#but she just seen too many good people die to be naive enough to assume she can get there without uh lots of violence and suffering

[rosykims]

me pleading with astarion through the deluge of his act 1 disapproval like please i swear bro viera is evil yeah yeah i know shes super chill to everyone she encounters and is honest to a fault but. no, lissten, jsust listen hang on. shes LAWFUL evil man it still counts !!!! i know shes loyal and selfless to her allies and refuses to harm animals or children and will actively intervene on children's behalf BRO STOTP LAUGHIGN PLEASE I SWEAR and and um i know she respects ur autonomy nd doesnt let u ascend and has done literall.y all of the good options so by game mechanics shes indistinguishable to a hero character bbt. but i swear bro. bro i sw. where are you going

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

if I can never give you peace — zero || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Also available on Ao3.

Word count (chapter): 5.8k

Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers, heavy on angst, slow burn, eventual smut

Warnings & Tags (chapter): Descriptions of Violence, Tension, Dehumanization and general poor treatment of hybrids

A/N: So I have two modes and those are tooth-rotting fluff and angst feast. This is... not fluff. I hope you’ll enjoy this first installment and introduction to the series, and I will see you soon for the next one!

Next

Your eyes follow Jungkook’s every step as he walks through the crowd and enters the cage that serves as a ring. He doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re watching. You’re always watching. You’re standing in your usual corner, from where you make sure everything goes smoothly. Two tall, muscular men stand on either side of you. They look like they’re your bodyguards, but really, they’re here to handle him if he tries to do something. To everyone in the room but the two of you, this looks like every other fight night since the very first time he came to the Circle.

You’re too far for him to smell you, especially over the crowd of excited, sweaty men, but if he did, he’s sure he would pick up on the bitter scent of anxiety, would hear your heart beating a little too fast. He’d say you’re lucky the guards aren’t hybrids, but he knows that’s not the case. You never count on luck. Everybody knows that. That’s what makes you so good at your job. That’s what might just save his life.

He glances at you, finds your eyes glued on him, and gives you a smirk, which reveals his abnormally pointy teeth for a rabbit hybrid. It’s been over a year since they’ve been sharpened for him, to make him look more threatening. You’re used to them, but he still sees you swallow. For the first time he wonders, vaguely, if you had any say in that. You’re the one he meets with nowadays, but you’re not his owner, after all.

Your eyes leave him to look at his opponent. The man’s taller and has broad shoulders, he seems to have some training based on his on-guard position, and he’s older than him. You couldn’t find many informations on him, but based on his attributes, he’s probably some kind of dog hybrid.

You both know he doesn’t stand a chance.

“On my left,” the announcer roars, “some fresh meat! I give you… Jin!”

There are enthusiastic shouts, and the man shoots nervous glances around him at the crowd all around him. It’s clear that he isn’t used to that type of setting, and you feel an unexpected wave a guilt in your chest. He’s going to get destroyed tonight, you’re sure of it. You’re the one who suggested that Jungkook should fight a newbie, for the show. You don’t regret your decision, but you don’t feel good about it either.

“And on my right! The man who needs no introduction, who has won thirty! Two! Fights in a row, I give you… Jungkook!”

The crowd goes hysterical, and the hybrid facing him winces again. If he thought he had chance before that, it’s clear that he doesn’t anymore. You wonder if he’d heard about Jungkook, if his owners had prepared him well enough, if whoever owned him was betting against him. You wonder if he’d just been told he would be fighting a rabbit hybrid and assumed he would be fine.

Jungkook’s long ears are flat against his head, carefully tucked under a headband, and without those, he doesn’t look like a rabbit hybrid, too tall and broad-shouldered. Then again, he had never really been your typical rabbit hybrid.

Truth was, you had been relieved when you had been assigned to working for the daughter of Mr. Xanders. Your whole life, you had known you would end up here. Your dad had worked for the Family since before your birth, and though it was clear your mom disapproved, she had never held any illusion that you would escape it. If anything, you were the sacrifice, a way of making sure your siblings wouldn’t be forced to work for the most powerful crime family in town. That was, if you did good enough.

Getting assigned to the girl who was nicknamed “the Princess” was both a blessing and a curse. It meant you got to stay away from most of the illegal stuff, as the girl was notoriously sheltered from all of that by her father. However, it also meant that you had to basically babysit the spoiled seventeen years old, despite her being only a few years younger than you. You had dressed as professionally and sternly as you could, adorning yourself in a dark woman’s suit, but she hadn’t seemed impressed.

That was how you found yourself here, at an auction for rare hybrids. You thought the whole thing was grim — oh, how naive you had to be back then, to think this was bad — but you had obeyed orders without batting an eye. You had to do this right, and this was a pretty easy job, after all.

You gritted your teeth silently as various hybrids were brought on stage, exhibited and bought, one by one. The status of hybrids was a complicated subject in the country, always had been, but you had grown up in a poor area, where a lot of hybrids lived freely, and the idea of owning what you knew to be a person made you sick to your stomach. At least the Princess hadn’t said a word the whole time you’d been there, and you had hopes that you would leave without — God — buying someone.

Naive. So damn naive.

“I want this one,” the girl had announced decidedly, pointing at the stage with a movement of her chin.

Shit.

You looked at the stage. There, the auctioneer was highly praising the hybrid who had last been brought on stage. A surprisingly tall and muscular rabbit hybrid, with fluffy black hair and long ears falling on either side of his head. He was shaking slightly, sending terrified looks around him, and your heart tightened in your chest.

Naive and soft.

“Are you sure?” you asked, and the girl rolled her eyes.

“Do your job. Get him for me.”

Numbers flashed in your mind, the exact amount of money you were allowed to spend clear as day. It made you feel a little better, for a second. This was what you were good with; numbers, facts, informations. If you thought of the hybrid as just that — a number,  an element to compose with — you should be able to do what you were supposed to do. Do your damn job, and ensure your little brother never ever had to work here, because they wouldn’t be as kind to him.

You took a deep breath, and, after a few people had already considerably raised the price, you made your bid.

Jungkook walks to the center of the ring, arms raised high. He’s good at giving a show, good at most things, actually. He looks good here, confident, knowing exactly what he’s worth, and he’s nothing like what he was that first day. There is absolutely no fear on his face as he fists the air and people shout for him. Instead, he seems to be positively thriving on the attention he’s getting.

He’s a favorite here, because he always gives people what they came for. He makes the fight last, makes it theatrical, with twists and impressive moves. It’s been a while since he’s struggled in a fight, really struggled, which has made it easier. You recognize you’ve played your part in that. You have your word to say when picking his opponents, and you don’t want him to— well, to die, or to be too badly injured.

You know it’s not much. You know no matter what you tell yourself, that’s not protecting him. You know you should have acted a lot earlier.

But you didn’t.

They gave you Jungkook as soon as the payment was confirmed, which didn’t take long. People were fidgeting in the room, careful not to stare too long at the Princess. They knew who she was, of course. The bodyguards and your ghostly presence, one step behind her, did not do anything to soothe their nerves. No one actually knew you back then. You hadn’t earned your reputation of efficiency, no one had called you a cold-hearted bitch yet, though that would pretty much become your identifier, but you were still somewhat unnerving, with your stillness and your all black attire.

Which was why you never tried to add color to it.

The Princess seemed to be in her element, not bothered by the silence and people’s obvious fear of her, even for a second. Instead, she was watching her acquisition. The hybrid — Jungkook, you remembered, because you’d heard his name after winning the auction — was staring at the floor, stealing glances at her every once in a while, before quickly looking away again. He was clearly shy, and terrified, and it looked like the Princess liked that.

When they handed the leash to her, she was quick to clip it on his collar, and you held back your disgust. Your mind went to Mark, a kind golden retriever hybrid you had grown up with, and the idea of him being collared like that almost made you retch.

But, of course, none of that could be seen on your face. You had been told that you had the perfect poker face, unreadable at all times. In moments like this, it was a true blessing.

“Hello, Jungkook, I’m Anna, and I’m your new owner. I’m going to take good care of you.”

Then Jungkook looked up at her, briefly, and an adorable smile curved his lips.

You knew then that this could only end in pain and heartbreak.

Once Jungkook is done, he turns to face Jin. The other hybrid looks like he wants to run away, but even if he tried it, he’d be pushed right back in. So he does the smart thing, and prepares himself for the fight, lifting his hands to protect himself. Jungkook does the same thing. There is a brief moment of silence, everyone bracing themselves for what is to come. Despite his earlier display, Jungkook is deathly calm now, every muscle in his body ready for action.

The second the bell rings, Jungkook is moving, so fast he’s almost blurry, and you have to avert your eyes when his fist connects with the other hybrid’s chest.

This all feels like it could have been avoided.

A relationship quickly developed between the shy bunny and the Princess. You didn’t say anything about it; that wasn’t what you were here for. A baby-sitter, sure, but not a chaperone. Anyway, it seemed like Mr. Xanders wasn’t too worried about that, and his daughter was free to do whatever she wanted as long as she didn’t get pregnant. You supposed a hybrid was the perfect choice for that, with how rare it was for them to have children with a human. It could happen, of course, but it was highly unlikely without medical assistance.

Still, you weren’t sure you liked the relationship all that much. It just felt like Anna had so much power over him. He was a couple of years older than her, since selling hybrids under eighteen was technically illegal, but it was clear from the very beginning that he had been sheltered and didn’t have much experience in— well, in any areas. A sickening feeling told you that had probably been done on purpose by the people who had raised him. You were well aware of what rabbit hybrids were usually bought for.

You watched, silently, as they got close, as Anna’s hands started to easily find Jungkook’s, as Jungkook started to rest his head on her shoulder, to scent her, as he fell in love with her. Today, maybe you would have been annoyed at the sight, annoyed by his innocence, but back then, it only made you sad.

You were also there to see Anna grow bored of him. It didn’t even take her that long, no more than a couple of months.

When she insisted on going to another hybrid auction, and asked you to bid on someone else, you knew that it was over.

“Get him to fight,” Mr. Xanders told you dismissively at a meeting you had with him. “I want the money he cost me back.”

“He’s a rabbit hybrid,” you had said, frowning. “He’s not exactly the fighting type.”

“I didn’t tell you to make him win,” he scoffed. “I don’t care if you have to bet against him. Get my money back. After that, I don’t care what you do with him.”

You didn’t realize then that that was a ‘promotion’, and that this meant you would start working in illegal settings. All you knew was the painful weight in your chest at the idea of sending Jungkook to his death. You had kept away from him, not trying to create any bonds with him, but he smiled politely and kindly when he saw you.

God, he was in love with Anna. You were sure he had noticed her losing interest in him, but you also believed he held out hope. This could— This would probably be crushing for him.

So you took the matter into your own hands. You didn’t just sign him up for an upcoming fight, but you also found him a trainer, the best you could.

“Does Anna want me to learn how to fight?” he had asked you, big brown eyes looking at you, when you had told him about the training. “So I can be her bodyguard?”

“My orders don’t come from Anna,” you’d answered, trying to stay as distant as possible.

“But will she— Do you think she’ll like me again, if I learn to fight?”

No. You thought Anna had gotten everything she wanted from him.

“I don’t know,” you had answered. You couldn’t. You couldn’t do it.

The first fight had been brutal. Devastating, in fact. Jungkook had been training, and you’d been told he was good at what he was doing, but, as a newbie, he’d been sent against an expert fighter — “for the show”, you’d heard, the exact same thing you would use as well, years later —, and you were later told he was lucky he’d made it out alive.

You stayed next to him in the hospital room. As a hybrid, he healed quickly, but he still looked terrible, body marred with black and blue, lip busted, and black eyes. When he woke up, he looked around the room, every movement he made clearly painful, and you knew, at his expression, that there was only one thing he thought about in that moment.

Anna wasn’t there.

You would never forget the look he gave you then. The way he set his jaw, the way something hardened in his eyes.

“Get out,” he had said, and you were pretty sure he had meant for it to sound aggressive, but he wasn’t good at it yet, so it was more pleading.

You had gotten up, made a move to— to pat his shoulder, to do something, but you had refrained and your hand had fallen down to your side.

“I’m sorry,” you had said, and you had left him alone in there, with his broken hopes and heart.

That night was the first and last time you considered leaving your job.

But there was no quitting, where you worked.

In the ring, of course, Jungkook is good. He leaves an opening for the guy to place a few punches, ones that can’t hurt him too much. The crowd is delirious, bets are being placed. There’s a rumor that Jungkook was injured at the last fight so tonight could be the night where he loses his title, couldn’t it? The first round is coming to an end, and he doesn’t seem to have done much so, surely, he’s not going to be able to end that guy by the third, like he usually does — and if he does, hey, at least they’ll have had one hell of a show.

The three rounds thing is something you asked him to do after an organizer told you people needed that to feel they had gotten their money’s worth. You had told Jungkook, and he’d growled an answer, but he had never won in less than that since. For all his obvious hatred of you, the organization, and everything that surrounded him, he didn’t actively oppose you most of the time. He had tried to run away, twice, but when those attempts had failed, he had seemed to realize that it was just easier to go with the flow.

When the second round starts, though, he goes wild. His bare feet are light on the floor,  his fists quick and precise. He doesn’t leave anything to luck either. Every punch lands exactly where he wants it to, when he wants it to. He dodges his opponent’s attacks easily, and he sees in his eyes the moment when the man realizes that he’s not winning this. He sees confidence turn into surprise, then into fear, and it only makes him want blood.

His right hook hits the man in the jaw with all the power he can put into it, and this time you don’t wince. You’ve gotten used to the violence now — it always takes you a while — and you’re mostly impressed at how good Jungkook is.

But that’s exactly why you’re in this situation, isn’t it?

“We should put him down,” Mr. Xanders said, with the exact same dismissive tone he had used years ago to tell you to make Jungkook fight, and you looked at him in disbelief. Surely, surely, he didn’t mean—

“I really disapprove of that solution, dad,” Anna said, shaking her head, and you realized he did.

You had been surprised by Anna’s presence, when you had walked into the office. You hadn’t worked for her in a long time, having graduated to far worse things. You had served your purpose, you supposed, made yourself practically indispensable when it came to the organizing of the Family’s business, as you knew the workings of the Family in and out, both legal and… less legal aspects. No one had ever said anything about your siblings joining.

“He attacked someone,” her father simply shrugged.

“If I may, Mr. X, it was after a fight and the man was being really aggressive after he lost the money he’d bet against—”

“I don’t care,” he said, waving his hand like you were just an annoying fly. “He attacked a human. We can’t have our hybrids doing that, otherwise it will just be chaos. You’re smart enough to know that.”

You swallowed. Something inside you was screaming. You had long shut down any form of moral compass, but it seemed like Jungkook always awoke the last remnants of it. You were pretty sure he despised you now, and you didn’t blame him for it. But, just like what you’d thought when Anna had bought him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this just wasn’t right.

“I understand, sir.”

“That’s a horrible thing you’re doing, dad,” Anna insisted. “I thought you’d try to at least reason with him, (Y/N).”

That wasn’t your job. You knew when your opinion was asked on those things, and now was not one of those times. You also knew that you hated that she called you by your first name, like the two of you were friends, and you didn’t say anything about that either.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Mr. Xanders said warmly, like he had just refused to buy her an expensive toy, and not condemned a man to death. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

Anna sighed and rolled her eyes, and you assumed she’d probably stay mad at him for a while. But not too long.

Your heart was beating so loud in your chest you barely heard Mr. Xanders dismissing you, and you were relieved to be left alone when you walked out. There was only one thing you wanted to be thinking about now.

How were you going to save Jungkook’s life?

Jin hits the floor and doesn’t get up. It’s not an actual knock-out, because he’s still moving around, but Jungkook doubts he’ll even try to get back on his feet. The guy seems to be smart, he probably realizes that that would be suicide. Another minute with him on the ring? Nah. That would be a really, really stupid thing to do. Jungkook’s knuckles are bleeding — he doesn’t think they’ve been intact once in the four years he’s been fighting — and he’s pretty much unstoppable, right now.

He lets the referee grab his arm and lift it in the air as the crowd screams. They’re particularly loud tonight, because he won in two rounds. It’s not really a surprise when they force the entrance of the cage, flooding it, and Jungkook looks for you, almost instinctively. When he finds you, your eyes are on your phone. You look like you couldn’t care less about what’s happening around you, and he knows you do genuinely dislike the fights. You’ve never made it a secret. You’ve never taken care of the other hybrids owned by the family who participate, either. He doesn’t know if he’s your burden, or if you’re the one who chooses to still do that. Before, he wouldn’t have doubted it. Now… He’s not so sure.

Your eyes flicker up to his for a second, and you nod, imperceptibly. Your heart is probably beating as loud as his right now, though for different reasons.

Jungkook examines you, takes in how out of place you are in that environment, immaculately dressed, small glasses on your nose, hair pulled back, and lets himself be amused by it, one last time.

And then he’s gone.

You only visited Jungkook when there was about to be a fight, and it was clear he really didn’t like it when you showed up. You always seemed to be interrupting him, whether it was a training session or a work-out. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him do something other than those two things. You didn’t know if he had anything else.

You brought some food from a restaurant he liked, as you usually did, and got some things for the guards who would be around. That wasn’t as usual, but you had done it before, so hopefully it wouldn’t make anyone suspicious and it would allow you to have some privacy with Jungkook.

He sat down opposite from you, immediately diving into the food you’d brought, and you watched silently. His shoulders were tense, never completely down but, though he would hate to admit it, he was more relaxed around you than around anyone else. It said a lot about his life, about how desperate he was for any form of companionship, that the way you told him about his opponents almost made him feel like you cared about him. It said a lot that your presence comforted him, and it was pretty pathetic, if you asked him.

“So, who am I fighting?” he asked while eating. He never bothered with his manners when he was around you.

“A newbie,” you said. “Some fighting training from what I’ve gathered, but he shouldn’t be an issue.”

He growled. The sound was unnatural for a rabbit hybrid, but he had mastered it over the years. It was a good way of intimidating people.

“Really? I thought I told you I wanted a challenge.”

You didn’t reply immediately, and that made him look up at you. When he did, you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, hesitant. That was completely out of character. Then, you made up your mind, and your expression turned back to the unreadable one he was so familiar with.

“Keep eating, and don’t raise your voice” you ordered.

He lifted an eyebrow. Normally, he would have done something like folding his arms and waited for more, in a defiant attitude, but this was you. You would never do something like that just to assert your power over him. He hated your guts, but that was one thing he could say about you.

“Mr. X is going to have you killed because you attacked that man at your last fight.”

There. Direct, to the point, not a useless word — though you couldn’t bring yourself to use the words “put you down”. Jungkook froze for a half a second, than resumed his eating, albeit slower than before.

“It was all good as long as long as I brought him money, but he doesn’t want any trouble for it, huh?”

His voice was bitter and low, barely more than a rumble. You were confident no one was paying attention to you, since the guards ate in another part of the house and no one cared about what you were saying. They could see you through the picture window, but they couldn’t read lips. Still, you lowered your voice as well.

“Win your next fight in two rounds,” you said, instead of answering him.

He shot you a dirty glance.

“Do you really think that’s what I—”

“That should get the crowd to lose their mind,” you continued. You had gone through all the possibilities in your mind, over and over again. This was the one that was the safest for you and your family, while giving Jungkook a reasonable chance of survival. “When that happens, you’ll use the hysteria to leave through your opponent’s entrance.”

This got his attention, and he stopped trying to interrupt you, finally focusing on your words.

“I can probably get you somewhere between five and ten minutes before everyone finds out you’re missing.”

He scoffed.

“That’s very generous of you.”

“I also won’t look too hard for you,” you added, because you would obviously be in charge of that as well. “So as long as you don’t do a terrible job hiding, we probably won’t find you. Stay away from hotels, and don’t get noticed.”

Jungkook stayed silent for a while. He didn’t look at you, jaw set, and you were pretty sure he was weighing the pros and cons of your plan.

“I don’t know if there’ll be another chance,” you told him truthfully. “They want you gone after the fight.”

The silence went on a little longer, before Jungkook spoke again.

“Anna’s said yes to that?”

You didn’t miss the way his voice faltered on her name. You didn’t think he had spoken to her in years, but he still had a soft spot for her, and being reminded of it always made you sad. You had accepted, a long time ago, that life wasn’t fair, but that was particularly true when it came to him. None of what had happened to him was fair. The shy boy with the wide eyes you’d helped buy at the auction deserved better. You didn’t, probably deserved every single bad thing that had happened to you, but for him, you wished you had done something — anything — differently. So you wouldn’t be faced with a jaded, cynical version of that boy right now.

“She opposed it, but her father is still going through with it.”

“So she didn’t oppose it much.”

You didn’t answer that. It was true, and you both knew it.

You glanced at your watch. Your time here was almost over, and you had a lot of responsibilities.

“Will you do it?”

Jungkook glanced at you, eyes wary.

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth? You could just do that so you could have me killed and say I tried to escape.”

You shook your head, almost amused by the possibility.

“I would gain nothing from doing that, and if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t go about it that way. Will you do it?”

This time, he nodded. He didn’t trust you, but he thought you were telling the truth on this.  So following your plan would be just as well.

“Good. I’ll see you for the fight.”

This would have been a good moment to wish him good luck, probably, but you didn’t do luck, so you didn’t say anything. You gave him a quick nod, gathered your things, and then you were out.

You didn’t think to say goodbye.

“We’ll get him when the crowd’s dispersed,” one of the bodyguards says, and you hum noncommittally in response, eyes on your phone.

Moron.

If these two were the ones you usually work with, they would know that your usual protocol is to go get Jungkook as soon as the referee’s lifted his hand up. That way, you can get him out as quickly as possible and you don’t have to worry about him getting mobbed. But you’ve changed your team the day Mr. Xanders asked you to ‘put Jungkook down’, so they have no idea. It’s been a week since then, which shouldn’t make it too suspicious. Hopefully.

When the crowd does move enough to see what’s going on in the cage — three minutes — one of the two men says, voice worried, “Hey, can you see him?”

Your head snaps up and your eyes scan the room. You’re relieved to see that Jungkook’s nowhere in sight.

“Where is he?” you ask urgently, and the men seem to shrink under your glare, exchanging worried glances. You roll your eyes and sigh. This may be your plan, but they’re still acting incompetent. Which is good for you, sure, but the perfectionist in you is annoyed.

“You two should pray he’s in the changing room,” you spit out as you march towards it. It takes some struggle, because the crowd isn’t exactly calming down, but it’s not too long.

Of course, Jungkook isn’t in the changing room. It was a bad idea to go look there anyway — usually you would probably have already informed everyone that he had disappeared — but these two don’t seem to realize that.

“Go search the fighting room,” you order, “make sure you haven’t missed anything. Then check the surroundings. I’ll stay there. Let me know if you find something.”

They practically run out, and you allow yourself to sit down. This isn’t even dangerous yet. If Jungkook’s done that part correctly, he should already be too far for them to find him. As far as you’re concerned, you’ve bought him — you check your watch — seven minutes. But even if you don’t doubt him, you still feel terror at the idea they could catch him. You don’t know what would happen then. You don’t want to think about it.

The seconds tick by. It’s been almost exactly ten minutes when your phone rings.

“Hello, Miss—”

“Do you have him?” you bark.

There’s a silence.

“I want an answer!” you snap.

“No. I’m sorry. We’ve lost him.”

You hang up immediately and start to dial another number to let people know Jungkook’s missing.

But, before you actually call, you let out a brief sigh of relief.

This just might work.

You get home late the following night. When you do, you’re absolutely exhausted. You’ve had a terrible day, unable to sleep a wink, and you got thoroughly chewed out over Jungkook going missing. You think Mr. X was suspicious of you, because you basically don’t fuck up, ever, but then Anna started to wax poetics about how “Jungkook was a soul who wanted to live”, and you don’t think he bought it, but it at least got his mind off of you.

You doubt he’d get you killed over that, it just isn’t worth it and you’re pretty valuable, but it would be much better if he didn’t think about it too much.

You’ve organized the searches, pretty sloppily in your own opinion. Of course, it’s possible that they could find him, but if Jungkoook does his part, everything should be okay.

You remove your shoes with a groan when you walk in. You usually never regret wearing heels, thankful for the centimeters they help you gain, but tonight you definitely do. Keeping them on for two days was not how they had been intended to be used.

Once they’re off your feet, you painfully walk to your kitchen. All you want to do is to make yourself a cup of tea before going to bed, but you stop yourself before grabbing your kettle.

Something feels— off. You’re probably the only person who could notice it, because you’re  so obsessive with everything that’s in your home, but you just can’t miss it. It’s not much, just some items that aren’t where they should be, or that were moved a little to the side.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you hesitantly grab a knife from your kitchen drawer. You don’t think that would do anything, if someone was in your apartment right now, because you can’t fight and, considering the people you work for, you’re pretty sure if someone wanted to kill you they would, but it makes you feel better.

You make your way through the living-room slowly, heart hammering in your chest. You check the bathroom, first. No one’s in there, but it’s clear that whoever was there used it as well. He didn’t put your toothpaste back where it belonged.

That only leaves your room. You walk in, carefully, to find it empty. Your bed’s done, though not exactly how you do it, and that confuses you. At least until your eyes find the necklace that’s on your bedside table.

It’s the identifying tag Jungkook wore around his neck for fights. You reach out for it, in disbelief, and that only confirms what you thought.

A laugh bubbles in your throat, and you just can’t hold it in. It escapes your lips, breaking the silence that always reigns in your apartment.

Here. He was here, in the eye of the storm, while everyone was looking for him. You have no idea where he is now, but this makes you feel like he’ll be fine. Clearly, he is a smart man and he has resources.

You fall to the ground, lean against your bed, holding the tag in your hand. You give yourself a second. That’s more than you usually get. It’s a second to close your eyes and feel grateful and happy about what happened, a second to think that perhaps not everything is dark and terrible in the world.

A second, because Jungkook made it out.

And then, you open your eyes, and you come back to your reality, which is that you’ll be working for the family tomorrow, and the day after that, and probably for the rest of your life. There’s no out for you. No hope.

But at least Jungkook should be fine. You’ll never know about it, because if he is, then you’ll never hear about him again.

If you ever do, it will only mean bad news.

Next

Thank you for reading! I hope you’ve enjoyed this first chapter and feel free to let me know if you would like to be tagged for future ones!

[morganas-pendragons]

Goodbye For Now | Din Djarin

I had a dream the same day this aired that incorporated Goodbye by Avril Lavigne... and yeah, this was born. I put a lot of my own experiences into this fic. It’s very personal. Regardless of that, I hope you enjoy! 

tag: @earthtokace​ / @kyber-queen​ / @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ 

This is literally the first fic in years I’ve used Y/N and it’s just one line for the fic, and I think it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written on Tumblr. 

Word count: 5.1k OOPS 

After

In the quietness of a little room in the back of an inn on Nevarro, the question asked by a grieving Din Djarin rolls around in your mind. You hadn’t been able to give him an immediate answer. It was too fresh. Too heavy. 

What’s the hardest part about letting go?

As The Mandalorian sleeps fitfully behind you with his arm wound tightly enough around your waist to ensure you do not disappear in his sleep - because has he not sacrificed enough? - you ponder his question as much as your sleep deprived mind is able. 

Din.. I think the hardest part about letting go is being able to accept that the people you’re letting go of aren’t apart of your life anymore. They aren’t physically with you anymore. They aren’t imprinted on your memory, on your soul. You just have to let it... fade. Let them fade until they're just a story. 

Your eyes flicker down to the ring that lays on your left finger. 

But in a galaxy as remarkable as this one... There’s always that glimmer of hope that someday, maybe someday... they’ll come back to you. That they won’t leave you. 

  “And Grogu will never leave you Din.” You whisper, wrapping your hand around his forearm and lightly squeezing it as you settle into the warmth of his embrace. “Never.”

Before 

Your blood chills in your veins at the words, “I go alone.” because there is no possible way in Sith hells you are allowing Din to walk onto that cruiser alone. As Bo-Katan reiterates the plan to the crew around you, your eyes are focused on the rigid and silent Mandalorian standing across the holo-table. 

You’re not coming with me. 

Are you really naive enough to believe I’m letting you go alone, Din? You snap, to which he winces at your sharp tone. If Gideon is half intelligent as I think he is, he’ll have installed impenetrable defenses on those dark-troopers. You'll need a Jedi to get through them. 

You can practically feel the burn of his gaze through the helmet. It’s obvious he wants you with the larger group, but you refuse to bow when the life of your son is at stake. If he’s going to retrieve the baby, you very much intend on remaining by his side to ensure the safety of them both. 

Until the end. 

Fine. You stick by me, don’t say a word- He pauses and swallows the reluctance in his throat that dies when he meets your eyes through the helmet. You know he’s looking at you... and you know how fearful he is. And please, don’t die. 

You beam. Dying without you, Din Djarin? I have no intentions of doing that anytime soon. 

The two of you disengage from the shuttle, trekking through the bodies left in the wake of the women in the landing bay as you move in the direction of the brig. Doctor Pershing had disclosed that Gideon had been keeping the baby there, so there was no reason to believe that he wouldn’t still remain within the same cell. 

Your blood roars in your ears as you disengage the lock on your staff and hold the hilts of each saber in your hands. The Force envelops you in its comforting hold - wraps around your bones and your scars and your muscles and invigorates you with a strength you haven’t felt since before The Republic fell - and guides your steps that will lead you in the direction of the little one who holds a large piece of your heart. 

The other piece is held in the hands of The Mandalorian. 

Din. You murmur. I just need you to know that you may see a side of me today that you’ve never seen before. If that in any way changes how you feel about me-

He stops you short just as a pair of Stormtropers jog past. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. He sounds certain, almost confident, in his answer. The sound of it makes your chest warm. 

Never? 

Never. 

It’s right there on the tip of your tongue. You’ve only said it to each other once in the time that you’ve been together, but you’ve never desired to say it more then this moment, but it doesn’t feel right. It’s too rushed. Dancing too close to the edge of anticipation as you seek out your child. 

Your heart nearly jumps out your chest as Din sprints in the direction of the doors where the dark troopers are emerging and one lone soldier has escaped. Before you can react, the man you love is being held against the wall in an iron grip and a fist is repeatedly pounding itself into his helmet. 

  “Din!” 

The Dark-Trooper turns its eyes on you, and you’re suddenly flung into a lifetime  of battle skills that kept you alive when you’d served as a Padawan in The Clone Wars and on the front lines of The Rebellion. You slide forward on your knees and remove the legs of the trooper just as Din impales the thing with the Beskar spear slung across his back. 

  “I’m fine-” He rasps, extending a hand to hold you at arms length as your trembling hands tighten their grip on your saber. It’s not often that Din comes face to face with Death when you're standing right there. People are petrified of Jedi. There aren’t many of them left. Mandalorian bounty hunters, however... They can be more expendable. Easier to break then one who is gifted with The Force. 

  “C’mon. I’ll take point.”

Right here. The Force whispers its assurance as you both stand in front of the nearest cell, and the moment the door opens you are granted with the sight of Moff Gideon holding the dark saber in front of Grogu. 

Buir. You’d completely forgotten the baby had bonded himself to you in the days just shortly after you’d found him. He’d rarely used it. He’d only ever opened himself up to project his emotions onto you in order for you to know when something was wrong, but the minute you see him sitting on that bench, he’s talking to you.

Grogu holds his hands out as if he’s reaching for you, wide eyes pleading for you to remove the Force Suppressant handcuffs that envelop his tiny hands.  Buir. 

Tears prick your eyes as you ignite your saber. The other sits idle on your hip just out of reach.  

  “Drop the blaster,” Moff nods to your saber. “And your saber. Slowly.” The two of you drop your weapons simultaneously. “Now kick them over to me.” Before Din can do so, you wave your hand to throw your weapons just out of reach. “Very nice. I didn’t know Jedi could be civil.”

The venom drips from his words. “If you’re not careful,” You warn. “I will show you what I look like when I am not civil.” A split second passes as you watch the fear flicker through his gaze before he’s tightening his grip on the dark saber. Moff had not, to your knowledge, encountered any kind of Jedi up until this point. He only knew of their abilities. Not of what they were capable of - with the dark or the light - with The Force at their disposal. 

The damage you could cause.... 

  “Give me the kid.” 

  “The Kid is just fine where he is.” Gideon replies, to which he begins moving the dark saber back and forth just to hear the satisfying hum of its kyber that rings within the hilt. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? It used to belong to Bo-Katan.” Din stops short at his statement. “Yes. I know you’ve both been traveling with Bo-Katan. Friendly piece of advice, assume I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.” 

Your gaze is still trained on the kid. Did he hurt you? Your voice is gentle as you prod at the shields that Grogu has placed inside of his mind. For someone who has little to no training, he’s rather good at making sure nobody can reach the most vulnerable places of himself. Ad’ika, it’s okay. It’s your buir. Did he hurt you?

Din and the Moff are still talking as your son lifts his head, meets your soft - and familiar, he hasn’t felt this safe since he was last on Tython, knowing you and Din were out there protecting him - gaze, and shakes his head. 

Bless The Maker. 

You shake yourself out of your reverie at the Moff’s words. “I see your bond with him. The bond the Jedi has made with him,” He comments, disengaging the dark saber as he moves away from the baby. “The two of you can take him, but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.” 

The Force coils itself around you. Tightens around your arms as if you pull you away from the baby, and just as Din moves to pick him up, whispers danger before The Moff has reengaged the dark saber and slams the weapon into Din’s jetpack. 

  “Din! Go!” 

Buir. You throw yourself right into the line of fire, regardless of the threat to your own life, and envelop Grogu in your arms as the fight between the Moff and Din carries out into the hallway. Safe. 

You aren’t sure if he’s talking about himself or you. Regardless, you cradle him against your chest and bring your knees upward to shelter him within your manse. 

Yes. Safe. 

The cuffs fall to the floor with a snap of your fingers. 

*** 

You’re straight up itching to punch Bo-Katan right in her smug face. After bringing Gideon to the bridge where the rest of your team awaits you, the Moff confesses the origins behind the Dark Saber - which for some reason is a tradition, despite Mandalore’s loss, that Bo-Katan still follows because it is what she knows - and the Princess of Sundari refuses to take it back from Din. 

  “You are so stuck in your old ways, Bo-Katan.” You snap, Grogu still cradled in your arm as you pace the width of the bridge. Din still wields the blade and grasps the Moff in the other hand, hardened gaze set on the thick-headed Mandalorian before him. “Wake up! This is not your sister’s Mandalore-” 

The youngest Kryze whips around. Shock and disbelief writes itself into your features because that is the only time you can recall seeing such a fire lit within her. “Don’t you dare speak her name-” She snarls, pointing an accusatory finger  at you as the two of you step toe to toe. “Or even think of her.” 

You are so tempted to release your biggest secret, the one you’ve been keeping from everyone - even before you met Din - for your own safety. You hadn’t even told the Skywalker's about it. 

It’s fortunate you didn’t obtain the auburn hair. 

  “Why don’t you kill him now and take it? It’s yours now.” 

  “What is?” 

 “The dark saber.” 

Bo-Katan will not relent. Until she wins that saber in combat, she refuses to even lay a hand on the dark saber. You find the entire thing amusing given what your former Master had told you in hushed stories underneath a starry sky about Clan Kryze. Stubborn, prideful women. Satine’s pride had earned her an early grave. Bo-Katan, however... that remained to be determined. 

  “I yield. It’s yours.’’

Din is too good for the throne of Mandalore. All he wants in life is a ship, the baby, and you. That is what drives him to hand the dark saber over to Bo-Katan. That is what drives him at all. 

You know about the Dark Saber. You’ve heard the tales surrounding it since you were small, stranded on a home world you’d have rather never seen again with your father and a thrumming lightsaber crystal. The Force will be with you. Always. He had made that promise just before he died, and you had carried his words with you ever since. That man had sheltered you, raised you, made you his own. 

And as Din watches you hold that Dark Saber out in front of your hand, he finally sees the resemblance. He sees the ferocity in your gaze and the defeat in Bo-Katan’s, he sees how similar you too are in both personality and physical appearance. 

What the kriff? 

  “He’s right. The power is in the story, not the weapon.” Darkened eyes meet your own as your pulse thrums erratically beneath your grip on the Dark Saber. “Ironic how a Jedi raised on Coruscant knows more about Mandalore then most of the people in here, two of which are from Mandalore.” 

  “Who said I wasn’t from Mandalore?” 

Before the two of you can argue, one of the alarms begins blaring on the opposite side of the bridge. The dark troopers have breached the ray shields and board the cruiser. 

  “You’re about to face off with the Dark Troopers. You had your hands full with one, let’s see how you do against a platoon.” 

This was the precise moment you’d warned Din about. “Bo-Katan,” You call over your shoulder at the Princess, who turns to acknowledge you as she puts her helmet on. Now or never I guess. “Ke'pare olar, cabuor cuun adiik. Par Clan Kryze.” 

Before Bo-Katan can ask you what you’re doing, you reach into your tunic and reveal the pendant you’ve worn since long before you met Din. A token from the man who'd taken it upon himself to raise you, you’d been everywhere with the tiny silver owl that almost never left your person. 

Her breath catches in her lungs. The last time she saw that pendant... 

  “Sarad-” 

  “Din?” You question hesitantly and lowly enough that the others can’t hear, handing him the baby before you reach for your sabers. “Remember when I told you I was going to do something you’ve never seen before?” Din nods and tightens his grip on Grogu as you activate each saber and turn in the direction of the doors. 

  “Yes.”

The Mandalorian catches your trembling hands wrapped tightly enough around your sabers to turn your knuckles white. 

Din swallows the trepidation that lingers in his throat and squares his jaw beneath the helmet, allowing his fear of what may happen to you - despite knowing how well you can take care of yourself - to confine itself to the back of his mind. He can dwell on it later. 

You’re making the child’s safety your top priority. 

  “Don’t let it change anything.” 

You cast one last look over your shoulder at the man you love, allowing your gaze to soften as Grogu eyes him, then you, and rests a tiny hand against Din’s. He’s trying to tell you I’ll keep him safe while you’re gone. It’s sweet. Endearing. 

  “It won’t.” Din replies quietly, to which his voice then whispers I love you across your bond. Your heart nearly explodes with how gentle it is, how he chose now to tell you again after so long of having not heard it. There’s a newfound strength coursing through your body as you turn towards the doors and call to Fennec to open them. “Be safe, Sarad.” 

  “I will.” 

As someone who usually calls on the Light Side of the Force, you’re oddly coaxed to the lingering darkness in the hallways of the Cruiser. You’ve never allowed yourself to fall like the Sith do. You’d had every reason to do so over the years, and yet you never did. 

It occurs to you as you make your final stand alone that the only reason you never fell was because you found the baby. 

Oh Force... 

The metallic footsteps of the dark troopers ring in your ears as you stand vigil before the doors to the room that contains your family. Your aliit. 

Forgive me. 

  “Go on then!” You yell, hoping your voice will carry through the hallways in which they are following to lead themselves to you. “What, are you afraid of a Jedi? I’ve bested the dark, I’ve survived two wars and a mass genocide! Nothing can break me!” You twirl your wrists in the usual jar’kai motions and settle yourself into your favorite defense position. “I’m ready! Are you??” 

Outside the main viewport, a lone X-Wing flies within view with the hangar as its destination. 

Your head falls to your chest. I’m calling on you... Be with me. The steps grow closer, the anticipation of their lethal capabilities thrumming in your veins. Be with me. 

The first dark troopers circle the hall. You peer out of the alcove in which you’re hiding, position yourself in the middle of the platoon, and lift your head towards the ceiling. 

Din watches from the surveillance array as the first squad of dark troopers begins trembling. The metal crumbles beneath the weight of your Force grip. “Sarad-” He whispers, fingertips ghosting the screen as he watches the troopers turn in your direction and set their targeting systems on you. “Sarad.” 

Be with me. 

Unaware of the other Force User who’s just landed in the hangar, your head snaps upward and your instincts kick in as your sabers begin moving of their own accord. You are not the one moving with such grace, such poise, years of training in desert sands with a man who’s constantly dancing with his ghosts. 

You are not you. You are simply The Force. 

Blue collides with obsidian. Further down the hall, Grogu watches on the surveillance as his buir and the Jedi he’s called upon move to meet each other half way. 

Before you reach the newcomer, you’re nearly knocked off your feet by the way his presence radiates in The Force as you clench your hands into a fist and send the last Dark Trooper slamming into the wall. 

  “No way.” The two of you snap upward to meet each other’s gaze. It’s been years since you’ve seen that familiar face - the same familiar face you’d spent so many nights with training in the forests, the same face that had always softened as the two of you traded stories about your pasts and the Jedi who’d trained you - and it’s a welcome sight that this happens to be the Jedi that your ad’ika had called upon on Tython. “Luke?” 

The newcomer throws his hood back to meet your eyes. 

  “Y/N.” 

***

During 

Buir. Grogu watches the surveillance screen as you and Luke join one another in the elevator. There’s one small platoon left that’s come from a separate hallway that the two of you can eliminate without barely lifting a finger. 

The powerful two Jedi can radiate. It’s cosmic. 

It’s alluring. Mesmerizing. A flurry of blue and green weaving between one another as each individual dark trooper is reduced to a pile of smoking metal. Din watches Grogu where he stands, little hand planted on the surveillance screen as the two of you emerge together from the elevator.

  “Remarkable.” Din whispers, because it is. The way that the two of you fight is almost like you were born to do it together, to fight with one another and as one another. 

The last dark trooper crumbles under Luke’s grasps. When he passes by the camera, Grogu turns to his father and tips his ears back before whining for Din to lift him up. 

  “Open the doors.” 

Din tries not to laugh at the utter indignation on Fennec’s face as he cradles the baby’s neck in his hands, moving around the bounty hunter to stand before the blast doors. He knows they’re safe when you’re standing on the other side of it. 

The crowd watches as the newcomer follows on your heels through the smoke left in the wake of your destruction, and the two of you both remove your hoods to acknowledge them. 

 “Mandalorian.” 

  “Is he... A Jedi? Like you?” 

Luke, ever the civil, folds his hands across his stomach and nods. “Yes.” He says quietly, green eyes softening as the baby peers around the edge of the chair to look at his buir and the man who has answered his call. “Come, little one.” 

Grogu looks to Din, and then to you. You can hear his question as clear as day inside your mind. 

Are you ready to let me go? 

And in that moment, everything comes crashing down in front of you. He’s asking for your permission to go with Luke. He’s asking for the permission of the woman who’d saved him and the man who’d taken it upon himself to keep him safe, to raise him, to let him go with the other Jedi in order to be properly trained. Maker knew you couldn’t do it. 

  “He doesn’t want to go with you.” 

Goodbye, goodbye

Goodbye, my love 

  “He wants your permission. Both of you.” Luke’s voice breaks through your reverie as you hang your sabers on the belt that’s swung low across your hips. This child has been your livelihood, your reason for breathing, since the year following the genocide of the Jedi. Since you lost your world. 

And it seems like you’re about to lose it again. 

I can’t hide

I can’t hide 

I can’t hide what has come 

    “He is strong in the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect The Child, but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.” Unfortunately for you, Luke knows you so well that he can feel the weighed projection of your feelings that emanate from you like a flare within the darkness, which is what prompts you to gently usher you towards Din. 

  “Hey, go on. This is who you belong with. He-He’s one of your kind.” 

I have to go 

I have to go

I have to go... and leave you alone... 

“I’ll see you again. I promise.” 

Wide, innocent eyes flicker between you and Din before Grogu is reaching up, ever the gentle, to press his hand against his helmet. This would be the first and most likely the only time the baby has ever seen Din’s real face. 

You flash a questioning look at the man you love. Then, without question, he wraps his fingers around the bottom of the helmet and slowly lifts it off. 

The beskar clang resounds within the bridge. 

But always know

Always know... Always know

That I love you so.. 

Your heart has begun to bleed just by watching this exchange. Din has gone so much of his life without knowing what love was, how gentle people were capable of being. That had all changed when The Child had healed The Mandalorian’s lonely heart. It had never been you. It was him who healed you both. 

Din’s lips quiver as Grogu presses his hand to a bare cheek. Your tears are becoming harder to keep at bay, and with the sudden tightness in your chest, you’re suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to breathe. Nevermind the fact that the room has suddenly begun spinning. 

 ‘’Alright, pal. It’s time to go.” Din said quietly. You aren’t entirely sure if he's talking to himself, to you, or to Grogu. “Don’t be afraid.” 

Everything around you is muted. Numb. Like your body is trying to fight a shock that you haven’t experienced since Order 66. 

Buir. A tiny whisper, echoing in the back of your mind as a gentle hand rests on your shoulder. A flash of a child’s cry echoes in your ears as a blonde woman hands a baby into the arms of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the very man who had taken it upon himself to raise you. Safe. That whisper grows into the voice of your son. Your son is staring at you over Din’s shoulder and desperately trying to call your attention as your world comes crashing at your feet. Buir is safe. 

That’s what he means. Since you’re not going to be looking over your shoulder and sleeping with one eye open anymore just because he’s in the same vicinity as you - such a powerful being inside this tiny body - now, you are safe for the first time since The Empire fell. 

The fact Grogu puts your safety over his own makes your heart break. 

  “You’re losing a child.” It’s Bo-Katan’s voice that brings you back to reality. The gentle and foreign tone she’s using is enough to jar you and bring your focus back to the matter at hand: It’s time for Grogu to be with his- your people. “It’s alright to grieve.” 

It is, but you can’t. Not right now. 

You stumble forward and wipe at your eyes as you press your front to Din’s back. He’s very clearly overwhelmed by the loss of the baby, but that doesn’t stop him from nodding in thanks to Luke. 

Goodbye, sunshine

Goodbye for now 

Your anguish is replaced by a split second of joy as Grogu looks at you, waddles forward to cradle your leg against himself and say i love you through his Force Bond before he’s turning in the direction of the astromech who’s just rolled into view. 

  “May The Force Be With You.” But before Luke walks into that elevator, he casts one last look at you. It’s the same look he gave you before you’d left to make a life for yourself. To be your own person outside of the legacy of the Jedi that you’d been brought up in. “I’m offering you the same opportunity I did when you left, Y/N. You can help me in training The Child with the new Jedi Order I intend to build. There are many young Force Sensitives to find.” He holds out his free hand and tries to hide his smile as R2 beeps his approval. “A new world. Would you like to be a part of it?” 

Through your Force Bond, you clearly feel Din’s heart drop right into his stomach and his chest tighten as reality hits him: You and the baby may be leaving him together. That would leave him alone for the first time in several years.. and Din doesn’t remember what he was like before he met the two of you, before he loved the two of you. 

He doesn’t want to go back to being a ghost. 

  “I left you for a reason, Luke.” And just like that, the infamous Mandalorian masks his shock as you step backward and right into his hold, maneuvering your arm so as to take his hand within yours. “And I have no intention to leave my aliit. Not this time.” 

Luke nods. It’s all he can do. “Very well. As I said, May The Force Be With You.’’

Grogu looks at the two of you as Luke carries him into the elevator. 

Goodbye, brown eyes 

Take care of yourself 

It is so difficult to keep your composure as your son watches the two of you disappear from view. Your knees are already trembling by the time Din pulls you into his arms, and when the elevator doors close, you throw your head back against Din’s chest and let out a wail that shatters the silence following their departure as the two of you sink to the floor. 

I have to go.. and leave you alone 

But always know that I love you so

Din’s split second decision comes as he buries his face in your hair and whispers as gently as he is able, “Marry me.” 

I love you so

Your eyes snap open to meet his own. Tear filled onyx meets your gaze as you cradle his face in your hands and kiss him - once, twice, three times until he’s open and begging and desperate for more of you - before pulling away to envelop him in the tightest embrace possible. 

Oh... he’s so wholly and wonderfully yours. 

  “Yes.” 

***

After

Bo-Katan approaches you as you stand in Slave One, knees brought to your chest and chin resting upon them as she kneels in front of you. You and Din haven’t said a word since you boarded the ship, and it’s a needed silence. You must have time to process your losses. 

Why did I have to let him go? 

  “That pendant.” Bo-Katan whispers. “That pendant used to be in my family, Clan Kryze.” The former Princess of Mandalore tilts her head as your gaze remained focused on the cargo hold, eyes vacant as she continues. “It was mine. That pendant was mine and eventually passed to my sister, Satine. You know about Mandalore before the Empire, you know about Kenobi, you know about The Force.” 

Your eyes slowly shift to hers. 

  “And?” 

  “I don’t think you’re from some backwater planet. I think you were born on Mandalore,” Her eyes soften, the first time you’ve seen her show any kind of humanity in the entire escapade since leaving the Cantina. You didn’t think she was capable of it. “I think Kenobi raised you wherever he ended up, and I think he was your Master. I think you are Mandalorian, little one.” Bo-Katan stands to her feet and hesitates for a brief moment before resting her hand against your head. “But I don’t know. I never will.” 

Your entire body sags into her touch. 

  “Bo-Katan-” 

  “Be peaceful, little Jedi.” She stops before turning to look at you over her shoulder, flashing the faintest smile - one you swear you’ve seen before - before returning to her spot beside Koska. 

Your eyes flutter as you fall asleep.

***

The End

In the quietness of a little room in an inn on Nevarro, he asks you again. 

  “What is the hardest part about letting go?” 

And this time, you have an answer. 

  “The hardest part about letting go is knowing they’re somewhere out there in the world, away from you, and you still love them. Love them so deeply and so much that it hurts you to be away from them.” You trace the contours of his exhausted aspect, lightly poking the end of his nose just to see the toothy and bashful smile he flashes in response, and prop your head on your hand as you lightly trace his bicep with steady fingers. “You wanna know what the best thing to do is before you inevitably must let them make their own way?” Din hums his acknowledgement and opens his eyes to meet your own. “You love them. You love him..” You exhale slowly on a sigh and lean inward to press your lips to his forehead. 

Din sinks into your hold and allows you to cradle his head to your chest. You bury your face in his hair and reach into your shirt to reveal the owl pendant. 

 “And you hope it’s enough.”

Hm. Maybe one day you’ll have the courage to tell her. 

One day. 

[sou-ver-2-0]

Sou Hiyori and Kanna’s Sister Parallels

In my short time in the Your Turn to Die fandom, I haven't seen anyone discuss the similarities between our Sou Hiyori and Kanna's older sister Kugie. This subtle parallel is one of the many fantastic writing details in this game, and it happens to be my favorite one. So I wanted to talk about it! 

I love the irony that the characters in YTTD draw a more obvious parallel between Kugie Kizuchi and the game's protagonist, Sara Chidouin. Both Sara and Kugie are high-school aged girls, and Sara often plays the part of Kanna's big sister, leading Kanna to project her feelings for Kugie onto Sara. Although this is sweet, it's still a superficial parallel. Sara and Kugie play the same role, but how similar are they really? If you choose to chat with Kanna on the first day of Chapter 2's storyline, Kanna will tell you the truth about her adoptive sister. Instead of idealizing her, Kanna paints a more complex picture of a flawed young woman. Unlike Sara, Kugie bullied Kanna when they first met. It took time for the pair of them to feel like real siblings. On a deeper level, Kugie's own mini-character arc is very different from Sara's arc, but it perfectly mirrors Sou's arc!

Both Kugie and Sou have a cruel streak and they each make rash judgments about other people. However, they eventually reveal with their actions that they truly love Kanna deep down. While Sara can make the choice to abandon Kanna, both Kugie and Sou would die for the girl. Because of the striking parallels I see between Kanna's memories of Kugie and Kanna's present relationship with Sou, I want to believe that Kugie was just as willing as Sou was to die in order to save Kanna's life. Kugie's story effectively acts as a microcosm of Sou's story. So let's take a close look at it.

KANNA: ...Sara... / You're just like... my sister.

SARA: Huh...?

KANNA: Your strength... and your kindness... / ... / But my sister... / Wasn't always kind from the moment we met.

SARA: (The moment they met...?)

If you speak to Kanna during negotiation time on Day 1 of Chapter 2, the girl begins her story by telling Sara that she's just like her sister, since Sara shares Kugie's "strength and kindness." However, she admits that her sister "wasn't always kind from the moment we met." This is the first major difference between the two girls, and it's what clued me into the idea that Kugie's story might be a metaphor for Sou's story instead. It's also an early moment in which Kanna reveals that she's not as naive as people think she is. She's aware that Kugie was flawed, just like she's aware of Sou's flaws. She keeps choosing to believe in their capacity for good, even as she understands that they are capable of hurting her. 

  Following this revelation, we come to a notable choice.   

1. CHOICE: You aren't blood-related?

SARA: ...Kanna. Are you and your sister not blood-related...?

KANNA: ...Right...

2. CHOICE: Guess I win

SARA: I was nice from the start, so guess I win.

KANNA: Ah... Even the way you say weird things like that is just like my sister...

SARA: (Strangely, that just got her more emotional...)

Sara can either ask "You aren't blood-related?" or smugly observe "Guess I win." Either way, Kanna will steer the conversation back to her adoption by the Kizuchi family. But the choice to declare "victory" over Kugie here fascinates me, since it's easy to connect this competitive sentiment to Sara's relationship with Sou. While Sara and Sou are obviously in a competition for their lives, what ends up mattering more is their competition for Kanna's affections. In both cases, Sou is painfully aware that he's the underdog with "zero percent chance of success." Sou is sure that Kanna would choose Sara's life over his life, if she were forced to make that awful choice.

For Sou, who believes that Kanna loves him less, his moral dilemma is whether to support Kanna in spite of this. The fact that he supports her unconditionally in the second Main Game speaks to his strength of character. He proves that he truly values Kanna more than his own life. For Sara, who already feels comfortable in the "victory" of Kanna's devotion, the moral question becomes whether the player will make choices that are worthy of the girl. Will you help Sou protect her? Or will you decide that Kanna's life is worth less than Sou's hacking skills? Sara's choice determines whether she truly shares Kugie's "strength and kindness."

I'll come back to Kanna's feelings on this "competition" later. For now it's enough to say that she recognizes that competitive streak in Kugie too, and that memory makes her "emotional." It shows how she loves these three characters even when they say "weird things." Again, Kanna is aware of Sara, Kugie, and Sou's flaws but still feels affection for them. That's just how it is when you love someone.

Kanna continues her story:

KANNA: ...See, Kanna's adopted.

SARA: ...!

KANNA: She came to her current family from an orphanage when she was little...

SARA: So you had different parents, too?

KANNA: Mom and dad were really kind... / Kanna... was determined to always smile, childishly thinking "I can't trouble them." / ...And Kanna's sister didn't seem to like her...

Here, Kanna reveals that she has always had the type of personality where she tries hard to please others. She was worried about being a burden long before the Death Game, but for a more ordinary reason; she's adopted. She's always been self-conscious. Her ongoing heartbreak and anxiety comes from a deep place of worrying that her big sister doesn't love her. This informs her current relationships with both Sara and Sou.

At this point, the narrative shifts to a flashback of Kanna's memories.

MOM: Stop it, Kugie! Why do you do such cruel things?!

KANNA: No, it's fine! Kanna's not angry... She's not, really... / Look, see! Ahaha... Ehehehehe...

KUGIE: ...What're you always laughing for?

KANNA: Huh...?

KUGIE: ...You're creepy. I hate it.

DAD: Hey, stop that! Apologize, Kugie!

Kugie calls Kanna "creepy" and even says that she "hates" that part of her. Sara can't ever say such cruel words to Kanna; the worst you can do as a player is speak sternly to her sometimes. But Sou absolutely can say cruel things. He has called Kanna "stupid kid," "dead weight," and a "hindrance" in front of the entire group. And just like the Kizuchi parents scolded Kugie for her mean words, our group members condemn Sou for his mean words.

Now, we know Sou wasn't actually speaking his heart with those words. He didn't have malicious intent. (In fact, he was trying to save Kanna's life.) Sou said those words because he wears a mask to cover his true self. That's the essence of his character. He tries to sound tough and logical to force people to take him seriously. He assumes that once he lets his guard down and shows weakness, everyone will vote to kill him. He becomes a bully because he's insecure.

What if Kugie was also wearing a mask when she bullied Kanna? Not because of the Death Game like Sou, but for a more ordinary reason. Maybe she was simply trying to sound "cool." Maybe Kugie bullied Kanna because she was also insecure, and it would be easy to take out her insecurity on a little girl like Kanna. Kanna is an awkward child who speaks in the third person and laughs for no reason. It would be easy for an older girl to look at Kanna and think, "At least I'm not as embarrassing as that." Even though we don't know Kugie as well as Sou, I think it's a logical assumption.

KANNA: Even then, I kept on smiling... I didn't... want to make sister out as a villain. / But one day, when it became unbearable... I ran away from home.

This is the saddest part but I love it because it's a direct parallel to what Kanna says about Sou! 

During the Second Main Game, when Kanna confesses that she took the Sacrifice card from Sara, she says, "Kanna...Kanna...!! She didn't want to let Sara die...!! And also...!! She didn't want to make Sou a murderer...!!" 

The things Kanna does for these two!!

In other words, there comes a point for both Kugie and Sou where their actions are so harmful that Kanna feels like she has to throw herself away to thwart their "villainy." She runs away from home. She takes the Sacrifice Card. Because she doesn't want these two people she loves to become villains.  

We continue Kanna's story with another flashback. This time, it's accompanied by visual imagery of a small Kanna sitting by herself and crying while hiding her face under a bucket.

KANNA: ...sniff... sob...

KANNA: (narrating) I couldn't go home. I didn't want to... Thinking that to myself, I sat in the park with a bucket on my head and cried.

This is Kanna at her most vulnerable. She is isolated and alone. She has given up. 

In the present day, Kanna has many hopeless moments like this since she has just lost her sister, the person she loved most. We can judge any of the game's characters by how well they treat her, the most vulnerable among them.

In Kanna's memory, there is a character who comes to speak with her at this time. A little boy who tries to joke with her and cheer her up. Kanna only remembers him as "Brat," but to the player, he looks an awful lot like a small Joe Tazuna! The following confrontation between Kanna, "Brat," and Kugie is my favorite part, because it leads to my favorite parallel.

BRAT: Hey! Whatcha doin'? / What's with the bucket?! Yer funny!

KANNA: ...sniff... sniffle...

BRAT: Huh? You cryin'?!

KANNA: ..........

BRAT: ...Alright. / *He lifts his shirt over his head.* How's that! Ehh?! Look at me! C'mon! Funny, right?

KANNA: ...uuuuu...

VOICE (KUGIE): What're you doing?!

BRAT: ...Huh...?

KUGIE: How dare you put a bucket on her head and tease her!! Beat it, you!!

BRAT: I-I wasn't teasin' her!

KUGIE: Liar!! Kanna's crying, isn't she?! D-Don't... be so cruel to my little sister!!

KANNA (narrating): ...That was the first time she called me "little sister"...

In the scene, "Brat" greets Kanna and tries to cheer her up by being a goofball. However, Kugie sees this and gets the wrong impression. She assumes that the boy is hurting Kanna and she rushes to her little sister's defense. As a result of Kugie's actions, Kanna finally sees Kugie's true loving heart.

This is, beat for beat, exactly what happens when Sou confronts Sara about Kugie's smartphone. Just like Kugie wrongly assumed that Joe was bullying Kanna, Sou wrongly assumes that Sara tampered with Kugie's smartphone to make it seem like Kugie hated Kanna. Even though Sou is wrong--Sara was trying to fix the smartphone, just like Sou was--this is the first moment that the player can see Sou's true heart. We learn that Sou's reasons for targeting Sara aren't due to him being some scheming mastermind; he's simply suspicious by nature and he makes rash judgments. He acts the way he does because he genuinely believes that Sara is dangerous. And for the first time, we see how deeply Sou cares about Kanna. We see him stand up to Sara to defend her. Then we see how he wrote a message full of love and hope on Kugie's phone. 

When Kanna finally receives the phone, she cries "tears of salvation" over Kugie's new message. But Kugie's words are really Sou's words. And by the time we reach Chapter 3, we learn that Kanna knew the truth the whole time.

(KANNA): Kanna was always with her big sister. / Because she loved her a lot… / But Kanna was always just a bother to her… / Even that time when it mattered most, she couldn't do anything. / So she thought she was hated… / But that message... made her remember. / That surely, her big sister was watching over her… / That she had to stay strong on her own… / But, well… / The truth is, she knew… / That it wasn't her sister who wrote that message… / *Kanna remembers Sou's face.* .... / ...There's people who tried to protect Kanna. / There's people who worked to encourage her. / So... she doesn't want anyone else to die. / Because... they're all such kind people...

In the game, Kanna shares these thoughts with the player in the aftermath of Sou's death. This is the scenario in which Sou gets to complete the same arc as Kugie. They both sacrifice themselves to save the little sister they love so much. I'm sure that Kugie would have been grateful for Sou's help in writing that message and saving Kanna's life.

I'll finish sharing the rest of Kanna's story about Kugie: 

KUGIE: ...You still crying?

KANNA: S-Sorry... sister...

KUGIE: ... / ...So you cry too, Kanna.

I think the wording of that last sentence in English is interesting. The obvious interpretation is that Kugie realizes that Kanna has been secretly crying and hiding her true self all this time. But on another level, I wonder if Kugie is admitting that she herself "cries too"? That would confirm Kugie's insecurity. And it would make this a moment in which Kugie sees herself in Kanna, just like it's implied that Sou sees his "weak self" in Kanna. In any case, this "unmasking" of Kanna's true heart is a good parallel for Sou's story as well. Kanna also hides her feelings like he does.

KANNA: ..........

KUGIE: .......... / Kanna... I'm sorry...

KANNA: ...Sister...

KUGIE: Mom and dad are worried, so let's get home quick, okay?

KANNA: O... Okay! Eheheh...

It is possible for Sou to apologize to Kanna in the prologue of Chapter 2, Part 2. His wording is more ominous than Kugie's, though he keeps Kugie's sentiment about returning home: "...Sorry. / Just relax. If you’re obedient, I’ll tell you how to survive."

Continuing with Kanna's story, the narrative shifts back to the present day.

KANNA: ...Ever since then, my sister and I got along really well.

SARA: I see...

KANNA: Without any blood relation... Kanna and her sister got along really... really well... / ..........

I love this line because it can apply to Sou as well, since he isn't blood-related to Kanna either. All of Kanna's protective siblings commit to her well-being by their own choice.

SARA: Kanna...

KANNA: Kanna... will definitely go home...! Because she needs to tell mom and dad...! / Determination... / A kind of determination... much too heavy for a girl her age to bear. / ...I should be going soon. Sou might wake up, after all... / Thank you very much... Sara.

Kanna ends her story with a determined speech to return home and honor Kugie's memory. As we read earlier, Kanna gives a similar determined speech in the aftermath of Sou's sacrifice. Later in Chapter 3, she further expresses a desire to honor Sou’s memory, saying “I want to know more about the man who sacrificed himself for me.” This is Kanna at her strongest! This is a Kanna who wants to live!

I mentioned earlier that I would come back to Kanna's feelings on the "competition" between Sou and Sara for her affections. Because Sara resembles Kugie physically, everyone believes that Kanna would choose Sara over Sou. Kanna even says that Sara is "the person she most wants to live." That is Kanna's emotional appeal to save Sara from being voted as a candidate. In the event that Kanna dies, Keiji rubs Kanna’s words in Sou's face at the beginning of Chapter 3, leaving Sou desolate.

But it's important to note that Kanna's choice was always to save both Sara and Sou. To say that she would abandon Sou discredits what actually happened. After Kanna makes an emotional appeal to save Sara's life, she shrewdly makes a logical appeal to save Sou's life. And when Sou tries to direct the votes to Kanna, thinking she has the Sacrifice card, Kanna easily thwarts his efforts by simply telling the truth. Kanna was the only character who chose to be honest about the Sacrifice Card, because she never intended to let anyone else die for her. 

Kanna's choice was to reject the “competition” outright. She doesn't even take it seriously. Her reasons for taking the Sacrifice card were twofold: to save Sara's life, and to save Sou's soul. It's never a real question for her which person she values more. She would have died for them both.

This matters because Sou doesn't parallel Kugie in such an obvious way like Sara does, but the parallel is still there. It's subtle enough that Sou can't even see it. He never feels confident in Kanna's affection, which is why he ordered her, "Kanna. / Don’t you betray me." He can't see what's right in front of him: that Kanna cares about him as though he were her own brother. 

In contrast, Sara feels self-conscious about the comparisons people draw between Kugie and herself. She always feels awkward about it. She is fully aware that Kugie was her own person, and Sara can only pretend to understand what she was like. I really like the way that the manga treated this issue. Although the manga cuts out many of the excellent character moments from the game, it adds more focus on Kugie.

Sara thinks to herself, "I don't know...how many regrets that person had..." which neatly foreshadows that Kugie would have regretted bullying Kanna. Speaking of regrets also reminds me of Sou, who--in the route where he dies--regrets not trusting everyone sooner.

I wanted to end this piece on a happy note, so I'll just say that I like to imagine that Sou and Kugie would have gotten along! Maybe they would even be able to see through each other's masks and help each other. They could work together to protect Kanna, and the Player could choose whether Sara joins them.

[amethystpath-writes]

Buck up captain because this is gonna be a long one

Okay so the ruling family of a kingdom has been assassinated, except for the seemingly naive and reckless princess who snuck out the night before the assassination to go on a vacation. When she returns, the conniving government officials and advisors invite her to a dinner and plan to poison her food. But then she like totally flips the tables on them and calmly switches her food with the head advisor in front of everyone, and they just awkwardly sit there waiting for him to eat it (since he’s the one who invited her, he has to eat first)

The great hall was as beautiful and decorative as ever. Reema hated this room- she always had. It was part of the reasons why she snuck out last night, into the gardens, into the woods beyond the palace walls, into a world where she didn’t have to keep her chin held high with thighs pressed together beneath a dress too big and too obnoxious to sit- or stand- in. In the woods, she could shed her clothes, jump in a lake, climb out, air dry in the summer breeze, and redress. Sometimes, if she were feeling up to it, she’d throw pebbles into a village boy’s window, and invite him to go skinny-dipping with her.

Last night wasn’t one of those nights, not as she heard heavy armour clanking and swords being drawn. The woods weren’t far enough from the palace that she couldn’t hear such horrors. She could have run back, could have tried to save the crowns she knew were being destroyed, but well- Reema was safe. Why should she throw herself back into the chaos when she was so safely away from it? Reema stayed in the woods.

How did she know there was an attack against her family? Easy. All those boys from the poorer villages were such gossips, telling the princess anything as long as she thought to ask. Being the self-preserver of the family, Reema asked about any rumours involving the royals, or nobles. There weren’t many, but some of the captains had been meeting up several regions away from the core palace- something that hadn’t been authorized by the king or queen. Reema had asked them- even snuck into her mother and father's chamber and office spaces, looking for any suspicious documents. There was nothing.

So, it was clear. There would be a coup.

Naturally, the princess would have to return. The consequence of returning to the palace on her own was better than if she stayed out. Reema would be hunted down if she continued to run, hence why she was sat in the Great Hall now, with a feast in front her- steaming hot and almost ready to eat. All she, and the rest of the Cabinet, had to do was wait for the "lead duke."

The princess peered at her plate, then to the lord boy's next to her. "Well, that is a delicacy," she said to him. Her plate was riddled with unorganized slivers of asparagus lathered in some...sauce...she'd never seen. Reema didn't even like asparagus- those nasty sprouts of green.

"Say, what do you have?" She examined the plate on her left, another plate better than her own. "So that is how it is going to be." Poisoning. Did they really view her so pathetically they wouldn't even bother giving her a proper death? Reema sighed, standing from her seat and meandering to the head advisor's still-empty chair.

They all thought she was so naive, didn't they? That she wouldn't be able to spot a difference in meals. The least they could have done was give her a meal she actually liked, but then again, why waste pockets of coin on someone who would be dead within two bites anyways? It would have made sense if the princess weren't so secretly aware.

"I am not sure what rumours you have all heard, but I do so very much like a good roast." Reema reached past the massive cushioned chair and pulled the delicious dish away before setting her asparagus- they didn't even offer her any meat on her plate-down in its stead. "His Grace will not mind if his most honoured guest gets a proper meal, yes?" She took the roast back to her own seat.

Looking left and right again, the princess was delighted to see the astonished faces of the Cabinet. They did nothing- of course they wouldn't when not all of the guards were loyal to their cause. There were perhaps more guards who did support the menacing lords, but- well, who would want to take getting pierced in the heart by the few who didn't? Better to let the leading duke fall than to have five of them gutted.

The doors to the dining hall were opened and in stepped the great duke himself. "Good evening, lords and ladies. Princess, I do hope you were able to find yourself comfortable. The servants informed me of a fall you had in the woods before you came home from your little getaway."

Those hideous spies! Of course they were watching for me. Just how many people within the princess' own castle were working against her in secret?

"A minor inconvenience, Your Grace." Reema watched as the duke crossed to the other side of the table and a servant pulled out his seat. He eyed his plate; the princess had to withhold a smile. "It was only a bruise." Only a bruise from the hand of a traitorous guard gripping her arm as she approached the front gates. Her smile fell into a thin, and controlled, line.

Seeing the devious duke sit where her father once did ripped into her gut and shredded every piece of her, but the anger and cunning outwitted the pain and sorrow she felt. The duke would die and then she would move on to taking the others out- hopefully, assuming they didn't get to her first. The odds of her surviving were seeming less and less likely.

"I did want to thank you for inviting me to this meal, Your Grace. I am...appreciative to have such a gracious and caring Cabinet to step in when...what is lost is lost." When my family has been viciously killed. The gut-wrenching feeling was growing stronger with every word Reema muttered. Maybe it was wrong of her to save her own life. Maybe she should have died with her family.

As the duke examined his plate of traded vegetables, Reema couldn't help but to wonder, Do they know I know of their crimes? They must not have if they thought poisoning her would work. Now, however, the duke eyed her with contempt.

"Shall we eat, Your Grace? The host always dines first." It would have been nice to admit that she felt quite nice having made such a statement, but seeing the way the duke's lower jaw jutted out made her nervous enough to swallow. No one at the rest of the table was objecting as His Grace forked a green stem, though.

The duke cleared his throat and eyed a servant standing nearby. "I believe I asked for the roast along with our guests."

"Perhaps we should just eat," said someone else at the table. Looking, Reema saw a knight- one who was once close with her brother. So, the knight was against killing the royal family at least. The princess would need to talk to him after this meal was over, see if he was willing to help her escape the same fate as her family. He might need saving, too. No one else in the Cabinet spoke up for a reason- it would make one a target.

"My Grace, I apologize, but there is no more roast. It was divided evenly between each guest member, except for the dish of-" The servant was cut off with a quick shush, though many may have called it a hiss.

Lifting the fork to his lips, the duke stared at a wall above everyone's head. Perhaps he was facing Death herself in those moments he bit into the green vegetable. His nose twitched, but the rest of the effects did not take place until minutes later. He coughed, gripping his throat as everyone was digging into their own meals.

Reema did not touch her plate- just in case the rest of the Cabinet had been planning to poison the duke already. It was perhaps paranoid, but when she was sat at a table of people fully willing to kill her family, she would have been dense to assume they would not try their hand at killing each other as well.

When the duke's coughs turned to chokes, the table was dismissed by one of the lords, presumably one who would next try his hand at leading the betraying Cabinet.

Standing from her seat, Reema rushed to her brother's friend, the knight, but both she and he were stopped. Her, by the arm of the lord boy who sat to her right- and the knight, by three separate men. The only reason the lord boy could stop Reema was because his hand laid where her bruise was.

"Let go of me, now."

"I am to escort you to your rooms," the boy said, certainly not letting go, and even going as far as to tighten his grip on her.

Reema, with little thought, shoved him with her free hand, unknowingly gaining the attention of those working to restrain the knight. "Under whose orders? I am your princess- queen." She was the queen now, wasn't she? Not officially, for there had not been a coronation to prestige her, but yes. Reema was Queen now. "You will release me this instant."

A new voice interceded. "No can do, Princess." The lord who dismissed dinner. Reema rolled her eyes, ceasing her small efforts of rebellion and control. "No more adventures into the woods. However you snuck there before, I have not a clue, but I promise you this; it will not be happening again." A breath. "Son, I believe I told you to take her away."

With a quick and high-pitched laugh, the princess shrugged a shoulder- her free one, of course. The lord boy was Sir Big Lord's son, huh? Perfect.

If the lord had been a Lady of the Court, Reema might have used a fist aimed high. Being a lord, though, all she had to do was jut a knee up.

The lord fell to a knee, hands over his groin. The son, in turn, released the princess- as she so pleasantly requested before.

Now, she just had to face the rest of the Cabinet in order to reach the knight. The ladies wouldn't be an issue. They valued their reputable poise and silent seething too much to intervene- especially when they knew the princess was willing to physically fight her new opponents in order to fend for herself. It was the men- the ones with swords on their...a realization dawned on Reema.

Swords and other weapons were taken from Cabinet members when they entered the Great Hall. Those would be outside the great doors. And although Reema's nails were riddled with dirt, they were still long and sharp.

Reema would claw her way to the knight if she had to.

[colderthancoldest]

An Easy Alliance

Prompt: "You're here." "I'm here, just like I promised." & "I came back for you. I promised I would, and I did." (This Request)

Ao3 Link

Pairing: Dhawan!Master × Reader

Word Count: about 5k

Summary:  It's not easy to be a human with a Tardis. You have a doorway to any where and time in the universe- however, the catch is that the worlds on the other side are often treacherous and it feels like they're against you at every turn. You begin to wonder if it's worth it, if you even deserve this opportunity, when a stranger saves you from it- in more ways than one. Maybe you're worth more than you know.

Various Tags: First meeting, falling in love, fluff and angst, happy ending, my goal is that you will cry but laugh by the end, im ambitious like that, relationship is open to interpretation

Warning: Feelings of Depression, passive suicidal thoughts (It's not that dark, it's actually quite optimistic by the end, but I always add a warning for anyone sensitive to these topics. Please stay safe, thank you.)

Note: Please let me know what you think! I don't often write in this style so I really appreciate feedback! Enjoy :D

---

~

It's not easy to be a human with a Tardis.

It's a bit of a long story as to how you've obtained a Tardis of your own in the first place.

Essentially you found it, purely by accident. The ship had fled from the Time War and was left to rot when it's pilot was killed. Tardises are known to be temperamental, and humans are notoriously weak telepaths- but neither of you would get anywhere without each other.

In short, you struck up a deal. You take care of the Tardis, learn how to maintain her, and in return- she becomes your door to anywhere and any time in the universe.

It's difficult, seeing as the two of you can't communicate the way telepaths are able to talk to Tardises, but she- the Tardis insisted 'she'- was making do.

She translated the manual for you, provided you with food and clothes and shelter, and was patient as you slowly learned how to fix and fly her.

As if teaching yourself every inch of advanced and sentient technology wasn't difficult enough- you also found yourself deeply out of place in the far away lands the Tardis took you to.

You're human. You're mortal. You look, dress, and act in a way that's out of place in most non-human societies. Even humans from the distant future- as little as a mere few centuries ahead- barely recognize you.

You're clever and fast, but it's not always enough.

It's all too easy to offend people from cultures you've never met. Even if you do nothing wrong, it's your word against theirs.

If you had a nickel for every time you've nearly been killed by a misunderstanding... Suffice it to say, you could easily afford the tungsten wiring your Tardis is always quick-tempered about.

~

It's in one of these situations that you meet... him.

You're alone, as you always are, with cuffs scratching at your wrists.

The locals of a planet from the future have opted to skip the 'fair trial' bit and head directly to execution.

Of all the ways to go, you can't help but feel a bit... disappointed. A human with a Tardis, a person with a door to anywhere in the known universe, to any time that's ever existed- and this is how it ends.

You suppose you've already gotten more out of life than you could have hoped.

Maybe it's best to quit while you're ahead.

"Really? That's all?" a voice echoes about the large room you're being detained in.

You whip your head about in a feeble and failing attempt to pinpoint the source of the noise. Whoever it is sounds almost amused.

"Someone so quick, someone who's been so careful with the hand they've been dealt, and you're willing to give it all up- here and now?" the strange voice questions.

You spin your head around but there's nothing except shadows. You're set to die at noon and it's barely dawn.

"Who said anything about giving up?" you reply sharply.

You're scared, but that's no reason to show it. You grit your teeth and glare into the darkness around you. You can't pinpoint the figure meandering about in the dark.

"Why? You did, my dear," the voice replies, sounding pleasantly amused.

You squint in a failing attempt to make out the shape stepping into the pale moonlight.

"Me? You don't know a thing about me! I've never met you in my life!" you retort.

And you know this, because you've barely met anyone. You travel to see the sights, not to interfere. You visit worlds to satisfy your curiosity and nothing more. Whoever this is, you've certainly never told them who you are.

The stranger only chuckles faintly.

"I know all about you. A human with a Gallifreyan Tardis? I've been observing you ever since I first detected your ship on Earth.

Then again, it's not your ship- is it?"

Your eyes widen momentarily, but you're quick to force your racing heart back down your throat.

"What I do is none of your business," you defend yourself.

"And what I do is none of yours," the stranger replies in a passive song.

"However," they continue.

They step out from the dark and into the white streaks of moonlight sneaking in from the skylight in the ceiling.

They... look like a human man. A... quite well-kept and well-dressed human man.

A deep purple jacket over an eccentric checkered suit, perfect dark hair that curls at the ends like waves over his face, and dark but shining eyes to match.

You can tell in an instant that you've never met anyone like this before.

"Things have grown dull and you're the first exception to the rule I've seen in a very long time," he says in a tone that suggests this confession is somehow a compliment. "You're never after anything. You only observe."

He tilts his head.

"As much as I dislike humans, somehow- you're different."

He paces about you until you can't see him anymore because of the way the cuffs keep you pinned to the chair in the middle of the room.

You lose sight of him for a brief second.

You fear the worst but then...

The cuffs fall with a clink and your hands are suddenly free.

"For you and only you," he says as he paces back into your field of vision, "I propose an alliance."

"An alliance?" you echo flatly. It's a question, to get him to elaborate, but also a surprise.

All your time traveling, and no one's ever offered you such a thing before.

"Yes, dear," he says in a way that you would assume was patronizing if not for the polite tone of his voice, "an alliance. Your human mind is so loud, I've heard you wondering to yourself how to communicate with your ship, how to repair her, how to fly her. I can be beneficial in that field."

He sounds proud of himself.

You don't cave quickly. You aren't that naive.

You haven't made it through countless adventures- your feet pounding over the surfaces of countless planets, escaping all sorts of dangers- without being careful.

"And in return?" you ask cautiously. There has to be a catch somewhere.

"In return, you help me," he says warmly.

He looks you over with an amused smirk at his lips.

"You see, I have big plans for a certain enemy of mine. However, I don't have time to deal with the day-to-day nonsense of Earth. You help me with the little things and in return, whenever you need saving, I promise to be there."

He taps his chest with a prideful grin.

"I swear on my hearts."

You brush past him as you make your way for the door. You'd better get going before the guards return for your scheduled execution.

The sun is coming up, dying the sky a beautiful purple haze.

"You think that's something you can promise? All of time and space, and you expect me to believe that?" you scoff at his words, "You'll abandon me the moment it's convenient. No deal," you tell him.

He slips past you and reaches an arm across the doorframe to block your path. You cross your arms and glare at him.

To your surprise, he looks angry.

"I'll have you know I take great offence to that! I make good on my promises- unlike some people," he grumbles that last part to himself.

"If I say I won't abandon you, I won't abandon you. If I say I'll be back, I'll come back," he says sharply as he stares you down.

There's something in the way he locks his jaw, something in the way he takes offense to your distrust, something about the way he scrunches his nose and his brows- that make you realize he's telling the truth.

"I keep my word," he insists gravely. "Which is something- you'll find in this universe- not many people do. This arrangement is mutually beneficial. You won't be offered a better deal than this."

You exchange a glare with him for a long moment.

His gentle features are twisted up in anger, his eyes betray and old pain that you've dug up by offending him, his hand remains locked on the doorframe to block your path- and, for some reason, it makes you smile.

You huff a small breath.

"You haven't done this whole 'alliance proposition' thing before, have you?" you ask him.

He falters.

"I haven't had any need for it before," he reasons. "However, I'm currently on a bit of a schedule. I have a lot of dominos to set up before my best enemy arrives to topple them," he admits. His expression softens at the mention of this 'best enemy'.

You pat his shoulder and then pry his hand from the doorframe to pass him by.

He caves easily and follows you outside.

The dawn is breaking and you still need to get back to your ship.

"Alright," you decide with a small sigh.

You do need help with your Tardis and- more than anything- you certainly need someone to watch your back.

It's not every day some well dressed stranger saves you from your own curiosity. You feel obligated to return the favor- seeing as he did just save your life- so you decide you might as well make the most of it.

"What do you need me to do?" you ask, hopefully and yet still bracing for the worst.

Your newest ally grins.

~

He mostly wants information about Earth. He doesn't tell you why- and you don't ask.

It doesn't matter all that much to you anyway. With your Tardis, you've watched whole apocalypses pass you by. You've grown numb to it. In the end, it's always just a different verse of the same old worn-out song.

You're tired and nothing holds your interest for long anymore. Whatever he's planning, you doubt it'll have any effect on you. You might as well keep up your end of the deal.

Once you gather everything on the requested topic, he asks for information on a new one. He wants to know about Cybermen next. He wants to know about The Great Cyberwars- but only odd specifics from near the end that were left undocumented.

You begin to get the feeling that he needs to research their timeline for some reason, but he has an odd fear of them simultaneously. He doesn't want to get too close to the subject.

Again, you don't ask what it's for- and in return: you get more than you gave.

Your latest ally- he has yet to give you his name- plays translator for your Tardis. He explains bits of the manual you were stuck on and how the Tardis functions as a unit.

He's polite and- once you get past his gallows humor- he can be quite funny.

He explains how certain pieces of the Tardis controls have to be flipped in unison because Tardises are meant to have multiple pilots.

He's odd, he's blunt, and strangest of all: he's a very good cook.

He's the kind of person who always has a secret up their sleeve and he surprises you in all the best ways.

You... begin not to mind his company.

He always seems to know what you're about to say before you say it. You blame that part on his psychic abilities.

However, it's almost nice to be understood in that way. In an abstract, personal, understanding way you've never known before.

In response, he gauges that your words and actions are genuine. His ability to sense your unfiltered thoughts let him know that it's safe to open up to you in return, little by little.

Without even realizing the gradual change- he's suddenly a friend.

~

Now when you go out on adventures, when you're a lone mortal facing down the strange and terrifying perils of the universe, you're drastically less afraid.

Instead of passing through with your head down, you're able to stare up at the stars and admire then. You can safely look forwards rather than watching over your shoulder.

You're living instead of surviving.

It happened so gradually, you'd barely even noticed.

~

One day your Tardis lands in a heavily guarded patch of sacred land. It looks like the hillside near a heavily fortified church.

You're not fast enough to explain why you're there, and even if you were- the local authority won't let you. They're very strict people with very black and white thinking.

You're tied to a chair and tossed in the back corner of the guard outpost. So few people get this far past their defenses that the locals don't even have a proper prison to toss you in.

It's a long day indeed, awaiting whatever fate they have planned for you.

You're stuck in the box, alone, tied up in the dull silence. It's... annoying. Instead of wondering if perhaps you deserve it, you decide to escape.

At some point, the guard leaves you alone. You kick the chair around and reach for the scissors on the guard's desk with your hand pinned tight to the metal frame of the chair with rope.

You don't have a chance of escaping, the physics simply aren't there. And even if you get untied, you'll never make it far alive. Still, that doesn't mean you're not going to try. You're not going to let the universe- nor your own apathy and fear- get the best of you this time.

A different guard returns all too quickly. They're draped in the huge robes that the people who occupy this 'holy' land always wear. Of all the possible places to visit, you not only landed in the most heavily fortified part but also the most boring. It was basically just a monastery with a military guarding it.

You're not sure how you're going to reason yourself out of the fact that it very clearly looks like you're trying to escape.

You sharply kick at the guard's knee. It's all you can do. You're not sure if you can take them down, but it's worth a shot-

"Bloody- F- Gah- Do you mind?!"

You recoil visibly at the familiar voice.

"You?" You ask sharply.

The faux-guard pulls their hood down to reveal a familiar face. He looks quite annoyed.

"Actually, my acquaintances call me, O- but yes. It's me.

We made an agreement after all!" he hisses as if this all should be obvious to you.

"You're here," you observe, still quite shocked by the reveal.

He only rolls his eyes.

"Yes. I'm here, just like I promised. Do you really think so little of me?

I told you. When you need saving, I'll be there.

I keep my promises."

Without bothering to ask, he takes a seat on your lap. He sits sideways so the pressure doesn't pinch your thighs- which, all things considered- is quite polite of him.

He reaches down to his injured leg and rubs it with his hand for a moment. He appears to have a previous injury in that leg, and you very clearly haven't helped matters. Either way, once he's chalked up your assault to some bruising, he brushes the injury off.

"No, I'm just surprised," you tell him.

"You didn't think I would save you?" he asks, a little disappointed.

You press your lips together in a neutral expression. Whatever you think of saying, he already knows every word of it.

"I couldn't bet my life on it," you say simply.

He pulls a knife from his pocket and reaches around you to to saw through the tough rope.

"You tried to escape this time," he observes aloud.

You bite your tongue.

Yes, you did- didn't you?

It's interesting, the things you've begun to do ever since you gained someone to share your travels with. Someone who knows what it's like to do all of this. Someone who... knows what it's like to spend it alone, spending every day wondering if you're worth it.

He must hear your thoughts, as per usual, because he can't look you in the eye. He soon stands up again and leads you out.

He doesn't say another word as you return to your separate Tardises and leave.

~

Things get better from there and soon it's a pattern.

You have fun, on your own. You see the sights, you walk the streets, you eat the food. It's quiet, but it's nice not to have anyone else with you to color the world in any other way than it already is.

It's you and the world.

You and your flirts with danger.

You and narrowly escaping the authorities.

You and wondering directly into the jaws of the latest beast- only to be met with the familiar eyes of someone who is no longer a stranger.

"Again?" he asks.

Sometimes he plays dress up, sometimes he simply hypnoses the guards to let him through, but no matter the situation he's always dramatic about it.

Seeing him always brings a smile to your face. It's rare, but it's always familiar. Being 'saved' becomes more of an excuse than a necessity.

There's a learning curve to traveling the universe and before long, you've reached it's peak. You learn what to do, what to say, how to keep yourself safe.

You don't need him anymore, but you're more than willing to let him drop in to 'save' you anytime. It becomes a comfort, to know that even when you mess up, you're worth saving.

Sometimes you're in the middle of taunting a guard who hasn't even arrested you yet and when he shows up to hypnotize the problem away.

And sometimes, he suggests that he'd better stick around for a bit to make sure you stay safe.

And sometimes you recommend the pair of you get food together, and sometimes that meal turns into a walk through the park, and sometimes that walk turns into laying in fields of grass, staring up at the stars, exchanging ideas about the possibilities of this big old universe you find yourselves in.

And sometimes you wonder why this person, who's so kindhearted and protective, so warm and good-humored, keeps you at arms length.

There's something more about him, you suspect. There has to be.

You're willing to bet anything that it's something dark- but he never shows it.

He's different when it comes to you. You're not certain why.

Is it because you can't lie to him? Is it because you're honest with him? Is it because you don't ask, you don't press, you just let him be at your side whenever he chooses?

~

It hits you all at once one day that perhaps this arrangement has become more.

It stays true to its core, to be mutually beneficial and serve in favor both parties personal interests, but that's not all it is anymore.

Without realizing, it's suddenly two parties who mean a great deal to each other. Suddenly, you're choosing to help each other rather than acting in order to receive something in return.

You're not scared of danger anymore. You know how to get out of it now- and even if you can't, you know he'll be there.

You trust that he'll be there.

He's no longer contingency, he's normalcy.

You're never traveling alone because he's always there, in the back of your mind, as you wonder if he might join you should the opportunity arise.

Maybe you should voice this next time you see him.

~

When you run into him, you're offering information- per another strangely specific request- that you obtained from a library in the distant future that your ally may or may not be banned from.

You consider asking why he can't fetch it himself, but you don't. He either offers information or not. One of the rules is that neither of you ask about the others' personal business.

When you arrive at your typical meeting place, his own Tardis is a mess.

It looks... like a cluttered house inside.

The way it's decorated feels very unlike someone like him.

He immediately hugs you as you enter. That's how you know something's wrong.

You catch him rather than hug him. You suddenly feel too sick to remember any of the things you had wanted to tell him.

"What's wrong?" is all you ask softly.

He crumbles.

He remains as elegant and unyielding as always, but it's easy to feel that he's trembling. His breathing shakes and his fingers lock into the fabric of your coat.

It feels like a long time, ages, until he gets out a small sentence.

"I... have to go away for a while."

You're scared to know what that means.

"How long?" You ask tearfully.

"It depends," he breathes quietly.

"On what?"

"If my plan works."

There's a long silence as his words hang heavy in the air.

You don't know what to say.

The rule is that neither of you ask about the others' personal business.

You want to honor that rule but... the way he's acting... it scares you.

He clings to you, his fingers clawing desperately at your sleeves as he hangs his head down low, but he doesn't know what to say either.

Eventually... he decides on a sentence.

"Do you remember... when we first met?" he asks quietly.

You nod.

"How could I forget?" you chuckle warmly in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

He smiles for a split second. It comes and goes in the blink of an eye. He shakes his head and his expression grows darker as if he's scolding himself for something.

He lets go of your clothes and turns away.

"You didn't bother trying to escape on your own. The whole universe at your fingertips and... you didn't know what to do with it.

I could hear your mind- I always can- and that day you... were about to give up fighting."

You look off to the side and let your eyes fall to the floor.

It's true. The whole universe ahead of you and you were nearly too tired to keep living in it.

You don't believe you deserved to find the Tardis anyways.

Who were you to have a doorway to the universe? Who were you to intrude where you didn't belong? You never belong anywhere anyways. That was why you left Earth in the first place.

There was never anywhere you fit. The only way you can justify your existence is by being useful, to the Tardis, and then to your new friend.

On your own... you're no one. Sometimes you wonder why you bother at all.

"What about it?" you ask coldly as you cross your arms.

You don't want to think about that anymore.

The two of you.... Helping each other gives you purpose. It gives you something to keep busy with.

You still felt the way you felt before you knew him sometimes, but you're improving. That has to be worth something.

He looks sad and broken.

You suddenly remember that he can hear every abstract hint of emotion racing through your mind.

"I feel that way too," he confesses.

His words hurt to hear.

He slowly wonders off through the room. There he goes. Keeping you at arms length again.

"It's been fun... but it isn't sustainable. My lifespan is far longer than yours. It's not worth... us hurting each other over something that can't last."

He shakes his head.

"All this time," he begins, "I've been working towards an end. I'm going to make a stand with my best enemy. I'm going to tell her everything I've learned.

I'm going to make it so that she doesn't have another choice.

I'm going to end something that should have never existed. For good."

He sounds determined all of a sudden. His last mission.

He turns to you abruptly.

"I'm telling you this because I won't be able to help you anymore," he says steadily.

You blink at the tears in your eyes.

Oh.

So...

That's what he means.

"I... understand," is all you can say.

There's a long moment of silence and then-

You rush over to hug him. He lifts you up until your toes can barely reach the ground. He holds you tight against him and spins you about as your tears splash onto the shoulder of his coat.

You want to beg him not to go, but you know he's been preparing for this. He's clearly made up his mind. There's nothing you can do to stop him.

And anyways.

He already knows what you're thinking.

"It'll be okay," he promises.

You want to believe him.

You can't.

~

It's quiet now.

Something about it all makes everything else feel quieter.

Everything feels... perhaps distant is the word you're actually looking for.

And you feel tired again. No, apathetic is what you're looking for. As if you can't bring yourself to care about the real world anymore.

You feel like you're back where you started.

You don't know what to do.

You have more than you deserve. You're smarter than you know what to do with. You're more than ever before and yet as powerless as always.

Or...

Maybe not.

You know more now. You can do more now.

You know what you're capable of when you aren't afraid and- as terrified as you are right now- you know what the right thing to do is.

It's time to put everything you've learned to good use. He’s saved your life after all- in far more ways than one. It’s time you return the favor.

~

"Doctor!" the Master shouts as the Doctor abandons him for the latest of countless times.

Why is he surprised anymore?

He should know by now that she always finds a loophole in his foolproof plans. That she always runs from danger. That she always leaves him in the end.

Now some idiot no-one cyberman-resistance soldier has pressed a button to detonate a planet-destroying bomb.

He'll be dead in seconds. Shattered into atoms and quirks and nothingness.

For as much as the Doctor leaves him, the Master simply can't bring himself to leave her. He can't stop chasing her.

Quite soon, he won't have a choice.

This is it. This is what finally pushes him over the edge.

If the Doctor can leave him for dead like this then... she isn't the person he thought she was anymore. He'll finally learn better. He'll finally give up on her.

It was a shame it was too late.

The particle is active.

He runs but... he isn't going to reach his Tardis in time.

He's alone.

~

And then suddenly he's not.

Suddenly he isn't in the crumbling Matrix room anymore. He isn't on Gallifrey at all.

He's standing, safe and sound, being held tight in someone's arms.

He comes to his senses slowly. The seconds don't feel real as they pass. He looks up to see that he's in your Tardis, in your arms, looking up at your face.

"You..." he breathes. He can barely feel reality around him.

"It just took a bit of fancy flying to swoop in, just a second in time, and save you," you smile at him.

He stares in disbelief.

"You came back for me," he says breathlessly.

"Of course I came back for you!" you chuckle. "It's like you're always saying. I promised I would, and I did."

"Saving you is my job!" he replies, still in shock.

"I had to return the favor sometime," you smile.

His face is still locked in an expression of disbelief. He's still processing this.

You decide to make it easier on him.

"How about this:" you suggest with a heavy heart, "we go back to saving each other. To adventures and pastimes and pretending this is nothing more than a profession partnership.

Most importantly, we both take it one day at a time.

And down the road, when we're done, once we've had all our fun, then we'll find out a way to go out in style.

Together."

He contemplates this for a moment.

"You won't be offered a better deal than this," you smirk. "You'd be smart to take it."

He shakes his head.

"No," he says firmly.

Your eyes widen.

"No?" You ask nervously.

The Master takes your hands in his own and laces your fingers together. He moves closer, his face inches from yours.

"No," he repeats. "I don't want to go back to how things were. I want a proper partnership.

You and me and the universe.

I don't know how I didn't see it before."

You laugh warmly as he presses his forehead to yours.

"I'll do it right this time," he promises. "I took care of what I needed to. No one will ever bother us now.

We can..."

His eyes darted about as he searched for the right words.

He held your hands tighter in his own.

"We can go back to saving each other- the universe be damned.

Every day.

For as long as you want," he promises wholeheartedly.

"Whenever you need saving, I'll be there."

Your heart is racing.

It's all you could ever want and more.

He is all you could ever want and more.

You don't need to agree out loud. He already knows. You voice it anyway.

"Okay," you grin.

~

In a strange way, you understand now.

You understand why he saved you.

You learned how to fly this Tardis. You learned how to save your friend from the clutches of death.

You are worth the life you've made for yourself and more.

You deserve to be happy- and you plan to be.

You don't know why you ever believed you didn't.

You have a doorway to anywhere. You have a hand to hold. You have a partner who would burn down every planet in the sky for you.

It's time to go out there and get in trouble and make mistakes. To fight the same old fight against every new day and always emerge triumphant.

And your partner is working on a new project. Something to do with regenerative healing using research he stole from the shambles of his old home.

With any luck, maybe the two of you can travel the universe forever.

~

[krreader]

BTS reacting to your daughter wanting to become an idol.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: language genre: angst ; fluff word count: 2k+

a/n: sooo, I wasn’t sure if you wanted the main argument to be the dieting, but I feel like there are a lot more reasons why they’d be worried, so I hope you don’t mind me only putting diets as one of the many reasons. nevertheless, I hope you like it ♥

kim seokjin

“We were seven men and we had our own struggles. What do you think happens when it's seven women who are constantly getting compared to each other?” Jin stood in front of your daughter with his arms crossed in front of his chest, “Do you know what's going to happen? They're going to say things like: 'Oh, you've gained more weight than her, you need to be put on a diet now'.”

“I'll deal with that if it comes down to it, dad, but I'm old enough to know what I'll be putting myself through and I'm making this decision with or without your approval,” she got up and copied his pose and once again, you could see that she truly was his daughter.

You got up with a sigh, standing between the two before the argument could escalate any further.

“We're worried and you know we have every reason to be. So how about we make a deal. You do your thing, you agree and join the company, but your father is allowed to monitor everything.”

“What, like I'm a baby?! I'm 16!”

“No, like a manager,” you turned around to look at your husband, “You've been itching to work in the industry again as well, just differently this time, this would be the perfect opportunity. Sira could become the idol she wants to be without having to worry about much, because you'll take care of her like the father that you are and the manager that you could be.”

It certainly was an odd proposal, there weren't many idols that were managed by their parents, but it has happened every now and then.

And it was something that both Jin and your daughter were ultimately okay with, because they both got their ways, even if not exactly how they thought they would.

min yoongi

“Aren't you... going to say anything?” your daughter pushed her food around, her eyes on her father who wasn't looking at her at all.

You were feeding your baby to your right, your eyes switching from her to him, afraid of what this might turn into.

“So you want to become their slut.”

“Yoongi!” you immediately complained.

“No, (Y/N),” Yoongi looked up, first at you, then at your daughter, “You have no idea how fucked up this industry really is. Why do you think I left when I did? Why do you think I did everything I could to protect you from this life? Do you want to starve yourself for the rest of your life? Do you want to portray a version of yourself that you're not until the day you die?”

“I didn't do anything yet, dad! They just made an offer, I didn't say anything yet!” she was upset, clearly, “I'm sorry, I should have just said no.”

But when she started sobbing, Yoongi's hard shell broke down immediately and his shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh.

“Listen, I know you love music, but becoming an idol is not the way to go. If you're serious about music, I can help you get in touch with the right people, people that won't use you like the agencies would in a position of as an idol.”

She nodded, even though she was still crying.

Later that night, you ended up joining her in her bed, holding her close while explaining to her why Yoongi had been so upset. Why he was so scared for her and that he didn't do this to punish her, but simply to protect her.

And thankfully, she understood.

jung hoseok

“How much sleep do you get nowadays?” Hoseok asked.

“I don't know.. seven to nine hours?”

“Forget that. You'll get four if you're really lucky, two on a normal day and none if you have comebacks. How much do you weigh right now?”

“Why are you asking me this?” your daughter clearly became uncomfortable.

“Because they will be asking you. They will want to know whether to put you on a diet or not because you are 'too fat' for this industry.”

You let out a frustrated sigh and cupped your daughter's face, “He's not sugarcoating it like I would have, but he's right. This industry isn't as beautiful as you think it is and your father has seen it up close, so he’s not just saying these things to scare you off,” you kissed her forehead, “I know that you're currently in a stage of your life where you don't know what step is the next to take and I know that it's scary not to know, but please do not make any rash decisions and sign any contracts. Think about this... carefully.”

She did... because you didn't raise her to be naive and stupid.

kim namjoon

“Do you know why we disbanded, sweetheart?” Namjoon's voice was gentle, his eyes on his other daughter picking flowers in the garden.

“You... never really went into details about that,” but she was instantly curious and straightened her back, crossing her legs on the bench that she was sitting on.

“At that time, we reached the peak of our careers. There truly was nowhere else to go, but people still expected us to go higher and reach for more stars. But we were exhausted. We were.. depressed,” Namjoon's eyes flickered to you, since you had been the one to pull him out of that dark place once, “What me and your uncles have accomplished will forever be something I will cherish, but it is not a life I would wish for you. The never ending diets, the never ending stress and expectations... it's... horrible.”

“But there's perks too, right? I mean, you had amazing fans.”

“We did. And then we also had the ones that stalked us. The ones that sent us creepy letters. The ones that threatened to hurt our loved ones,” finally, he turned his head to look at her, “You and your sister should not grow up in a world like this. I want you to be able to eat what you want to eat without someone telling you that it has too many calories. I want you to be able to sleep in on the weekends after a long week of hard work. I want you to be able to go on vacations with your friends without having to worry for your safety. Do you understand what I mean?”

She didn't respond right away, but ultimately she smiled a little and nodded, “I understand, daddy.”

And boy, did you both let out a relieved sigh.

park jimin

“No,” Park Jimin was not the kind of father to say no without giving a reason, especially because he hardly could say no to his first and only daughter, the apple of his eye. But when she asked him about her possibly getting into BigHit, he instantly shut her down.

“But..-” her eyes widened, her lower lip already beginning to tremble and you, being stuck in the middle, turned your head to Jimin with a small smile, “Can you check up on Seungmin? Tell him it's almost dinner time.”

Jimin knew that you handling this conversation would be better anyways, so he did end up walking outside to check up on his son, while you turned around to your daughter and grabbed her hands, “Your father had a great life. He had a wonderful career that he doesn't regret having, but the wonderful things that you see online and hear from fans and friends and family... it wasn't always like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“When your father made his debut, he ended up struggling... a lot. Not because he wasn't good at singing, or dancing.. but because he felt like his face was too chubby. He felt like his abs weren't good enough. He felt like his legs didn't look strong enough,” when she looked confused, you kept on talking, “He went on one diet after the other and went days without eating anything, just because he felt like he had to. Now, imagine him having been a woman. And I really hate saying this in a modern time as this, but the world isn't as lenient with us as it is with men, and your father knows it, sweetheart. If one fan were to ever mention that you're one gram too heavy, the company would take it to heart and put you on a diet. And not just a diet for a week, a diet for a month, maybe a year. Your father has experienced this first hand and he just doesn't want you to live a life such as this too,” especially because she had inherited his beautiful cheeks from him and so he was worried that she’d go through the same things just because of that wonderful detail.

She hadn't known about this, because if she had, she never would have brought it up.

And after that day, after thinking about what you had said once again and after actually looking up what you had said and confirming it all, she never brought it up ever again.

And Jimin was more than glad about that.

kim taehyung

You both should have assumed that this would happen at some point.

Not only because of who Taehyung is and used to be, but because of who your daughter was. Confident, breathtakingly beautiful and talented. Of course, she'd want to pursue a career in a field such as this one.

“Listen,” Taehyung brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “You know your mother and I support you, no matter what you want to do, but this life that you're envisioning right now is not the life that you'll have.”

“He's right, sweetheart,” you sighed, “You are already struggling with keeping your life private, if you join BigHit, it'll get even worse. Then there's crazy fans, more so for you because of who your father used to be. And the diets.. the never ending diets..”

“I know you're worried and I can't blame you for it,” she grabbed her fathers hand and pulled it to her cheek, leaning against it, “But whatever happens, I know you two will have my back. That's why I want to do this, because I know that no matter what, I can always come back here and get my slice of normality and love.”

It... kind of made you really proud to hear that, even if it didn’t decrease your worries.

jeon jeongguk

BigHit had been trying to get Jeongguk to sign up your daughter ever since she was old enough to walk and talk, but he had always denied them.

Now, however, she was old enough to make her own decisions, and her saying yes, didn't come as a surprise to either of you.

“Don't you think there's a reason I kept telling them off?” Jeongguk was angry. Angry at BigHit, angry at his daughter and most importantly, angry at himself that he didn't put a stop to this once and for all, “Do you want to starve yourself for the rest of your life to be the perfect doll that they want you to be?”

But instead of yelling back, she actually listened to every little bad thing that he had to say.

Only when he let out a frustrated sigh and dropped down on the couch next to her, did she speak: “I know this isn't what either of you wanted for me and I'm sorry I'm worrying you like this, especially you dad, but this is my life and my decision.”

You decided to join in, your hand on your daughter's lower back, “It's not that we wouldn't support you, but this life is hard. We're just scared for you.”

“I know, mom,” but she was stubborn and so with one last glance at her father, she said: “I'm sorry, daddy, but it’s what I’m going to do,” and got up to go into her room.

All that Jeongguk could do now was keep BigHit in check. Every little thing they wanted to do to your daughter had to go through him.

She didn't know about this and he made sure that she never would... but it was the only way that Jeongguk would allow this to happen.

[lovelyirony]

made up fic title: icarus, icarus (you flew too high)

"There is a kind of tragic joke. You can’t really keep a man down -good but often otherwise- because history’s mechanics are built to keep him from climbing toward the top. Somehow, Icarus gets to be reborn as Iron Man.” -Wesley Morris

When Tony was young, he didn’t think that limitations really ever mattered to someone like him, and...he was right. They didn’t matter. 

The Starks were a family you never crossed because one overly-polite tone of disapproval from Maria Stark could send your social pedigree reeling. Just one scoff from Howard Stark sends your whole world plummeting. 

And Tony? 

Well...he learned both sides of the coin. There’s no telling what kind of damage he would do if he cared about others enough to. 

At least, that’s the picture he paints for all to see. The mediums he use are just fascinating. 

When Tony was little, he was the darling of American media. Whip-smart but in the “aw gee mister” Dennis the Menace nature that earned a ruffle of the hair, a disapproving-but-gentle-smile from his mother. 

Outside of the cameras, Tony was left alone. His mother would much rather dedicate her time to her socialite friends, trying to rejuvenate the feeling of youth that had fled so long ago, rushing in expectations of adulthood that she was loath to accept. 

His father wanted to focus on a man that was left on faded posters, advertising war bonds and a solution to a war that involved far more than anyone wanted to admit. Howard Stark much preferred to look through the world with amber-tinted glasses, and he didn’t much care if his son had a different tint. 

The thing about Tony as a child was this: he really was naive. Looking back on it, he should’ve seen his parents’ faults. 

But when you’re a kid, and when you watch TV shows and you read books for kids your age, all of the pictures and words depict parents as loving. 

So you think yours are too. 

Or, you think that maybe they’ll love you if you do the right thing. You don’t really know what the right thing is, so then you look towards one thing you should never look to: perfection. 

Maybe if you can get straight A’s, your mom will look at your report card and she’ll be proud. 

Maybe if you can perfect the robotics of one of the machines that your dad has been having trouble with, he’ll take an interest in what you have to say about the possibility of mirror technology for planes for the military. 

Neither of these work. 

So maybe if you look perfect. Maybe if you never have a hair out of place, maybe if you attain the everyone-wants-to-be-me status your parents will notice. 

And they won’t. 

They never do, and Tony? Well. 

Sometimes, people realize that it is not their fault that their parents are terrible people. Others don’t, and they internalize that. They think it’s their fault. 

Tony works hard. He studies everything, and he just wants someone to love him for himself. 

And then he goes to college. 

Thrown into a situation where there is no parent to impress but they’re still hoping that the heir of Stark Industries makes good decisions. 

And he does. 

He’s nice to everyone and any time any of the staff wants him to go for any publicity stunt, he does. He wears slacks and button-downs and drags himself out of bed and brings extra pens for giddy autographs and answers every single question comparing him to Howard with a glittering smile. 

Tony’s so fucking tired. He’s just...it’s all too much. 

He doesn’t do anything drastic, of course. No, too many eyes on him for that. Doesn’t want to become the next celebrity shut-in for a “delicate constitution” and “stress from work” or whatever bullshit his mom will sell to the papers to make sure that his legacy stays untainted from any malicious words. 

But he does sit outside at two in the morning. Doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain or snowing or so bitterly cold that after about twenty minutes he doesn’t feel his fingers. 

There’s a person at the front desk who sees him every single time he goes outside. 

James Rhodes, who did not originally want the night-owl shift, but got guilt-tripped into it because Hope needed to help her mom at her house. 

So now, here he is. 

Staring at Tony Stark, who still wears the button-down shirts and slacks outside and doesn’t carry a fucking umbrella. 

Jesus, it’s fucking depressing. He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to be sad at the front desk for someone else’s sake. 

The next time, it’s a torrential downpour. Thundering and lightning comes crashing, and the windows shake with the noise. 

And there he goes. 

Except before he steps out, comes back soaked, James does the only thing he can think to do: 

"Tony Stark, you get your ass back in here,” he says. 

He knows he shouldn’t have said that. 

You say one thing to a rich white kid and you’re down the drain. 

Tony Stark just looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Get inside. You don’t need to go outside for anything.” 

“I didn’t know you noticed.” 

“You’re really the only person who comes here at two in the morning.” 

“I am?” 

“Well, besides people at parties on Friday nights.” 

“Oh.” 

“Why do you go outside?” 

Tony freezes. It’s not a question he wants to answer. 

“Why do you work so late?” 

“No one else wanted to.” 

“Oh. Why did you decide to work on-campus?” 

“Flexible hours and I don’t have to drive anywhere.” 

“That sounds nice. Are you really going to stop me from going outside?” 

There’s another clap of thunder, white flashing all across the room from the windows, the windows themselves shaking. The rain pounds harder. 

“I think if you go outside you’ll come back looking like a drowned rat, and you really don’t wanna look like that.” 

“And what do I want to look like?” Tony asks. 

“I don’t know,” Rhodey says. “But drowned-rat-look was so two years ago.” 

Tony cracks a grin at that. 

“Can’t argue with that flawless logic. I’ll see you later.” 

And he walks off, as casual as can be. 

Thunder still shakes the building. 

But James is a little bit more at peace. 

- 

And then. 

Of course there’s an “And then” portion. 

Howard and Maria Stark die. 

It was a car crash, an accident. James avoids seeing the papers that don’t seem to care how graphic the pictures are, they’ll show it. 

He doesn’t know how to approach Tony Stark about this predicament, but everyone else, it seems, is just dying to, so-

Oh god. Yeah. Bad timing. 

Tony Stark does not come down the stairs at two a.m. for a week. For more than half of that week he is back home. But on the last day, he is there. 

He looks tired. Which of course he looks tired. He’s had people shove cameras in his face and he probably had to go over wills and estate hearings or whatever it is he needed to do. 

“I’m not coming back,” he tells Jim. 

“For the year, or for a long time?” he asks, because that kind of thing is something he’d like to know. 

“Ever. They don’t want me to start running the company.” 

“Why not?” 

“They say I’m too young. But that’s not the real reason.” 

“Okay.” 

And James leaves it at that. Because he is very much so not looking for any drama, it’s already drama enough that Tony’s parents died and there are already conspiracy gossip magazines just running with it. 

Tony is CEO, or at least co-CEO. He graces the covers of Forbes and Vogue and any other magazine that has any sort of interest in him. 

Another “and then” moment: 

He goes missing. 

He said he was ready for more responsibility, according to an article from Forbes. 

(What? James can keep up with news.) 

Tony Stark was ready for more responsibility, to prove that he could do what everyone said he couldn’t, to prove that he could further a legacy he didn’t want in the first place. 

So there was the Jericho missile. The demonstration went fine, all things considered by the US military report. 

The problem was that the cars got hijacked and Tony Stark was presumed dead. 

Ah. 

Another American society family gone to history books, and James Rhodes knew one of them at least on a somewhat personal level. 

He wasn’t going to tell anyone. 

At least not until he needed to pay off a loan or something. He’s not even sure what people would do with the fact that Tony Stark was a night owl who liked spending time outdoors. 

Maybe it’s because James Rhodes is gearing up for the military (at least, he thinks?) or maybe it’s because when he can’t go to bed he spends his time watching conspiracy videos and he shouldn’t do that, especially with all of the misinformation out there. 

People don’t think that Tony disappearing was a coincidence. It makes sense. 

Months after his parents death, and he assumes the role of CEO a year earlier than anticipated? 

Obadiah Stane has been working at that company for Tony’s entire lifetime and then some. It had to sting knowing someone without the “proper” years of education and familiarity would take over and maybe ruin whatever it was you had planned. 

So James Rhodes is kind of Concerned. 

- 

“You’re doing what?” His mama says over the phone. 

“I’m not gonna join Air Force,” Jim says to his mother. 

She’s been trying to convince him not to for about a solid year now. The reason she gives him is that he’s a damned fool who would probably get sent home with a broken foot or something anyways. He rolls his eyes at this. 

(The real reason is that she doesn’t want to see an American flag draped across a coffin she shouldn’t have had to consider.) 

“So what made you change your mind?” Dad asks. 

“Career opportunity. I’m going to work at Stark Industries.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Research and Development, plus a little bit of testing. I’ve been talking with a couple of friends.” 

“Which friends?” 

“You don’t know them, Ma.” 

“Why not?” 

James lets out a frustrated breath. 

“Because they’re from college.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know them.” Mama scoffs, and he can hear her moving around the kitchen.

“You-I’m not gonna argue. You don’t know them, I do, and I’m going to see if I can get hired at Stark Industries or not. I’ll call you as soon as I get news.” 

- 

Stark Industries is hiring him as soon as he walks in for the department. With Tony gone, they need all the help they can get, even from someone with almost no experience. 

He learns. 

He learns a hell of a lot. 

He learns that Howard Stark was a fucking asshole who had no idea how anything worked, and everyone loves Tony because he’s fun and hardworking and he knows what the company needs. 

James hasn’t forgotten the message. 

They say I’m too young to be CEO. But that’s not the real reason. 

He doesn’t know what Tony means by that. 

Until Obadiah Stane starts talking. He’s always had a loose tongue, it’s part of why many SI employees can jump ahead of the curve on decisions and pick up loose ends. 

“The boy was always a jokester,” Obadiah says to his old colleagues, the ones who reek of cigar smoke and outrageously expensive alcohol. “Never wanted to play it seriously, and that’s how it was with the Jericho, you know? Just like his old man, Anthony was.” 

He gets a bad taste in his mouth. 

Tony was never someone to joke, at least not all the time. He had quips for the cameras, but he never once spoke out of turn. He was almost impossible to get a negative reaction out of, had never really had any press scandals that James knew of. No one spoke about anything if it had happened.

James decides to do something that is most definitely illegal, and will most likely make him homeless: 

He accesses files that he’s not supposed to. Files on Stane’s computer, files that no one else has access to besides a remote access somewhere in Afghanistan. 

Tony Stark. 

Sitting in a ripped up tank top, blood all over him. He’s looking to the camera with a sort of determination. 

Obadiah should be turning this into the FBI or CIA or whatever underground organization there is. 

But he isn’t. 

Which means that he probably paid for this to happen, and now there’s something to be done. 

-

“What are you doing in this office?” 

James’ head snaps up to see the PA of Tony, Pepper Potts. Said to have the fury of all the dragons in the world, impeccable fashion sense, and a competency that would scare off God. 

James is terrified. 

“Um. I kind of got evidence against Stane.” 

“You found the files too?” 

“Yeah? Wait, you know? Please tell me you’re not on his side.” 

“He wouldn’t ever be my choice of an ally,” Pepper says, wrinkling her nose. She whips out a flash drive, tapping some things into the computer before shutting it down. “No, you’ll be helping me get my old boss back. I refuse to quit, I hate job hunting.” 

James is pretty sure that this is not the only reason, but job-hunting does suck. 

There are voices coming down the hallway. Pepper freezes. 

“What should we do? I’m not getting fired, oh my god-” 

Obadiah walks into the hallway with the higher-up offices, and there’s Rhodes and Miss Potts discussing some sort of thing that the R&D department probably needs marketing help on. 

He doesn’t notice Pepper slip a USB into her purse, thinking it’s lipstick. 

Obadiah always jumps to conclusions far too quickly, Howard used to tell him that that was what was going to do him in. 

- 

The US military takes care of it. Or someone like it. 

Pepper knows someone named Phillip Coulson, which sounds honestly like a name that shouldn’t be the name of an American man. 

“We’ll get him back as soon as possible,” says Mr. Coulson, who has a bland smile that betrays nothing and makes James feel uneasy. 

- 

Tony comes back in one piece. He comes back with bonus material. 

Rhodes shouldn’t have thought that. But now he has, and that is that. 

Pepper Potts made him come onto the tarmac with her. 

Tony stills. 

“What the absolute hell are you doing here?” 

There’s no heat to the statement, can’t be when he’s as exhausted as he is. 

“Moral support,” Pepper says. “He also works for you, I thought that’s how you knew each other.” 

Tony gives Rhodes a hard look. 

“Sure.” 

They’ll have a discussion later. 

- 

He shuts down weapons-manufacturing. Rhodes can see Stane’s eyes glint with anger from where he’s standing. 

“We’re all just tired,” he says, chortling as if Tony coming back after being captured for three months is all one gigantic joke that’s just waiting for the punchline. 

“No,” Tony says. 

For the first time in his life, he says no for himself. 

“I’m not tired,” he states plainly. “Well, I’m tired of sand in my hair.” 

Cue uneasy laughs. 

Tony continues on. “I have been complacent for too long. And I want my legacy to not be a continuation of my father’s, but a better legacy. Which is why, effective immediately, weapons manufacturing is being shut down.” 

Flash go the cameras, and Rhodes doesn’t know how he’s swung it, but he’s helping stuff Tony into a car, and that can’t be- 

It’s a burger. 

“You want fries or something?” Tony asks. “You can have fries. I don’t really like the fries they serve, not my deal.” 

Rhodey eats a cold fry that honestly sucks, but it’s better than no food at all. 

“You’re back and you’re already causing a Mount-Everest-level of work,” Pepper says. “I’ve missed that.” 

“What, they’ve been boring you to death?” 

“Nearly,” she says. “Let’s get you home.” 

James is not sure what to do in this situation. Because he probably shouldn’t be going to his technically-boss’s-place-of-residence, but he’s kind of gotten caught up in the drama of this whole situation, and he’s not sure if he remembered to get his apartment key from his office. 

Tony Stark keeps looking at him. 

“Why did you...? I thought you were going to fight for the Air Force or whatever. I didn’t think you wanted a job with us.” 

“I didn’t,” he says simply. “But you said that they didn’t want you to be CEO, and it wasn’t just because you were on the young side. I figured that you needed someone to at least find out.” 

“Did you think I was dead?” 

“I was about seventy-five percent sure you weren’t,” James says. 

“And why is that? Because I’m an inventor?” 

“No. It’s because you would go out in freezing temperatures for an hour in nothing but slacks and a white button-down in college, which was weird. What were you doing, anyways?” 

“Not important,” Tony says. “Pepper, can you order more food? I’ve dearly missed American cuisine and all the sodium.” 

“You need to go to a hospital.” 

“Yeah, not happening.” 

“And why is that?” 

“I’ll...” Tony sends a look to James. 

“I’ll tell you when we get home,” he says quietly. 

“Do you have a phone I can use for a taxi ride?” James asks. 

“You can take one of my cars.” 

James has seen the various articles on Tony Stark’s ever-growing car collection. All of them are worth more than his entire life, and he is petrified of them. 

“I can call a taxi.” 

“What, scared you’ll screw up the paint job?” 

“Scared I’ll crash.” 

Tony laughs, and then winces. It seems that something’s weighing on him. 

“That’s the least of my worries. I’ll set you up with a Ferrari, then.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” 

“It should! It’s my least favorite.” 

“And you still have one anyways?” 

"They tend to be for appearances only, although occasionally they can get the job done. I wouldn’t take one for a road trip.” 

- 

So James is driving a Ferrari and trying not to die, even though his boss told him he wouldn’t. 

He makes it home and leans against the wall of his apartment. 

His neighbor had stared at him. 

“You get a pay bonus or something?” 

“Or something, Clint. Or something.” 

“Okay, okay, I get it. No questions asked.” 

- 

Returning to work is...an ordeal. 

“You bought a Ferrari?” Wesley asks, looking over the car. “How? I thought you hated them!” 

“I do, and that doesn’t change anything,” James says. “Now hands off the car unless you want Tony Stark himself to smite you down.” 

“He wouldn’t smite me down,” they scoff. “At the most, he’ll give me a strong talking-to that in no way rivals my mother’s reactions to anything I do.” 

James grins, laughing. 

“I’d hate to meet your mother.” 

“Believe me, so did I.” 

The conversation is cut short by Pepper entering the offices. 

“Rhodes, with me please?” 

“Of course,” he responds. 

For a few moments, there’s nothing but the click of Pepper’s heels and the steady thump of Rhodes’ work boots. 

“So. What’s going on, Ms. Potts?” 

“I need you to sign some NDAs.” 

“For?” 

“...you’ll find out.” 

- 

James is led to Tony’s personal work workshop, which is something incredibly fun to say twice as fast as you normally would. 

There is also something protruding from his chest, and Rhodes just stares. 

“So, is this like. A new thing?” 

“Relatively,” Tony says dryly. “I didn’t have it in college, safe to assume.” 

“I would’ve felt a bit like an idiot if you had had it and I failed to notice.” 

“Well, now you know. Pep, the paperwork?” 

Rhodes is slipped quite the stack of sheets, and is handed a pen that probably costs more than his pair of shoes. 

“So, what’s the reason for this?” 

"Well, you’re getting an NDA for this thing, and for a couple of other things,” Tony starts out. “I’m going to be letting you in on a secret that no one can find out about. And if they do find out, you are not going to like what I do to you.” 

“Noted.” 

“Meet me for dinner at seven,” Tony says. “Bring the car back, won’t you?” 

“Gladly, so long as you don’t call me Jamie.” 

“Not a nickname kinda guy?” 

“Not that nickname kinda guy,” he says with a wince. 

Tony smiles. 

“And Rhodey?” 

“I suppose I can’t petition for Jim?” 

“I know far too many ‘Jims’ in my lifetime, darling.” 

He doesn’t know how to feel about this, any of this. He doesn’t think his life is in danger, or else Pepper might have a sharper smile on her face like when she’s about to tear apart someone she doesn’t like. 

His boots make a steady rhythm on the floor as he exits, and he wonders if he should fill up the gas tank all the way as a courtesy. (When a man is richer than God, maybe, you ask a lot of questions.) 

-

James Rhodes, for once in his life, does not know what to wear. 

Usually, the nicest outfit he ever wore was a suit to his grandparents’ funerals, and then for church or any other event it was a polo shirt or a button-down and black pants with reasonably nice loafers. 

Tony Stark probably has on a suit that is more than a very nice, reasonably priced used car. Which is quite a lot, in Rhodey’s opinion. 

Oh god. He’s started thinking about himself with the nickname. 

He settles on a dark green button-down with no tie, and he drives the Ferrari about five miles under the speed limit and causes quite a bit of trouble for traffic. People honk. Someone in a lifted truck calls him a name that was really quite creative and unexpected. 

He arrives in one piece, which is a great deal. 

Tony is lounging in jeans and an old t-shirt, and Rhodey feels a bit guilty about his own outfit choice. 

“Sorry for the...shirt. Here are your keys.” 

“What’s wrong with your shirt? Looks great from where I’m laying,” Tony says, a hint of a grin on his face. 

“You want some pizza?” 

He relaxes slightly. 

Tony Stark is a very guarded man. His shoulders are tense even though he’s reclining as if he’s relaxing, and he’s looking at Rhodey with a look of curiosity. 

“So, why am I here?” Rhodey asks. “Besides pizza and returning car keys.” 

“We can get to that soon. For now, pizza. And talk with Pepper.” 

Pepper comes in, holding a wine bottle and balancing three wine glasses expertly in the other hand. 

She has to be a magician or a goddess or something. There’s no way someone can be that grateful. She also looks like a model in simple red shorts and an over-sized t-shirt advertising some old running event. 

“I see you forgot to tell him the dress code,” Pepper says. “You want a different shirt, Rhodes? It’ll be easier for later.” 

“If I could,” he says, slowly. “What’s it for?”

“Green not your color?” Tony asks, eyebrows raised.

“No, but button-downs aren’t my favorite.” 

He eats a piece of pizza and makes small-talk about pizza toppings. Tony loves pepperoni and absolutely hates Canadian bacon. 

“It is ham, call it what it is, and then never put it on pizza again,” he whines. 

Rhodey smiles. 

“I still stand by green bell peppers being the worst.” 

“Have you ever had good pizza?” Tony asks. “I don’t think you have, otherwise you wouldn’t be saying those things.” 

Pepper chucks a t-shirt at Rhodey. 

“It might fit a bit tight, but it should be fine.” 

“What exactly is this for?” 

Tony turns away as Rhodey changes into the shirt. He looks again when it’s all on, and Rhodey’s shifting a bit. It is a bit tight, but not bad. 

Tony is staring. 

Rhodey does not notice this, because sometimes Rhodey is very bad at observations. 

“Come with me,” Tony says. “I’m about to show you what will be, I think, the world-changing thing.” 

“A thing?” 

“A thing,” Tony says with a smile. “My legacy.” 

Inside is a treasure trove of toys and machines and Rhodey can see Dum-E, the robot that had been submitted to a robotics contest at MIT. He didn’t know he was still around. 

And then, the opus magnum of it all: 

(At least, Rhodey thinks.) 

“This is a flyable suit of armor,” Tony says. “And I need to make an offer to you.” 

Rhodey turns, looks at him. 

Tony breathes in, breathes out. 

“My father’s legacy was building weapons for the war, helping out wherever he could. He’s been hailed as a hero for years, and I was expected to fill his shoes. And I tried, I really did.” His face hardens as he looks down at the blue light emanating from his chest. 

“My attempt at becoming my father was perhaps the worst thing I’ve ever done, because it resulted in innocent lives being lost and my own ignorance to become someone I should never have been in the first place. This? This is the answer to it all.” 

“And what are you hoping to get out of me?” Rhodey asks. 

“Flying lessons.” 

“Flying lessons,” Rhodey deadpans. “You just built a knight-in-armor with jets or whatever, and you want me to give you flying lessons.” 

“Well, it’d be helpful,” Tony says. “You nearly went into the Air Force. You have to know more than most.” 

“Only sometimes.” 

“Better than never,” Tony says. 

“Why me?” Rhodey asks. “You could’ve asked anyone with military clearance or someone that knows you better.” 

“You never once questioned me in college,” Tony says simply. 

Rhodey stares. 

“That’s your reasoning?” 

“The reason why I’m his PA is because I didn’t bullshit on wrong answers, and Happy--his driver--got hired because he liked him more than other people,” Pepper says. “He has good intuition.” 

Rhodey takes another look at Tony. 

He looks determined. 

And he looks like he knows what he wants to do, and he’s going to make his own path. 

Rhodey can’t lie. He can’t say he doesn’t want to be there for that. He can’t lie and say he isn’t itching to get a look at the suit design, see where improvements can be made. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“So,” he starts, grinning, “When do I get my own suit? Can’t let you have all the fun.” 

Tony cracks a grin. 

“Let’s just try this one out first, pilot.” 

Rhodey grins, looking at the progress. Tony grins back, just as wide. 

“Well,” Rhodey says, nearly giddy. “Let’s start the future.” 

[sweetteaanddragons]

The Undying

(Notes and explanations are at the bottom. Warnings for some violence and for canon typical character death.)

The first time he dies is at Alqualonde although he only figures that out later. At the time, the only thing he knows is that one moment there is a horrific pain at the back of his skull and then darkness. 

(Later he thinks, he felt something shatter, but that is a confused memory, not a fact, and so he ignores it.) 

The next thing he knows, he’s waking up in a pool of blood, and Huan is licking his face rather frantically.

Huan springs back and whines the moment Carnistir blinks back to bewildered life, but Carnistir has far more important things to worry about than whatever Huan’s problem is. 

Something is laying across his legs. He’s pretty sure it used to be a person.

He doesn’t recognize them. 

He still looks away.

He shoves himself up onto his elbows and tries to feel the back of his head. His hair is caked in blood, but he can’t feel a bump in his skull, and there’s no noticeable indentation either, so maybe the blood is someone else’s. 

He decides not to think about it.

“There you are!” Tyelkormo’s shout sounds almost angry, and Carnistir is about to snap back that he hasn’t exactly been hiding, he’s been unconscious, and what was he supposed to do exactly, but then his brother actually comes into view, and his face is far too pale for a rage. Tyelkormo’s hand is shaking a little as he rubs Huan’s head, and so Carnistir manages to for once bite back all the things he would almost certainly regret saying later. “You found him. Good dog. Thank you.”

Huan looks absurdly pleased with himself. 

“I assume we won?” Carnistir asks. He tries to yank his legs free from the - obstacle. He tries to forget the sensation the moment he’s successful.

Tyelkormo is there in a moment before he can even attempt to get up. “We did,” he assures him. “Don’t move just yet, let me check - “

“We can’t stay,” he says, half out of logic, half just to be contrary. He’s fine, he’s sure of it. 

Or he will be. He’d just - greatly prefer to be gone.

And it’s sensible, anyway. More of the Teleri will come soon.

“We’re loading the ships up now, and I will help you to one in a minute, but not before I check your head.”

Tyelkormo looks almost ill, and Carnistir wonders if his brother is hurt or if his own injury is truly that alarming.

But Tyelkromo looks fine, and Carnistir is sure he is too. His head doesn’t even hurt anymore.

He insists upon this point for much longer than he feels should be strictly necessary.

Tyelkormo looks doubtful, but he eventually concedes that if Carnistir is capable of insulting him that creatively, he is probably not too brain damaged and can possibly be trusted to stand.

. . .

This is the story as the Noldor tell it, though they do not realize they are doing so:

Sometimes their warriors burn with the power of a storm when they fall.

(They say Feanor burned when he died. Why shouldn’t the rest of them?)

Sometimes a warrior gets up when the healers had lost all hope.

(Manwe’s eagles have proven the Valar have not completely abandoned them. Why shouldn’t other blessings fall as well?)

Sometimes eternal youth is a bit more youthful than others.

(But really, who’s to say?)

. . .

He doesn’t think of it much. Why should he? With all the losses, all the horrors - a blow to the head that was a minor inconvenience at worst is nothing.

He does, admittedly, occasionally hear a buzzing noise with no visible source now. That . . . alright, that had never happened before Alqualonde. Possibly he should have let an actual healer look him over at some point after the ships set sail.

He can try one now, he supposes, but the buzzing isn’t that annoying, and it’s probably been too long to do anything. He can live with it. The Doom has promised far worse than this..

(And if an orc’s arrow hits him during a patrol, and he yanks it out before he can remember just why that’s such a bad idea, and the wound seals over before the skirmish ends - well, elves heal quickly. Everyone knows that. And it must have barely touched him, really, caught more in his armor than in his actual skin.)

(That must have been what happened.)

(And if he thinks, just for a moment that he saw something that looked remarkably like lightning flicker over his skin, then it’s nothing, nothing at all.)

. . .

This is the story as Men tell it before they know more of elves than the whispers of the Avari in the trees:

There are whispers in the forest, and the fey beings that make them are not always kind. 

There are whispers in the forest, and sometimes there are wails. If you follow the sound, you might not come back.

If you do, you will come back with a child.

Or at least something that looks like one.

. . .

He feels the buzzing even before the village of Men he has come to rescue comes into view. He thinks nothing of it until he sees the woman who is leading the Men’s charge go down with a spear in her chest.

This does not change the fact that when the fight is over, she is the one to approach him as their chief. 

He might think he saw a different woman - a sister or daughter, perhaps - but the blood is still thick on her tunic, and a hole is ripped through it where someone tore the spear out. 

The skin visible behind the rip is perfectly smooth.

The buzzing gets louder the closer he gets to her.

He offers her lands partly because he thinks it right and partly because he thinks it mutually beneficial. It is not one’s business but his just what one of those benefits would be.

But she turns him down, so he grits his teeth and at least convinces her to accept aid from their healers because he cannot, will not, leave without at least trying to figure out why there is lightning crackling under both of their skins.

She doesn’t object when he sits beside her outside of the tent the healers have erected to help the wounded. She is sitting in nothing but her undershirt and grimly scrubbing off as much of the blood off her tunic as she can, but the tear still gapes open.

“I can mend it, if you like,” he offers. He does not have nearly as many tools with him as he would at home, but a needle and thread are small enough and practical enough that he never travels without them.

She eyes him a little warily. “I didn’t think your folk’s princes did work like that.”

His cheeks redden a little, but he refuses to acknowledge the implication of insult in her tone. “Everyone has a craft,” he says, and the needle he pulls from his belt must be proof enough for her because she hands the tunic over easily enough.

Sewing is easy. Broaching the subject is harder, but he’s fortunate.

She does it for him.

“I didn’t think your people had any like us.”

“Like what?” he asks, unable to believe it could be this easy.

“Undying,” she says impatiently, as if this is obvious, and he doesn’t want to believe that it can be as all encompassing as she says.

She speaks into his silence. “The first time I died, I was eighteen,” she says. “I came back before the sun rose a degree higher in the sky. I didn’t want to believe my brother when he told me. But then he grew, and I - “ She gestures at herself.

He has seen her brother among the dead. He is not good at guessing Men’s ages, but her brother had looked old enough that he had mistaken him for her father.

“I guess your people don’t notice as much,” she adds thoughtfully, and she’s right. That much, at least, is a relief.

He is almost done mending the tear. He slows his work in case she leaves when he is done. “Are there others?”

She shrugs. “I’ve met one or two before you. I felt a third, but I couldn’t find them.” 

He thinks of the buzzing, like a warning before a storm, and knows exactly what she’s talking about.

He’s not sure whether it’s better or worse than a brain injury. 

He looks down and realizes that the tear is entirely gone. He hands the tunic back to her, his stitches nearly invisible.

She blinks at it.

She wanted it mended. He mended it. Why is she so surprised?

She doesn’t leave yet though. 

“You should know,” she says, “one of the one’s I met died. Head cut off by an orc. I don’t know if it was the weapon or the beheading or what, but you should know. Don’t get careless.”

He has no intention of doing so.

She stands to go, but she still lingers just a little. “There are stories that it’s something to do with your people, you know,” she says, almost too casually. “Since you don’t age, and there are rumors that if you die you’ll come back. Some people think you steal human children and switch them with your own, and that’s why we’re like this.”

The absurdity of this finally shocks him out of his silence. “Why in Arda would we do that?” he demands. He can’t imagine what he would want with a human child, or what would possess him to abandon his own should he be blessed with one.

Her lips twitch. “I have no idea. And it doesn’t make much sense if you’re like this too, and it’s not normal for your people. Still. Someone’s got to be leaving babies in the forest, and it isn’t us.”

For one horrible, horrible moment, he thinks that somehow Men have managed to get this far without figuring out where babies come from.

But her look is pitying, not naive. “You didn’t know?”

“Know what?” he demands.

“Our kind never have children,” she says. “And we’re never born properly either. Not where anyone can see us. We’re always just . . . found. Haldad found me at the edge of the forest as we travelled, and he couldn’t just leave a baby there, of course, so he took me in.” She shrugs. “All the others I’ve talked to have said the same.”

That’s not possible.

It’s a story her father had told her as a child, it must be, a story to cover some more terrible or awkward truth. These others she’s found must have been playing along or -

He doesn’t know. All he knows is that his father certainly didn’t find him at the edge of any woods.

“Who are these others?” he demands.

He is certain of the answers he will find, but still -

Still. He needs to ask.

. . .

This is the story as the Haladin tell it, as the legend of the woman who led them grows:

Their chief’s spear is as strong in her hand now as it was the day she first took it up and led us on to victory. She is just as swift, just as fierce, and just as beautiful because -

Because she is beloved of an elf, so he kissed her and preserved her youth forever -

Because she is blessed by the Valar, so they endued her with their light to show their favor -

Because the spirits of our honored dead dwell in her to give her strength -

Because she fought death and won -

Because -

Because.

. . .

What convinces him, in the end, are the dwarves. Dwarves are not in the habit of lying to spare children’s feelings. Words are sacred to them, and though they will lie, they do so only in great need, never for small politeness’s sake.

He has been trading with Vili for decades, considers him a friend and is considered one in return, and Vili still swears him to secrecy three times before he lowers his voice and whispers of a dwarvish smith who is blessed by their Maker. 

He has to swear a further three times not to tell Telchar where he got his information before he tracks him down.

In the end, Telchar demands no explanations. The buzzing is enough.  

His story is no more reassuring than Haleth’s.

Even if it is true for the dwarves - even if it is true for Men - it doesn’t mean it works that way for elves. It doesn’t.

No matter how many times he tells himself that, he can’t help wishing Amil or Atar were here to tell him just how ridiculous he is being for even entertaining this notion.

It’s nothing. It has to be. It -

. . .

This is the story as the dwarves tell it, though they tell it only to their own people, trusting no others:

Long ago, Mahal made our fathers from stone.

When he is pleased with us, or when he knows our need is great, sometimes he takes up his old tools again. He leaves his work in mineshaft and mountain passes for a blessed family to find.

The children he makes are strong and long-lived, and they unleash their wrath upon their enemies when they die. 

. . .

Dear Maedhros,

Don’t you dare laugh at me for this, and don’t ask questions. 

Were you there when I was -

Do you remember -

You would have told me if -

I look like Atar, don’t I?

He crumples the letter up in his hand and tosses it into the fire.

It’s nonsense, and he won’t spend any more time on it.

. . .

He hears Haleth is dead. In battle, he hears.

He doesn’t ask if she was beheaded.

(She is decades older than Beor was when she dies.)

. . .

He wakes up in a pool of blood at Doriath.

Celegorm is lying across his legs. 

Celegorm does not wake up.

Neither does Curufin.

Dior does not wake up either. Caranthir cuts his head off anyway because he woke up in a pool of his brothers’ blood, and it was Dior’s sword buried in Celegorm’s stomach.

Celegorm had been standing in front of him. Celegorm had been protecting him. If he had just told him, told them - 

There is a buzzing in his head.

It is not anyone he hoped it would be.

It’s just a guard, one in Doriath’s uniform, and it is almost painfully easy to remove his head.

For just a moment the whole world is fire.

It’s only his imagination that the lightning brings forth a surge of power in his veins. It’s only - 

It’s nothing.

He staggers to his feet and goes to search for Dior’s children and tells himself that the sensations flickering at the edge of his mind have nothing to do with this decision at all.

He finds Maedhros.

Neither of them find the children.

(At Sirion, he is very careful not to make the same mistake again. He saves the children and tells himself it is entirely his own idea, or, if not, that the only other originator is Maglor.)

(He still loses two more brothers.)

. . .

This is the story as the Valar tell it: They don’t. Whether this is because they know too much or too little is anyone’s guess.

. . .

“We could still steal them,” he says without enthusiasm when the Silmarils fall into the hands of the victorious army from Valinor. The Oath is a burning goad within him, when he pays attention to it, but mostly it’s hidden behind the burn of the lightning in his veins.

(There had been another two, at Sirion. Another two that had buzzed with lightning till the very end.)

He can ignore the Oath. He wants to ignore the Oath although he tries to tell himself he doesn’t.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to see it fulfilled, he does.

It’s just -

He wonders, if he takes up a gem, if his brothers’ Oaths will recognize him as kin.

He doesn’t want to find out the answer.

“We would do more ill in the keeping than the breaking,” Maglor says, and he looks impossibly weary as he says it.

He tells himself that’s why he’s making this argument.

That, and no other reason.

But Maedhros will not surrender, will not flee, and Maglor will not argue with him, so he trails after them and lets them be the first to pick up the SIlmarils. 

Maedhros burns without a hint of lightning of his own will, and Caranthir wishes he had fought harder to forget the gems, forget the Valar, and just drag them all somewhere impossibly far away.

Maglor throws his into the ocean, and Caranthir’s Oath burns, but he is so, so relieved that Maglor never pressed his refusal to touch it.

(“Do you remember the day I was born?” he asks when the night is dark, and the only Silmaril within even the illusion of reach is the one shining high overhead.

If Maglor is curious about the sudden topic, his voice gives no hint. “I remember getting the letter,” he says thoughtfully. “I wasn’t there at the time, of course, I was already training in Alqualonde. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says.

It doesn’t. It can’t. It won’t.

He’ll make sure of it.)

. . .

Notes: So yes, this is a Highlander crossover. I elected to keep the Game out of it since knowledge of it doesn’t seem to be instinctual to new immortals which implies to me that it’s something imposed upon them/created by them, not something that necessarily has to be implicit, so in this AU, the Game has not yet begun. Caranthir will not be impressed by it when it is.

He will, on the other hand, be privately amused by Methos. When anyone asks, he will assure them that other immortal is, indeed, the oldest Man alive. No one ever quite catches the particular emphasis he puts on that word.

(In this AU, Fingon finds Gil-Galad in the woods. Caranthir studiously avoids noticing all possible implications. He also avoids Gil-Galad.)

[erizawayumako888]

It's been a while, how many years have passed? 5? 10? maybe even more? we both lay side by side on top of the hill, green fields and village by the mountain. The place we call home, or for me, used to be one.

We may not have been the closest of friends, but your company is quite enjoyable. Especially back then, when I was a child, young and free, naive and innocent. I would run around the village, play with other kids, other times hanging out with older friends like you. I've been looking up to you, we don't talk much, but you're an admirable figure, as a kid I thought about how cool you are, I talked a lot about you although I didn't have the guts to really tell you how I feel.

Kids would cringe at the idea of the idea of a girl and boy kissing or holding hands, including me. I kept on denying how I feel, I was so young I felt that it was disgusting although it felt good. As I grow up we grew further apart, just like every other kids growing out of their interests or old friends. I forgotten that you even existed for years.

All those years as I grew up, a lot of terrible things happened. I looked at you, assuming that you are smiling back at me underneath that mask. You were quite pleased to see an old friend, a little girl you used to spend time with, gone for quite a while and returned a grown up woman. You sat comfortably beside me, thinking that I'm still the same old bright young woman. How unfortunate, my friend. You couldn't have been more wrong...

I didn't grow up to be the lady society expects me to be, I run, jump and play like boys, I prefer dinosaurs and superheroes over dressing up and dolls. Other kids think I am weird, I got bullied and rejected. I learnes how to just keep things by myself, since I am a bother for others. But it didn't stop there, now that I am being quiet, the grown ups hated me just for speaking too little. I still listen to and reply to them, I just don't talk much to other kids or when not needed.

They tried to shackle and chain my freedom, telling me that just because I am a girl I am not allowed to do this or that. I am forced to wear complicated clothings, constantly how a woman's only goal in life is to bow down to her husband. I am sick of being tossed and controlled around up to 14 years of my life, only to be told that it is the right thing to carry on beibg tossed and controlled around by a man until the day I die.

This place I grew up in, what I once see as a peaceful village... I hate everyone in there. All of them, judgemental hypocrites, feeling that they're always right when they condemn people for being themselves. I'm sick of it, I can't take it any longer. My guardian angel held me tight, telling me that everythings going to be okay.

Hell no, I am no longer enduring that while faking a smile. I ran away from her, from the village, into the forest depth. And that's when I came face to face with the devil herself. And attractive woman with red, glistening hair. Her sharp glare accompanied with curled horbs decorating her head, standing proud with her bat-like wings stretched over and her devilish tail swaying around. She stood proud, loud and clear she declared ,"My child, I can help you avenge those who have wronged you!".

My guardian angel grabbed my arm whimpering ,"Don't listen to her" I looked back at her feeling bad... But you are my guardian angel, yet you don't protect me from the hell I have been through. But still, you are my friend, but what kind of friend sees you suffering and does nothing about it, only telling me to be patient and take it all?

I closed my eyes, under my eyelids it's pitch black as expected. However everything soon turns to be red, bright red, visions of flames of hell is getting clearer. But I felt very excited, not realizing I grinned wider as the estacy grew. I opened my eyes feeling euphoric, for the first time in a while my laugh echoes out of excitement. I can't tell where and what I am looking, I only know that I can't stop laughing, my arms have to keep moving slashing through the air, I feltike I'm hit something, at a glance I might have seen a terrified face but the adrenaline rush makes me ignorant of it. My vision grows blurry and redder, as the screams from hell grew louder and pierces my ears.

Finally I'm exhausted. My head feels very heavy, as if heavy weights are being attach to its left and right, I fell forward to the ground. That is when I realized I literaly have weights on my head... that demon lady's horns, they are on my head now. I could feel some wind, some moving attached to my back, those are her wings... and my hands, red.

I saw my guardian angel there, her once white gown is now stained in red. She is no longer movinh or breathing. I cried when I realized what happened. Slowly I carried her lifeless body on top of a hill far away from the village, under a huge, old tree surrounded by the flower beds we used to play at. It was where we would laugh and make flower crowns, where we would frolic and run with the animals. But now, this is her final resting place.

I kept replaying those memories as I walked with my old friend. He didn't say a word and follwed behind me, until I stopped in front of the nameless tombstone. I picked up a few flowers and poured them on top of it, before I fall on my knees. Had hadn't a clue of what happened that day, in attempt of consoling me he held my shoulder ,"Friend of yours?" I didn't say a word.

After my first murder, I finally realizes that I no longer have a guardian angel, instead I have a demon by my side. She promised me that shw would be much more helpful, and she seems to be telling the truth. With my new found power I walked back to the village in the middle of the night, fpr one last time. I flew from home to home, looking for the faces of those who had wronged me to rip them off. A glint of satisfication when they all run and scream in fear before finally, they all drop dead in silence.

By the time the sun goes up, I looked into a mirror, seeing myself as a beat decorated in red. The light shines on the blood covering me, it was an amazing kind of feeling I never had before. I flew away far into the darkest depths of forest, looking for a new place to live.

I travlled the lands into other villages and towns, there are times I do try to make friends and hide my past, I may not be hated anymore but I always fear how if I would. So I keep myself away from others, no one can be trusted, except for myself and the demon inside of me.

It is quite frustrating as a loner when I had feelings for a man, yet I remember how I was treated, by their kind especially. I don't want to let my feelings of attachment to bribg down my ego. I am not the one who will submit, I will be the one to dominate them.

And thus my journey began, I trained to grow stronger. When I see a man I found to my liking I would take them away and trest them like a toy. I will toss and turn them aroubd to my heart's content, although I do love and care for them it is a pleasureable way to avenge those men who wronged me. You say that girls can't be strong? You say that girls have to obey their husbands with a leash around her neck? Then this time my love, you are the one with the leash around your neck.

Two, three pets were not enough. I always needed more, and I have lost counted after all these years. Perhaps 30 or 40, and it won't stop anytime soon. At times I cry for nights knowijg how much I hurt my loved obes, but the voices of my relatives, telling me to kneel down and be a 'good girl', especoally my grandma...

She was not a nice old lady who makes cookies for you, she would always tell me it is wrong to be myself, she would always say that my nice face and body is jist a great asset to find me a good man. I am sick of it, and even after I've left my family behind their taunting voicr still taunts me. Aslong as the voices goes on, my torturous games will cobtinue. I do hesitate and feel guilty, but at the same time I enjoy it when I watch my boys cry in the dungeon after what I do to them.

I finally fibished plucking the weeds around the graveyard, I stared at the weed I grasp in my hands thinking... Maybe I should stop afterall, I cannot forever keep on hurting people especially those who I cared about. But just as I smiled in relief her voice echoes again ,"My dear, why don't you have a man yet? Relax, and kneel down. Be. A. Good. Girl."

I stood up yelling and tossed the weed aside, I screamed loudly towards the sky as my old friebd backed off. Both of my fists tightens as I stared into the horizon, I clenched my teeth and tears began flowing down my face.

My old friend slowly walked towards me ,"Is everything alright?" He asked. I turned my head slowly, now face to face to the so familiar face. But I noticed a difference, slowly my vision turns red. Not just his masked face, but the sky and grass, everything turns red. I began to smirk and laugh as tears continue to rush like waterfall ,"I'm sorry my love, she is coming back."

I laughed harder than ever as the demon's horns sprout out of my scalp, bat like wings spread on my back blocking the sun and drops a shadow covering my old friend. He stared at me as he drew his sword, I can tell that he hesitates just like I do. But I can't stop now, I need him in my collection, as long as that old witches words burns in my ears I need new toys to take my anger and grudge on.

I laughed harder and harder as I clawed my way through, my claws clashing against his sword under the setting sun. His skill impressive as ever, in a blink of an eye as I tried to hold back my demond I could feel my head lighter, and I notuced both of my horns were severed laying on the ground. Well played, my dear. This gets more interesting.

I growled and shoots lightning from my finger, I am not trying to attack him however I just want to play around for now. He leaps aroubd dodging my attacks, at times deflecting them with his sword which celarly backfires me, I took my own hit but I am not done yet.

Now, a huge orb forms in my palms, I run to him swinging it to his direction. He was ready to slocr the orb but just at the moment my other claw slaps his sword away. Checkmate. You are unarmed now. I growled like a beast as I grabbed him by force, he was fighting back kicking and punchibg but I am not backing down, not especially when I am a demon at least 10 times his size for now.

I grasped him in my claws and flew away from the spot. Finally another collection, another victim for my grudge and hatred, mixed with my love and obsession. I do love you dear, but your kind has to pay what they have done to me. The fun has just started, pet.

[schrijverr]

Take the New Texas out of a boy

Jonny still carries a lot of internalized biases and prejudices against himself from growing up in New Texas, which wasn’t progressive. Aboard the Aurora he undergoes a journey of self-discovery in a safe space.

This started as ‘Ooh, wait! What if Jonny wears a corset’ and it somehow ended up as ‘Jonny deals with internalized homophobia, internalized misogyny and self esteem issues, figures out his gender expression, which finally leads to a Jonny centric polycule’ 

On AO3

Ships: Jonny/ Tim, Ashes, Marius and Brian, but the focus ismore focused on the frienship between Jonny & Ashes & Tim while he discovers himself

Wanrings: homophobia, internalized homophobia, internalized misogyny and self esteem issues. Tell me if I missed anything else!

~~~~~~~~~~~

New Texas was many things, well that was not true, New Texas was barely anything at all really, but one of the things that it most certainly wasn’t, was progressive.

The backwater asteroid that claimed to be a planet with potential for life was nothing, but filled with rot and people who would never be more than the dust on their clothes and the smoke in their lungs, who would rather see you dead for being different.

Jonny had never fit in there.

He’d always known he was different, as cliché as that might seem. He wanted more than getting drunk in a casino, playing away his last bit of money so that he could forever be enslaved by the casino boss to become a killer for hire.

That wasn’t for him. He did it out of necessity, but it wasn’t the end goal. Once he would have enough, he would get out of there. He hadn’t figured out how or to where, but he would not rot between these people.

The first moment he’d realized that, was when Henry from the mill had been hung on top of his own propellers. He’d heard that they’d found out he’d tried to pay another man for services, if you knew what they were saying. Apparently it hadn’t gone over well with the other guy.

Jonny had seen the man hanging there, swaying in the wind and a fear had gripped his heart.

You see, just the day before Jonny had been trying to come up with a good way to tell Ronny that he thought he was pretty, well, pretty. He didn’t know why the other boy got his heart racing, but he did and Jonny, being a naive youngster, wanted to do something about it.

Henrys death had quickly discouraged him from that. He still wanted to hold Ronnys hand, but it wasn’t worth dying over and when he’d started to pay attention to his fathers drunken rambling afterwards, he knew who would be the first to do him in for that.

So, he resolved to get out of there to a place where he could hold Ronnys hand if he wanted to. He knew it was probably futile, but it was a dream he clung to when things got too hard.

His resolve strengthened after he sold his life to Jack and his famous casino.

Jacks casino was famous not only because it was the only one in town, but also because Jack had show girls. The only ones there were no other bar where you could see them, Jack made sure of that, they were good for business after all.

They would be decked out with feathers, fishnets, tiny slips and corsets all on high heels. And Jonny adored them. Whenever he would need to be in Jacks casino, whether it was to deliver something or to get new orders, he would stare dreamily at them dancing.

Most of the patrons made fun of him for being in love with the show girls and Jonny would tell them to piss off, pretending they knew the truth.

The real truth was that Jonny wasn’t in love with them. No, they couldn’t be further away from his type. He was, however, in love with their outfits.

He dreamed of how the fishnets would hug his legs and how the corset would make him delicate and how whoever saw him would be taken aback by his beauty like the men in the casino were with the show girls.

Jonny knew that was a futile dream.

He’d heard from many different mouths that he wasn’t really appealing to look at and he was also slowly resigning himself to being stuck on New Texas forever, the idea of getting away only further out of reach with each passing day.

But with the arrival of a Doctor that idea suddenly seemed so weird.

She took him with her, but with how she twisted him and made him into her puppet there wasn’t really time to explore his newfound freedom away from home.

He tried to fight against every new member, but it wasn’t enough. She never stopped until he got rid of her, not that he’ll ever admit it was him. And he could never forget her either.

By the time she was gone a status quo had arisen on board of the Aurora. Jonny had automatically situated himself in a position from where he could fight. He was the though one, the first one, the one who would take the blows. Effectively shutting himself off from any chance to be dainty or delicate.

His new friends were more accepting, though. Ashes was respected, no questions asked, Nastya was allowed to be herself with her girlfriend and any comment made by the others about hot people of the opposite gender, were barely even blinked at.

Jonnys heart felt lighter with that, although he would always catch himself before he could say something. The fear of a lifetime still deeply ingrained in his mind.

After a few centuries the others had picked up on it and Ashes had laughed: “Hey, Jonny, it’s not a crime to be straight. If you’re feeling too awkward to comment, ‘cause of us, feel free. Don’t worry. Marius is also allowed to make comments about girls as well as the blokes.”

“Uh, what? No- huh, I don’t- I’m not-” Jonny had cleverly responded, so taken aback by it.

“Oh that’s okay too, Jonny.” Tim had smiled at him and it wasn’t mentioned again.

Jonny was glad no one expected anything of him, even if he felt guilty about pretending to be someone he was not. But he’d done it his entire life, what were a few millennia more?

But then he got more comfortable over the course of time and after a while the lie weighed too heavily on him, so he’d awkwardly called together the crew. Most of them were raising his brow at him and when he’d struggled for a couple of minutes, Ashes said: “Just spit it out, man.”

He took a deep breath: “I’m not, uhm, I’m not aroace. I’m g- I’m gay…” he rushed to add: “I’m sorry I know I should’ve said it when you all assumed, but I just didn’t- I couldn’t and then it was too late and it was nice to not have expectations, but then I felt bad and I really did want to tell you, but it never seemed to be the time and-”

“Breathe, Jonny.” he got interrupted by Brian, “It’s alright.”

“Really?” Jonny asked, still a bit fearful.

“Yeah,” Tim smiled and cheered, “one of us!”

Ashes pushed him over and said: “Already was, dumbass.”

“I know, but I meant it as one of me and Brian, you know.” Tim agreed.

“We shouldn’t have assumed, god knows us of all people shouldn’t have and you shouldn't feel guilty about waiting until you were ready.” Brian told Jonny with a gentle smile.

Carefully Jonny smiled back and was promptly tackled into a hug from Marius and Raphaella, who had snuck up behind him. Laughing while taking him down to the ground.

After that life continued as normal. The first time Jonny had made a comment about a guy, he’d looked around with fear, only relaxing when Tim smirked: “Well spotted! You should go up to him.”

Jonny had frantically shaken his head. Just making the comment had been scary enough, the idea of actually putting himself out there with people he didn’t know was too much.

“Okay, no problem.” Tim assured him quickly, “Do you mind if I do?”

“No, go ahead.” Jonny had squeaked, watching as Tim chatted the guy up and moments later disappeared with a wink over his shoulder.

A bit of jealousy crept over Jonnys spine and he didn’t know what he was more jealous off. The fact that Tim would be getting laid or the fact that Tim had the confidence to walk up to someone like that while knowing he could get murdered for it.

They couldn't die, of course. Jonny knew that, but the fear was still there and he didn’t think his heart could take it, despite the strong metal it was made of.

As the years passed he got more comfortable, however, until he could flirt like he’d always wanted to when he watched men at the casino try to get a free drink from the bartender with the tiny low cut shirt and the red lipped smirk.

But while he was living one of his dreams, there still was another he kept hidden.

His mind often wondered back to the show girls with their corsets, especially when he saw a dolled up boy on a planet they were visiting or dancers, like back home, in a club. His fingers would itch to try for himself, but he couldn’t.

Jonny d’Ville was a macho man.

He liked violence and weapons, he swore like, well, like a sailor. He was masculine and tried to project that as much as possible. It was a defense, he knew it was, but he didn’t know how he could break that wall down.

Still, he allowed a wistful gaze to linger on display windows, but only after checking if no one could see.

It was doomed to fail, since everyone aboard the Aurora was much more observant than Jonny gave them credit for, so after years of catching Jonny staring out of the corner of his eye on a thousand different planets, Tim commented: “You can steal it if you like it, or buy it.”

Immediately Jonny stiffened, before snapping: “What are you on about, Tim? You think I fucking want that?”

“Well, why else would you be staring at them like they’re your star-crossed lover.” Tim rolled his eyes.

He didn’t see the shot coming, but he did hear and feel it as he collapsed to the ground, only coming to a bit later, slung over Brians shoulder with Jonny nowhere in sight. Tim knew better than to mention it again and life went on. Jonny pointedly never looking at the displays, no matter how much he wanted to.

But even if Tim never mentioned it, he did not let it go. He himself had always regretted never shooting his shot with Bertie and he used this life to never pass up again. Jonny deserved the same even if it was about something different.

So when they were planetside again, he went looking. It had to be something subtle, something believable.

At the end of the day he returned to the ship and loudly exclaimed: “Everyone gather around, here, here, come on.”

“What is it, Tim.” Ashes called out from the kitchen, where they were making themself a drink.

“I shoplifted a bunch of stuff, not really looking, just shoving shit in pockets, you know. I already filtered out what I liked, so now you can fight over the rest.” Tim explained.

“Bold of you to assume we like the same things.” Ashes replied.

“I just told you it was random, there could be stuff you like. And I have impeccable taste!” Tim defended himself.

The rest of the crew had gathered around the table where Tim had dumped a pile of stuff. Jonny was already rooting around in it and Tim waited until he had found it. Bingo, he thought when he saw Jonnys eyes light up as he pulled the gigantic belt from the pile.

He held it up to inspect it, it was brown leather a good 6 inches broad with a big golden buckle, exactly something Jonny would like and the others wouldn’t and it was something that could subtly function like a thing such as a corset, making a figure appear more feminine.

Ashes saw it and joked: “I don’t think that’s your size, Jonny.”

“Yes, it is. Fuck you.” Jonny shot them a glare.

The others were now looking as well and Marius commented: “Are you sure this was all random, Tim? That is too much Jonny to be coincidence.”

Jonnys glare now became suspicious as he turned to Tim. Tim held up his hands and said: “I swear, really. I probably took it because it was shiny.”

“Magpie.” Jonny teased.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Tim stuck out his tongue. Jonny did the same, before shoving the belt in his pocket for as much as that was possible and diving back into the pile.

Once the pile had disappeared into the hands of the crew, they set to drinking together.

The next day when all had awoken en slept off the hangover, Tim saw Jonny again. The First Mate was shooting at an octokitten, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that he was wearing the belt. It was a sitting around his waist, a bit higher than normal and it seemed like it had been pulled a hole too tight.

Tim smirked and congratulated himself on the success.

He then went to attack Jonny and save the octokitten from Jonnys violence, because even if he was sure that the critter had probably earned it, it didn’t deserve it.

After that the belt became every day attire for Jonny, so with that in mind Tim set to the next part of his plan. He again snuck off when they were on a planet, he thought Ashes was feeling the need to burn something and Nastya didn’t want that on her precious Aurora.

Coming back he again called everyone together and loudly proclaimed: “I robbed a jewelry store.”

“Since when are you such a thief? This is the second time already.” Marius asked him.

Tim shrugged: “There isn’t much else to do and I thought why not take it before it gets burned, you know. It’s a pity to let it go to waste.”

He looked back and saw Jonny poking the pile with a mixed expression on his face, like he wanted to take it, but wasn’t sure if that would be okay to do.

The others had already grabbed the few things they liked, so Tim decided it was fine before he said: “Just take them, Jonny. They’re going to be in the way otherwise and I’m sure your collection of useless shiny things is far from complete.”

Jonny looked like he was going to protest, before he deflated and grabbed all the leftover jewelry and grumbled: “It isn’t useless.”

Then it was playing the waiting game again.

It took a few weeks, but finally Jonny arrived with a few bracelets dangling around his wrist and a blush high on his face as he tried to hide them and cringed every time they clanked together.

Later he was wearing a chain around his neck and a while after that he’d filled up the holes Tim hadn’t realized were in his ears. He couldn’t know Jonny had pierced them himself just for this, of course.

Tim made sure to complement him each time he saw a piece of jewelry. The first few times Jonny had given him a wary look, but Tim had tried his best to look earnest and now he’d gotten to the point where Jonny would come up to him to show him the jewelry.

When that became normal, he waited a few more days, before laying down on the opposite couch and sighing: “I wish I could paint my nails.”

From the corner of his eyes he saw Jonny perk up, then the fake uninterested reply came: “Why can’t you?”

“I don’t wanna do it alone.” Tim pouted, “And Brian doesn’t have nails, not really, same goes for The Toy Soldier. Ashes, Ivy and Nastya don’t like me enough. I don’t trust Marius not to psychoanalyze me over it and Raphaella will turn it into some sort of experiment.”

After a beat of silence Jonny said: “You didn’t name me.”

And now came the important part. Tim sat up with a grin and concurred: “Exactly, I didn’t.”

Jonny seemed to realize what he was implying and shot up saying: “No, I’m not doing that. Don’t involve me in your dumb wishes.”

Mentally Tim rolled his eyes at Jonny, but externally he pouted: “Please, Jonny. I don’t wanna do it alone and you’re the only one who I can trust, please. I promise I’ll try my best. You can even pick a color.”

Jonny bit his lip while he thought about it. He didn’t have to think long, already having decided that this was too good of an opportunity to pass him by, and agreed: “Fine, but you so owe me after this.”

Tim cheered, before getting his stuff.

When he returned Jonny had slid off the couch and was sitting next to the small table waiting for him. He smiled at Jonny and put his nail polishes in a row, letting Jonny pick a color.

He picked black and Tim snorted. Getting defensive, Jonny snapped: “What?”

“Nothing, just expected that already.” Tim said, grabbing the silver bottle for himself and setting the rest aside.

Taking Jonnys hand, Jonny asked him: “Aren’t we doing your hands first?”

Tim shook his head: “No, you need to see how to do it first before I allow you to potentially fuck up my nails.”

“Hey, who says I’m gonna fuck it up.” Jonny exclaimed indignantly.

“Me, because you’re already not paying attention.” Tim told him.

Jonny snapped his gaze back to Tim, who had already started painting Jonnys nails. The First Mate had kept his hands still despite the protesting, something Tim found quite funny.

Soon Jonnys first coat was dry and it was his turn to try and paint Tims hands.

Tim had to fight to keep the smile at bay as he watched Jonnys brow furrow in concentration and his tongue poke out while he carefully painted Tims nails. They weren’t the best, but definitely good for a beginner. Tim told him that, not missing the small blush that appeared.

Tim was fully expecting the nail polish to be gone the next day, but to his surprise Jonny still had black nails during breakfast. Ashes saw them and commented: “Nice nails.”

Jonny froze for a second, then he replied: “Uh, thanks, Tim did them.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to do mine alone, so I roped Jonny into it. Look!” Tim inserted himself into the conversation and showed off his nails as well.

They got some more complements and Jonny relaxed further. The nail polished stayed on until it was completely chipped away.

Up until then, Tim had acted alone in gently forcing Jonny to explore his more feminine side, but for his next part he needed help. So he went to Raphaella.

“Oh, hi Tim! What can I do for you?” she asked, removing her science goggles and setting aside her flame thrower.

“I was just wondering if something was true and since you’re our Science Officer, I thought you would be the best person to ask.” Tim told her, watching her light up at the word ‘science’.

“What is it? What is it?” she asked excitedly.

“Well, you know how some of these planets have these stupid gender rules?” Tim asked.

Raphaella nodded and he went on: “So, I was wondering how much truth there was to the heel thing, because it doesn’t seem that hard to walk on heels, but they’re out there pretending it’s only women who can do it, but I don’t know how to test that.”

Clapping her hands excitedly, she said: “Oh, I know how we can test that. It won’t be a big sample size, but Nastya and Ivy have never walked on heels, so we could pit them against two of the boys. Hm, Brian wouldn’t be a good fit and Marius has one heavier side, so it would be you and Jonny. Oh, this is going to be fun!”

“Nice, I knew I could count on you, Raph.” Tim said, “So, what do we need?”

Tapping her chin Raphaella listed: “Heels in the right sizes, all the same height too, a course to walk and, of course, willing participants.”

“I do the heels and course, you the participants?” Tim asked.

“Sounds good.” Raphaella answered.

Tim got the right parts for the course and the heels, you don’t want to know how he knew which sizes he needed, but he got them pretty easily. It was Raphaella, who was having trouble with her part.

“No, I’m not walking on fucking heels, because you’re some weirdo with some sort of shit experiment.” Jonny seethed.

“Please, Jonny.” Raphaella asked again, “Nastya, Ivy and Tim already agreed and Ashes has already put up a betting pool.”

“They did what?” Jonny shrieked.

“A betting pool. Most money is on you going flat on your face within five steps.” Raphaella told him, let it be known that Raphaella could be manipulative and she wasn’t afraid to use Jonny competitive streak against him.

“Oh that absolute asshole.” Jonny groused, “Fine, I’ll do it. Tell Ashes I want money on me being the best.”

Raphaella smiled cheerily, before skipping away with an: “I will!”

The next day their time had come. The four of the were standing at the starting line, Raphaella had a clipboard in her hands and the rest was cheering them on or trash-talking them.

It was a simple course, walk 20 feet, go down 6 steps then zigzag between four cones.

They hadn’t been allowed to practice and had to put on the heels right at the start. It was alright just standing, but Tim dreaded having to walk. Jonny was so going to owe him so hard after he told him how much he’d done for the guy.

Speaking of Jonny, he glanced over to him. Jonny had a determined look on his face, but his gaze also flicker down from time to time always softening as he admired the sleek black heels with a look of wonder and a small smile.

The signal was given and they were off.

Nastya faired pretty well, she’d been royalty and a certain amount of grace had been needed for that, Ivy on the other hand was struggling. She loved to be with her books, usually walking around barefoot so that she could feel it when she’d accidentally stepped on one.

Tim also wasn’t doing much better, his arms had turned into propellers as he wobbled and shook, he was almost certain he would not be surviving the stairs.

Next to him, Jonny was actually doing very well. No one knew that the First Mate would walk around on this tip toes, pretending to have heels on just to know what it would feel like and the force of knowing that doing good would piss Ashes off kept him walking with a straight back and minimal amounts of stumbling.

In the end both Tim and Ivy fell down the steps. Ivy broke her neck and was out of the race and Tims heel had broken off, so he’d hopped the last part.

Nastya and Jonny finished around the same time, both collapsing on the couch when they were done. Nastya immediately kicked off her heels, but Jonny kept them on, throwing his feet on the table to turn back and laugh at Tim.

Once everyone was alive and well. Raphaella came with the verdict: “It seems like gender rules around heels are baseless according to our findings here, of course, if we really wanted more concrete answers we would need to do a bigger experiment with more people, but we since we can’t really do that this will have to do.”

“Was that what this was about?” Ashes asked, “We all already knew that gender rules were stupid, no need to fucking test that.”

“It was more curiosity and personal amusement, although that didn’t really work in my favor.” Tim told them.

He got an eyeroll from them, but they seemed to find his answer acceptable. They instead turned to Jonny and asked: “Are they glued to your feet or something?”

Jonny cracked open and eyes and looked down, blushing when they saw the heels and quickly saying: “Oh, I totally forgot.”

He was about to pull them off, when Tim said: “I bet my caliber 14 laser rifle you can’t function an entire day in heels.”

His hands stilling, Jonny gave him a look and asked: “What if I loose?”

“If you loose I want the goggles you stole from Hermes, don’t lie and say you don’t have them.” Tim answered, demanding something with high enough stakes that Jonny wouldn’t call bluff, but not high enough he wouldn’t take it.

“Deal.” Jonny said, hands retreating.

“I bet he gives up after an hour.” Marius called out.

“Yeah, me too.” Nastya agreed.

“Hm, I think he can make it through the day.” Ivy mused and Brian agreed: “Yeah, I also believe he can do it.”

Ashes got up and grinned: “Wait, I’ll write the bets down.”

Tim rolled his eyes, nothing to get the crew moving than a few bets. It didn’t matter that most stuff was practically shared and that they never spend money, instead robbing stores if they wanted something.

After a while the excitement had died down and it was just Tim and Jonny together. Tim needed to keep an eye on Jonny to see if he didn’t cheat after all.

“You can’t just sit there and look at your feet the entire day, that’s also cheating.” Tim broke the silence.

Jonnys head snapped up from where he was admiring at the heels. He covered up the fact that he got startled when Tim had called him out, by crossing his arms and huffing: “That was never specified.”

“Yes, it was. You needed to function in heels and I know you’ve never just sat around for an entire day.” Tim said.

“Why do you even care so much?” Jonny asked.

“I want the goggles.” Tim said with a tone like Jonny was stupid.

Jonny frowned, but didn’t meet his eyes as he repeated: “No, I mean about all this. Why do you care so much?”

Had Tim been caught? Had Jonny realized? He decided to play dumb and asked: “I’m sorry, I don’t follow?”

“I mean about all this, about me doing all the, you know, girly stuff.” he whispered the last part as if he was afraid that if he said it louder the words would explode.

Okay, so he had caught on to what Tim was doing and Tim needed to make sure Jonny did hate him after all this. Fuck. He was never good at that sort of thing, he’d hoped Jonny would never find out until he was completely comfortable, but no such luck.

So he thought carefully about his answer, then replied: “It seemed like it was something you wanted, but you didn’t do, so I don’t know, I thought I would help, sorry.”

“No, no sorry, just why would you do that? Don’t you think that it’s weird?” Jonny asked him.

“No, I don’t think it’s weird.” Tim told him, “Why do you think it’s weird? It’s just clothes, no one here aboard cares if you want to wear something that makes you happy. You heard Ashes, gender rules are stupid.”

“Who said it made me happy.” Jonny pouted.

“You’re ignoring the question, Jonny. Besides, I have good vision, surprisingly enough, I see how you get when I convince you to do something more girly.” he used Jonnys word, thinking that feminine might not go over well.

Jonny moped for a bit and said: “I don’t think it’s weird.”

Tim sighed: “Jonny, you just asked me if I thought it was weird and something is obviously stopping you from doing it. If you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine, but you don’t get to lie and say that something isn’t stopping you.”

It was quiet for a few seconds after that, it seemed Jonny was building up the courage to tell Tim something, so Tim waited patiently until the other was ready. Taking a deep breath, Jonny said: “I saw Henry hanging, when I was little.”

“Who’s Henry?” Tim asked, confused and not expecting that answer.

“Just a guy in my town, tried to pay another guy to have sex with him, so they hung him on his own windmill. Threw away all the bread that was made with his flour too and left him hanging there until he fell.” Jonny told him, “I saw him. I think I was ‘round twelve.”

Tim suddenly remembered how scared Jonny had been to admit he liked guys, how they even thought he might be straight at one point, because he had hidden it so well. It was crazy to see how much he’d grown since then.

“That must’ve been terrible.” Tim replied, unsure how else to react.

Jonny shrugged: “Wasn’t the first body, but it did leave an expression. I think what was shittier was how my dad talked about him afterwards, you know.”

“I can see how something like that would stop you from ever trying something that wasn’t considered safe,” Tim told him, choosing his words as carefully as he’d chosen his steps I a minefield “but we all aren’t your father, Jonny. The Aurora is not New Texas. You don’t have to hide here, if you want to walk around in high heels and a skirt with bright red lips and corset then you do that.”

“Everyone will think it’s weird if I suddenly did that. They’ll think it’s a joke and laugh at me.” Jonny was close to tears at this point.

“No, they won’t. I’ll make sure of that.” Tim said, putting a arm around Jonnys shoulders in a comforting manner, allowing the First Mate to lean into him.

“Why are you so nice about this? To me?” Jonny mumbled.

Tim let out a breath and decided that Jonny deserved some honesty in return. So he said: “I loved Bertie, you know, never told him that, but I loved them. When he died, and then I died, I regretted it, but I’ve gotten a new chance at life. I promised myself to never miss an opportunity again, you also deserve to do the things you never dared when you were mortal, Jonny.”

“I’m sorry about Bertie.” Jonny told him.

“It’s alright, I made peace with it, well, sort of.” Tim replied.

After that they fell quiet for a few minutes, just sitting with their sides pressed together. Jonny broke it: “You really think they won’t laugh?”

“Of course not. No one laughs at Ashes either, do they?” Tim said.

“That’s different, they fall in between, I’m still a man. They probably think I’m making fun of them and kill me for it, I would deserve it too.” Jonny retorted.

“It is different, but that doesn’t mean what you’re doing is bad. Everyone expresses themselves in different ways, I do it with painting my nails and braiding my hair or with my goggles and you do it your own way.” Tim said.

“I’ll think about it.” Jonny finally decided.

It was the best Tim could hope for. It was also clear that Jonny wanted the conversation about this to end, so Tim nodded: “Alright, now get up and help me sort the armory.”

“Why?” Jonny asked.

“You need to function on those bad boys and I want those goggles really bad, so walking it is.” Tim replied with a grin, “Chop, chop, we don’t have all day.”

Jonny rolled his eyes, but he seemed better as he pushed himself off the couch and slowly followed after Tim.

By the time the day was over, Jonny was richer and the proud owner of a caliber 14 laser rifle. He also was pretty good in walking on heels, although his feet hurt like a bitch and he complained about it the entire night.

After his conversation with Jonny, Tim tried not to push him any further. He had done his part and now it was up to Jonny to see what he would do with the things Tim had told him.

He still kept a close eye on the First Mate and was glad to see that Jonny still wore the jewelry and the belt, he also noted that his eyeliner had become a bit more elegant.

A few weeks, later Jonny also shyly asked Tim to paint his nails again, so Tim didn’t worry about Jonny spiraling into the wrong direction.

The heels didn’t come back though, but when Tim left his ones by Raphaella in the lab, he saw that one pair was missing.

They had been planetside a few times after that when Tim noticed something one day.

Jonny didn’t have a terrible posture, but he never stood up that straight, his belt was also a bit tighter, so Tim said: “There is something different about you today, can’t pinpoint it.”

His eyes widened and he blushed. He quickly looked around to see if anyone else was there, before he lifted his shirt and showed Tim the corset underneath. He said: “It’s just for me, I just wanted to know what it was like.”

Tim smiled and said: “Well, you look great.”

“Thank you.” Jonny returned the smile.

“Wanna race to the kitchen? I heard Marius was baking today. Loser gets shot, winner dibs?” Tim asked.

“Sure.” and Jonny was already sprinting, a bit more out of breath at the end, but otherwise just business as usual.

It didn’t happen every day and it wasn’t all that noticeable, but Tim could see when Jonny would be wearing the corset. He also got a few more flow-y white blouses and boots with a thicker heel than he normally had.

Months went by like that until one night Tim got awoken by a knock on his door. Grumpily he opened and squinted against the light with a harsh: “What?”

“Uh, sorry, I forgotten how early it was.” came Jonnys voice.

“Is there a reason for waking me?” Tim asked, still waking up, but a bit less grumpy with Jonny there.

“I need you to help me.” Jonny told him.

“Help you with what, Jonny? I don’t have the brainpower for your dancing around what you want me to do.” Tim rubbed his eyes.

Jonny dawdled for a second, then he softly said: “I wanna wear this outfit, but I don’t want anyone to laugh at me, but I also don’t wanna talk to them about it and I hoped you might help, but if you don’t that’s okay, sorry for waking you. That was dumb, sorry. I hadn’t thought about it and now it’s too-”

“Jonny, shut up.” Tim recognized the anxious rambling from when Jonny had come out to them and ended it as soon as possible, “I’ll help.”

“Uh, oh, thank you.” Jonny stammered.

“No, problem, now go back to bed.” Tim said, closing the door again.

He made sure to be up before Jonny and went to the common area near the kitchen. Everyone except Jonny was already there, which was good, so he cleared his throat and said: “People, quick little thing.”

“What is it, Tim?” Ivy asked.

“Jonny is going to come in with an outfit that you’re maybe not used to and everyone is going to be nice about, okay. I know you all like to tease, but not today.” he gave them all an intent looks until he was sure that all would listen.

“Of course.” Brian said.

“How is it differently then?” Ashes asked, “I’m not going to do anything, just curious.”

“Haven’t seen it, he just asked me to tell you.” Tim shrugged.

“Why you?” Nastya asked.

“Me and Jonny are friends.” Tim pouted, a bit offended at the suggestion that they weren’t, “We talk.”

Then the door creaked open and Jonny poked his head around the corner, before walking in. He had his black leather boots with the small heel on, a pair of tighter gray-brown pants that pleated out at the top, tucked in the pants was a papyrus colored corset, one of his white flow-y blouses coming from the top. He also had a few golden bracelets around his wrist, dangle-y earrings and two belts hung loosely around his hips.

He looked at the floor for a second, before he met their eyes and softly waved a: “Hi.”

Tim smiled and said: “Look at you! You look great, Jonny.”

The others realized what Jonny had been so afraid off and all fell over themselves to tell Jonny how much they liked his outfit and how well it suited him.

Slowly Jonny lost the tension and bashfulness he’d showed up with and by the end of breakfast he was roughhousing and yelling like normal and he’d already shot Ashes for finding out they’d cheated during their card game yesterday, like he hadn’t had a stack of cards up his sleeve the entire time as well.

They were about to bring away the dishes, when Jonny coughed and in an uncharacteristically vulnerable voice he said: “Uhm, thank you for not being assholes about it.”

“Why would we be, Jonny?” Brian asked, “It’s just clothes and you look good, comfortable. We wouldn’t be assholes about it.”

Jonny looked helplessly at Tim, who nodded and explained: “New Texas was a shit place, definitely not the best planet to grow up on if you’re someone like Jonny, or any of us for that matter.”

Understanding came over the others as they nodded with sympathetic expressions. Ashes slung an arm over Jonnys shoulders and said: “Well, fuck them anyway. You’re better than that.”

Grinning at them, Jonny agreed with a cheer: “Fuck yeah.”

Over the course of the next few weeks Jonnys outfits became more feminine. He still wore other stuff from time to time, but he seemed happier in the new outfits he wore, less like something was weighing on him. No one had seen the invisible weight until it was gone.

When they landed on a planet, Ashes loaded a gun and told Jonny: “We’re robbing some clothing stores, grab Tim since you’re so attached to him and come along.”

“What?” Jonny asked.

“We’re getting you more nice clothes, come on.” Ashes repeated, then they called out: “Tim!”

Tim poked his head around the corner: “What?”

“We’re robbing stores for nice clothes for Jonny, wanna come?” Ashes asked him.

“Heck yeah.” Tim yelled, running to join them.

“You don’t- I don’t- it’s not-” Jonny was stammering.

“Don’t be daft, Jonny.” Ashes told him, “You look nice and happy, you deserve more of those clothes. I know some of them got ruined with the blood and the bullet holes, so you need more. We’re getting them, no complaining.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Jonny was utterly confused.

Ashes gave him a smile and said: “I know how nice it is to have clothes that make you happy inside, now come.”

With that Jonny shut up and let them and Tim drag him along to the giant shopping center the planet had.

At first Jonny was hesitant about grabbing stuff. His eyes lingered on delicate necklaces, some socks with bows and even a dark blue skirt with a copper cog pattern on it, but he didn’t dare to touch them. So Ashes just ripped them of the rack and sternly stated: “You better start grabbing things, d’Ville.”

And so Jonny did, he started taking things from the racks. He got fishnets, heels, dresses, skirts, a few pants, dungarees, jewelry, makeup and hairpieces.

He still had a blush on his face throughout the whole thing and he didn’t make eye contact with Ashes or Tim, instead wordlessly handing them the clothes, but at least he was taking stuff he wanted.

It was all going well until Jonny stilled in front of a display and gaped at the feather fans, boas and hip pieces.

He swallowed heavily and stared, not noticing how Ashes and Tim gave him questioning looks and tried to get his attention. After a while of ignoring them, Tim put his hand on Jonnys shoulder and asked: “Jonny?”

Jonny snapped his head around and mumbled: “What? Oh, uh, nothing. I’m fine.”

His eyes drifted back to the display, ignoring Tim once more. So Tim spoke up again: “Want to get the feathers?”

“Oh, no, it’ll be impractical and they’ll get ruined and, you know, it’s stupid. Feathers don’t really fit with the whole aesthetic we got going on either, no matter how pretty they are.” he tapered off at the end, voice getting dreamy.

“We can make feathers steampunk.” Ashes told him.

Jonny bit his lip and looked at the display once more. If he had been hesitant about everything else, that couldn’t match up with how he was hesitating now. He shook his head softly and murmured to himself: “It wouldn’t be the same.”

“Why wouldn’t it be the same?” Tim asked.

Startling a bit, Jonny said: “Oh, it’s weird and doesn’t matter. Never mind.”

“We’ve been over this before, Jonny, spit it out.” Tim pushed him fondly.

“It’s just, this going to sound weird, but back home, back on New Texas, Jack he had- Well, you see he had these show girls in the casino.” Jonnys cheeks were burning as he explained, “They danced with feathers and all dolled up and stuff. I always- I, uh, I always wondered what it would be like to- to, you know, to be one of them.”

His voice was barely a whisper at the end and he buried his face in his hands as he whined: “See, it’s weird and embarrassing.”

Ashes lit up and said: “Jonny, we’re making you the prettiest show girl there is.”

“What?” Jonny squeaked.

“Oh, come on, this is what it’s been building up to, isn’t it.” Ashes said, “It’ll be fun, besides I have nothing against you walking around looking like a hot show girl, it’ll be just as good for me as it is for you.”

“I agree, I think it would be amazing to see you walk around like a cute show girl.” Tim agreed.

It looked like Jonnys head was going to explode from the heat on Jonnys cheeks as he scream-whispered: “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? It’s true.” Ashes said nonchalantly, “Now, go pick out some show girl outfits.”

They pushed him into the store and Jonny didn’t fight. This was it, a dream he’d had since he was fifteen. He walked through the store like it was holy ground and he touched all the pieces with reverence.

Tim and Ashes made themselves comfortable on the couch, setting down the enormous amounts of bags they had acquired throughout the day.

They didn’t get to see the outfits Jonny tried out, but he returned an hour later with five more bags and a small smile on his face. He said: “I think I have enough clothes now.”

Returning the smile, Tim said: “That’s nice, wanna go back?”

Jonny nodded and took some of the bags from them. The way back to the Aurora was silent, but comfortable. They took the bags to Jonny room, but before they could leave Jonny stopped them and said: “Uh, thank you, this means a lot.”

“No problem, Jonny.” Tim told him.

“Nah, did it with love.” Ashes winked.

Throughout time they saw more and more pieces they’d helped Jonny pick out and he looked very happy with his new stuff, and after the others had realized how he’d gotten the new outfits and accessories, they also started to leave little gifts for him, making him smile and blush every time he opened them.

Overall he still acted the same, except now he just kicked Marius in the nuts with a twirl of his skirt instead the swoosh of his vest, but they never saw the show girl pieces.

Not that they were going to ask about them either, from what Jonny had said it was clear the outfits were personal, but that didn’t stop them from talking about them.

“I just wonder what he looks like, you know.” Tim slurred, one night when it was just the two of them, draped over the couch with too much alcohol in their systems.

“You’re right, he’d probably have heels and like, ugh, legs.” Ashes tried to get their point across.

Tim understood them perfectly: “Yes! Legs. Oh, and waist. Yeahh.”

Ashes groaned: “We’re so fucked for the dude, aren’t we.”

“Yeah, we are.” Tim slid further down dramatically, “At least he’s pretty. And I think most of the crew is fucked at this point as well. Especially Brian and Marius.”

Agreeing Ashes took another swig, then they toasted: “To Jonnys legs and waist.”

Tim grinned and raised his bottle as well and echoed: “To Jonnys legs and waist.”

Unbeknown to them, it wasn’t just the two of them at all. Jonny had been on his way to join them again, finding that he couldn’t sleep, so drinking was a better option. He had stilled just outside the door to listen when he had heard the conversation.

After the toast the two fell asleep on the couch and Jonny backed away. His head was spinning with the blood that had rushed to it and the information that swirled around in his brain.

He’d put on some of the outfits before, a few times already, just in his bedroom. He’d looked at himself in front of the mirror inspecting every angle with a happy bubble floating in his chest. He liked looking like that, he liked feeling pretty, but the fear of looking stupid or being laughed at or killed had stopped him.

It didn’t matter that the others hadn’t killed him or laughed at him before for his outfits and told him it was okay, this was so much further than those things and he didn’t think he could emotionally survive it if they decided that it was too weird.

But now here were Ashes and Tim, toasting to the idea in that outfit. They liked it, despite the fact that they’d never seen it. That did funny things to him.

He didn’t fall asleep that night, instead he laid in his bed and replayed the conversation over and over in his head until he had analyzed it in a 100 different ways. He wanted advise about it, but the only people he trusted for advise about all this were Ashes and Tim, so he just tossed and turned instead.

The conversation he’d overheard played heavy on his mind the next day and it seemed the others picked up on it, because Tim cornered him and asked: “Hey, Jonny, are you okay? You look like something’s bothering you.”

On one hand Jonny didn’t want to admit what he had heard, but on the other he desperately wanted to know what they had meant with it all and what he was supposed to do with it.

He bit his lip then said: “I, uhm, I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t sleep and I knew you and Ashes were still awake, so I thought I’d come back, but then I heard you talking and it, uh, it was about me so I, I listened.”

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, Jonny.” Tim said mortified, “We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all. Sorry that you had to hear that. God that’s so embarrassing, sorry, really.”

“It’s okay, I just don’t get it.” Jonny replied.

“What?” Tim said.

“I don’t get it.” Jonny repeated.

“What don’t you get, Jonny, I’m still not a mindreader.” Tim told him gently.

Jonny bunched the fabric of his skirt, the dark blue one with the copper cog design, as a nervous habit and confessed: “Why you like the idea so much. For me it’s about liking myself and feeling pretty like the show girls, but I’m not them and I look dumb in it, honestly, so why would you two like it so much?”

“Did you ever think about the fact that we might think you look pretty in the clothes, Jonny?” Tim asked him.

“But I’m not pretty, I know I’m not.” Jonny exploded a bit, “I’m short and stocky with wild hair that never sits the way I want it, I’m a maniac and you can see that in my eyes. That’s not pretty, Tim, don’t tell me that it is.”

“Oh, Jonny.” Tim sighed and pulled him into a hug.

He kissed the top of Jonnys head and said: “Me and Ashes seem to disagree with you. We think you’re very pretty. You never see how lively you look when you’re beating Raphaella to a pulp after she’s pissed you off or how excited you get when someone gets you a little gift. You look very pretty then, there’s a reason the crew keeps giving you them.”

“But they don’t me-”

“Shush, Jonny, let me talk.” Tim ignored the interruption, “You can’t see everything in a mirror, dear. You’re very pretty, especially when you’re happy or violent. I loathe to think, you dislike yourself. We like the idea of you in those clothes, because to us you’re very pretty, beautiful even, and we think those clothes would accentuate that beauty even more.”

Jonny was quiet. He stood there in Tims arms and let the words wash over them. He’d never thought of himself as pretty or beautiful, the clothes made him feel like that, but there was always a voice in his head that told him it wasn’t true.

He swallowed thickly as he tried to get his emotions under control. He didn’t succeed only managing: “You called me dear.”

Like he was burned Tim let go and apologized again: “Sorry, Jonny, sorry, I let it slip out that was uncalled for.”

Jonny blushed and said: “I liked it.”

“You did?” Tim asked, not believing his ears.

“Uh, yeah, it’s nice?” Jonny replied uncertain.

“Oh, can I- can I keep doing it?”

“Please.”

Tim smiled and said: “Well, then, dear, I just want to say you’re very pretty, beautiful, just absolutely gorgeous and if you want to you can wear those pretty clothes and feel pretty, but you don’t have to, I just want to tell you that none of us would mind.”

“They’re a bit extravagant and impractical.” Jonny argued, unable to handle the complement and therefore ignoring it.

“Well, I’m sure that your task around this ship is nothing more than sit and look pretty, which you are very successful at.” Tim teased with a smirk.

Jonny spluttered a bit not able to come up with a good reply.

“Just think about, okay. Just like last time. I’ll be here.” Tim assured him gently.

Still not in control enough to speak Jonny nodded and hugged him again, giving him a small peck on the cheek, before hurrying down the hall, the click of his heels echoing behind him.

Once he’d disappeared Tim slid down the wall and touched his cheek, then he softly, but passionately whispered to himself: “Fuck.”

Before getting up to find Ashes, because they needed to know what had happened. He needed to be able to tell someone and he couldn't think of anyone better to vent to about this particular subject than Ashes.

Except maybe Brian and Marius, he knew those two were staring at Jonny and not all that subtly if he might add, but he and Ashes were the only ones that knew about the show girl outfits and it would feel like a break of trust towards Jonny to tell someone else.

After he’d told Ashes everything they decided that it was completely unacceptable that Jonny didn’t think he was pretty, so they decided to dial up the complements, leaving Jonny flustered. They also gave him the nickname darlin’.

With Tim and Ashes both calling Jonny a pet name of sorts the two others had decided that it was now law. So, Brian called him sweetheart and Marius addressed him as princess. Only The Toy Solider and the wlw aboard the Aurora referred to Jonny by his name.

At first Jonny had squeaked and hid when he was spoken to with a pet name, but now he only flushed a bright red.

It was during dinner when Jonny, with too much nonchalance to be normal, asked: “Is there anything unusual happening tomorrow?”

“Not as far as I’m aware, princess.” Marius said, “How so?”

“Oh, uh, nothing in particular, I wanted to wear this outfit, but it’s a bit impractical, so if there was going to be a lot of action I’m not going to put it on.” Jonny tried a laid back tone, but the thrumming nervousness was still clear.

Tim and Ashes visibly perked up at his confession and Jonny moped: “Okay, calm down. You caught me, I wanna wear one of the outfits, you happy?”

“What outfits, sweetheart?” Brian asked, very interested.

Jonny then realized that only Tim and Ashes knew what he had meant and that he was now going to have to explain it to everyone there what he had been referencing. He gestured vaguely and mumbled: “Oh, you know, uhm, an outfit with, uhm, feathers ‘n stuff...”

He trailed off at the end and ducked into himself, Tim made a questioning noise and Jonny gave him a nod, so Tim said: “Jonny has a very pretty outfit that Ashes and I haven’t seen either. It’s like a show girl. They used to have them back on New Texas, it’s where all this started.”

As red as a cherry, Jonny nodded and mumbled: “It’s just stupid, but it’s fun? It’s not special or anything.”

“Of course it’s special, darlin’.” Ashes exclaimed, “And it’s not stupid, you’re going to look gorgeous in it and if I’m honest I will be looking forward to tomorrow if that’s in store.”

“Ahw, princess, it’ll be nice, getting all dolled up for us.” Marius smiled.

“But it’s so extra. You know what I’m not doing it, it’ll be dumb, serves no purpose. It’ll be weird.” Jonny was already back paddling.

“Dear, no.” Tim said, “It doesn’t have to serve a purpose, do you think I need these goggles for my job? Or Brian and Marius those hats? Or The Toy Soldier that uniform? Of course not. It’s all extra things that make us happy. You wear that outfit if you want to.”

“Alright.” Jonny gave in, making them all smile, “But now it’s blown out of proportion, it’s really not that special.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Brian told him.

The rest of the dinner passed quietly, Jonny hightailing out of there as soon as he was done, not meeting anyones eyes. When he was gone Nastya groaned: “You’re all being disgusting, you know that right?”

“Like you and Aurora didn’t annoy us for centuries.” Tim rolled his eyes.

“I think it’s cute.” Raphaella smiled, “Jonny seems happy, don’t you agree, Nastya?”

Nastya was silent for a beat, then she threw her hands up and said: “Fine, I guess, he is and that’s good. He deserves it after everything, but that doesn’t mean I want it rubbed in my face, he’s like my brother and it’s weird.”

“I recall one time you told him, you quote ‘fuck the ship’, so I think he’s earned a bit of retribution.” Ivy reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Nastya dropped the subject.

After that they all went their separate ways as they thought of what tomorrow would bring, hopefully Jonny confidant in a show girl outfit, but who’s to say. If he backed out, he would and they couldn’t fault him for that.

The next morning, Jonny was standing in front of the mirror inspecting himself. He’d put on his favourite of the outfits, even some makeup to match, but he wasn’t sure.

Yes, the others had liked the idea, but what id he couldn’t live up to it? Or what if they had the wrong idea and when they saw him they would laugh at him? He could still back out, but that would disappoint them and he didn’t want to do that either.

He sighed and twirled again.

In the end it was the Aurora, who made the decision for him. A panel appeared with the message: The others are getting worried, if you’re not there in ten minutes I am 99% sure they’re going to look for you.

Ten minutes, that wasn’t enough time to get this all off and the last thing he wanted was for them to find him half dressed as he hurried to get undressed. He just had to take the plunge and hope they really did like it.

Tim had barely stood up to look for Jonny, when the sound of heels clicking at a fast pace called their attention to the door. A bit winded Jonny stopped in the doorway and breathed heavily as he apologized: “Sorry, lost the time.”

Four mouths hung agape as they stared at their First Mate.

The corset was a light pink that was dripping in pink rhinestones and lace. It was pulled tight to make his waist a few inches thinner. The hip pieces were a combination of feathers in the same pink and white, accentuating the hourglass figure the corset was giving him.

Underneath, he wore sheer white stockings with white lace on top and matching pink heels.

Around his fingers he had a few silver rings and rings with pearls. He also wore velvet pink gloves that went up to his elbow and he had a huge fan made from white feathers in his right hand.

To top it all off, he had put on a light shiny eyeshadow that sparkled along with pink lipstick and sharp eyeliner. On his head rested a silver headpiece, which also had pearls to make it all complete.

Once he noticed them all staring, he realized what outfit he was wearing and promptly hid his face behind the fan.

With the movement Tim came back online and he said with wonder: “Fuck, how are you so unbelievably pretty, dear.”

Jonny peaked out from behind the fan and slowly made his way over to the seat under the scrutiny of everyone else.

Since the others were still processing and Jonny was clearly still a bit uncomfortable with the lack of reaction from most, Nastya sighed and said: “I have to admit, Jonny, I didn’t think you could clean up so well.”

The complement wasn’t as laden with affection nor filled with words his mind couldn’t wrap around, so Jonny shot her a smile and did a little bow as he said: “Thank you, I tried.”

That got the others to function as well and they all told Jonny how nice and pretty he looked. Nastya rolled her eyes at the mushiness, but she couldn't be mad at them for making that smile appear on Jonnys face, not really.

After breakfast Ivy left on her own, while Nastya guided Raphaella and The Toy Soldier away to give the five of them some privacy.

Brian had meanwhile walked up to Jonny and offered a hand. He asked: “Can I have a dance, sweetheart?”

Jonny had never been more grateful for the fan, it really was perfect to hide his blush behind as he accepted the hand and allowed Brian to twirl him around.

He made him spin till their arms were stretched and then Jonny was taken over by Tim, who dipped him before swaying him from side to side, holding him so that he could hide his face in the crook on his neck.

He was then offered to Marius, who made him dance to a faster silent tune, putting his hands on his waist as they spun around the room with quick steps. Marius ended their little dance by picking him up and depositing him in Ashes arms.

Ashes held him for a second, before they carefully set him down on his feet and pulled him into a proper waltz. Jonny couldn't for the life think of where they would’ve picked that up, but this was Ashes and Ashes was full off surprises so he just let it be a delightful surprise.

After the impromptu dance session he was settled on the couch, smile high on his cheeks. They all settled down around him and with a happy sigh he stated: “I don’t know why you’re all so nice to me, but thank you.”

“Because we like you, dear.” Tim informed him.

With wide eyes Jonny looked as they all nodded with a smile. He then frowned and asked: “Really? All of you?”

“We tried to make it obvious, darlin’.” Ashes told him.

Apologetically Brian added: “We didn’t mean to spring it on you like this, sweetheart, and we want to assure you that it is completely fine if you don’t like us back.”

“Oh, no, I do, I just-” Jonny squirmed in his seat, before the word dam broke: “It would be cheating or something wouldn't it? I mean, it’s selfish and weird if I love all of you and I don’t want to make you feel bad or pick one of you or something, you’re all too nice for that and, oh, what would the others say or maybe I’m not- I’m not what you all assume and then you want to leave me or-”

“Dear.” Tim tried to cut him of, “Dear, stop, please. For us?”

Jonny stopped and gasped for air, fiddling with the fan as he vibrated in his seat with anxiety.

“It’s not selfish or weird.” Tim told him, “You just have a big heart, dear, and that just makes us love you more, okay. We’re also not going to make you pick, we don’t mind sharing, really, if you’re willing to love all of us, we would only be honored.”

“And Nastya already gave us as much of a blessing we’re going to get out of her.” Ashes said, “So don’t go breaking your pretty little head about that, darlin’.”

“You don’t have to give us an answer now, princess, take your time.” Marius assured him when Jonny stayed silent for a few moments.

“No, it’s- just processing.” Jonny said with a chocked off voice.

“Would it help if we hugged you?” Tim asked.

The nod Jonny gave was small, you would’ve missed it, if you weren’t paying attention. Luckily they all were paying very close attention, so they quickly gathered him up in their arms, until Jonny was sideways in Ashes lap with his feet thrown over Marius lap, while Tim hugged him from behind and Brian from the side.

They sat like that for a while, until Jonny broke the silence: “I, I do really love you all and I’d be, I’d be honored to call you all my partners, but I’m no good at that and I can’t promise you that I can be what you want me to be.”

“We just want you to be you, sweetheart.” Brian petted his hair softly.

“Yes, you say that now, but…” Jonny replied.

“And we’ll see how it goes, we just need to talk a bit together and see where everyone stands.” Marius said, “But we’ll figure it out. You won’t disappoint us, trust us.”

“But we can talk about all that later.” Ashes lifted the quiet, serious mood, “Because we really haven’t talked enough about how breathtakingly beautiful you look today, darlin’.”

With the temporary breather, everyone relaxed as they again lavished Jonny in complements and praises, this time also softly giving him pecks and hugging him close while they praised him. Until Jonny was flushed entirely red and beaming with pride, practically emitting a happy glow.

He was happy, they were happy and they had an eternity to be happy together.

New Texas was not a lot of things, but it was a shit place to grow up in if you’re someone as special and beautiful as Jonny d’Ville. However, if you managed to take the New Texas out of the boy, you were left with someone amazing.

~~~~~~~~~~

I know I normally only do A/Ns with AO3, but I thought these were too important for that: 

All sexualities and stuff are headcanons, not a reflection of the band members or the characters if they see it differently.

Also, aroace people are queer and 100% valid and I will fight whoever says differently, (just in case that wasn’t clear, I love you all, be proud!)

Clothes are for every gender, fuck anyone who tells you otherwise, you can come to me and I will make sure their kneecaps are gone if they harass you.

In my mind this was just Jonnys gender expression/presentation not identity. For me, he wanted to be part of that world of glamor and attention, so here he still identifies as male with he/him pronouns, but if you want to think this is pre-exploration that will make him later realize he’s trans or non binary or any other gender, feel free! It’s up to your interpretation!

Although most the polycule ID’s as gay that does not mean Ashes isn’t the proud enby that they are, exceptions can be made and if the person is alright with their partner ID’ing as gay despite being with them then that’s their choice, as long as communication is there. It depends on the situation.

I didn’t really include the discussion of boundaries between them, because I am not in that sort of relationship, so I don’t think I would be able to write it down properly and I wouldn’t want to do the beautiful poly community a disservice :D

[im-the-punk-who]

Hey because I'm not sure we've talked about her yet, but tell me about Madi? 💜

YES! I will talk about Madi. 

How I feel about this character

Ugh so, like all the female characters, I LOVE her personally, but I hate her ending, how her character is written, and how she differs from her historical counterpart. 

I really love Madi as a character. Especially as such a well rounded, beautifully acted, IMPORTANT character, she is so important. I was watching Black Sails with a black friend of mine, and he said that, even with the ending, even though it’s not good, he could forgive Black Sails because of the things he’s so often used to seeing that they didn’t do. Madi lives. LOVE for Madi is what makes the revolution fail(and yeah, it sucks that it’s against her agency, but the point he made was that you NEVER see LOVE for a BLACK WOMAN be the thing that stops the world.) Black Sails without Madi is a completely different story, and I love that she is an active part of the plot as well as important enough to other characters(not just Silver, Flint, her mother, the alliance, all rely on her at some point. Even Rogers recognizes her value.) That, as low a bar as it is, is an important one.

I love that she’s smart and hopeful and determined. I see her very much as a parallel to Thomas, even moreso than Flint, in that she believes in things with her whole being. She has that line from Don Quixote to Flint, but I think it’s as much a dig at herself as it is at Flint. 

“Too much sanity may be madness — and maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be.”

Flint has just told her exactly what could be accomplished if they are successful. He’s not dreaming, he sees the world in terms of if/then. But she sees the future beyond that. She sees the possibility and she’s drawing the parallel(unknowingly) between herself and Thomas and I LOVE it.

But she’s also SMART, she’s WHIP fucking SMART and she KNOWS how to lead her people and she is confident in herself. She is tough, there isn’t an ounce of self-doubt in her and the way that shows the LOVE she must have known growing up??? Just. I love Madi because I love how much she is loved. But also like, she is allowed to be naive in some ways, to be over confident and over trusting. She’s allowed to have flaws that I don’t think detracts from her value as a character, but are the natural progression when someone who, by her mother’s own admission, has been sheltered but still knows of injustice.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Pre-finale I LOVE her and Silver. I thought there was such potential there for her to become his rock, to show him that there were rewards, to be his Thomas, in a way, to love him surely enough that he could take the chance to crack himself open and start healing the hurt parts. And I think then he absolutely would have been ride or die - part of what I hate so much is the parallel between Thomas and James, and Madi and Silver, is that Thomas and James were able to have the time to build that and Madi and Silver weren’t. And the tragedy is that it ends in so much more heartbreak than just personal ones, because of who Madi is, what she represents, and when it happens.

Post finale I ship Madi with whoever and whatever makes her fucking goddamn happy and that probably isn’t John Silver at this point.

BUT my two crack ships are Eleanor/Madi bc i’m ALL about that girlhood bromance and the POWERSHARING dynamic between them??? Magnifique. and Madi/Joshua because Joshua is a fucking dumbass but also has a great heart and seems like a good guy and cares and makes connections and has dumbass false teeth and Madi deserves someone who will be loyal to her and understand her and make her smile.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

GIVE MADI HER GAY UNCLES JAMES MCGRAW AND THOMAS HAMILTON OR I WILL RIOT.

Like my absolute ABSOLUTE non romantic OTP to END all OTPs is Madi and Flint. Because I do think she and Thomas are so similar in so many ways, and honestly just because Flint and Madi get along???? so well?????? like when they do become friends, and they connect, you can tell like, Flint’s just like YES. ANOTHER DAUGHTER. GREAT. THIS IS MORE THAN FINE. and just penguin waddles his way over there and like???? and then Madi - who for all she has HAD Mr. Scott hasn’t really ...experienced the True Dad Energy like that? And she finds in him a partner too, someone who sees the possibility and the freedom that she has been searching for on her island and never finding. Her mother has that line 

“they are dangerous, their ideas are dangerous - especially to you.”

Madi didn’t become a revolutionary when the pirates found their island. I get the feeling this has been something she’s been arguing with her mother for a while, and now, with Flint, she’s FOUND that kindred spirit and I just???? love them???????? So much?????????

And especially post finale. Just....just give Madi her gay uncles, James who is like, so chill??? Now that he’s away from having to lead people and be responsible for people’s lives, and he’s FUNNY and she’s never actually seen him smile like that before?? And he plays with all the kids wherever he is and they NEVER mcfucking want him to leave. And Thomas who will talk to her from dusk until dawn about treaties and British Law and how to circumvent this clause or extort this particular weakness. 

And at first she’d been weary - after everything with John - of trusting another group of white men. But from the first moment it’s been clear that here, her word will be respected and her wishes upheld because she and Flint share that vision and so does Thomas, and the reports she gets back from the escaped slaves who have reached freedom through the encampment that now sits where Oglethorpe’s plantation once was. 

And while she is learning from her mother she is also learning from Julius, from Eme, from Flint, from Thomas. She learns, and learns, and when it’s finally ready for her to step into her mother’s shoes it is a seamless and peaceful thing, like one exhale flowing into the next inhale, it doesnt start or end with violence and wailing, but with laughter, and joy - bittersweet but there all the same - and okay this kind of got away from me give MADI NICE THINGS OR I WILL RIOT.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Huh I don’t....honestly know enough about the popularity of opinions on Madi to know what’s unpopular but I feel like ‘Silver doesn’t deserve her’ is at least a somewhat controversial take? I don’t know OH. Wait I know what my unpopular opinion will be:

She shouldn’t have existed because she exists solely to be a love interest to Silver where the real person she is based off of was an old matron Queen who is basically the Maroon Queen in BS just with Madi’s actual drive and she so badass we STILL use the guerilla tactics she developed to use against the British today but Steinberg was like ‘No, I think a black, 60 y/o Xena is boring, let’s make that part of the character basically non-existent and give her role to the 20 y/o daughter and also make her in need of saving from the white man. That’s hot.’

Cool. I will expect your assassins at dawn.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Eleanor/Madi WHEN

MADI/JOSHUA WHEN!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also that her storyline hadn’t been shoved aside for the emotional angst of the white men, that we had seen more of her in the aftermath, that she had been given agency in her own future and in the future of her people that she clearly believed in. I just wanted good things for Madi and for her to be respected as a character.

To that end, what I wish WOULD happen is that she teams up with Thomas and James at the Savannah BnB to basically completely ignore the treaty with the British, funnel slaves off the islands, and, while they don’t restart the war, they still help to undermine slavery in the Bahamas and the Colonies and uhhh basically everything i said up under the non-romantic OTP. xD

Assuming the assassins don’t get to me, ASK ME ABOUT MY OPINIONS

[purplerose244]

Thinking journal for season 12 Prime Empire 😎😎😎 (2/2)

Here we go with the next part! I really hope we get some major big plot twist at some point, because it's all really cool but I need something to really change from good to GREAT

For now, let's focus on the next episodes!

It's the 17th of April and here we go!

GENERAL

I feel like there's little time to really pull up something, I don't know. Like, what plot twist could happen now that there just half season left with only Unagami/Dyer's identity and maybe Scott's past as mysteries? There's little space for more plotlines, that's what I think

Overall fighting scenes, character designs and game backgrounds are AWESOME!!

Let's see how it goes, maybe I'll be surprised. Wouldn't be weird for Ninjago to pull a bomb last episode 😅

ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK

ZANE AND PIXAL FINALLY!!! IT'S DETECTIVE TIME!!! 😎

Okay, so there is a photo, and there is a friend. As I thought, Dyer might not be Unagami at all, I feel like there's a lot of backstory coming along. I wonder if Scott has a part in this... WHERE IS SCOTT 💙

Ah, of course Kai would spend his credits on an avatar, I should've known, my flame babe can be such a dummie sometimes I mean why would you even do such a thing as buying an avat-

NEVER MIND I LOVE IT 😍😍🔥🔥 I thought him being blonde was going to bother me, I actually kinda like the change. Still prefer my baby brunette, but it's really cool as well. The best of this season are definitely the characters designs

Was that "let's fight an ogre mission" a hint for next season? I wouldn't be weird, but it's been a while since I've seen forshadowing for new season in this show

HECK YEAH THE DANCING EPISODE!!! I was waiting for this, Jaya is so cute while they are on the dancefloor 😍 They have chemistry 😘😘😘

I like the implication that Nya was really bad at dancing before Jay, like Kai covering his eyes because he cannot handle her sister not being perfect at something 😛

And Cole being the dance expert, that little tango moment with Kai I bet made many lavashippers super happy 🖤❤🖤❤

THE TRIPLE TIGER SASHAY ALL THE WAY FROM SEASON 1-2 ABSOLUTELY YES YES YES!!! AND HE DIDN'T ROAR, HE STRAIGHT UP SAID "NO ONE PUTS COLE IN A CORNER" I'M DYING!!! With this and Nya's 'catch me', I expect so many Dirty Dancing AUs from this 😂👌

JAYA BEING AWESOME HECK YEAH ❤💙❤💙

JUST LOOK AT THEM!!! Nya better say I love you back soon, like Kai and Skylor are a little behind, Zane and Pixal already said it, Jay can't stop doing it, come on girl it's your turn! 😎😎

RACER SEVEN

SCOTT IS BACK YES!!! 😍😍😍💙💙💙

Okay, I think my theory won't happen 😅 Feels like there are not enough episodes for a good reveal, and it doesn't seem like Scott is that influenced by Jay. My last idea is that perhaps he has spent so much time in the game like Jay said (POOR BABY 😭) that he doesn't remember. Maybe the moment he will come back, we will find out that it is Jay's brother/twin, I mean he still has those dragon and lightnings drawing on his back... yeah I like this theory a lot, gonna hold on to it!

So Scott is indeed a person trapped in a game, at least that's confirmed 👍

Also he's got some major issues, the poor thing, and I think there is some special reason behind him not wanting to race besides having just one life.

HERE IT COMES

OH MY GARMADON 😂😂😂 Okay, okay, it's actually better than I expected really. The scarf is cool, and so are the golden tattoos, the suit and the golden sleeve. It's just the mohawk that will take time to get used to, it's not even bad, just weird 🤷‍♀️

Racer Seven is so cool! Always nice seeing a new female character in this show that is not a love interest. I do love Nya, Pix and Sky to death, but I love variety too 💪

Really, really nice the piece of all Racer Seven's crashes! Impactful and sad, a never ending loop that she wants to break through from. That's the heavy stuff I like!

Okay, ready for the race! And I'm... scared? Like, a lot of they guys have one life?? KAI HAS ONE LIFE?? 😱😱 I hope for the best I guess 😅

THE SPEEDWAY FIVE-BILLION

Might be my favorite episode yet

Seven is SO COOL, it's another reason why I'm sad these episodes are so short! I really would had liked see her more, truly have her bond with the guys

Soooo... I guess since Scott's been in the game for 30 years it's safe to assume he's not Jay's brother/twin. To be fair it's really hard to tell a LEGO person's age😅 At this point I guess he could be either Dyer's friend, even if it sounds unlikely, or... idk, still think he could have a connection with Jay. Maybe he's like... an older brother? Libber had him a long while ago?

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! WHY DID SCOTT HAVE TO DIEEEEEEEE??? 😭😭😭 Just when he was getting more involved, come on! He even said he wanted to try that hero stuff, I love him! WE WILL SAVE YOU MY TECH BABY!!!

Cole getting a ride from Kai, this season has some pretty good lava material ❤🖤❤🖤

I've got some major Ninjaball Run vibes from this, that brings me back 😂 Even the no rules thing is there, come on, there has to be a little bit of inspiration from it!

Still don't know what I think of the rats, kinda seems useless and annoying, gonna be honest. But it's a nice race, exciting with nothing big happenin-

Kai and Cole sacrifice for Jay

I KNOW I THOUGHT ABOUT IT BEFORE BUT I'M NOT OKAY WITH THIS!!! MY FLAME BABE AND MY ROCKY BABY!!! 😭😭😭😭 WHY PEOPLE KEEP DYING IN THIS EPISODE???

I so, so enjoyed how they did it. Like, one look between them to realize that yes, this is it, Jay is the expert and needs to go on. This is the end of our race... AAAHHH!! (Infinite shipping potential too)

Omg Nya screaming her brother's name and Jay his best friend's name, while Lloyd looks so devastated (those masks are actually kinda espressive, I really like them). Wow. This is the angst I needed, finally👌

YES SEVEN WON!!! HECK YEAH GIRL!!! SO HAPPY FOR HER!!! Also Okino in the background being happy, nice touch!

And now they are three... it's gonna end up with only Jay huh. I... I'm not ready actually, my heart 😢 They better all hug when this is all over!!!

STOP, DROP AND SIDE ROLL

I CAN SEE THEY ARE KEEPING THE FEELS FOR LAST APPARENTLY??? 😭

The music of the old school section was actually very nice, reminds me of the past, I kinda hoped The Fold were going to release some game themed songs. Been a while since I have one of those 😍

Lol, explaining the side scroll games was actually pretty cool

YES THEY ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGED THE AIRJITSU!! Maybe they will remember they can used it, right Cole? The ladder scene? YOU CAN FLY???

OMG NYA ACTUALLY SAID CICLON-DO JUST HOW CUTE IS THAT!!! All the way from my favorite season Possession, Jay's definition of airjitzu that I actually still kept in one of my fanfictions 😂

Okay the design of the temple of madness is REALLY cool, you can immediately tell it's from an old videogame. Gives me the double vibe the googles for the first 3D movies used to give me 😂

Also look at this

THIS IS ADORABLE!! 💙💚💦 Really old style videogame 😂

And there we go!! Harumi!! Since I saw her in the set I was wondering what she was going to be, maybe an avatar or an NPC of some sort... THIS HURTS WAY MORE!!! And of course pure heart BABY boy Lloyd doesn't feel good fighting her, he had a crush on her! AND HE FREAKING SAW HER DIE!!! It's really sad that he still hopes for her to be good...

The fighting scenes are really, REALLY good! So fluid and active! This fight was really pleasant to watch, not gonna lie 💜

NOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOT MY GREEN BABY BOY!!!! I KNEW IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN BUT STIIIIIIL!!! 😭😭😭

Okay, down to three members. Remaining Zaptrap and water godess... omg Nya will totally die first and at that point Jay will go completely nuts. I'm both scared and DYING TO HAPPEN!!! ANGST FINALLY!!! THIS IS THE STUFF!!

Got some major Skybound feeling, like when it was only Jay and Nya... will Nya finally say I love you back?? I HOPE SO ❤💙❤💙

With the three keytana now, what will happen? I'm actually curious now, this is the exciting stuff I need! And yes I do realize it's a little weird that for getting hype I need my faves to die 😅

NINJAGO CONFIDENTIAL

OMG THEY ACTUALLY DID A DETECTIVE THEMED EPISODE BLACK AND WHITE I'M DYING 😂😂😂

The Weekend Whip with sax, never thought I needed this in my life 😍

Bet Brent had a blast recording this

Okay this is the third Chima reference I see, they better throw some Nexo Knights hits as well next season! Come on, it's about freaking knights!!!

This is not what I expected when they said there was going to be an episode with only Zane and Pixal but I'm sure as HECK not complaining 👌

Oh, seeing Pixal joining in so normally is so beautiful, I really wish we could have her even more often

Dareth's karaoke bar! From Sons of Garmaron! Also him guessing first try because the ninja really do get post in other dimensions very often 😂 Gotta love them indeed

Pff Zane narrating and getting stopped every time because of it, how I missed this naive little nindroid

So the bartender Tony is the friend? That's it? A little easy really, hoped for more... still calling him Milty is cute 💕

Buddy's Pizza from season 2!!! This season is killing me with references and I LOVE IT SO MUCH 💜💜💜

So, the mechanic is free again (the Kryptarium dudes should really learn how to do their job right 😓), Zane is kidnapped, and Pixal has a fedora that makes her possibly even cuter. I have emotions

AH!! KNEW IT!! UNAGAMI IS NOT DYER!! FREAKING CALLED IT!!... kinda expected really, but still called it 😅

So Unagami was the first name of Prime Empire and is also an AI that got crazy and was shut down, but now is back after programming the game itself and wants to get to the real world?... I'm down with it

So I'm guessing we won't get much of a Scott backstory... Eh, let's see how it goes!

THE PRODIGAL FATHER

I was seriously confused by why those dudes wanted to kidnapped Wu, but it made sense later. Still come on sensei, you're a freaking half god or something, pull yourself together 🤦‍♀️

Very nice that Pixal is the one to bring up the argument about feelings and AI. So very nice to have her in this!!!

I THOUGHT ZANE WAS GOING TO TAKE A BREAK FROM LAST SEASON, WHY ARE THEY MAKING HIM SUFFER AGAIN??? 😭

Oh finally the backstory of Unagami I'm really curious about what happened in the past and what exactly brought the shut down of Prime Emp-

I LITERALLY CARE ABOUT NOTHING ELSE BUT THIS BEAUTIFUL GAMER BOY IN REAL LIFE!!! 😍😍😍😍😍

So Scott was the first beta tester, Milton asked Unagami to make the experience as exciting as possible, and that ended very badly so the game was shut down and THEY LEFT HIM INSIDE FULLY KNOWING HE WAS THERE??? I HATE DYER NOW!!!

Although it is really interesting knowing a tech genius like him, until now we got Dr. Julien and Cyrus Borg that were plenty open about the idea of AI with feelings as meaningful as humans'. While he doesn't get that, they are only machines for him and that's the reason why he doesn't understand how much Unagami is mad and filled with need for revenge.

This is why I want more than 11 minutes, the themes of this season are really, REALLY cool. I would have loved more introspection and development.

I guess Scott being Jay's brother is officially debunked 😅 Although I am curious about the life he left behind, since he was stuck in that game for 30 years. He still has those lightnings on the jacket I don't understand...

DON'T YOU DARE LET ZANE BE DESTROYED AGAIN PLEASE I STILL CRY WATCHING "THE TITANIUM NINJA"!!! 😢😢😢😢😢😢

The portal is open, Zane might get destroyed, Unagami wants revenge, Jay and Nya are the only one left and I'm pretty sure Nya will be killed as well leaving only Bluebell so there's THAT. So yeah, this is actually pretty cool!

Two episodes left. Okay Ninjago season 12 Prime Empire, wow me 😎

THE TEMPLE OF MADNESS

This felt a little simple if I'm gonna be honest. I felt like the last mission before facing Unagami was a little basic, with nothing really exciting. Still liked it, but this is probably my least favorite episode 🤷‍♀️

Of course, put Jay is a sushi restaurant-themed level and he will kill you with puns 😂 I love this prankster

Again, the fighting scenes are dope. Definitely one of my favorite things since they changed the animation. You lose something you win something 😙

Wooo, Jay saying that he had trained for years just for kick his butt was actually cool! Bluebell is unleashing!

"And that's how we roll!". You rock we roll, am I right 😂

AH!!! CALLED IT!!! TOTALLY CALLED IT!!! MY POOR BABY BLUEBELL 😭😭

I wish Nya said that she loves Jay back though! Freaking come on girl, he is your yang!!! ❤💙❤💙

Unagami is not Dyer, he wants to get to the real world, I'm actually kinda curious about the confrontation that is about to happen... ALSO THERE BETTER BE LOTS OF HUGS WHEN THIS IS OVER

I... genuinely forgot about the dragon medallion 😅 Eh, I love dragons so I'm fine with it. Well, let's see how it ends!!!

GAME OVER

Wow, I actually love this ending?? A LOT?? After last episode I didn't have much hope, but after seeing it I gotta say, it was really great 👌👌

Thanks for not dying on us again Zane, much appreciated

Jay taking charge is quite rare and when it happens you know things are about to get crazy 😂 It was really nice seeing how sensible he could be, telling that Unagami wasn't evil after all, that he needed closure and answers

I know I miss the animation peak we reached with SoG and Hunted, but I gotta say the atmosphere of the city with the lightnings and the gray sky was really awesome. Very cool.

Pff, that part with the elevator though, reminds me of the one in season 1 that made me start watch Ninjago ✌ Also it's always Borg's Tower indeed 😂

OKINO KICKING BUTTS HECK YEAH LOOK AT OUR RONIN GO!!!

And wow. WOW. I didn't expect Jay to drop the I'm adopted bomb on us, I think I never heard him talk about it since Skybound (that technically never happened so 😅). It was SO good seeing him sympathize with Unagami because he was also left with no explaination. His desire to know, along with the hope that the past is the past, but they had a good reason for. Also he freaking said he didn't have the chance to ask because Cliff is dead and I 😭😭😭😭

And here I melted, because we finally see the situation for what truly is, the way Jay also sees it: Unagami is a kid, a child that doesn't understand how the world works, that just wants to make his father proud but got rejected instead. The confrontation was actually touching, I really wish we had more time for that. Even a little resistance from Unagami, another fight, and a finally reconcilliation with Dyer.

MY NINJA BABIES ARE BACK I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!! ❤💚💙🖤💦💎

Could you seriously be cuter than this?? ❤💙❤💙 I wished for more hugs but I'll settle for this I guess 😍

Okay, very nice to see Seven and Okino out there and deciding to live their lives in Ninjago, nice to see some others like the rats going back to Prime Empire. As Unagami said, he gave them a choice, it's up to them at this point

But I'm sorry, WHY ARE WE NOT GOING TO TALK WITH SCOTT??? That guy's been trapped inside the game the longest, not even a "Hey bud, you're alive, cool cool"? I know I've been overbearing about how much I love Scott, especially since I had all those theories about him (still don't know why he has lightnings on his jacket and hat, is it just a style thing? Idk), but come on! Well I guess if he's happy I am 🤷‍♀️

Is that his girlfriend or something? After 30 years? Or maybe she got trapped with him a while later? Or maybe that's his... mom? Look, we all know determine the age of LEGO characters is hard, give me a break please 😅😅

Overall, very nice ending, it brought everything together quite nicely. I'm satisfied, yes!! 💜💜

FINAL THOUGHTS

As I said, the episodes' lenght I really think gets in the way of making this an excellent season. There is so much that could be explored more, the choice matter, all the amazing characters, and the AI feelings stuff from the latest episodes. There is room for more, I wished we got that

The characters though were really amazing. Between Scott, Okino, Seven and Unagami himself, there were very different personalities with very different dreams and thoughts, that made this ride much more interesting

Fighting animation was 👌👌👌

Comebacks from past seasons were 👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌

Maybe it didn't really focused on Jay as much until the end? Yeah it was about him, but we got to see his sensibility and his past only last episode. He loves Nya, he likes videogames, of course but there's more about him than meets the eye! Wished we saw that, but in general it was nice seeing him first line again 💙

I liked this season. It has flaws, but I enjoyed many parts and at the end I was left satisfied 👍

Just... wasn't Jillian supposed to be in this? Or is it next season? She said a mom was going to come back, I took for granted it was going to be Edna. I'm curious about next season now... FINALLY A COLE SEASON EVERYONE!!! 🖤🖤🖤

Thank you for leaving notes to my last rant, this helps me not jump excitedly every time a new episode comes out 😅 Well then, that's all from me!! Have a nice day everyone!! 💜💜💜

[write-like-you-mean-it]

A Hunter’s Prey: Expectations and Reality

Adding a second person to watch over was finally taking its toll on Ilumi. It was a constant need to watch over the two people in his care. As long as one was at home, he could find the other. The last known place was near the NGL in Dolio City. It was a long flight out of the way so that he kept his promise to his Father. 

Too bad it was a bust lead. Illumi had lost track of Killua after they’d disappeared into Greed Island many, many months ago. He did keep a record of the fact Killua re-took the hunter exam at the beginning of the year. All of this was becoming tiresome and aggravating. 

Illumi had to abandon the lead on Killua due to the job that needed to be done in York New. It was a simple execution of a small boss leader who had become too narcissistic for the  mob to handle. It was a quick job. The Hunters hired by the boss were easily dispelled. 

It was very rare that the jobs took so little time. The main goal was to check on Killua, but the simplicity of the job was a nice plus. Maybe he’d be back sooner to see Y/N. Ilumi decided to stop by the apartment to pick up a few nice things for her. Maybe she’d at least stop yelling at him. 

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

“I see the bank transfer was done,” said Silva as Illumi went into his work area. “Easy job.”

“I don’t know why you sent me on such an easy task that could’ve been done by Milluki,” Illumi said while watching one of the big screens. 

“You know the reason,” said Silva while he continued to type a message to a future buyer. “It’s your job to watch our heir. You’ve lost sight of him and that’s your fault.”

“The needle is still in his head. He won’t try to attack anyone he could not win.” Illumi decided to take a seat. He knew this talk would be a long one given what happened at dinner the many, many nights before. 

“That doesn’t mean you should lose track of him. If he were to die, then our lineage would end.” Silva refused to look at his son. He was too proud to look at someone who would neglect not one but two of his appointed jobs. 

“I understand Father.”

There was a tension-filled pause before Silva said “you shouldn’t have taken that girl. She wasn’t even remotely ready to join the family.”

“You gave me a list of people you recommended while you were in York New last September. I chose from that list.” 

“I gave you that list in accordance that you’d wait until they could handle being a Zoldyck. It was not a list of pretty girls to manipulate until you got your way.”

“Y/N was not an assassin. There would have been no other way for her to actually learn anything. Would you rather I waited indefinitely?”

Anger spiked in the room. Aura was pounding out of Silva. “There were many other options that already knew Nen and some properties of our training. You picked one of the weaker ones. Now you have to live with your consequences.”

“I see,” said Illumi. It was an unfair trade. He knew that he wouldn’t inherit any of the estate without some sort of understanding with Killua. It is a sick bargain for living at home. He had no say in his life as long as his father was in charge. “Why did you put her on the list if you didn’t think she would be a good addition to the family?”

Silva finally sat back in his chair. He still did not look at his eldest son. “It was a job before the Phantom Troupe. You became distracted from the target. You were watching her, yet you didn’t even know her name. We almost missed the deal.”

Illumi remembered this trip vividly. Killua was still home at the time, and this was before he became a Hunter. It was a job that paid for two Zoldycks. Kill refused to go even though Dad asked him many times to come, Grandpa was busy with business, Kalluto was still in his training, and Milluki refused to come out of his room. He, out of desperation, took Ilumi as backup. 

He couldn’t remember what distracted him. It was only for a moment. It was very rare that he ever was distracted by anything or anyone. Since he messed up the mission, he had to face consequences. Months in the chamber while Father disciplined for my negligence was enough of a punishment for it to never happen again. 

“I was distracted by her?” Illumi said while tilting his head as if to question the statement. 

“Y/N was walking down the street. It only took a second yet you never looked at a girl before or after that time,” Silva said with confidence. “At least enough that it almost cost us millions.” 

Illumi nodded. His memory still failed him about the timeline. It was a very strange coincidence that he would pick her so many years later. He was only a teenager back when that mission happened. 

“I had the same reaction with your Mother. She was another assassin from another family. I was the first in the line to choose who I would marry. I didn’t realize I chose her until we were on a mission many many years ago.” Silva had many happy memories of life before his children and before the obligation fell truly onto him. “Unlike Killua, you have the option of choosing from a wide list or no list at all. Yet you chose her. It will be a challenge, but if it becomes too much, you must let her go.”

Illumi nodded his head. There were very few lessons his father taught him. Most of them he had to learn on his own due to being the eldest. He knew what was being said. He was taking on a liability that would be easily dropped if needed; however, it should not be needed. That was all the advice his father would give him. 

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

“You’re back so soon,” I said as Illumi walked through the door. Canary had said it would be a lot longer before he would arrive. It was to be a long mission. I had decided to start reading the books to finally understand some of the history beyond what Illumi would tell me. 

Illumi didn’t say much as he threw a backpack next to me. He seemed a lot more tired than when he left. Strange. “You have an issue that needs to be dealt with,” he said while taking a seat on the bed. 

“I have an issue?” I said while looking through the backpack. Inside were a bunch of my belongings. Shirts, pants, and some other miscellaneous items. One item caught my attention. Illumi was allowing me to use my phone. 

“Why are you giving me my phone back?” I ask while picking it up. It was charged to full battery power. He must’ve had it since I got here. On the phone, there were over 50 messages left by my friends and family about my departure. At this point, I’d been gone for 3 weeks. It wouldn’t have surprised me if there was police looking for me. 

“Machi has called you many times,” he said. I didn’t understand why that was such a problem as she was one of my best friends. In fact, she was one of the people I went out with the night I disappeared. 

“Why is that a problem?” 

Illumi took a deep sigh. “You really are naive.” I looked back at my phone. Most of the messages were from Machi. I looked at a few of them. None of them were any different than our normal texts except they started to get more and more confusing as they went along. 

I decided to send her a quick message to make say that I was fine. The response was instant. It was a time to meet and discuss where I’d been for the entire time. The phone started ringing as she was calling me. 

“Don’t pick up.” 

“Why?” I ask while hovering over the talk button. It's been so long since I heard her voice that it made me a little homesick. 

Illumi sighed again while finally lying back onto the bed. It was a weird sight as I’d not seen him sleep throughout the time that I’d been here. I’d just assumed that he didn’t sleep. He was silent all over again. It was like he was toying with whether or not to tell me why this was so important. “Answer it. Tell her that you’ll meet up for a chat within the week. Say nothing more. We’ve got a lot of work to do. Plus I need to make sure that no one shows up here unannounced.” 

The phone buzzed in my hand over and over again. “So you’re saying I’ll get to see her again?” 

“Yes,” he said. “Say you’re on a business trip that came up suddenly and you can’t talk long.” 

My confusion must’ve been palpable. Why would Illumi suddenly want to let me see my friends? Why would he be okay with all of this? Doesn’t he think I’d run? 

I’m guessing he’s not too worried about my friends. What would Machi do anyways? She couldn’t out match any of the Zoldycks. It must be some other reasoning. I looked up to see that Illumi was waiting for me to take the call. 

I answered. There was yelling on the other end. Accusations of me being dead or worse. Little did she know. I was able to meet up for a time within the next week. It was nice to hear her once again. I promised we’d catch up as soon as I landed in York New. 

The phone call ended with a “you better” and I hung up. Once the call was done, I put it to the side. I had more pressing matters than to inform anyone else of my location. I decided to go back to my studying. A few pages in and I noticed that Illumi was fast asleep. He looked much calmer while sleeping. It was like a whole other side to him. ‘Must’ve been a long mission,’ I thought while going back to my book.

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[itsclydebitches]

(1/?) I'm curious as to your thoughts: was there a good way to write Ironwood as CRWBY intended him, 'fundamentally good person shows signs of instability and a worrying commitment to the idea that everyone should be willing to make a sacrifice as long as he is, takes this to unacceptable extremes when a great sacrifice is called for'? I've been reading all these posts that actually make it seem like a coherent character arc, and I don't consider myself a 'bootlicker' or someone who

Always happy to explain my thoughts! Though Ironwood’s situation is incredibly complicated and I’m tired as hell right now, so apologies if this attempt at working through things is more than a little messy… 

You’re right that Salem herself fundamentally changes the heart of the “well-meaning but ultimately misguided general” setup. Meaning, normally when we see a character like Ironwood, someone military-minded and driven by pragmatism, whoever it is they’re fighting against is us. It’s a war against other humans, or at least another intelligent (and sympathetic) form of life. Ironwood’s attempted archetype here relies heavily on the assumption that he’s taking things too far when there are better, more peaceful options open to him. No, general, don’t nuke all those people even though we’re at war with them because they’re still people. No, general, don’t blow up the alien ship even though you perceive them as a threat because they feel just like we do and I, the protagonist, believe that I can make peace with them. Though RWBY doesn’t have quite that same conflict—everyone agrees that Salem needs to go—it’s nevertheless worth acknowledging that his archetype is built on a history of unsympathetic characters… who are unsympathetic because they’re choosing to harm others for needless reasons. The hardened military general is an antagonist because he takes the violent route either due to greed or a lust for power. He makes sacrifices not because they are truly necessary, but because they’re easier or better for him. He believes that this violence/sacrifice is the only answer when the audience can clearly see another, better route. Think characters like Miles Quaritch from Avatar whose goal is, ultimately, to force a peaceful people out of their home/outright kill them in order to gain access to a natural resource on their world. Even if there is, broadly speaking, a “good” reason for doing this (humanity needs that resource to solve their energy crisis) there’s no confusion that his reasons are far from justified and that he’s taken things way too far. Not only because gaining resources is, you know, not a reason to kill people, but also because Jake Sully, our hero, provides him with alternative routes that he then rejects. These people are peaceful. We can negotiate with them… but Quaritch says no. 

So this is, broadly speaking, the archetype Ironwood and Team RWBY are thrust into. He’s the general supposedly taking things too far and they’re the heroes standing in his way. Problem is, RWBY’s enemy isn’t a sympathetic, potential victim. The grimm are literally mindless beasts and Salem is a classic Big Bad. She might have a tragic backstory now, but that hasn’t impacted how we read her as a threat. She isn’t another group of humans we should be making peace with. She’s not an alien race who we just have to extend a hand to. Defeating her—in a literal way—is thus far the only possible route and that undermines the archetype Rooster Teeth wants to chuck Ironwood into. He can’t be the cold-hearted military man choosing violence over peace when peace is simply not an option.

So we have a setup where every single one of Ironwood’s decisions is automatically both sane and justified because there is an immortal grimm queen trying to kill them. And she cannot be reasoned with. Extra security? No duh you want that. Suspicious of others? No shit Beacon fell precisely because it was infiltrated. Making sacrifices? What else is there to do except roll over and let Salem win? The options presented to him were “make sacrifice” or “everyone absolutely dies” so no, in this case the sacrifice is not deemed “unnecessary” and therefore something that we can criticize him for. Ironwood is not fighting a powerful but also potentially sympathetic enemy, inviting a perspective that his actions may be too severe in the face of that threat. Salem isn’t a Darth Vader who is going to turn back to the light when she sees her child. She isn’t a Sauron with a convenient Achille’s heel (as of yet anyway) thereby inviting an easy solution that doesn’t risk too many lives. The grimm are not the Klingons who, if you just take the time to know their culture, you can find common ground with. They and Salem are more akin to the Borg: a relentless, unreachable, immortal force that seeks only to destroy everything. She is RWBY’s devil and thus by default any question along the lines of, “But should Ironwood really have..?” is answered with an emphatic “Yes.” Because the only other option is total annihilation for the entire world, not just the one city you’re worried about. RWBY’s villain is such a massive, unarguable threat that the setup doesn’t allow debate in regards to what’s going “too far.” By having Team RWBY and Oscar parrot those views from other stories they just come off as sounding naive, foolish, and arrogant. Salem is not an enemy that you just need to try really hard to beat in battle. She is currently immortal. She is not someone you just need to talk down. She will annihilate you and laugh while doing it. “Unnecessary sacrifice” only exists in a world where you have a chance of taking another route with success. RWBY hasn’t provided that route yet. 

Thus, most military archetypes don’t have to face the level of threat that Ironwood does. In fact, their status as antagonists largely relies on the belief that the threat isn’t severe enough to warrant whatever horrific order they’re giving. Rooster Teeth has written a character based on tropes that do not work within the scenario they’ve set up… and a good chunk of the fandom aren’t critical enough viewers to see the disconnect. They just watch that collection of tropes and characteristics and fill in the blank based on what they know from the rest of popular culture. Like a really messed up Mad Lib. “Ah! I recognize this character! He’s a military man. He’s strict at times. He’s taking control of a situation and achieving that with an army. This is all a Bad Thing and I know that because I’ve seen it a thousand times before in a thousand different stories. The powerful military man is the antagonist and the heroes are the ones who fight for the marginalized!” And thus the viewer is encouraged to prioritize that assumed reading over the actual context of this particular story. Few are willing to admit that “Leaving marginalized people behind because otherwise we will all be slaughtered” is not the same situation as something like “Outright attacking a marginalized people because I want something from them. Or abandoning them because I just don’t care.” They see the basic, surface characteristics and think they know the answer to this story. Team RWBY = good and Ironwood = bad. 

That’s only the tip of the problem though. It’s a big problem, but literally every step of the way Rooster Teeth would need to change things if they actually wanted to give Ironwood this arc in a way that made any sense: 

They would need to change how they portray Mantle going all the way back to Volume 4 because we knew straight out of the Fall that Mantle has had a lot of problems for a very long time. That’s not all on Ironwood—it’s not possible for it all to be on Ironwood—and thus it’s neither correct nor fair to paint Mantle’s dystopian-like state as his doing, as we saw at the beginning of Volume 7. 

They would need to convince us that Ironwood is actually paranoid/being overly cautious, rather than what we actually have which is… completely logical safety measures against everything that has done them in up until now. Everything Ironwood implements is in direct response to something that killed people or felled a school. 

The story would need to give Ironwood better solutions that he then rejects. Obviously this is crucial for the leaving Mantle situation. As I’ve said numerous times before, you can’t paint Ironwood as a horrific person for following the only plan they had. “Stay to die” is not a plan. If they wanted him to read as in the wrong for leaving, Team RWBY needed to give him a good reason to stay, one that doesn’t automatically equal everyone dying, especially when Ironwood’s own solution is “save at least some.” However, this also needed to happen in regards to Amity. The fandom keeps pointing out that Ironwood took resources from Mantle, painting it as this cruel and awful thing… without acknowledging the necessity of that. Or that our heroes likewise demanded that he finish. Ruby is equally responsible for taking those resources. Again, if they want to paint Ironwood as unhinged and cruel in his decision, they need to provide him with alternatives: “Hey, general! Why don’t we just use these other resources instead?” “No. They must come from Mantle.” or “Hey, general! We’re just going to let you know that finishing Amity is fundamentally useless because you can’t defeat Salem with a giant army. Maybe stop taking resources now.” “No. I don’t believe you. I’m going to forge ahead with my own plans, ignoring this new information.” Neither of these things happened. We weren’t told that there was another way to build Amity and Ironwood wasn’t told that his plan was flawed… making his decision both necessary and justified, given what he knew. To my mind, Team RWBY is far more responsible for Mantle’s state since they encouraged that drain on the resources while knowing the use of those resources wouldn’t achieve what Ironwood assumed it would. Which, while failing to paint them as heroic, likewise undermines Ironwood’s supposed villainy. Why do we hate him for this again…. when Ruby is doing the exact same thing…? 

They would need to have established, all the way back in Volume 2 and onward, a personality that allows for him to go to certain extremes, such as shooting Oscar. I don’t have the energy to dive into this one in great detail right now, but suffice to say the fandom has decided to horrendously miss-characterize Ironwood in an effort to justify an illogical action based on what we know about him. I’ve seen the “He once said he would shoot Qrow!” so often I’m literally astounded by the reach there, but I’m also seeing a lot of “Ironwood has never shown any sympathy towards children!” Which… okay. The absence of interaction is not proof of hatred. Meaning, having watched seven volumes in which Ironwood doesn’t interact with kids only tells us we don’t know how he feels about kids, not that he obviously despises them. A lack of scenes wherein Ironwood expresses his adoration for everyone under the age of twenty is not evidence for dislike, nor more than making a claim like, “Well Ruby obviously hates pears” would be. Why would she hate pears? Because we’ve never once, ever, heard her say that she likes them. She’s never spoken positively about them. Never stood up for them! So clearly they’re her least favorite food. Sound ridiculous? Same situation here. To say nothing of the fact that we do see Ironwood interacting positively with kids, if we define “kids” as “characters significantly younger than him.” We watched him desperately protect large groups of students at Beacon. Stand up for Weiss at the party despite how much that threatened his political situation with Jacques (as seen in Volume 7). Send Yang an expensive new arm purely because he knows what it’s like to lose a limb. The narrative has gone out of its way to demonstrate how kind and compassionate Ironwood is, all of which would need to be changed—if not outright erased—to give us someone capable of shooting Oscar like that. 

The fact that the fandom chooses to ignore characterization doesn’t mean it’s not there and that characterization, at its core, fundamentally hinders the “military man goes off the deep end” archetype. Because Ironwood is nothing like his parallels in popular culture. His situation is not one that he can resolve peacefully. He was not given better options that he then rejected. He has never been a cold, manipulative, cruel person. Honestly, if they wanted to write this arc then they needed someone other than James Ironwood living in the world of RWBY. We’d need a different kind of war and a different character introduced all those volumes ago. Because as it is, the story Rooster Teeth wanted to tell simply isn’t a story fit for the Ironwood and the Remnant they created. 

[masterofmagnetism]

The Battle of Stark Tower [backdated]

WHO: @burdenedxtelepath, @apoisontouch, @roi--des--voleurs, and Erik WHEN: Day 2 of the Seige of New York WHERE: See title. WHAT: Some humans are, unsurprisingly, not very happy about Magneto’s seige.  Some of those humans are, more surprisingly, apparently somewhat prepared for a war against mutants and show up to try and take Stark Tower back.   In which Erik needs some help from the three people he very carefully did not include in the plan, the Phoenix briefly becomes a time-share, Remy gets to rain beans down upon unsuspecting humans, Rogue gets to fly, and Charles is very done with his not-husband. WORD COUNT: 7.7k TWs: Murder mentioned several times.  Gunshot wound.  Uhh... alligators, fire (metaphorical), sort-of brief possession by the world’s most annoying bird.  Can’t think of anything else but hmu if you need a tw added!

ERIK: He'd miscalculated.

Erik hadn't been naive enough to think that his plan was foolproof--far from it. He had planned for things to go wrong every step of the way, had made contingency upon contingency for the inevitable deviations from the plan that were bound to come with an operation of this scale. Scott and Jean had pored over plans with him, pointed out holes and gaps from their own experience that they then patched up as best they could.

Things were never going to go perfectly, but this was wrong in a way that had gone unanticipated. He'd prepared extensively for the possibility of a military or law enforcement response, knowing all too well the stance of the United States regarding negotiating with terrorists.

This wasn't the military, and was somehow all the more formidable for it. They were organized civilians, and judging by their behavior, they'd been preparing to face off against mutants for a long while, had done their research and responded far more nimbly than the slow engine of government was apt to do. And Erik hadn't planned for it. Still worse than that was the fact that both Jean and Scott were gone, out in the streets of New York helping the mutants who hadn't come to Stark Tower.

A handful of the others were here, but most had gone out to run their own errands since the day had, until now, been relatively quiet

And for those that were left, the battle was not going well in their favor. Some weren't at full power after the exertion of the last few days, and some were simply overwhelmed by sheer numbers, because by g-d, the civilians here amounted to a small army that knew too much about how to adapt around their mutations. Metal weapons were few and far between, and Erik was spreading his attention thin trying to keep shields up around the others and the doors to the Tower.

He would not lose anyone today if he had anything to say about it.

His attention was spread thinner by the Phoenix that was clawing beneath his skin.  I can help, let us help, let us show them what you can do.

It was tempting--it could annihilate the whole crowd in seconds, no doubt, if necessary.  He'd seen what Jean could do, when she let it take over, the indiscriminate damage she could unleash--and she was used to having it with her. Erik was not, had an entirely different power set, and he was not arrogant enough to believe he could guess what would happen and control it with any reliability. He couldn't promise that he'd be able to reel it back in, or keep safe the mutants that were fighting alongside him.

So he was holding back, and the humans were taking advantage.

They were losing, and Erik prayed silently as he dragged a lightpole down to sweep through a few of the humans that the others, would see the news and make it back. The alternatives would be messy, one way or the other.

ROGUE: There was no part of Rogue that could ignore what was happening. No matter how much she had fought against it when the idea had slipped from Erik’s drunken lips… she couldn’t ignore it. Couldn’t look away. Her friends, her family, was involved in a war that would shape the face of their history — and their future. And fear had kept her in the audience, kept her eyes on the TV screen as the coverage of what was happening around Stark Tower, where Erik was held up now.

She had told him as much, all the questions she had asked, all the digging she had done, it had been because she had been afraid — and she had thought that more information would have helped. Information only brought her so much peace, no matter how it was dressed up, no matter what words were spoken, this was war. And people she cared about were going to get hurt. It wasn’t a matter of if — but when.

And when — that was now.

The scene on the TV had changed and Rogue watched in horror as Erik fought back against the crowd. They were well equipped to deal with him — the TV didn’t capture the familiar gleam of metal that Erik could easily manipulate. Still, if he wanted to end this. He could. In an instant. There were a good many things around him that he could have used to kill the crowd that was coming against him, but he was… he was holding back.

But holding back meant he might lose — holding back put him in danger. And that hadn’t occurred to Rogue to worry about his safety. She had been wrapped up in thinking about everyone else because Erik… he had lived through so much. It didn’t occur to her he might not live through this.

Erik Lehnsherr needed help. Even if he wouldn’t ask for it conventionally, he needed it — he needed them.

Rogue collected the only two people that she knew that hadn’t been directly involved in the siege. Remy, who had been with her during all her worrying up until the news even, and the Professor, who she hadn’t seen any images of at the tower, so she had assumed that he hadn’t been involved in the initiation of this. She didn’t claim to know his reasons and she didn’t press for them — the Professor had a right to his privacy, just as Rogue kept to her own as well. But for this, it seemed, they would have to be a team. Not quite the caliber of the X-Men, but between the three of them?

They could handle this crowd.

Rogue was pulling off her gloves, glancing over at Remy before nodding her head. “Remember when we were on our way out this mornin’ and I told ya t’ grab a few can of beans?” Rogue tipped her head to the side and motioned to the crowd with her head. “Whatcha think about givin’ ‘em a nice fire show?” Rogue cracked her knuckles and then stretched her fingers. “Mutant and proud…” Rogue said to herself, her voice a murmur before she shifted her gaze to Charles. “Professor, ready?” Running into the crowd from the back didn’t have the finesse that she was sure everyone would have preferred. But she was certain it would be effective and quick. And both of those things were needed.

REMY: Out of all the ways Remy could have possibly spent his day, fighting side by side with Rogue was a good way to do it. But fighting to help Erik was definitely not high on his list. Yet the way things were going this time, it was not only about helping Erik. It was about all of them needing to fight for each other. He had known things were going to come to a head sooner or later, and now the dam had finally burst. As much as Remy wanted to blame Erik, things like this seemed to be unavoidable for mutants, and it seemed there was nothing left to do but fight.

The sight of Erik fighting against the crowd of humans was surprisingly hard to watch. Did that mean Remy actually cared if something happened to him? Or was he just hoping to fight Erik again himself? Whatever his reasoning, when Rogue implored him to go with her, there was no way he could refuse. Not only because he would not let her down, but because even if Erik was currently fighting alone, eventually they would all be fighting for their lives. Better to face the battle head on, and maybe they might have a chance.

"Mon Dieu," Remy muttered as they stood watching the crowd. It was not a pretty sight, but he liked their odds. Not only were he and Rogue a great team, but they had the Professor with them as well. When Rogue asked him about the beans, he gave an "ahh" of realization. "An' here I thought you were jus' hopin' I'd whip up a snack wit' 'em! Didn't know I'd be feedin' de whole crowd!" Carrying cans of beans was not exactly the easiest way to carry ammo--Remy much preferred his cards to the heavy cans currently weighing down the pockets of his trenchcoat--but he agreed that they sure packed a punch when he charged them. Taking one out, he flipped it over and grinned. "Havin' beans always does clear a room, after all!"

PROFESSOR X: He didn't know what was worst: flying or being teleported by Kurt. Either way, he was nauseous by journey's end and had to take a knee in the midst of chaos just to collect himself.

This wasn't his wheelhouse - not since Cuba - yet it had been Kitty's probing and Rogue's plea that forced him to leave the kids behind. Granted Rogue had been right. Watching Erik seemingly struggle just to stay above water was hard to watch. Charles couldn't explain it but he felt Erik's peril. He was sweating and Erik NEVER sweated. Furthermore he had the bird so it baffled Charles as to why a few civilians ( though well organized ) were handling his man friend.

And make no mistake: Charles was furious. This was one of the single most reckless, ballsy things Magneto had ever done. Erik had been right to leave him out of the plan, but the die had been cast. There was no turning back now. They would either rise to the occasion together as mutants or die trying. HIS FAMILY WAS NOT DYING TODAY.

Pushing himself from one knee, he stood, giving Remy and Rogue a nod.

"I---of course. I'm splendid." He was not splendid. In fact, he was downright terrified but his legs would give way at some point so he had to make the most of right now. After shooting a very surprised Erik a scathing look, a hand came up, freezing special bullets in place that just narrowly missed Erik. These people were smart, and seemed determined to cut off the head of this operation but underestimating Erik's protection was going to prove costly. They'd see soon enough though.

"Dear. You should duck."

《 I could literally strangle you right now Erik! How do you not plan for angry civilians?? 》

ERIK: Erik wasn't used to holding back. He was infamous for being both a powerful and ruthless opponent, after all, and was well used to channeling anger and pain into lashing out at his enemies with all the force he could muster.

Trying to fight an enemy so apparently capable without pushing like that was a whole different beast, a war without and within that he wasn't used to dealing with. The humans seemed to pick up on it, too, growing bolder with each passing minute.

He couldn't risk collapsing the negotiations by letting the Phoenix loose and taking out entire city blocks--he would not risk the future of their people for this.

For himself.

But then there was a commotion, near the back of the crowd, and Erik felt a dual swell of relief and crushing concern. Anna and Remy were here--backup was here, good backup. The two of them were, he would reluctantly admit, a formidable pair together in battle, incredibly powerful in their own rights.

And they'd brought Charles. Charles, who hadn't fought in person since Cuba. Charles, who didn't want this war in the first place, who was loathe to use his powers against humans in anything but the most dire of straits. Charles, who was not at full capacity if he was on his meds, as he clearly was.

Fucking hell.

Erik nodded at Anna and Remy across the battlefield, the closest to thanks he could offer at the moment, and dragged a few pieces of scrap Remy's way to charge up if and when he ran out of his own ammunition.

Attention split, he almost missed the bullets headed his way before they froze in the air in front of him--evidently Charles had gotten a proper grip on his telekinesis. He ducked obligingly, without hesitation.

<< I did! Where do you think the kids are? >> he snapped, though the concern was more palpable than the irritation. << I didn't anticipate a trained militia apparently more competent than their real military. >>

He yanked one of the metal sheets on the outside of the building down, reshaping it to a battering ram to knock down a line of men between him and where the others stood near the back of the crowd.

<< Is this really the time to be chastising me? Move left, >> he warned, sending another projectile roaring past the others.

ROGUE: She couldn’t remember a time where they had all worked together — Remy and Erik were always at each other’s throats and there had always been tension between the Professor and Erik. And Rogue and Erik? (There were things between them that she’d rather not think about.) They all had history here. Baggage. But they were here and they were fighting. And hopefully, that would be enough to pull this out.

Glancing at Remy when he started in on his jokes, Rogue shook her head but offered him a smirk. “If ya get any of that in my hair, sugar, we’re gonna have some real strong words when all this is said and done.” The dream was surviving this so she could have a firm conversation about her hair over celebratory drinks. Shifting her gaze, she looked at Erik and nodded in return. The protesters hadn’t noticed them approaching from the back yet — which gave them the upper hand for a moment at least. (The art of a surprise attack.)

Erik was strategically moving metal, but the humans hadn’t seemed to notice yet. (They would once it was charged up from behind.) Rogue looked at Erik from across the crowd and started moving her hands in a circle, hoping that he’d understand she wanted him to create a metal barrier around the humans. She had no intention of killing any of them, but if they could knock them out or transport them out by trapping them inside a metal dome, they could end this quickly. They might have been outnumbered, but they were far from outmatched. “Ya ever herd animals, Remy? Linin’ them up might do us some real good.”

REMY: Even if he could not shake the feeling that it was strange to be on the same side as Erik, the more pressing issue was that the humans were out to get them--all of them--and if they were going to have any hope of surviving this, they needed to work together. Working with Rogue was no problem. Working with the Professor was nothing short of an honor. Working with Erik...well, Remy had had to work with people he had not particularly liked before to get things done. And for all his issues with Erik, he was still a mutant. And when it came to mutants against humans, Remy would always stand with his fellows, no matter what.

He returned Rogue's smirk, glad they could have at least a little levity in this situation. "Chere, if I get any o' dat in my hair, we gon' have some strong words!" It had been her idea to bring the beans, after all. "Believe me, I definitely would rather get chewed out by you!" But there was nothing for it. They needed to fight off this angry mob first. He saw that Erik had given them a nod, and then sent some small pieces of metal towards them. No, towards Remy. He blinked; was that...an offering? Hmm, maybe there was some hope for Erik after all. Remy definitely appreciated it. The beans would not last long, and while he had cards, the metal would make an even more pronounced bang. Which, if they were trying to get the humans to back off, would come in handy.

"Merci, homme," he said quietly, even though Erik was too far away. Turning to Rogue, he saw that she was gesturing towards Erik. Remy was not entirely sure of her intention at first, but when she asked him about herding animals, things became clearer. "But o' course, mon amour! I practiced herdin' gators for kicks back in de day. Dis'll be a piece o' cake!" Taking the can of beans, he gave it a charge. The crowd had so far not noticed their approach, which meant it was up to Remy to make their presence known. And he was damn good at making an entrance.

"Bonjour, mes amis! T'ink it's time we break up dis li'l party, hein?" With that, he threw the can off to the side of the crowd, getting them to scatter in the other direction. Quickly, Remy charged another can and let it fly in the opposite direction, making the crowd push together more, putting them in position for whatever Rogue and Erik were concocting.

PROFESSOR X: Everyone's thoughts were filtering in and out of his head, but he forced himself to ignore the nonsense from the crowd in favor of keeping tabs on Erik. From this distance, he had to rely on Erik's willingness to let him inside because they were separated by a massive, rowdy crowd that had probably been training for months for a moment like this. Maybe even longer and he had a feeling a certain Bugle journalist was partly responsible with all of his inspiring takes.

That aside, he watched as Erik ducked before he released, allowing the bullets to hit another target rather than the intended. In front of him, Remy and Rogue were cooking up something, but he wasn't even going to ask about those beans. Knowing what Remy could do, the thought of civilians being pelted with cans of beans was just too amusing. Probably not the best time to be having a laugh but... hell, it could very well be his last laugh if things didn't swing their way soon.

He watched as Erik sent more pieces of scrap their way, eyes rolling as the chess master belted out more excuses.

《 Of course not darling. Because the idea of civilians coming together in trained, military fashion is just not one of those things people like us plan for. 》

Was he being sarcastic? Was he serious? One would never know. At Erik's direction, he side-stepped left, likely avoiding his own fatal incident this time.

《 My love, this is the perfect time to be chastising you. Remy and Rogue got this. Now... care to explain why you are holding back so much? This isn't like you... What am I missing here---ERIK MOVE! 》

"Rogue! Remy! He's been hit!"

《 ERIK! ERIK! 》

"Rogue, I'm going to cause some confusion among the people, but I won't be able to move my body until it's done. I have to get to Erik. I think something's up with the bird. He's going to get himself killed if he doesn't use it more. I can feel him stretching his power but I can't figure out what else he's shielding. If it's not us then who?"

ERIK: Rogue was gesturing at him, and Erik knew immediately what she was suggesting from just a few flicks of her hand.  ( They'd been a good team, once, and apparently that much hadn't changed. ) Round them up, block out reinforcements from coming in, make them vulnerable like fish in a barrel.

The plan was clear enough.  The practice would be a bit trickier, because this wasn't a showdown between the Brotherhood and a little band of humans, or even against the X-Men. Normally, he'd be able to pinpoint the gaps and fill them in.

It was harder when practically the whole fucking field was a gap in defense.

<< Yes, darling, I see now that it was something of an oversight.  Thank you for pointing it out, >> he snapped mentally--it was a valid criticism, to be fair, given that both of their jobs centered around leading a group of civilian mutants into various battles.

The mutants inside the tower, and the small handful that had dared to come out with him, weren't X-Men, weren't Brotherhood.  They were scared civilians who'd come here in preparation for the next step, and it was one thing to throw kids into battle who'd signed up for it.  This was another thing entirely, and he could not, would not, allow any humans to breach the building to those inside.

Protect the building. Protect the kids out here with him. Protect Remy and Rogue and Charles, who should not be here, so that they have a chance to get the upper hand. Fight back.  Start putting together a barrier.  Don't destroy the negotiation progress by destroying a city block.

<< I'm not holding back, I've just got a lot to handle at the mo-- >>

He could do it, was beginning to drag cars and lightpoles down to wrap around the edges of the crowd, but something had to give.

That something turned out to be personal defense.  Something hit his side, sent sparks of pain derailing his thoughts for a moment, and Erik hissed out between his teeth.  The metal stopped moving.

Erik snarled at the men in front of him, sending them flying backwards with a wave of his hand.

He could stop the bleeding, if he wanted to, but that’d mean something else had to give and there were people he needed to protect.  It was an easy choice.

<< I’m fine. >>

He’d be fine.  He’d had worse.  He hadn’t even looked at it yet, could feel the blood starting to soak through his shirt, but he didn’t spare it a glance.  Ignore it.  Focus on the plan.  The metal started wrapping around the edges of the crowd again, Erik grabbing at whatever he could to start herding them together for the others to deal with.

ROGUE: “No, sugar. I’ll be comin’ at ya — any beans in my hair and it’ll be because of ya screwin’ up the aim!” She should have stopped trash talking in the middle of a fight, but it was the only rewarding thing about the violence they were in the middle of. The only thing that was keeping Rogue... Rogue. Or maybe, it brought her a bit closer to Anna Marie. It seemed, for now, that they were all getting along. Erik was offering Remy more ammunition, Charles wasnt speaking much but it was clear he was doing something — so she assumed he was talking to Erik. They were working. Together. It was a shame that it had taken a war for them to open their eyes to each other.

Course, all the yelling drew attention, and a few of the protesters noticed Rogue just behind them. They turned towards her and Rogue offered them her most charming smile. But she didn’t give them a chance to speak — she brought up her elbow and caught one in the face before using his body to take down his friends. “Ya comparin’ cattle to gators?” Rogue asked, shooting Remy a concerned look before shaking her head. “I’m sure these guys would bite ya... but cattle takes more finesse than gators, sugar.” She was joking... mostly. But there was a look in her eye that warned him to be a little more careful than he normally would be. If they could overwhelm Erik... then they needed to be vigilant themselves.

The Professor started yelling and Rogue glanced in his direction, listening to his instructions as she put a hand on her own shoulder, rotating the cuff as more protesters started towards her. It had been too long since she had been in a fight of this magnitude. “I hear ya, Professor,” Rogue replied with a short nod before tossing another protestor and heading towards him. He had given a lot up to these people — talking too loudly about his mobility... hopefully he knew what he was doing.

“I can get ya t’ him. No problem,” Rogue confirmed. No one in this group knew about her new skills — acquired from when she had killed Jean, but she figured now was as good a time as any for them to find out that her skill set had expanded. (Permanently, it has seemed.)  “As long as ya don’t mind getting carried by a girl,” Rogue said, but the smile on her face suggested that she knew that he wouldn’t mind — they had far more important things to worry about than appearances like that. “And I got a man who is very good at distractin’,” she said, looking at Remy. “I’m ready, just say when.”

REMY: At the idea that there would be anything wrong with his aim, Remy made a face. "My aim...screwed up? You wound me, chere!" Obviously he would have to pick a better time to be insulted, because they were still facing off with the crowd, who were still very agitated. Having beans exploding over them probably had not improved their mood any, but that was what they got for picking a fight in the first place. Not that he would not have picked a fight with Erik, of course, but it would have been over differences of opinion, not the outright hatred the protesters were showing. So getting covered in beans was the least Remy could offer to give them some comeuppance.

He could not keep from grinning as Rogue took down the protester who came at her, but Remy could not grin for long since the protesters were coming at him too. "Gators are a hell o' a lot harder t' corral dan cattle! Dose cowboys t'ink dey're hot stuff, but let's see how dey fare against a gator!" Now she was implying he needed finesse? Remy gave her an incredulous look. "You jus' tryin' t' hit me from all sides today? Like havin' dese guys do de same ain't enough!" That they were. No sooner had Remy finished his quip than one of the protesters took a swing at him, which he only just managed to duck. Alright, clearly Rogue had a point. Time to focus. Taking out his bo staff, he quickly extended it and used to crack the man across the jaw. "Sorry homme. I came t' kick ass an' t'row beans, an' I'm all outta beans!"

That was not entirely a joke. He had thrown the cans of beans, so he was actually grateful for the supply of ammunition Erik had sent his way. Snatching up some of the metal scraps, Remy was about to charge one up when he heard the Professor's shout. His own urge to protect Erik was not quite so strong, but he was still there to help him. Rogue was already preparing to assist the Professor, and while Remy did not doubt she would be able to get him to Erik, there were still a hell of a lot of protesters in their way. And when she mentioned "carrying," Remy raised an eyebro, not sure what she meant. "You gon' carry de Professeur on your back, chere?" He could certainly distract, and he smirked at her compliment. Giving the metal in his hand a charge at last, he said, "Un gran distraction comin' righ' up!" Then he flung the charged metal at some more oncoming protesters, knocking them back across the street and making as best a path as possible for Rogue and the Professor to pass through.

PROFESSOR X: 'I'm FINE.' As if THAT was going to be enough to stop the telepath's rapidly beating heart. If the four of them weren't careful, one distraction and a carefully timed hit could spell the end for any one of them, especially since the team was holding back. ( Not that he told them to, but he couldn't help but feel secretly pleased by this. )

《 You're not FINE! 》

Charles didn't mean to snap, but panic was building in his chest as the crowd grew ever more aggressive. Those beans of Remy's had pissed them off and now that the citizens knew they were being flanked, many had turned their attention on them now.

He closed his eyes, his subconscious slipping into several heads at once. Remy could handle this on his own, but a little more confusion couldn't hurt. Some of the people began to look dazed and instead of attacking Rogue or Remy, some of them began attacking one another. In turn, that led to several of the organized group trying to stop the in-fighting among them. The same chaos was happening on Erik's end too, but this wasn't likely to last long. These humans had made plans to take out the head of this operation not to mention Charles had been careless about his mobility. He didn't hear anyone thinking anything about the slip, but that didn't mean he could afford to let his guard down any.

《 I'm coming to you. And do not argue. 》

Even though the crowd was ever more unsettling, Charles didn't appear affected at all. And he wouldn't. Because he knew Remy and Rogue had his back and he had theirs. No matter what it took, this was one mission they would see to the end. Their futures depended upon it.

Looking to the splitting image of another woman he held dear to his heart, he watched as Rogue rotated her cuff. The self conscious, sulky Charles in him didn't know how he felt about being carried. No doubt Raven would get a kick out of it if she knew, but this was not the time to sulk over trivial matters.

"You're not just any girl though," he grinned. "Besides, I always dreamed of being carried off into the sunset by a beautiful, strong woman... er don't hit me Remy. I couldn't resist."

Cos he was a big flirt. Sue him.

His momentary fun ended when he felt the thoughts from the crowd grow ever more sinister. These guys were really prepared to kill, but he'd worry about that later. As soon as Remy charged up his piece, he gave Rogue the signal.

《 Thanks Remy. Erik, send more scrap. We're on the move! 》

ERIK: Don't argue.  As if he had the time.  Erik didn't bother trying to respond to the telepath's words, focusing instead on the battlefield.  There seemed to be some confusion blossoming in the crowd over by the others, no doubt thanks to Charles, and the three of them seemed to be forming some sort of plan of their own.  Of course--they were X-Men.  Thinking on their feet was the modus operandi, as far as Erik had ever been able to tell--vague plans, adjusted on a whim.

Increasingly, that was looking like the better option than Erik’s brand of planning.

Take it as it comes. Figure out what's needed.  The others seemed to be keeping themselves safe enough, so Erik turned some more of his focus to Rogue's plan, dragging lightpoles and cars from further up the street down to form a barricade at the edges of the crowd.  By the time they started to notice, the metal was already fixing itself together and beginning to tighten the circle around them.  The humans could be contained, even if their projectiles were a bit trickier.

<< Move fast, >> he warned, as an explosion broke out over the crowd, courtesy of Remy, and Charles' voice rang in his head again.  The humans turned to look, and Erik accelerated the scraps of can into far speedier projectiles than they'd have otherwise been, earning pained shouts from those around it.  Some more scrap landed at Remy's feet, and Erik threw a car door between Charles and Rogue and the protestors for the last bit of the way when attention finally seemed to start turning on them.

"Thank you, Anna." For coming, for bringing Charles and Remy, for getting Charles safely here--for all of it.  But he didn't have time for that conversation, or to ask about where the newfound powers Rogue apparently had came from. "I'm kettling them in.  Taking suggestions on how to deal with them, if we don't want a few hundred dead humans."

Personally, he didn't have a bit of problem with it, but he could see the others were holding back. And it probably wouldn't be of much help with the negotiations, he'd admit.  Didn't mean he wouldn't like to see them dead anyway, but they were trying to act as a team for the time being.

Well.  Most of them.  Erik grit his teeth at the roiling of the Phoenix again.  << The Phoenix wants out.  I can't.  You know what happens when Jean lets it go, and I know I couldn't control it if I did. There are others, ones who don't want to fight, in the building that I'm trying to keep safe.  I can't keep up focus on everything when it's like this. >>

Normally, Charles' presence was enough to help calm his mind, but not this time.  Not in the heat of a battle that shouldn't be happening.

ROGUE: The ease of the conversation came so naturally, it was almost as if they weren’t in the middle of a crowd of people who wanted to kill them — who were so motivated by their hate that they’d do anything to make sure that mutants didn’t get rights. That they didn’t get to be people in the same way as they were. And maybe this wasn’t the place to joke around or slip in side comments to get a rise out of Remy — but it was the only way she knew how to stay sane at a time like this. The only hold she had on something that was remotely normal — something that felt good.

“Ya damn right I’m comin’ at ya from all directions. Gotta keep ya on ya toes, sugar.” Rogue watched as someone almost landed a hit on Remy, immediately feeling the need to run over to help him — but he had it under control. (But knowing that and sidelining that worry? It didn’t matter how capable someone you loved was — you would still worry.) The plan though, it was working. The protesters were reacting as expected to the explosions and moving in predictable patterns. As predictable as the chaos would allow. “’Sides, when it comes from me, it’s different!” And it was, but it didn’t make it any less distracting.

Rolling up her sleeves, she glanced at Remy. “Somethin’ like that.” Though it was nothing like she was sure he was imagining — or what the Professor was. She had been trying to perfect this before using it battle... but that was her curse, she was never quite ready when she was called to the front line. “Ya know, Professor, there was a time when I’d knock ya half way t’ the moon for a crack like that,” Rogue shot back but there was a smile on her face, of all the people that could get away with some off colored comment like that in front of her Boyfriend? It was certainly the Professor. “Ya got lucky today, sugar.”

He gave the signal and in a quick motion, Rogue had the Professor in her arms, cradled like a bride, she bent her knees and then pushed off the ground as fiercely as she could — but she was barely off the ground. It was faster than running, but it wasn’t nearly as smooth as she had hoped. It was harder to fly with the extra weight. (This part, she’d need to practice later.) The landing was rough — she ended up taking a knee next to Erik before standing up again, thankful that she didn’t drop the Professor. “Not bad for my first express flight,” Rogue putting the Professor down and looking at Remy across the crowd. Her first instinct was to go back to him.

But then Erik spoke and Rogue looked at him. “Next time, a phone call, sugar.” Though they both knew this wasn’t anything he had planned. She gave him a  simple nod before looking at the crowd that had been contained. “Don’t kill ‘em, Erik. Lift the whole damn thing and ship them out of the city. Or just keep ‘em prisoners. But killin’ them — that ain’t gonna help our cause, Erik.” This was a war, and on some level Rogue understood that meant death — but... if they had a choice? They could choose not to.

REMY: Having Rogue keep him on his toes was much better than the protesters doing the same, even if Remy was taking offense to her jibes. Though even comments like that sounded like compliments when they came from her. "Oh, so I gotta keep my mouth as quick as my hands, chere? I t'ink I can do dat, as I t'ink you know!" No matter how ill-advised it was to keep on quipping when they were fighting for their lives, he just could not help it when Rogue was instigating the conversation. Even the heat of battle would not keep them apart, surely because they were so used to fighting for the chance to be together. "Mmm, can't argue wit' dat! I'd still rather get criticized by you dan anyone else!"

He still was not sure what she intended for getting the Professor to Erik, though it seemed the Professor approved of whatever she had in mind. Approved a little too much, it sounded like, but while Remy would have decked anyone else who had said something like that to Rogue--if she had not decked them first--he only gave the Professor a mock disapproving look. "Don' worry, Professeur, you get a pass. 'Specially since I'd be sayin' de same t'ing!" Glancing at Rogue, Remy added, "Um...don' hit me either, chere!"

Then, all of a sudden Rogue had picked up the Professor--and was flying towards Erik with him. Remy blinked, completely surprised to see that she could fly. How long had she--no, he had no time to wonder about that now. As it was, he had been distracted long enough that a nearby protester had lobbed a bottle at him, which caught his arm and shattered. Thankfully Remy's coat kept him mostly unharmed, but a shard did hit his cheek, drawing blood. "Merde!" Frowning, he twirled his staff around, knocking away two other projectiles which came his way. Clearly it was time to move. He glanced towards the others and saw Rogue looking at him, which was the only impetus Remy needed.

"Pardon, chiens, comin' through!" Snatching up the other pieces of metal Erik had sent his way, he charged one and tossed it, the resulting explosion clearing a path for Remy to sprint towards Rogue, the Professor and Erik. A few more protesters came at him, and he knocked back as many as he could before finally planting his staff and using it to vault himself the last of the way towards the others. "Whew! Dat was not like wranglin' gators at all! For starters, de gators are usually way more polite!" Straightening up, he wiped his cheek. "Though maybe we should treat dem like gators an' drop 'em in de water. Dey could use some coolin' off."

PROFESSOR X: Charles wasn't bothered by the rough landing at all. In fact, he was just grateful to be on the ground again. Flying and teleporting were not his favorite things to experience mostly because he always felt light-headed after. This time was no different and much like Rogue, he took a knee to get himself sorted again. Even though his back was to the crowd, he was still working, head hopping and keeping an eye on Remy. The crowd near the back was getting ever more rowdy, the confusion Charles caused making it worse. It was great for herding them like the cattle they were right now, but it left Remy vulnerable.

Eventually, Charles stood and much like Erik, he shared the same sentiments towards Rogue, but now was not the time to get mushy --- not yet. He would make certain to properly thank both Remy and Rogue later, but for now, they needed to end this. New York was a big city. The last thing they needed was for potential reinforcements to show up.

He closed his eyes, still head hopping. "Remy's pinned down---no wait. He's coming." Charles stepped back and moments later Remy vaulted and landed with ease before them. His sense of humor had Charles grinning and though he wanted to spend more time joking around, his own body was sharply reminding him that his legs were not going to hold forever.

"You know, for the first time in my life, I almost want to see this whole herd of people carted off and dumped into the bay, but well, there's no guarantee they all can swim. We don't need any of them drowning on national tv or it might hurt our chances at what's left of a peaceful resolution."

Turning to Erik, Charles frowned.

《The bird never much cared for being caged too long, but I am on borrowed time. I can help you control it, but whatever you have in mind, we need to make this our climax. We're all here so whatever you need from Rogue and Remy, they have your back. We all do.》

Pulling out of Erik's head for now, he turned to the others. "I'm going to help Erik steer the bird. It looks like the plan is working. There are a few holes in the back that still need to be plugged but after that, you guys can decide what to do with them. I'll be all tapped out after this."

Reaching for Erik's hand, Charles felt the pull from the bird almost instantly. Even as he closed his eyes, slipping in Erik's subconscious, he felt the bird filtering between the two of them, aggressively trying to wrestle control from one or the other. Charles didn't see how Erik and Jean could deal with this on a constant basis everyday. Charles hated not being in control, but the bird was tugging at all of his sensors, triggering all of his abilities at once.

His hand squeezed Erik's own in an attempt to keep the bird from overwhelming him. After several minutes, his eyes finally opened but the bright blue eyes that were usually there had been replaced by fire. Red-orange hues looked out over the restless crowd. He could hear everyone's thoughts; FEEL the intricate pulses from their brains as if he was wearing Cerebro right now. It felt so good --- that raw power coursing through his veins. There were so many AWFUL things he could do too --- so many things it WANTED him to do. Whispered words taunted him; urged him to do all the horrific things he desired. It would be so easy to kill them all...

Charles!

He blinked, taking a breath. He wasn’t sure if Erik called out to him or if he simply imagined it. Either way, it was enough to shut the bird up and pull him out of the trance. He felt a pull from Erik, one that made him shiver. Perhaps he was manipulating the energy between them --- he didn’t have time to study what was happening. Whatever the case, the bird was the only reason he was still standing now. The moment he let go of Erik’s hand, that was it for him.

《 I’m okay. Do what you have to do. 》

ERIK: Despite the way they'd last parted, Anna greeted him with something approaching the banter they'd once shared so easily, and Erik found himself cracking a wry smile. "You know my luck with phones."  No doubt the one he'd been texting Murdock on had been fried, at this point, by the sheer amount of power being exerted in such close proximity.

Don't kill them. Everything in Erik was screaming exactly the opposite--these people were threatening him, threatening his family. The last time he'd counted on humans to do the right thing in a situation like this, they'd taken advantage of the mercy in order to finish the kill.  There were hundreds of humans here, but that didn't mean he couldn't do it. End. Every. Single. One.

Remy's suggestion to dump them in the bay was an appealing one, regardless of Charles' protests that they didn't know if the humans could swim.

That was, as far as Erik was concerned, not his fucking problem.

Charles took his hand, and Erik's planning faculties flew clean out the proverbial window for a moment as the Phoenix flowed between the two of them in a river of sheer noise. After a few moments that felt like eternity, it settled enough to hear himself think again, although he felt more attuned to Charles' mind than he ever had when the telepath had been in his head before.

<< You focus on keeping the Tower safe--there are some kids still inside. >> Anna and Remy could take care of themselves, rounding up the stragglers. Now that he felt a little less volatile with the power being shared, he could focus on strategy and... yes. That'd do. Not infringe Charles’ sense of morality, but neatly take care of the problem.

"No one move," he warned. "We're going your way, LeBeau."

He reinforced the wall of debris surrounding most of the crowd before reaching down to the piping beneath the pavement, cracking around the edges of the square the humans were stood on.  The sound seemed to make them hesitate, start to run--but far too late.

Erik squeezed Charles’ hand, drawing a bit more of the Phoenix back to himself, and lifted, sending the island of pavement up into the air to a chorus of screams.

Drop them.  

No, no, no.  He wouldn’t go through another Cuba with Charles. So instead Erik tamped down on those worst impulses, and sent the island of pavement sailing steadily across the East River to land just offshore of Greenpoint Beach.

If they couldn’t swim, they could damn well sit in a time-out until a helicopter could get out there.

Already, Remy and Rogue were moving to take care of the humans who’d escaped the express flight to Brooklyn.  Erik squeezed Charles’ hand in warning before letting go slowly, arms moving to catch the man already as his feet gave out from under him, the man slumping against his chest.