nerves worse, so he’d stopped trying.  He wasn’t quite willing to offer to leave, much as he disliked seeing the child so upset.

Yoda was back at the estate, much to the old Jedi’s dismay.  He hadn’t wanted to let them leave without his supervision, but the medical droid’s report had dictated that he needed to spend at least a week under care for a late stage illness.  With that care, it was curable.  Without it, the illness would be terminal.  Vader had refused any arguments to come after getting that information, and they’d all known that putting off this meeting too long would only make it more difficult.

Yoda had, eventually, been convinced.  Or at least had conceded that he wasn’t going to win the fight that would be necessary to convince Vader otherwise.  Vader suspected that watching him train his son, in purely Light side techniques and while drawing on the Light himself, had been a big contributing factor to Yoda’s eventual agreement.  He knew it was not something the Order thought a Sith capable of—he’d believed the same, once.  Only his Oath had pushed him to try.

Vader hadn’t said it, but he was relieved Yoda had agreed for more than just keeping the old master alive for his son’s sake.  This meeting was going to be unpleasant enough.

And a knock at the door warned that it was time.  Vader sank further into the shadows in his corner.  Luke had frozen at the sound.  Now, he shot one half-frantic glance over his shoulder at Vader.

Go on, Kraytling.

Luke nodded, started for the door, and froze again.  His expression this time was more incredulous than the near panic it had been a moment ago.  Then he shook his head and walked over to open the door.

Vader felt his mouth curve in a small smirk.

“Leia!” Luke grabbed her and hugged her as soon as he got the door open.  

Contrary to Imperial rumors, Vader sensed no hint of romantic feelings between them.  He wasn’t sure what to make of that revelation.

“Come in,” Luke continued.

“What’s this about a new plan?” the princess demanded once she was inside the room with the door shut behind her.  “Chewie and the droids are on the Falcon, and Lando says everything’s ready at Jabba’s Palace.  Isn’t it a bit late in the planning for you to change everything up?”

“I have a new ally,” the child said slowly.  Vader could feel the boy choosing every word.  “One who will make rescuing Han go far more smoothly than the original plan.”

“You met someone who wants to join the Rebellion on your last mission?”

Vader’s eyes narrowed, but Luke was already shaking his head.

“No,” Luke said.  “He’s allied to me, not the Rebellion.  He is, like me, from Tatooine.  On this planet, there’s a custom of a type of binding pact, one that you don’t break.  The cultural consequences are. . .unpleasant.  I tricked him into such a pact, and he considers it as binding as I do, though I didn’t expect all the consequences.”

The princess’s eyes narrowed.  “Who is this person?  What aren’t you telling me?”

“This isn’t a trap.  I haven’t betrayed you.  I swear it.”

“That isn’t making me feel better.”

Luke flinched.

“I believe you,” Leia said with a sigh.  “You know I trust you.”

When Luke took a deep breath and a step back from her, Vader adjusted his respirator back to its standard configuration.  The controls were not designed for him to use with ease, but the Force compensated.  He watched both his child and the princess stiffen at the sound that carried through the room.

“Vader.”

“Your Highness.”

She straightened with all the imperious, regal bearing she’d carried in the Senate—or at a court gala.  “What is happening here?” she asked, voice icy.

“The boy told you that.  He tricked me into a pact that is culturally binding for both of us, leaving us as tentative allies.”

The princess’s eyes narrowed.  “He also said that both he and his ‘new ally’ are from Tatooine.  Luke, I knew.  You, I find difficult to believe.”

“Hard to believe or not, it is the truth.”

She took a half step back, eyes wide at that simple answer.  “But you’re—I mean, everyone thinks you’re a former Jedi.”

Luke tensed, but Vader merely rolled his eyes behind his mask.  He’d heard that rumor for years.  “Your point?”

“Jedi were raised in the Order.  Are you lying to Luke?”

“He isn’t,” Luke said immediately.  “I’d sense it.”  Though he did glance at Vader with a frown.  I take it that you had a childhood outside the Order wasn’t typical?

Yoda and Obi-Wan have told you nothing, then.  He looked back at the princess.  “I am not lying, as he says.  Your friend is quite sensitive to the Force.  He would know.”

“Then how?  And how would Luke know?  He’s never mentioned it.”

Vader hesitated.  He would not be the one to reveal their shared blood if his son didn’t want her to know of it.

But Luke took a deep breath.  “I found out at Bespin.  He told me, when he told me why he was really chasing me.  But I’d always known he spent his childhood on Tatooine.  I just didn’t connect the knowledge to Vader.  You’re right that he’s a former Jedi, by the way.  Obi-Wan’s old student.  And partner.”  He met the princess’s eyes.  “He’s my father.”

Her eyes widened.  She took a deep breath.  A second one.  “All right.  Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.  Is Darth Vader.”

Though Vader tensed at the sound of his old name, he stifled any response.

“That does explain the shared Tatooine heritage,” she continued after a moment.  “And that you let yourself get tricked into such a pact.”

“My son’s life was at stake,” Vader said quietly.  “I do not consider this pact too great a price to pay.”

“I’m surprised you care.”

Vader stalked forward a step, furious with the arrogant, condescending princess.  “I thought he was dead for twenty years.  When I found out, I pursued him.  But our familial matters are hardly your concern, Your Highness.”

Her chin went up, but she nodded after a moment.  “Fine.  What are the stipulations of this pact?”

“The first one was simple,” Luke said.  “He swore he wouldn’t let me fall.  It was the only way I’d let him pull me up, when I was at risk of literally falling to my death.  But I meant more than just a fall to my death.  I also meant a Fall to the Dark side.  And Father knows it.”

Though Organa flinched at the honorific Luke used, she kept the reaction off her face.  She was very much a politician, and she also latched onto the part of that pact that was causing the current situation.  A situation Vader no longer considered a problem, as such, but was sure would still be considered one at best in the princess’s eyes.

“‘Let,’ you said?” she asked sharply.

“Let,” Vader confirmed.  “I will not break our bargain.  I told Luke as much.”

“He insisted we talk but gave his word he wouldn’t hold me.”

“But you’re still with him?”

“We did talk.  We negotiated, to be precise.  Father is the one who gave his word, but I would not be the one to force him to break that pact without cause.  That is not as culturally prohibited as Father breaking his word would be, but it still. . .isn’t done.”

“I find it hard to believe a cultural imperative from an Outer Rim planet you haven’t lived on in decades is so binding to you, of all people, Lord Vader.”

“I came to the Order late,” Vader said coldly.  “My childhood was on Tatooine.  Cultural imperatives learned in childhood are not so easily set aside.”

“All right, fine.  I may not understand the cultural imperatives or approve of this situation, but I recognize that a shared cultural background seems to have led here.  Luke said you negotiated.  I take it your presence here on Tatooine is a result of that negotiation?”

“My son wanted your scoundrel rescued.  That is one of my concessions, in return for his agreement to let me train him.”  He held up a hand when the princess bristled.  “In the Light side, Your Highness.  Give him more credit than that.  As you have long suspected and now have confirmed, I have Jedi training.  Between that and the Jedi Master Luke trained under after Hoth, we will manage.”

The princess planted her fists on her hips and glared up at Vader.  “What other terms did the two of you agree to, then?”

“I agreed to stay with him.  Well, on his estate when he’s busy; I’m not going to live on his Star Destroyer.  I’m free to come and go as I please, though I agreed to tell him before I leave, and you, Han, Chewie, and the droids will be welcome to come and go as well.  He and Yoda will both train me.”

The princess looked between Luke and Vader for a moment.  Luke wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she accepted the gesture for a moment.  Then she stepped away and glided to the table by the window.  She sat down, and Luke moved to sit beside her.  Vader watched until she turned and looked at him.  “Join us, Lord Vader.  Tell me your plan for Han.”

After a moment’s pause, Vader nodded slightly and stalked across the room.  He took the third chair and began to explain.

[sweetsunrayssr]

Gordon’s Gift

Warning: spoilers until 4x08, theory, keep handkerchiefs nearby

In Gordon’s Shrine, the Garage, I already stipulated how the Garage is Gordon’s shrine that he tried to rebuild with Joe since S1 in part I. To summarize, their cooperation only worked within a garage setting. Gordon and his relationship with Joe breaks down in basements or doesn’t get off the ground. And when he tries to build similar inspirational working relationships in the garage (or garage like setting) with others or by himself it fizzles quickly. I also stipulated that the origin of the garage shrine for Gordon rooted back to his youth, and how Gordon’s insistence on keeping his bro-mance with Joe exclusive and keep out Cameron self-sabotages his business and his friendship with Joe.

ROOT TRIANGLE

Basically the shrine building keeps happening in a character’s arc like an iteration of earlier versions, and is deeply rooted for each of them in their youth or childhood: a parent, sibling or even a childhood sweetheart who either is beyond their reach through death, irreparable damage, or just not the right person. This Freudian take is also reflected in the Pilgrim as a “kid”.

The unsalvageable root of Gordon’s garage shrine is his relationship with his brother Henry, Henry’s high school sweetheart Jules, and his father’s auto shop.  After learning about his disease in 2x05, and unable to reveal it to Donna, Gordon seeks someone to unburden and ends up calling his brother Henry to relate his wish to visit him in California with Joanie and Haley. Even during the telephone conversation, we already get a hint of a fraught sibling relationship between Gordon and Henry.

While Henry initially acts empathic and helpful during the visit, the next day he sends Gordon and his two daughters out of the house late at night, immediately suspecting Gordon slept with his ex-girlfriend Jules. The only reason that Henry was empathic to Gordon was in the hope that Gordon could convince their father not to sell the auto shop.

Off-screen, Gordon learned over the phone with his father that Henry is an alcoholic, chased customers away and leveraged the autoshop over the “past three years”. Meanwhile, Henry tends to spend half of his time in Jules’ bar, drinking. This is not dissimilar to Joe screwing around with post-its for three years in the basement.

Along with the callous, impulsive manner in which Henry sends two children of 6 and 8 out in the night over Jules, while Henry himself is long married with children, suggests that Henry never really got over Jules and that he long resents Gordon for his failures in life. These brothers were not just estranged, but likely had a severe falling out around the time that Gordon left for Berkeley. Jules seems to have been in the middle of that, both in the past as well as the present.

Jules is a single mother of a 12-year old son R.J. she loves and regards as her anchor. Gordon apparently never knew about this and thus he has not seen or heard about Jules since at least ’72-‘73, when he would have been 19 and studying at Berkeley. The father doesn’t have to be Henry, but it is possible. She talks in disdain and pity about Henry, denying she wants to get back with him, and yet she later admits to narc over Henry.  A part of her cannot let go of Henry, and her sleeping with Gordon is some twisted form to return to the past.

Whether Gordon was envious of Jules choosing Henry over Gordon back in High School or how Henry’s affections for Jules may have stood in the way of Gordon having his brother all to himself is unclear, imho. Likely it was a mix of both. Being the younger brother, Gordon likely looked up to Henry, but simultaneously may have envied him for Henry was the sports guy and “handsome one”, and Gordon relied on his wit to impress people and girls. Jules and Katie have physical similarities as body type, so Jules may have been Gordon’s type.

We don’t need the exact particulars, but it should be clear that Gordon, Henry and Jules have a triangulation connection where they play chess with one another, not just in ’85 during Gordon’s visit, but in the years before Gordon left for Berkeley. While Gordon moved on to Donna, San Francisco and Dallas, Jules and Henry never actually moved on at all, even though Henry married another woman. The fact that it can go so wrong within a day in ‘85, as the three of them use each other in dysfunctional ways, is a sign that it is actually a rote pattern between them.

The triangle of Gordon, Joe and Cameron shows a lot of similarities, except the fact that Gordon never appeared to be attracted to Cameron in any way (she is not his type). What it all comes down to is that Joe “replaces” the broken brother bond for Gordon. Note how I do not say that Joe “surrogates” for Henry. Joe is the “brother” that his actual brother Henry could never have been for Gordon. Joe trumps Henry. In fact, he does not seek out Henry in S2, until his one-time-deal with Joe at Westgroup is done, as if Henry is the “surrogate” to Joe.

PLAYING CHESS

The failed youth triangle of Gordon, Henry and Jules  explains his almost immediate antagonistic position towards Cameron from the get-go in S1. Despite Joe having proven himself to be manipulative and untrustworthy and Cameron only being a 22 year old college drop-out, he searches for evidence against Cameron, wanting Joe to get rid of her once the BIOS is written. When he learns that Joe is considering Cam’s OS idea, he tells her coders that she’s sleeping with Joe.  He uses her to play Joe emotionally into putting up the money for Comdex ’83. And intends to use Joe’s feelings for her by threatening to send her to jail to make Joe agree to the original shipping date, even though Cameron has left . Donna calls this “the chess game you three play with each other,” to Cameron.

Chessboards are a recurring décor item throughout the series, in quite telling scenes about having control, such as when Joe seduces Travis at Mrs. Lutherford’s in 1X03. Joe pushes Travis onto a table with a chessboard and sends the pieces flying. Cameron’s top of S1 with the squares that reappears in S4 is a chess board. Joe tests and figures out how Cam and Mutiny tried to deceive him about UNIX with a chess game. And Haley plays chess against herself. Different story, but having a similar analogue on how people use each other like chess pieces, check out the Musical Chess of ’86, from which you probably know Murray’s song, “One Night in Bangkok”.

In S1 Joe, Gordon and Cameron play as dysfunctional a chess game as the games played between Gordon, Jules and Henry in 2x06. The final season, ten years later, we finally have an iteration where these three have an opportunity to relate in a non-dysfunctional way. Cameron played a key part in reconciling Gordon and Joe, in Joe keeping urls for the past three years, planting the seed that leads to Joe’s web indexing idea and a business model where Joe and Gordon are not just business partners in name, but truly work together harmoniously. Gordon may not be playing pool table with his brother Henry, but he would not have been playing pool together with his chosen “brother” Joe, without Cam’s nudges. (Note: the left gif is what we see before the camera pans out to show us Gordon and Henry talking over beer in Jules’ bar)

And yet, Gordon’s initial reaction to Joe and Cameron is once more antagonistic, and attempts to verbally step into Joe’s personal life again. Unlike S1, he does not take further direct personal destructive actions though. He does draw the line at Cameron’s presence at Comet, even though they’re hiring and her career is down the dumps, eventually leading to her choice to writing the algorithm for the competition Rover. This logically has its backlash in the personal relationship between Joe and Cameron, Comet and bubbles over into Gordon’s personal life as Haley is uncomfortable around Katie. S1 Joe, Gordon and Cameron would have been unable to handle this graciously, resulting into a broken down triangle as much as the one between Gordon, Henry and Jules. In S4 they’re all more mature. They’re still flawed and make mistakes, but are far better equipped in dealing with it, and moving past it.

And so at the start of 4x06 we have a reconciliation conversation between Gordon and Cameron over her helping Bos with the algorithm for Rover. Initially Gordon jokes about Cam’s professional crisis and disbeliefs her aversion to tech. But her insistence and claim she doesn’t dream in code anymore ends with Gordon staring at her thoughtfully for quite a while, before Joe calls for their attention that they’re ready to do the rocket launching. The length of that stare built a feeling of expectation that there would be some follow-up to this from Gordon, and yet we never seemed to have one.

Gordon seems overall inspired during the launch as he stares up at his rocket, as if he gets to be the visionary for once. While initially reluctant and deaf about Joe’s hints about Haley, Gordon gets it when he visits Corn Dog. He has his own visionary idea, based on Donna’s marketing information. He uses Joe, in a positive and honest way, to patch his relationship with Haley. He fixes the AC. He accepts the idea of a re-design as part of a re-launch. He has a stable relationship with Katie in which he is genuinely happy. His daughters like her too. He has a good co-parenting friendship with Donna. And the moment of his death is one of beautiful peace and recognition of Donna as the love of his life.

It thus seems odd that he did nothing to help fix Cameron’s career, especially in light of the fact that Gordon admitted his part in the events that led to Bos’s heart attack, and their unconditional friendship. Surely, Gordon was able to recognize his contribution to the threat in Joe’s and Cameron’s relationship at the start of 4x05? Surely, Gordon could recognize his pre-S1 and S2 issues being mirrored in Cameron’s life. He mentioned the Symphonic to her, as well as “having too much time on her hands” and how it leads to trouble. Hell, he was 32 himself in S2 when he was professionally adrift.

THE GIFT

I propose that Gordon did in fact did something for Cameron. Sometime after the rocket launching, Cameron finally checks her emails on Joe’s computer, for the first time since about half a year. Her inbox is full of emails by either Tom, Alexa and Gavin from Atari, and one email giving her a link to a fansite “The Howe of it all”: http://www.thehoweofitall.com/

The link was not sent to her by either of the people mentioned, but by “Haley” via her Comet mail address.  The show give us the impression that Haley must have discovered the fan website, sent a link to Cameron, but that Alexa built it since her emails to contact Cameron went unanswered. Cameron at least seems to assume as much.

But the way Alexa talks of Pilgrim hardly convinces me that she ever reached the higher levels. If she did, she may have used backdoors into the code, and only saw the imagery, without realizing the metaphors behind it. She only talks of world building, while of course figuring out that the Pilgrim is a kid is the spiritual gaming reward. Alexa does not seem to get the spirituality nor soul of the game, but is purely focused on the world and graphics containing the puzzles (even the level 0 world contains fake puzzles). And while she dispassionately praises Cam’s work as “great”, it sounds empty. None of her words about Pilgrim at their first private meeting, or the bots in the trailer and the hike match with the tone of praise of the fan site. No wonder that Cameron is confused by Alexa: she thinks this woman understands her.

The most glaring oddity about the fan site are the pictures. The site shows one of the pictures that Tom took in S2 of the Mutiny staff. It is however not the picture that Cam, Tom and Bos chose to use for the Mutiny ad in Byte. (In the S2 gifs of 2x04 below, the left one is the picture scene used for the website, while the right one ended up in Byte as an ad.) You may have noticed this discrepancy while watching 4x06, or when visiting the “Howe of it all” website, but relegated it as the show’s prop department’s choice, and just thought it was cool to see those pictures.

In-world it makes little sense for Alexa to have gotten her hands on those. Those pictures were not digital, but physically developed from Tom’s negatives and not in the public domain at all, not in Byte, never on Mutiny’s interface. Heck, Mutiny’s interface is non-existent and the reason why the creator of the fan site used a playnet gif instead of Mutiny. Alexa could only get such a picture from the person who kept them.

The Polaroid of Cameron in the Cardiff basement while working on the BIOS is even more startling. Polaroids are unique pictures without a negative. And in 4x08, we see Gordon was in possession of exactly that Polaroid when Cameron rummages through the pictures. More, since the Polaroid of Donna was taken in their Dallas kitchen and of Gordon in his garage, the Polaroid camera was in possession of the Clark’s to begin with.

This Polaroid of Cameron is the direct evidence that Gordon made the Cameron Howe fan site and had Haley send the link to Cameron via email, or Gordon used Haley’s email address for it. Alexa had nothing to do with that site at all. It was Gordon’s gift to Cameron to boost her career confidence. (Yes, I know, your eyes are prickling and your throat thick digesting this, no?).

Hence, the pictures on the website aren’t errors or deviations by the production prop department. They are deliberately chosen by the prop departments as clues and hints to the in-story fan site creator: Gordon.

What a beautiful gift that site is if created by Gordon: Gordon calls Space Bike his favorite game, publically recognizes her work on the Giant (which he did not do at Comdex ’83), memorializes Mutiny and gives her sole credit for the founding of it, and calls for a publication of Pilgrim by Atari, providing a public hint to a level of the game that reveals he figured it out (like Donna did) and shows those gamers who loathed it for fools.

Finally, @paceofbase  alerted me about a strange date for the email in Cam’s inbox about the fan site: it says Saturday 20th of August 1994. The prop department certainly looked it up, because 20th of August 1994 was indeed a Saturday. Except the last emails with a month on the screen say March. Haley’s failing tests at school (it’s not summer holiday), and her biology re-do test says 11th of April 1994. Curt Cobain died on the 5th of April 1994. We discussed with each other whether the datestamp for the email about the fansite was a massive production error or something else.

Gordon though has enough code knowledge to fiddle with the server date, and thus make it look like he sent an email “from the future”. So, the date again is not a prop error, but a deliberate in-world “mistake” smuggled in by Gordon to hint to Cameron that she still has a future in tech.

Joe tried to play it, but lost himself in the puzzles, and likely never played it anymore as he tries to understand Cameron up-close and personal instead. At least he figured out the Airstream game. We saw Donna finish it on screen. The game was her sole safe way to make “contact”. But Gordon never said a word about the game on screen, though Cameron gave it to him and he visited the testing room to warn her to be considerate of Joe’s feelings for her. Whether Gordon figured it out by himself or Donna revealed some of the tricks and hints to Gordon is not that important. But of the four, aside from Cameron, Gordon was the actual fellow “gamer” and connected with her via “games”. 

4x08’s final scene also confirmed that Gordon can be sneaky and secretive, in contrast to his usual blabbing and shooting his mouth. Donna thinks he never jumped from that quarry cliff into the lake, but he did, and he never told anyone.

An oddity in all of 4x08 is how the camera pans from the dinner table to his “office” in the house and lingers for a while on an old wooden writing desk and file closet, presumably something Gordon has of his grandmother. Bos making his chili is reminiscent to Gordon making his grandmother’s stew in S1 for his daughters, one of the moments where Gordon bonds with his daughters as father, contrasting the 4x08 flashback scenes of him walking out on Donna and baby Joanie when Joanie starts to cry. Donna brings up how this and that in the house are keepsakes from Gordon’s grandmother. So, what is interesting about this old-timer desk? Well, it is free from tech. It’s a writing desk, not a computer desk. And thus can be seen as a link to Cam’s exclamation of being done with tech.  

CONCLUSION

Gordon’s Gift gave Cameron enough confidence to start working again and thereby he resolves his part in sending Cameron away from Comet in the first half of S4. By publically acknowledging her contribution to the Giant, he helped her to see the soul back in the machine, as she is fooling around with self-learning AI. His gift attempts to strip the pair Joe & Cameron of side-issues that distract from the most important ones about building a life together: house, children or not, etc.

These are differing wishes that can only be resolved between themselves and for themselves. As long as they don’t have the answers through each other whether they want a life together, despite the differences, they will cling to one another based on the past like prisoners, like Henry and Jules still do.

[orodrethsgeek]

So as you may have noticed, I’ve fallen a bit in love with my latest Hawke, Kellan, and the relationship he has with Orsino. As usual, @robotslenderman came up with a great idea to solve a problem I wasn’t even fully aware I had: namely, that in both my canon DA:2 playthrough and our Solas Stays! Sableverse AU, Kellan Hawke does not exist. (My DA:2 canon is Aidan Hawke; Sableverse DA:2 canon is robotslenderman’s Marian Hawke.)

Says Dusty: would it be possible for him to exist as another character?

And thus, DA:2 Companion!Kellan was born. Backstory, recruitment mission, companion quests, and fate following endgame below the cut.

Backstory:

Kellan was born in 9:06 Dragon, not long after his mother, Lady Ambrei Venturi, scandalized the nobility of Kirkwall by marrying a penniless artist from Markham named Anthony Whalen. The nobles received a second shock when Lady Ambrei’s father, Lord Venturi, upheld his daughter’s unconventional marriage and confirmed her and her future children as heirs to the Venturi name, title, and fortune (none more so than the other Venturis themselves, who expected Ambrei to be disinherited for the disgrace). A plethora of wild rumors soon filled Kirkwall, likely started by jealous relatives–Lady Ambrei and her commoner husband had never been legally married; Anthony Whalen was the bastard, half-human son of an elven prostitute; one or both of them were apostates hiding in plain sight. None of these rumors were ever substantiated, and for a while the young family was blissfully happy, even while lesser branches of the Venturis continued to scheme.

In 9:18 Dragon, Lady Ambrei gave birth to a second son, this one named Ethan. Two years later, tragedy struck. Lady Venturi disappeared under suspicious circumstances. Her body was later found, though her killer never was–but many looked to her uncle Alester, who began at once to petition the Viscount for the deed to the Venturi estate, along with various other holdings. He argued that his niece’s commoner paramour had neither a title nor any true claim to the Venturi name, and that her eldest child, a boy of fourteen, was too young to take up the role and privileges of Lord Venturi. He might well have won his suit, save for two apparent strokes of luck. The first was that Alester was himself found dead in his home late that year, assassinated by an Antivan Crow. (His children accused young Kellan Venturi of taking out the contract on his life, but few put any weight in the charge. Kellan was, as their father had himself argued, little more than a boy at the time.)

The second stroke of luck was that in 9:21 Dragon, Viscount Perrin Threnhold contended with the templar order for control of Kirkwall, and lost. The old Viscount was deposed and arrested, and the new Knight-Commander anointed a new ruler of the city: Marlowe Dumar, a previously minor nobleman who had himself married a commoner, and to whom Kellan could claim a distant relationship through his maternal grandmother. Though a naturally cautious and conciliatory man, Viscount Dumar put very little store by the inherent superiority of the nobility, or by rumors of the illegitimacy of Lady Ambrei’s marriage. Kellan petitioned for his rights to the estate, the family fortune, and the title of Lord Venturi to be upheld, and Viscount Dumar ruled in his favor. The one stipulation he made concerned the Venturi fortune. In deference of Kellan’s age, control of the family’s finances would be held in trust by his father, until Kellan reached his majority.

Despite this victory, things were not all well within the Venturi estate. Thrown into a deep depression by his wife’s death, Anthony showed no signs of recovering a year later. For the most part he kept himself locked in his bedroom, clinging to the last of Ambrei’s possessions and only occasionally remembering to take an interest in his sons or duties. Not long after Kellan won his case with the Viscount, he came home to find his father chatting animatedly to a portrait of his mother, apparently convinced it was truly her. Unsure of how to help his father but certain the slightest sign of weakness would set his relatives back on the warpath, the young Lord Venturi kept Anthony’s condition a closely guarded secret. Nor did he make any attempt to end the trusteeship of Venturi finances early, even when his father began making increasingly reckless monetary decisions. Instead, he turned to dabbling in various crimes to keep Venturi coffers full (smuggling, blackmail, and poison-making were just a few of Kellan’s favored exploits–always under various aliases, to avoid being traced back to him).

The one bright spot in the storm of tragedy and intrigue was Ethan. Kellan loved his brother fiercely, and was determined to raise him as normally as possible. He did his best to keep Ethan ignorant of his shadier enterprises and inclinations, though as Ethan grew older he did pick up on more than a few things Kellan would have preferred to keep him in the dark about. Ethan also proved to be a comfort to his father; something about the boy’s presence seemed to wake him from his fantasy world into something closer than reality.

In 9:24 Dragon, Kellan turned eighteen and finally assumed full control of the family fortune–which had, despite his best efforts, dwindled under his father’s dubious care. He told himself that was reason enough why he couldn’t give up his criminal pursuits, and it wasn’t entirely a lie. But it was also true that he enjoyed the thrill of a scheme well-done. So Lord Kellen Venturi kept his hand in the criminal game, and an eye out for any other advantage that came his way. He’d learned from a young age that it took power and guile and a certain amount of ruthlessness to survive, and he intended to do much more than that.

Recruitment:

In 9:31 Dragon, the Hawke siblings are hired to steal from a Venturi-owned warehouse and deliver the goods to someone named Cesario in a Lowtown safe-house. They’re promised a substantial reward if they prove successful, and the chance for future partnership opportunities. When they arrive at the warehouse itself, they find it not conventionally guarded at all–though there are a number of magical traps that either Hawke (if a mage) or Bethany must deactivate to proceed.

At the Lowtown safe-house, the Hawke siblings are eventually greeted by Kellan, who congratulates them on a job well-done and reveals that he’s the one who hired them to steal from one of his legitimate warehouses. He’s heard rumors about a Ferelden apostate with a solid reputation in Kirkwall’s criminal underworld, but he wanted to get the measure of them himself.

Regardless of whether Hawke or their sibling is the mage, Kellan then reveals this quest was essentially their audition, and they’ve passed. He’s looking for an apostate to tutor his brother Ethan, whose magic has recently manifested. If mage!Hawke/Bethany agrees, Kellan will become a recurring companion. He’ll also have a follow-up cutscene where he mentions that he’s heard Hawke is trying to get in on Bartrand’s Deep Roads expedition and that he’d be willing to help fund Hawke’s contribution for a share of the profits. He expresses some hesitation about going himself, but he’ll agree if pressed.

Rough Outline of Companion Quests:

Between Act I and Act II:

Regardless of whether or not Kellan is brought on the Deep Roads expedition, when Hawke returns at the end of Act I, it will be to find that Ethan’s magic was discovered and he’s been taken to the Circle. Kellan handles this badly, and there’s a brief cutscene in which Hawke will have the chance to talk with him about it. Depending on the level of friendship/rivalry he and Hawke have developed, he may confide that this isn’t over and that he won’t leave his brother in the Gallows forever. (In general, friendly Hawkes will be given more of a window into Kellan’s state of mind/plans; a rival Hawke will be kept in the dark.)

Act II:

Though he’s been able to establish a written correspondence with his brother during the three year time skip, he hasn’t yet been able to see him face-to-face. He’s finally gotten the Grand Cleric’s word that if he performs a laundry list of tasks for her/the Chantry, she’ll arrange for Kellan and Ethan to be able to meet. He asks Hawke for help with completing the tasks. (One of them possibly involves retrieving a shipment of stolen lyrium from a Darktown gang.) If Hawke agrees and the tasks are successfully completed, Kellan gets to visit his brother. Depending on how close he and Hawke are, he might invite Hawke to come meet Ethan with him, as well.

Following the completion of his personal quest, Kellan will offer to give Hawke what help he can in navigating the politics of the ruling class in Kirkwall.

If Kellan is brought into the Fade during Feynriel’s Act II quest, he might betray Hawke for the desire demon, who promises to heal his father’s broken mind and return Ethan to him. Afterwards, high friendship Hawkes will learn about Anthony’s breakdown following his wife’s death. Kellan will admit he’s worried about his father, who has been getting worse since Ethan was taken away. Hawkes with a high enough friendship have the opportunity to learn about this in a later cutscene if Kellan is not brought to the Fade/doesn’t betray Hawke.

Through ambient dialogue throughout Act II, it’s revealed that Kellan has also struck up a correspondence with the First Enchanter, who took a particular interest in Ethan’s progress as an apprentice because of how often Kellan attempted to get in touch with him when he was first taken to the Circle. As Act II progresses Kellan makes references to sending Ethan care packages, and also to covertly figuring out the First Enchanter’s favorite wine/treats/etc to send him gifts as well.

Between Act II and Act III:

Following the deaths of the Dumars, Kirkwall entered a period of de facto martial law, with Meredith all but seizing control of the city and refusing to allow a new Viscount to be appointed. Kellan, who had been reasonably close to his distant cousins, considered the position his by rights–Viscount is a hereditary title, and Kellan can trace his genealogy back to a Dumar great-grandmother. He will eventually ask Hawke to support his bid for the position, inviting them to attend a small gathering of nobles and show that he has the new Champion of Kirkwall’s support to shore up less certain nobles.

Orsino is also attending this party; high friendship Hawkes will have a chance to comment on how it seems Kellan has feelings for him. Kellan will initially deny it, but later admit that they’re right. Privately, he’ll confess to feeling conflicted about the whole situation; it’s not a politically smart move to get entangled with such a high profile mage when he’s aiming to become Viscount. As the conversation progresses, though, Kellan will resolve to keep pressing forward regardless, and to use his political power to make things better for Kirkwall mages. He won’t agree to confess his feelings to Orsino, however, even if Hawke presses him on it; he’ll say he wouldn’t want Orsino to think his support of the mage cause is contingent on Orsino sleeping with him. He’s seen too many templars take advantages of a mage’s limited ability to say no in recent years and he won’t join their number.

This prompts an optional subquest, where Hawke can choose to let Orsino know about Kellan’s feelings, so that it’s at least up to Orsino whether to pursue any sort of relationship or not. Orsino will be surprised, but admit that he’s occasionally thought Kellan’s feelings went a bit deeper than mere professional partnership. He won’t divulge to Hawke whether he shares Kellan’s feelings, but he will choose to seek Kellan out at the end of the cutscene. Kellan will later accuse Hawke of meddling, but admit that things turned out for the best.

Act III:

Kellan asks Hawke to help him compile evidence of the Chantry’s many misdeeds in Kirkwall over the last several years. He plans to use the evidence to appeal to the Divine to relieve the Gallows mages and restore Kirkwall’s civil governance. He will also mention contingency plans for getting Ethan out of the Gallows, though he doesn’t get into specifics even with high friendship Hawkes. Ambient dialogue will reveal how stressed he is over Ethan and Orsino in particular being in danger, but also his concern for the other mages in the Gallows as well. It’s clear that he’s adopted Orsino’s people as his own.

Anthony’s mental health finally takes its final plunge in Act III, and he ends up taking his life. Kellan is absolutely beside himself, blaming everyone from his long-dead great-uncle (for killing his mother and causing his father’s initial depression), to the templars who took Ethan away, and, privately, himself, for not being able to do more, for not watching him more closely. He swears that someone will pay for this and asks for Hawke’s help; regardless of Hawke’s response, he plans to go through with something ill-thought-out and drastic. Whatever Hawke’s response, Sebastian will approach them for help restraining Kellan and appealing to his better nature. If Hawke agrees, Sebastian lets them in on his plan; if not, he carries it out himself. Again, regardless, Kellan’s plans of revenge stop short when either Hawke and Sebastian or just Sebastian bring Orsino or Ethan to talk him out of it. (A Hawke who has agreed to help Sebastian will get to choose whether they should bring Orsino or Ethan; Sebastian acting alone will choose Orsino because he doesn’t think Ethan should have to see his brother this close to losing it.) Whichever one is chosen, Kellan will finally let himself be talked out of his plan.

Endgame:

During The Last Straw/Chantry boom cutscene, Kellan will protest if Hawke chooses to kill Anders. If Hawke persists regardless, Anders will tell Kellan it’s alright and ask him to focus on helping the Circle mages from this point on. Kellan will stand down, but will tell Hawke they made a mistake.

If Hawke chooses to side with the mages, Kellan will either suggest that they use Isabela’s knowledge of ships to quickly evacuate the Circle mages from the Gallows (if Isabela returned during the Act II Qunari crisis), or that they utilize the secret passage into the Gallows from Darktown to beat the templars back, bar the tower from within, and evacuate as many mages as possible through the tunnels. He, Orsino, and Ethan will all survive in a pro-mage scenario.

Kellan cannot be convinced to side with the templars, regardless of his friendship/rivalry status to Hawke. He will always choose to make a last stand with Orsino and the mages, giving Ethan and the other apprentices a chance to escape. He and Orsino will perish together in a pro-templar scenario.

DA:I:

If Kellan and Orsino survive the events of Dragon Age:2, they will appear in Skyhold once the next Divine has been chosen, present her with evidence of the Chantry’s and templars’ myriad crimes in Kirkwall, and demand reparations. They later settle in Wycome with their 30+ adopted mage babies, including Ethan.

And that’s pretty much a wrap! Feel free to also ask questions about Companion!Kellan if you have any :) also if you’ve read this whole thing, congrats and thank you XD

[glitterycrownphantom]

Background

Toby grew up with several mental disorders during his childhood, making it difficult for him to fit in with "normal people". He was constantly bullied by his classmates for his tics and was ultimately deemed unsuited for a public school surrounding, so he switched to homeschooling. While he received plenty of support from his mother and older sister Lyra, his father was nothing but a negative influence on his son. Having lost himself to alcohol, drugs and gambling, Toby's father became increasingly abusive towards his family, especially Toby.

When Toby was seventeen, he and his sister were involved in a tragic car accident that resulted in Lyra's death. Toby's symptoms worsened greatly because of this; he lost his appetite for food, became even less social than before, and slowly began to lose his memories. On the night he returned from the hospital, Toby saw the Slender Man watching him from the street. Slender Man repeatedly stalked Toby wherever he went throughout the following weeks, causing Toby to have several visual and auditory hallucinations. Concerned for her own son's safety, Toby's mother brings him to a psychiatrist to help him cope with his post-traumatic stress disorder.

The next day Toby dreams of his sister's corpse followed by an attack by the Slender Man. As Toby walked down the stairs, he began hearing voices telling him to kill his father. He eventually couldn't ignore the voices anymore and has a complete mental breakdown. After a brief struggle with his father, Toby gained the upper hand violently stabbed his father in front of his mother. In a desperate attempt to escape the police, he set the neighborhood on fire as a distraction, but was quickly surrounded by the flames. Just as he was about give into his inevitable death, the Slender Man teleports in front of him and saves him. Two weeks later, Toby's mother listened to a news story about the murders of several teenagers. The main suspect is Toby due to one of his hatchet's being found at the crime scene. This marked the moment Toby officially became a Proxy of Slender Man.

Personality

Though Toby usually has an up-beat and hyper personality, he can be very sarcastic at times and he will sometimes lose control of his emotions due to his bipolar disorder. He can change from being very emotional to being angry or happy in an instant, making it very difficult to talk to him at times. Despite this, he can be friendly to certain people and he is a natural born trouble-maker.

Problems with the community

Masky, Hoodie, and Toby

Brian Thomas (Actor Brian Haight)

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Be aware this section contains spoilers:

This is a point of confusion in the mythos that often is question without truly understand who Masky and Hoodie are. Ticci-Toby is, in his own story, a proxy. Masky and Hoodie, however, are not proxies, and have never come into contact with Slender Man. The main antagonist of MarbleHornets is The Operator, a similar character to Slender Man with several fundamental aspects altered. The Operator does not use proxies, and neither Masky nor Hoodie are ever seen trying to help it. The opposite is true, actually, as they are constantly trying to impede Alex, who is also trying to destroy The Operator, but through a different method than they are.

Additionally, Hoodie and Masky are the alternate personas of Brian Thomas and Tim Wright. By the end of MarbleHornets, Brian is dead, and Tim has cast off his personality shifts. Neither have had control of their shifts, do not show any ability to remember what has happened, and Tim specifically does everything both as Masky and as himself to stop The Operator the best he can. By the end of the series, Tim and Hoodie were enemies, and Hoodie was ultimately killed by Tim and then revealed to be Brian.

Ticci-Toby has never existed in the MarbleHornets universe, and therefore would never interact with either Tim Wright nor Brian Thomas. Furthermore, Masky and Hoodie are typically depicted as individuals with a similar build to Toby, which is false as both are bulkier men with a heavier set. Finally, MarbleHornets states it exists in its own continuity, meaning it would be impossible for Ticci-Toby to meet either Brian or Tim, let alone the fact that Brian is dead and Tim is missing.

One other piece of confusion is part of the Creepypasta World theory, which stipulates all creepypasta characters actually exist in one singular universe. While most creepypasta authors do not accept this, Brian and Tim still wouldn't be part of it even if it were true. This is because Hoody and Masky are not creepypasta. By definition, a creepypasta is essentially an internet horror story, whereas Hoody and Masky were characters created for a YouTube show. They were never written in a story prior to this, and are copyrighted characters just like Toby, so they cannot be written without permission from Troy Wagner, Joseph DeLage, and Tim Sutton. Any creepypasta stories involving Brian and Hoody are not only non-canon, but totally fake, just like any spinoff creepypasta of Ticci-Toby.

Is Toby Canon?

This is a point of confusion for most people in the Toby fandom, which mainly stems from confusion as to how Slender Man canon works.

A Slender Man story is typically regarded as canon or not on an individual basis, but as a mythos overall, stories that are canon are typically only accepted as canon once the mythos has come to accept it as either a fundamental aspect of the Slender Man, or the world Slender Man embodies. Furthermore, most works involving characters interacting with Slender Man often have very limited storytelling, and quickly die out. From a surgist point of view, Toby would be an unacceptable part of the mythos, as Surgists do not tend to believe in the concept of proxies as a canon aspect.

One major problem is that Slender Man is attributed under a creative commons, allowing for use of him in everything save for commercial products that are released without the permission of Eric "Victor Surge" Knudsen. Ticci-Toby, however is a copyrighted character belonging to Kastoway, who used Toby in only one story and has distanced himself from his creation altogether. As such, Toby is a dropped concept, and is non-canon. He exists in only one story and will not be used in any further stories.

Kastoway and his creation

On the Ticci-Toby Deviantart page created by author Kastoway, comments have been disabled.

On Friday, December 14th, 2014, Kastoway wrote the following after a series of arguments regarding Toby being shipped with other Creepypasta characters. The post was titled "Creepypasta Fandom, Please Read"

Hello guys,Due to recent events I feel the need to clarify a few things.A lot of people really have been white knighting for me, which I understand is in attempt to help me out and defend me in a situation in which I wouldn't defend myself but you really don't need to do that.I know in the past I have asked people not to draw or write anything involving Toby which featured him being shipped with anyone other than Clockwork but I know now that it's really pointless to ask something like that.A lot of people have respected what I am and am not comfortable with and some people haven't. That's fine, I don't really find it to be important anymore, it's really just not worth the effort in trying to fight back against stuff like that and I guess I really just don't care much anymore.I'm done with the Creepypasta fandom. I've been done with it for a while and with Toby's copyrights in place I plan on not looking back on it or bothering with it unless it involves legal violation of copyright.Please don't feel inclined to defend me against people shipping Toby with other characters or OCs or anything like that, it's fine. And not to mention people are getting hurt because some others tend to take it too far.Bashing on someone's OC is a big nono. Please do not do that it's very hurtful towards the creator.Bashing and Constructive criticism are two very different things and have two very different outcomes.I never wanted to ultimately hurt anyone, I just thought that in the past that by putting up boundaries with my character I'd feel more comfortable with my place in the fandom but I was wrong and I am 100% not afraid to admit that.This is my fault. It is and I am truly sorry that I caused so much trouble, please know that it wasn't intended.From this point on please don't attack anyone about shipping with Toby or anything like that.Just leave it be, okay?And to anyone who has been hurt in the process please know that I truly am sorry. The fact that one little thing went against something I didn't like doesn't mean that it's right for you to be hurt, and I truly hope that everything gets better for you.I wasn't prepared for my character to become popular on the internet. I really wasn't.I never thought it would happen and I'm still not good at dealing with it. In fact I suck at it, it's true.Anyone who dislikes me has one reason or another to feel that way about me and that's fine. As I've said before I don't ask anyone to think of me any certain way so hate me if that's what you feel, just know that I'm sorry for what I've done and if I've ever done anything to personally offend you or anything like that and you'd like to confront me about it please do so so that I can apologize to you directly, because I want you all to understand that I'm not just playing nice, I mean it when I say I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused.I don't want to come on Deviantart and worry about people hating me. I don't want to start or continue conflicts, I just want it all to be water under the bridge.So all and all--Thank you and I'm sorry. I really am.

Kastoway has tended to refuse to answer questions regarding Ticci-Toby, with reasoning not being directly cited, but possibly being due to receiving the same questions over and over, and possibly in response to any flame wars that happened due to the above post.

The Slender Man Connection (SMC) wiki has hosted an article regarding Toby since May 2014, and has repeatedly had to delete or redact comments worshiping Toby. These include worshiping Toby's aspects, wanting to be in a relationship with Toby, believing Toby to be real or, at the very least, based on a real person, wishing to be in a romantic relationship with Toby, idolizing his murderous behavior, and a myriad of other problems. On April 29th, 2016, Kastoway wrote the following on a blog post on Deviantart titled "What the F---". The beginning portion of the blog was added after Kastoway had posted a comment on this wiki which will be posted after this blog.

EDIT:// Hey guys, sorry again for how hostile I sounded in this journal, I usually try not to use such a large amount of cursing and stuff like that, I was in a really infuriated state so I let all of that slip. ANYWAY the mods on the wiki have featured my comment as a discussion and edited to wiki in order to give the issue some recognition, which I am incredibly thankful for! Hopefully that helps cut this crap down, although I know there will always be those hard-headed people who will refuse to accept the fact that he's not real. Anyways, sorry about that. I'd like to go back to avoiding the subject of Ticci-Toby from here on out.Thanks guysI know I said I'd like to avoid this topic to the best of my ability but I feel like straight up pointing this out because I have no tolerance for this asinine bulls---. Sure it's all fun and games until another person gets hurt because some crazy f---ed up kid thinks they're gonna please some made up f---ing character by harming someone else again.The comments on this are absolutely ridiculous.I'm saying this here and now, and I'm going to make a comment there linking back to this journal so people know that I'm the actual person who wrote the god damn story: Ticci-Toby is 100% fictional, he is made up, I am f---ing positive because I made him up. His sole purpose was for my entertainment because I like horror and I wanted to create a scary story that ended up actually getting unexpected amounts of attention. He is not real, he not based off of a real person or an urban legend, you have not seen him with your own eyes because he is FAKE. Do NOT take this and make another f---ing sick move like those girls who stabbed their friend over Slenderman, do not do this to me, do not do this to anyone. Claiming that he's real is taking an imaginary thing meant to do nothing but take the form of a scary story for entertainment purposes and making it a real life issue that actually affects real life people. I'm horrified to see people say this, I don't know what I'd do if this were the cause of something awful because of some f---ed up prepubescent s---head hurting someone over something I made.I know I sound aggressive and rude but that's because I am furious. I am not going to take lightly to this subject, I'm not playing games, this is an issue and I'm not going to sit back and let people take something made up to a harmful realistic magnitude.To the people who think that Ticci-Toby or any horror character, creepy pasta or not is real; get your f---ing head on straight, don't be a god damn idiot.

(Minimally edited to censor curses, Original blog link above, can be read uncensored on Deviantart)

In response, Kastoway also posted the following under the username "Bonejags" on the comment section of this article (Link to uncensored comment):

I cannot believe the bulls--- that I am seeing in these comments. I cannot believe that there is an actual debate over whether or not Ticci-Toby is real. I made this account to announce that no, he is not real. How do I know? Because I'm the one who made him the hell up. I'm Kastoway from deviantart, the one that's credited in the wiki for writing the story. If you don't believe me here's a link to a journal about this subject that's on my account

http://kastoway.deviantart.com/journal/What-the-f----599845215

So, once again, I'm going to say it. Ticci-Toby is 100% FICTIONAL. As in he is NOT REAL. So no, to those saying that they've seen him with their own eyes, you haven't, there's nothing to see because he doesn't exist. He's not based on a real person nor an urban legend, he is a character I made up because I wanted to write a scary story for my own entertainment. I had no clue that it would get this amount of attention, and that's why handling the subject has been so rough for me.I apologize if I sound harsh but I have no tolerance for this bulls---. The amount of people who think that he's real is absolutely obscene, and I can't bare to think that another incident similar to the Slenderman Stabbings is possible because of something I created for fun. Please do not let that happen and take this seriously. It's one thing to enjoy a horror story, it's another thing to get joy from thinking that fictional psychopaths are real and that you're able to interact with them. They're fake and quite frankly I don't care how hearing that affects you, if you're heartbroken to hear that a crazy f---ing murderer isn't real then there is something wrong with and what you need is help and a taste of reality.

(Edited minimally to censor curses. Original unedited comment link above, and will remain unedited for record).

Since then, all comments regarding worshiping Toby or trying to imply he is real have been either heavily edited or deleted entirely. Kastoway himself does not wish to speak about Ticci-Toby further.

UPDATE: For some time, Kastoway's Deviangtart Blogs have been 404ed, possibly indicating they were deleted by Kastoway, but for unknown reasons. Unfortunately, the only current evidence of their existence is the above transcripts of the blogs.