#hugo older brothering without even trying

[aziraphalesbookkeeper]

yes i know we all like the vat7k varigo dynamic but holy shit the found family of hugo nuru and yong is sending me

[shinygemstone]

HERE IS A LIST OF THE 30 MAIN KIPO AUs I WANT BUT WILL NEVER HAVE BECAUSE THE FANFIC COMMUNITY IS TINY IN ORDER OF SPOILERINESS (FEWEST SPOILERS FIRST OBVIOUSLY)

1. An AU where Kipo doesn't end up on the surface in the first episode, and has to go through the events with the mega monkey still looking for her

2. An AU in which all of Kipo's people are actually dead, and she's the only survivor. Depression for everyone!!

3. An AU where Margot never betrayed Wolf, and the two have a very close and codependent relationship. Bonus points if Wolf gets kidnapped by Scarlemagne

4. An AU where Wolf's wolf parents never actually betrayed her and raised her alongside the other children. Wolf girl wolf.

5. AU where the protagonists end up separated after Ratland, with Kipo and Benson trying their best to escape Scarlemagne's place without Scarlemagne realizing they're there while Wolf, Mandu, and Dave try to save them

6. AU like #1, except Lio fucking dies and Kipo's body now assumes it is in danger a lot more. So now she's dealing with the mega monkey and turning into the mega jaguar

7. Kipo gets along a little too well with the timbercats, and they kind of adopt her. Parental Yumyan and Molly. They're not surprised to find out she's part cat and teach her how to properly kitty

8. In which Lio turns out to be the mega monkey, somehow.

9. In which Kipo was raised on the surface, and is kind of known as the local feral half cat creature. Naturally, Scarlemagne kidnaps her for weapon usage and oops. Guess he has to teach the feral out of her

10. In which Jamack joins the protagonists (if you didn't think my man would be here you're wrong)

11. Let Kipo get upset about the whole mega jaguar thing PLEASE

12. Song and Lio raise Kipo, while Song is suppressing the mutagen and struggling more and more as she gets older.

13. Song turns out to fill Dr. Emilia's role, and is actually trying to end mutekind.

14. Emilia gets her hands on Kipo, but mistakes her for a normal human (somehow) so Kipo grows up in the science burrow believing mutes killed her parents and that what Emilia is doing is justified. Bonus points if she's Emilia's protege/assistant/intern

15. Emilia gets her hands on Kipo, knowing that she's Song and Lio's daughter, and decides she can use Kipo as a weapon. This would involve a lot of dehumanization and likely good brother Scarlemagne/Hugo. Also Lio? Totally dead

16. AU where Lio manages to yoink Hugo. That's the AU. Hugo and Lio and Kipo as family.

17. AU #16 with angst: Lio gets captured, so it's just Hugo and Kipo. Bonus points if Kipo grows up in Ratland

18. For even more angst, Scarlemagne kidnaps Kipo, raising her in his blooming empire. Except Scarlemagne has no idea how to raise a child, especially not one who's half mega jaguar.

19. Where Mulholland doesn't help Kipo, and Scarlemagne's coronation goes as planned.

20. Where Emilia kidnapping the mutes was a trap, and it works as planned. Kipo is in for such a bad time.

21. Where what Emilia did to the mutes she kidnapped mutes is a lot more horrific than in cannon.

22. WOLF BOTHERS TO REPLACE STALKY

23. Margot changes her mind about betraying Wolf sooner, and Emilia never captures any of the protagonists. Consequently, Emilia sneaks into timbercat village to conduct her evil plans.

24. Instead of Yumyan, Kipo gets hit by the cure. Consequently, the decision is made to have the mega jaguar deal with all subsequent human incidents. This prevents It's a Trap from happening.

25. Kipo gets hit by the cure, except it works. No more mega jaguar, but she gets back to timbercat village.

26. Kipo goes through with sinking the cruise ship. Insert huge crisis (and maybe Song, Lio, or both of them rejecting Kipo/treating her like a monster. Please. I live for angst)

27. AU where Dave kills child Benson, and is a reoccurring side character who's literally just a bastard

28. Fun Gus Monster Emilia. Like just IMAGINE if she took Gus' DNA instead of the mega walrus. Sludge monsters are underrated imo, and she could do so much fucking damage.

29. Emilia gets stuck as a half mute, and gets shoved in prison. Maybe with Hoag.

30. SCARLEMAGNE LIVES

[dolphin1812]

I love how this visitor confuses the Thénardiers so much in relation to his social class that we see the full scale of how they treat people. We know that they’re dishonest overall, but we also know that they’re trying to be hospitable here, so the distinctions in their address are all technically polite, but they’re the different levels of politeness expected for different classes. We see this in the distinction between, for instance, “good man” and “monsieur,” but we also see it in how he’s denied a room. It would be rude to cast him out (and being rude is bad for business), but saying “there’s no room” is a perfectly acceptable excuse. Charging him extra to see if that drives him away serves the same purpose; it’s immoral, but the Thénardiers’ ultimate concern is avoiding having a guest who both can’t pay them and makes their inn look less fancy because he looks poor. Of course, we know that there is space, and the comparative luxury they end up offering this guest in case he’s secretly of a higher class demonstrates their interest in flattering wealthy guests. The speech about the decorations may be made-up, but that kind of attention is part of being a good host, which is important to the job in general but is even more of a priority for someone with money. It makes the Thénardiers seem invested in their guest and as if they are more “elevated” class-wise themselves (from, for example, owning fine bonnets). The fact that they need this man’s money again emphasizes that this is normal treatment and isn’t something specific to their moral failings (even if the dramatic contrasts may stem from that). Class was just that big a factor in how people were treated, down to the address used for them.

We learn more about the contrast between Cosette and the Thénardier girls here as well. Everything about Cosette radiates “fear” and suffering; she’s visibly malnourished and abused, poorly dressed, and melancholy. The other girls are warmly clothed and cheerful, likely because they’re well-fed and loved. They’re not wealthy, either; even they don’t have a very nice doll and have to play with an old and broken one. But they do have a doll, and they also are clothed properly for the weather. It’s a quick way of indicating that yes, the Thénardiers seem wealthy because they’re in a relatively poor village and have the contrast of Cosette right there, but they still can’t afford to spend that much on luxuries like dolls. It reminds me of the difference between how Fantine and Cosette were dressed when she left her in the Thénardiers’ care. Fantine had sold all of her nice clothes and was thus dressed very plainly, but her love for Cosette led her to save all her beautiful things for her daughter. Similarly, the Thénardiers prioritize their daughters’ appearance by buying them nice “bourgeois” clothes, but they don’t actually have the money to cover all the characteristics of that lifestyle.

I love watching the children play with the dolls (and the cat). Éponine and Azelma felt realistically young (and like an older and younger sibling) in how they approached the cat (which I hope got away from them quickly!), and watching Cosette stare at Catherine was both heartbreaking and cute (although seeing her rock the toy she made and tell it that her mother died was so sad). I want to be upset about Hugo’s Thoughts on Women, but in this case, I actually find them ironic in the context of the rest of the novel? The very first woman we were introduced to was Mlle Baptistine, who never married or had children. Hugo points out that this limits the amount of respect she’s given in society, but doesn’t add much more aside from some notes on her devotion to her brother. After that, we continue to meet women who are unmarried and/or childless, and while many of the most notable ones are nuns (like Sister Simplice) and may be gendered by different standards as a consequence of that, it’s so bizarre for Hugo to now say that a woman without children is “impossible.” I think Hugo does see a difference between “womanhood” and “woman who never marries or has kids, but it’s OK because she’s holy in some way,” so perhaps the irony stems merely from the overlap in terms? The whole thing is infuriating, but it’s also just strange.

[oceanic316]

A very short analysis of all* the dads and daddy issues on lost

*Considering every character that was a main character

Daniel

Charles widmore- complete sociopath in many ways, only met Daniel when he was an adult to manipulate him into going to the island on which he would be killed by his mother which Charles witnessed

Boone

Split up with his mother at some point, was clearly left with a nanny frequently enough to kill her, definitely has unresolved issues with his dead stepfather as he fell in love with the stepsister

Miles,

Very obvious dad issues from being raised without him present. Did get to meet him but he was a bit of a dick tbh. I guess he did love him but too little too late

Michael

Little known about his dad but only his mum was looking after Walt off island. His role as a dad could be interpreted as daddy issues

Ana Lucia

Deffo has mommy issues but the lack of clear father figure points to possible daddy issues as does her time with Christian

Charlotte

Goes to shithole island to try to discover her father who was never there. Clearly has daddy issues regardless of her fathers (unknown) quality.

Frank

Has issues but there’s every chance they are NOT daddy issues. Good for him

Shannon

He’s dead and his widow is a terrible stepmother. Daddy issues up to here-may have contributed to her sleeping with her brother

Desmond

He had to raise his siblings so this points again to an absent (at the very least emotionally) father. Daddy issues

Eko

Had to raise his brother suggesting a largely absent father who wasn’t around much

Kate

Blew up her real father due to his general terribleness, her stepfather was in the army so probably has issues over him not being around all that much even though he seems like an alright guy

Jack

Jacks daddy issues regarding Christian are basically a main plot point of the show and even made it into the finale. Points to Christian for feeding into a lot of the characters daddy issues

Sawyer

Dear Mr Sawyer… probably the nastiest daddy issues, doesn’t really get much worse than murder suicide with your kid under the bed. All of sawyers bad bits are due to his daddy issues. Also has daddy issue ties to Christian and Anthony

Locke

Attempted murder was a pretty bad look from Anthony as was the kidney theft. Anthony traveled across the world giving kids daddy issues left right and centre, despite only Locke being shown as his biological kid

Ben

Skeletor was not a great dad and is a key reason captain bunny killer is so messed up. Also bens habit of adopting children (Ethan, Alex) is likely linked to his own crappy upbringing

Sayid

His dad the war hero gave him some toxic masculinity problems, sayid not killing a chicken is our only main clue but it was pretty dark

Libby

Like everything involving Libby’s past, her parents are a big mystery. She does have dead husband issues?

Sun

Mr Paik for sure messed Sun up. His treatment of Jin and his general murdery tendency affected sun not only as a child but also screwed up her marriage

Jin

Jins dad is the nicest guy on the list, but jin had intense daddy issues due to his shame and being raised by a single father.

Claire

Christian really putting it out of the park here! Being the result of an affair involving an American doctor cannot have been fun and his absence in her life probably didn’t help with her wanting to give Aaron up. Also may have contributed to her not trusting Charlie that much

Hurley

David Reyes is an asshole, but he’s a pretty run of the mill, leave my family and don’t come back til there’s money, but he made the most effort to fix things. Hugo has big daddy issues tho

Juliet

Pretty standard daddy issues but her parents divorce clearly stayed with her and led her into some pretty unhealthy relationships later on in life

Charlie

Charlie’s dad seems like quite a nice guy if I’m honest but his older brother messed him up enough I’m happy to say Charlie has something very close emotionally to daddy issues

Richard

Too much of an enigma for a strong analysis but imma go out on a limb and say yes

Bernard

I don’t think so?

Rose

She seems pretty well adjusted so I think no

Vincent

Everyone on the island has been his dad at some point- probably missed Walt his original dad a lot

[crossoverbaps]

Chicken Back Again my Style

I left out the beginning because I found it good enough for my version to stay the same.

Content Warning: fictional S**cide attempt. If this triggers you don't read and say safe

A spaceship landed at SLURP, Glargg glared at three aliens who walked out.

"We're looking for Chuck Chicken, we need to vaporize him!" The red one demanded.

"Wasting your time! Chuck is lost in deep dark space forever and worse than that we lost an evac pod too and we all know how EXPENSIVE THOSE ARE!!!" Glargg screamed

"Well, he's not here, let's go home." The tall alien was stopped by the purple female.

"Nice try, but that excuse is old." The purple one stated.

"Don't take a step closer." Glargg tried to get in the way.

"Um…" The tall one stuttered. Glargg looked at him, something about him was familiar. He buried his face in his hands and started to cry.

"Glargg is no better than Mother!" Glargg whimpered. Chuck, who was disguised as the tall alien, frowned at this but then he noticed his new comrades sneaking away so he had to follow them.

Finley and Starley sat in the lunchroom trying to feed a cardboard cutout of Chuck. Niven and her possy came in to rain me their parade.

"Your butts are where OUR buttons wanna be!" Niven chuckled. Finley and Starley tried to think of a comeback but it was usually Chuck who was able to roast her.. "And forget about Chuck, he's gone."

"Hey!" Hugo rushed in on his stubby legs. "Chuck isn't even here to defend himself and you're mocking him?!" Everyone gasped. They had never seen Hugo be angry at anyone before.

"We just wanted to… Lighten the mood." Niven smiled nervously.

"Well you're doing the worst job ever!" Hugo barked at them. Niven, Dweezil, and Zonk then actually looked slightly ashamed, especially Niven. She turned around, leaving her boy buddies behind.

"I didn't know you had it in you." Ainta told Hugo. "No offense."

"I want to be alone…" Hugo sighed. PiPi was finished recording Hugo's outburst.

"Hugo is capable of anger, this will be great great pass on." PiPi giggled.

"Don't exploit the loss of Buck like that, he meant a lot to Hugo." Adele frowned.

"You act like you care about that, but you don't even know his name." Narci scolded her.

"Says the girl who threatens him just because he can be a little selfish!" PiPi scolded Narci. Everyone started to blow up in the cafeteria, Finley and Starley lowered their heads and walked outside. Starley burst into tears again, Finley patted her shoulder lightly. Suddenly two weird looking creatures picked up Starley and Finley and carried them into a secret room they found when they snuck to the academy.

"What are you doing with those… Creatures?" Chuck questioned.

"They look just like Chuck's siblings!" The red alien chuckled.

"And we need to find out where he is." The purple one stated.

"Wait… Let your captain handle this." Chuck got in the way, the two obeyed. "So this brother… What's he like?"

"He was selfish and annoying-" Finley was interrupted.

"I knew it…" Chuck sighed. "Ahem, I've heard terrible things about him, he's the worst and doesn't deserve anything good in life."

"No!" Starley gasped.

"You didn't let me finish…" Finley teared up. "Chuck was selfish and annoying but he still had a good heart!"

"And we would do anything if he would come back to us, so we could hold him in our arms and never let go for even a second!" Starley teared up. Chuck gasped and made his own tears.

"Then why didn't you look for him?" Chuck scolded.

"We did… We looked everywhere but… We found his abandoned pod… He wasn't in there and it was destroyed." Starley whimpered.

"I wish we could take back every bad thing we said about him!" Finley sobbed. "I'm a failure of a brother!"

"Me too!" Starley hugged her older brother tightly.

"Good job breaking them!" The red alien laughed. "Since their brother is gone and these two love him so much… They will be vaporized so their money will be taken!"

"Isn't there a way to take it without destroying them?" Chuck asked.

"Yes, but it wouldn't be as fun." The purple one scoffed.

"No! I order you to stop!" Chuck commanded.

"You can tell us what to do except for how to do our jobs!" The red one slapped Chuck's helmet revealing his red hair. "Chuck Chicken?!"

"It's true." Chuck scowled. "And I won't let you hurt my brother and sister!"

"Who should we vaporize first?" The red one questioned.

"Me! I'm the one you want!" Chuck pleaded.

"Chuck! No!" Finley and Starley screamed.

"It'll be okay." Chuck smiled. "I'll be a hero and finally get the respect I deserve."

"Chuck, please stop!" Starley begged.

"Chuck!" Finley pleaded him to turn around.

"I love you, and I'm sorry." Chuck was about to be vaporized by that machine, but then something got in the way. Hugo was vaporized into a pile of ash. "Hugo?!"

Hugo immediately turned back to normal, and indestructible. Seeing the Get Em Backs were distracted, Starley rushed over to steal their lazer guns and smash them. Finley rushed over to Chuck and motioned him, Starley, and Hugo to follow him.

"Look at them… all looking out for each other." The purple one sniffled. "We shouldn't be chasing debts… We should reunite our family by finding Croc!"

"You're so right!" The red one sniffled. "But… Can we destroy them anyway? Croc does need some apology gifts."

"Yep, and nothing says "we're sorry" like a few trophies." The purple one smirked as they pulled out new laser guns. Suddenly the two saw a large green towering figure, the principal from earlier. He picked them up by their clothes and put them inside an evac pod.

"Go as far from here as you can and never come back or else Glargg will grind you into nothing but miniscule space dust!!!" Glargg screamed. The two obeyed and drove off.

"Chuck, you almost let yourself get destroyed for us!" Starley looked more sad and worried than grateful when she touched Chuck's shoulder.

"Chuck, you could have gotten hurt." Finley scolded him lightly.

"But would it have mattered? I would be gone and nobody would ever have to see me again." Chuck sighed. "I thought my new sibs could handle me but they hated me…"

"Chuck, we're your sibs no matter what. We may not get along sometimes but we will always be a family." Starley explained while Finley nodded right away.

"And Chuck, when you left, I felt a part of me go missing as well." Hugo confessed.

"Don't ever think like that again." Starley told her younger brother.

"It's so hard though." Chuck whimpered.

"We're really sorry." Finley sniffled as he held Chuck's arm.

"We should have never tried to ditch you like that." Starley held Chuck close. Hugo nuzzled Chuck's face. The four walked out of their hiding place and Glargg smirked with satisfaction after getting rid of the Get Em Backs, but then he saw Chuck.

"Chuck… It can't be. You're back!" Glargg picked up Chuck and held him in his arms, squeezing him tightly. "Glargg was so worried you were gone forever!"

"I'm not BliBli…" Chuck sighed.

"You're just as important as her, if not more!" Glargg nuzzled Chuck's forehead.

"Glargg." Starley climbed to his head and whispered near his antennae. Glargg turned a bit pale, he looked at Chuck with panic in his eyes.

"Chuck… Glargg is so sorry." Glargg whispered. "Glargg was too hard on you."

"I deserved it though." Chuck replied.

"No." Glargg squeezed him even more tightly. "Never try that again, you mean so much to your siblings and Glargg too!"

"I… Okay…" Chuck sighed.

"You're staying with Glargg for a while, you're not to leave Glargg's side without approval." Glargg commanded, this time gently.

"Fine." Chuck sighed.

"Glargg just wants to make sure you're safe." Glargg told him. Glargg's heart sank when he noticed how surprised and confused Chuck looked. Glargg carried Chuck away and placed took him to his room. Glargg gently placed the chicken on his bed. Chuck yawned. Glargg was about to leave Chuck by himself so he could sleep in the couch, but his shirt was tugged by Chuck's hands.

"Don't go…" Chuck gave Glargg puppy eyes. "I don't want to be alone…"

Glargg sat next to Chuck and rubbed his hair. Chuck felt very relaxed as Glargg continued this until Chuck was fast asleep. Glargg forgot how relaxing and satisfying it was when he was taking care of one of his chickens. He assumed because they were much older, they didn't need him nearly as much. But he realized he was very wrong. Chuck needed him more than ever and he silently promised to protect the young one no matter what.

"Glargg?" Starley saw Glargg on his bed, cradling Chuck. Starley was with Finley, both looking very concerned about Chuck, though they were more at ease when they saw he was asleep with the protective Glargg. "We want to stay with Chuck too."

"Please?" Finley added.

"What's two more?" Glargg sighed. The two sat next to him, Starley leaning on his side. Finley was less snuggly but he fully enjoyed being next to Glargg for the first time in a long while.

The three watched the baby of the family being asleep.

"We're here for you Chuck, forever…" Starley whispered.

[pizzatheif]

anyway. after the “mall fire” lulu tries to keep everything afloat without asking hugo for help but then the van houten family home is foreclosed on because no one explained to her how mortgages actually work and she’s pretty sure the guy that told her about her duties as an executor to her parents wills is actually trying to funnel their money away from them. so she has to pack up her moody, too-smart-for-his-own-good, teenage brother and trek over to the trailer park to make her older, too-dumb-for-anyone’s-good half-brother make room for them in his shitty little trailer that he supposedly shares with someone that’s in jail? like, what?? 

hugo offers them the bedroom because the murphy bed is plenty big and it’s not like he’s never slept on his sofa before. raf does Not speak to him or even around him for long enough that hugo gets concerned and corners lu outside one day to make sure he’s okay. 

[harryissuchalittleshit]

Scorpius HC!!

I just finished a fic with Scorpius as the main character two weeks ago!! So let’s get this started!

Draco and Astoria had been so happy to get pregnant with him

Even if it was a struggle

And then Astoria HATED being pregnant

It was the morning sickness that got her, everything else was fine, even when she couldn’t see her own feet or get up without help

Scorpius was born in the middle of the night, January 25, 2005

He’s an Aquarius

He had a very lovely childhood growing up in a small village

Draco was a room aid at the local primary and Astoria worked at the library and sometimes waitressed at a local restaurant

It really wasn’t much, but it was simple and happy and gave Scorpius an appreciation for Muggles and a Muggle lifestyle

He ended up dreading visiting the manor to see his grandparents, especially Lucius

They were just mean to him, to his parents, to the life they lived

And he was a child

Astoria gets pregnant again! This time with a little girl! But then she miscarried

Scorpius was so excited to be an older brother, because he was the only one of his friends that wasn’t an older sibling

But Draco and Astoria are scared to try again, so Scorpius decides to be the best godbrother and older cousin he can be

And he’s really good at it!! Lyla and Anamika adore him! (The feeling completely mutual)

When he’s ten, his grandfather dies

It’s treated as a celebration, and Draco moves Astoria and Scorpius and himself into the manor to keep an eye on Narcissa

Scorpius doesn’t like the manor, it’s dark and drafty and feels off, but he finds a safe space in his room and his parent’s room across the hall

For events, Astoria still lays out his clothes and Draco ties his ties for him, even after he turns seventeen

For as long as he lives with them, they will treat him like the little Prince he is

He is his parents pride and joy, and he loves them so much

When he goes to Hogwarts and becomes friends with Al, he worries a little, but then realizes that it doesn’t matter

He isn’t Draco and Draco knows this too

The Potters and Weasleys all grow to love Scorpius quickly and his parents grow to love Al just as fast

The same happens when he starts dating Rose

Ron and Hermione are a bit unsure about it, but they trust Rose and her judgement

But even Hugo likes Scorpius, and Scorpius does take the time to become friends with Hugo

He will even come to visit the Granger-Weasleys just to hang out with Hugo and talk about football

He becomes an Auror after leaving Hogwarts, and Al is his partner until he leaves

Scorpius becomes a trainer for new recruits and ends up making the training more effective and better

He marries Rose after their first son is born

They have six kids, Hermes Hugo, Athena Hermione, Hephaestus Ronald, the twins Artemis Astoria and Apollo Draco, and finally baby Aphrodite Lyla

All of their children are named after someone they love

I just see Scorpius having a very loving and fulfilling life

Also CC isn’t real and will never be real to me

[legends-live-in-memories]

For The Love of a Father (Idea)

AYO it me! this was inspired by an idea by @1rosebyanyothername in the MGI server. (i copied this directly from the server so rip my punctuation)

“What if somehow Thomas Wayne managed to live but lost his memory, so he moved to Paris, taking on the name Thomas Dupain?

What if he then married Sabine Cheng, and then eventually had Marinette?

So Bruce would be Marinette’s half brother, around 8 years older than her.”

So this is what I came up with as a part of brainstorming for it. (again not a fic but an idea that i should not be allowed to have)

without further ado:

Okay so imagine they, Thomas and Martha, were pronounced dead on scene but when they get to the coroner's office Thomas wakes up but since this has already made big public scandal the coroner tries to be discrete and ships his unconscious body off to like Strange or someone who then confirms the memory loss or gasp does it himself and ships him off to who knows where cuz the underbelly of Gotham has plans and a living Wayne ruins that but he didnt kill him cuz the Wayne foundation funded Blackgate and Arkham so out of mercy he doesnt kill him but ships him off to Italy in the care of one (1) ☝ Gina Dupain who was all new son and rolled tf with it

now he is being careened off to Paris cuz his 'father' Roland lives there but since Thomas was already a grown man at this point he just tries to live on his own and this is where he meets Sabine and they have a lovely daughter named Marinette Martha Dupain-Cheng

he doesnt know why he chose Martha but the name comes with an intense feeling of love so of course he would name his first daughter after that name

now either this is set in like fox series Gotham where we have young pre!batman Bruce or whenever but if you choose that route then maybe immediately after the series during his sabbatical he finds himself in Paris and would you look at that his dad his sweeping floors while a girl no older than 6 is calling him papa and Bruce just fucking breaks and he doesnt know what to do cuz he thought this man was dead but no he has a new family a new wife a new kid and Bruce has spent all this time grieving this man so he walks in trying to figure out wtf is going on but then Thomas looks up at this now 18??? yr old Bruce and there's a pleasant smile and 'welcome to Tom and Sabines how can i help you' and no recognition and Bruce then realises he has truly lost his father and now when he becomes batman its not with the grief of losing his parents but with the pain of losing his father twice

so then fast forward and cue to 13 yr old Marinette and being ladybug and wonder woman tells the league of a problem in Paris and Bruce just like freezes cuz wtf and internally he's spiralling cuz he never recovered from his discovery of his father's new simple life but the mission comes first and the grieving 12 yr old inside has to take a backseat for now so he sends someone (maybe midnighter but idk much bout him so someone else like wonder woman) to find out more and get in contact with those dealing with the situation so they schedule a meeting with ladybug and chat noir and Bruce nearly swallows his tongue cuz he doesnt give a f bout magic and magic cant hide those eyes cuz he sees them every morning in the mirror the same shade of blue (idk if it was Thomas or Martha that had blue eyes and i dont think canon knows either) and Bruce just knows this is his father's daughter his sister and she's caught in the same life as he but not because she condemned herself to this life but cuz some ras al ghul wannabe forced her and now he's seeing red but he cant lose his cool cuz batman doesnt lose his cool

so they work together but this little girl no taller than his ribs is hesitant and cautious and she's cracking under the pressure cuz her partner has other responsibilities and she has to pick up the slack and she doesnt know what to do and now Bruce is this close to revealing himself to her and explaining everything so that she has a bigger shoulder to lean on but he cant cuz hawkmoth and magic and secret identities and its a whole mess

(he is absolutely ready to go apeshit during weredad but he doesnt but its a damn near thing)

NOW we cut to when Mari is like 16 and theyre closing in on hawkmoth but he cant focus too much on that cuz 38 yr old Bruce just picked up a child and holy shit how does one parent and his sister?? can he even call her that?? is handling the situation so he takes a bigger backseat on Paris and focuses more on cleaning up Gotham and training/raising robin

and now things are kinda mellowing out and everyone falls into their new routines and roles in life Bruce almost forgets that his dad is not dead and during an investigation he finds out that Hugo Strange was responsible for shipping his father off like cheap export and now he's torn because he knows Strange can undo it,,, the bastards done worse and more complicated shit over the years undoing memory loss that he caused should be piece of cake but he doesnt want to take away a father from his child cuz Bruce knows how that can absolutely ruin someone and he's grown fond of his sister even if the relationship is severely one-sided she's family and Bruce couldnt do that to family but ,,,, but he misses his father he loves Alfred truly but nothing replace the Thomas and Martha shape gape in his heart so he does nothing

NOW he does however want to bridge the gap between himself and Marinette cuz he wants to know his father's new family even if the thought of his father loving someone other than his mother and calling someone else his child makes him viscerally ill he is nothing if not addicted to self-inflicted punishment after all

so he invites her whole class over to metropolis as some scholarship trip (he'll be damned if he brings his tiny sister to gotham of all places) and tries to get to know her there but he cant do so under much professional settings so he lets it slip casually in a presentation about his parents and includes a picture of his parents and he sees the looks the girl’s classmates throw around cuz they know that man as her father not his but no one can deny the resemblance so after the presentation she discretely goes off to talk with him in private but everyone sees them and knows whats happening so there is no time for pretense but they go into a back room and they talk and talk and talk and cry a little bit maybe a lot and they make promises to get to know each other

[sweeethinny]

Insecurities and loneliness

Summary:

Lily faces problems on her first year, problems that Ginny knows very well and knows that she will need to talk about - almost - everything about her own first year. Things are almost never easy in the beginning.

Thanks to @startanewdream, for the prompt, thanks to @whathefawkes for the incredible help and conversation, I hope you all like it.

No, in my HC all cousins are not best friends, because each one has their own life. Lily is the youngest. She is going to the second year, Albus to the fourth, James to the sixth :)

Read bellow the cut or on AO3

'Can I come in?' James asked, looking a little flustered, his cheeks flushed and his hair a little messy, just putting his head into Ginny's office.

'Sure, did something happen?' Ginny continued to sort the papers into organized stacks, keeping her mind working and still trying to pay attention to what James had to say. It was only a week away for her to deliver that work, and if a comma was wrong, she was screwed.

'Look, I don't like to gossip... well, not like that, at least, but I think there's something wrong with Lily.' As soon as he stopped talking, Ginny had already dropped the papers and stared at her son, big eyes towards him, a little scared.

'What do you mean, something wrong?' James looked at his own feet, seeming to think the exact words, and Ginny hated that he was not as impulsive in these moments as she was, but more rational like Harry.

'Mira realized that... I also noticed... that she is a little alone. Since Rose traveled... She doesn't seem to have friends.' James grimaced, as if he didn't like having to say it out loud. 'I know it's her first year, but Lily seems a little out of place, I don't know. I mean, Louis is out, Rose is older than she, Hugo and she are not that attached, Albus has his friends.. I just want to say that maybe she is feeling a little alone. She was alone all afternoon today, basically, in the living room. Albus is locked up with Scorpion and even when they go to the kitchen, I don’t think they’ll talk to her, and I was with Mira… We asked her out, but Lily said she didn’t want to.’

'I'm going to talk to her,' Ginny assured, thinking that those papers could wait a few more hours. Harry would work until later, and she could take the time to work. Something about her maternal instinct didn't seem to like what James was saying. 'Thanks.'

'You're welcome.' James smiled, waving and running out of her office, leaving Ginny surrounded by silence.

She didn't want Lily to feel alone, Ginny knew what it felt like to be alone and the consequences of that weren't the best. Her daughter was the youngest and her brothers always seemed too busy for her. Lily was the youngest of the entire family. Perhaps the lack of a close cousin and with her age would make her feel more alone than usual.

Of course, Ginny noticed that James and Albus got letters from their friends, but Lily only received a few from time to time from Rose, but she particularly believed that her daughter had found other ways to communicate with friends. Through the mirror, or perhaps, she would send letters but she was only more discreet; Ginny felt like a bad mother.

Leaving her office in the underground, next to Harry's and their wine cellar, Ginny went up the stairs and walked towards the living room, where a loud noise of voices was heard. The room was dark, even though there were still traces of sunlight outside, the curtains all drawn, and the only source of light was the TV on over the fireplace. Lily almost disappeared in the middle of the sofa cushions, lying where Harry used to be. There was a thin blanket on top of her, an empty popcorn jar, empty cookie wrapper inside the jar, and a cup on the coffee table, which Ginny guessed was chocolate milk.

Which made her understand the gravity of the situation and how miserable Lily was feeling, since she only drank hot chocolate when it was miserably cold, or when she was miserable.

The girl's arm was still bandaged, as she had fallen off the broom when she was trying to accompany James on high, and Harry was unable to fully relieve the fall. Lily had been fine, even though Ginny had seen her terrified eyes when the healer said that she would need to put the bone in place and it would probably hurt.

'Hey,' Ginny said quietly, walking around the couch to sit next to the girl, who did not take her eyes off the TV, where now a blonde girl seemed willing to dye her hair black. 'All right?'

'Yea,' Lily murmured, shrugging her shoulders as if she didn't pay much attention to her mother. Ginny smiled sadly.

'James said you didn't want to go out with him and Mira today... did anything happen?' She tried again, lifting the blanket and lying next to Lily, as they used to do before she went to Hogwarts.

‘They clearly didn’t want me to go together. So, I didn't.' Lily continued without looking at Ginny, her glasses reflecting a little of the colored lights that came from the TV.

'Do you want to talk?' This time, Lily turned her attention away from the TV, for a few seconds, looking at Ginny quickly before turning around again.

'No.' Ginny nodded, trying not to take it too personally.

'Do you want to help me make dinner? I thought about cooking that pasta dough that your dad made… Maybe make meatballs?' Ginny knew it was her favorite dish, of course, it wasn't Harry's homemade pasta with meatball, but she could try.

'Why doesn't Al help you?' Lily said, looking at her mother again. 'Or is he too busy?' Lily's sarcastic tone didn't go unnoticed, and Ginny didn't think it was even the girl's intention to make it clear what she meant, but still, it hurt a little inside her. The 11-year-old Ginny seemed to feel the pain that Lily felt.

'Your brothers are very busy, huh?' Ginny tried, stepping on eggs and afraid to end up breaking one, causing Lily not to open up to her.

'Everyone is.' The girl pulled the blanket up to her chin, turning her attention back to the TV.

‘Even your friends?’

'They didn't send me any letters, so they must also be busy.' Ginny wanted to break the main rule that she and Harry stipulated when Teddy started being a tantrum teenager, which was ''give them space to talk when they feel comfortable'', and wanted to hug Lily and ask a million questions and then go up to James and Albus' room and force them to interact with their sister.

But Ginny was steady, taking a deep breath and trying to keep her composure.

'Did you send them a letter?' It seemed that it hurt Ginny more than it hurt her daughter, the monster from the past terrorizing her mind, even if it wasn't real at all.

Ginny knew that eventually it would happen, and that raising a girl would bring out this demon she kept under lock and key.

Dealing with Teddy, James or Albus' insecurities seemed a lot easier now. It was as if theirs didn't hurt as deeply as the ones she shared with Lily.

Ginny knew what it was like to be lonely even with a big family.

'It's just her. I only have one friend,' Lily said, looking ashamed of it. 'And I did, but she didn't respond.' Ginny blew out a breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding, closing her eyes for a second as if she was trying to find the right words.

‘Lily, honey-’

'-It's okay,' Lily interrupted, speaking a little louder, as if she was controlling herself to explode. 'She looked like she was my friend just because of James, anyway.' She shrugged, denying vehemently as if she wanted to forget. ‘Okay, I’m over it.’

‘Lily-’

'-It is true. I'm fine here. Today I saw three good films, and two bad ones, much better than yesterday, that everything I watched was bad.’ She smiled, as if she was trying to be happy. 'Besides, maybe when I remove the sling, I can improve my nail painting technique. The left hand always gets worse than the right.'

‘My love, but are you going to be locked in here?’

'But there's not much to do, mom,' Lily complained, her voice wavering and shaking. 'Rose is traveling, Teddy is away, Albus is always very busy, and James too. Everyone has something to do but me.' Her brown eyes teared up behind her glasses, which was the last straw for Ginny, who hugged the girl as if she were still her little baby, lying trapped against her chest and kissing her forehead.

Her mother's heart, which wanted to protect her children from all harm and pain, broke when she felt Lily's tears wet her white button-down shirt, one arm hugging her back, while keeping the other protected from the grip.

Ginny wanted to be able to feel that pain herself, wanted to open Lily's chest and remove any shadow of insecurity that might arise, with her own hands, to take care lovingly so that she would never doubt herself, and that she would always be happy.

But Ginny also knew that she couldn't do that, not just because of the obvious, but because it would help Lily grow and learn to defend herself. It was necessary if Ginny wanted her daughter to be independent and really sure of herself.

However, it still hurt.

Ginny kissed Lily's head, stroking her red hair, and closing her eyes when the demons themselves seemed to want to visit her, the ones who hardly made any more noise but who occasionally tormented her.

'I didn't have a good first year either,' Ginny started, her voice strangled. 'I also felt lonely and out of place, and a little lost, because I saw my brothers just being my brothers at home and when I got there everyone had friends of their own, and they were famous, and they didn't seem to care much for me.' She laughed sadly, pressing Lily against her. 'But I know they still loved me, they just had their own lives, and I know it hurts when we don't feel inside any group, or when we see ourselves alone, but... You are not alone, Lily. You never will be. It's your first year, everyone who came in with you is also lost, I promise you that, and little by little you will get to know more people, loosen up more, and make friends... This girl? Maybe she really is your friend, even though she likes James.. It’s because he is older, and when we are that age the older boys look much more interesting.’

'But James is ugly,' Lily complained, her voice muffled against her mother's shirt. Ginny laughed softly, thinking about how that sounded a little with a little bit of jealousy.

'Well, maybe your friend doesn't think so. Who knows, maybe she just can't answer the letter? Call her to come here, or to come with us to the Amusement Park next week. What about?'

'What if she doesn't want to?' Lily lifted her head, her glasses fogged and a little crooked on her face, her brown eyes a little red from crying.

'So, when you return to Hogwarts you make other friends. Maybe you meet someone on the train and become friends with that person, who knows? The youngest always go alone, it is a good opportunity to meet someone. That's how I met Aunt Luna.’ Ginny smiled, seeing her smile too. Not a big smile, but a lot better than the crying of before. ‘James was worried about you.’

'James?' Lily's eyes blinked, looking confused by that brother's demonstration. Ginny would have to talk to him and Albus about not leaving Lily alone at Hogwarts, at least for now, while she was still adapting.

'Yes… I know that now he and Albus don't seem to want you around, and I swear, when you get to their age you will also feel that way, but they are still your brothers, and they still love you. Never forget that, okay?’

'Okay.' She nodded, her cheeks a little flushed.

'And me and your father always, Lily, always, we will be here. You can always send us a letter and call us whenever you feel necessary or want to talk. Never think you can't tell us how you feel, okay? Promise me.' The demons who seemed to have woken up with that situation, stirred inside her, as if only the memory of what she lived and the times she thought of telling that she felt something was wrong but was afraid, would make her want to cry again.

It had been a few years since the last time something had reminded her of Tom and made her feel that way.

'I promise.' Lily hugged her, as if now it was Ginny who needed that warmth.

It soothed her in a way, it was like the times when Harry held her after a nightmare, silently promising that it was all over and that she was fine.

'Are you going to make dinner with me? I bought the cookies you like.’

'This is a great way of bribing,' The girl took the blanket off them, dragging herself off the couch. 'But I'm still going to paint my nails.' Lily picked up the whole mess of dishes and packaging, following her mother into the kitchen after turning off the TV.

'Okay, we can do this together.' Ginny smiled, winking at her. 'I love you, my love.' She hugged her once again, taking advantage of the fact that Lily still liked affection, and had not yet reached Albus' age, who seemed to hate showing affection.

‘I love you too, mom.’

'Now, tell me...' Ginny cleared her throat, taking the pasta dough that Harry had made two days ago. 'Mira and James?' Lily's eyes widened, turning away from her and opening the refrigerated cupboard where they kept the meat, looking like she wanted to buy time.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, mom.’

| LATER |

'Hey,' James interrupted the music Lily was listening to, sitting on the bedroom floor as she arranged the new books her father had bought for her, by color. She almost got off the ground with a fright, looking at the door and seeing Albus and James standing there. ‘How are you?’ The older asked, wearing only an old pair of shorts that were stained with paint. Albus looked as if he had been forcibly pulled out of bed, with messy hair and the old wrinkled Muggle band T-shirt, as well as the shorts he wore.

'Fine. Did something happen?' Lily was surprised, they almost never entered her room, Teddy did, but James and Albus not.

'No, we just wanted to be with you,' Albus said, showing the Explosive Snap box he was carrying. 'Want to play?'

'Hm... yes.' She frowned, placing the last book on the shelf and crawling forward, being followed by her brothers who also sat on the floor, not even complaining about the music she heard.

'I brought you cake, I thought you would want it too.' James reached for a plate for her, a nice piece of the carrot cake that Al and Harry had made the day before. Lily smiled.

'Of course, thank you.' She imagined that her mum might have spoken to them, or maybe - and more likely - James had forced Albus to accompany him, but Lily didn't care much, she liked that they at least cared for her, it didn't matter how they got there. ‘Mom asked me about you and Mira today.’

'What?' James turned, his cheeks incredibly red.

'Oh, James, you were discovered.' Albus laughed, pushing his brother's shoulder with a slight provocation.

'I didn't say anything.' Lily swore. 'You're welcome.'

'Thank you.' James was still flushed, but rolled his eyes when she and Al laughed. ‘I don’t even know why she asked if there’s nothing going on.’

'So can I tell her that I saw you two kissing today?' Albus asked, a cheeky smile on his face, eyebrows raised.

'Fuck off, Albus.' James pushed him back, which only made them laugh even more.

Mum was right after all, Lily thought, filling her mouth with cake and watching Albus tease James even more, they were still brothers and her best friends.

[longitudinalwaveme]

Arkham Files: Weather Wizard

Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Marco “Mark” Mardon, also known as the Weather Wizard. Patient displays symptoms that suggest Borderline Personality Disorder, but I have not had the time to give him a full psychological evaluation. Session One. How are you feeling, Mr. Mardon? 

Weather Wizard: Fine. I guess. Not sure what I’m doing in an insane asylum, though. 

Hugo Strange: I am afraid that the blame for that can be laid at the feet of endless bureaucratic red tape, Mr. Mardon. No one could decide where to house you and the other ‘Rogues’ while Iron Heights Penitentiary is being rebuilt, and so someone, in their endless wisdom, decided to simply send you all to Arkham Asylum, most likely because we are perceived as the logical dumping ground for all costumed criminals. 

Weather Wizard: Oh, okay. Good. I was getting worried that I’d lost my mind without realizing it or something. 

Hugo Strange: So, Mr. Mardon, you call yourself the Weather Wizard. 

Weather Wizard: That’s right. Why? 

Hugo Strange: And you use a device called the Weather Wand in order to manipulate the weather? 

Weather Wizard: That’s also right. Why? 

Hugo Strange: It’s quite an astonishing piece of technology you wield, Mr. Mardon. Did you make it yourself?

Weather Wizard: Me? Make the Weather Wand? (Laughs) I’m not smart enough to do that.

Hugo Strange: So who did invent it, Mr. Mardon?

Weather Wizard: My older brother, Clyde. He was better at science than me. (Pause) Actually, he was better at everything than me. 

Hugo Strange: Clyde Mardon? I remember reading about him in the papers many years ago. From all appearances, he was a very promising young scientist. 

Weather Wizard: Yes, he was. My folks were really proud of him. 

Hugo Strange: What about you, Mr. Mardon? Were you not proud of him? 

Weather Wizard: Of course I was proud of him! Clyde was a genius! (Pause) And I...wasn’t. 

Hugo Strange: Your records indicate that you spent your entire childhood in your brother’s shadow, Mr. Mardon. You could never learn as quickly or jump as high or run as fast as he could, and your parents viewed you as an afterthought at best. He was their golden child, and you? You couldn’t measure up, so you became the scapegoat. Whenever things went wrong, you were the one who got the blame. It would be only natural for you to resent your older brother. 

Weather Wizard: Resent him? (Pause) Yeah, I guess I did. Sometimes I hated him so much that I wished he was dead...but at the same time, I loved him. Clyde...he was the only good thing in my life, you know? He wasn’t like Mamá and Papá. He knew what a screwup I was, but he stuck by me anyway- me, worthless, stupid, pathetic Mark Mardon. It used to make Mamá furious. Clyde was important; he was going places. He couldn’t have his worthless little brother dragging him down for the rest of his life; better just to get rid of me. But he never listened to her. Even after I became a thief, he still didn’t cut ties with me. He said he wanted to help me; that I wasn’t just the worthless waste of space that Mamá and Papá said I was. I didn’t really believe him, but it was...it was nice to know that at least one member of my family didn’t wish that I had never been born. 

Hugo Strange: Your parents told you that they wished you had never been born? 

Weather Wizard: Uh-huh. I don’t remember what exactly led up to it-I think I’d failed an important exam or something like that-but I remember their reaction to whatever it was clear as day. Mamá and I got into a shouting match over whatever it was that I’d screwed up that time, and about a minute in, Mamá looked me dead in the eyes and said “No sé qué te salió mal, pero eres un fracaso, una vergüenza para la familia. ¡Ojalá nunca hubieras nacido!” And then she burst into tears, and Papá grounded me for making her cry. 

Hugo Strange: That is terribly unfortunate, Mr. Mardon. No child should ever have to hear that from their parents. 

Weather Wizard: (Trying to play it cool) It wasn’t that bad, really. I was pretty much used to being insulted by that point. Besides, I still had Clyde. I knew he loved me. Even if he was better than me at everything. 

Hugot Strange: So your relationship with your older brother was more complicated than one might have expected. Fascinating. (Pause) You know, Mr. Mardon, there are rumors that say you killed your brother in order to get the Weather Wand. 

Weather Wizard: Killed him? 

Hugo Strange: Certainly you understand where the rumors come from, Mr. Mardon. An escaped convict, who has lived his entire life in his brother’s shadow up until this point, stumbles into his brother’s isolated lab, only to find that said brother has conveniently dropped dead, having just finished a device that will grant the convict unimaginable power? I have to say that it does sound rather suspicious. 

Weather Wizard: Are you saying that I murdered my brother to get the Weather Wand? 

Hugo Strange: Well, did you, Mr. Mardon? 

Weather Wizard: No! Clyde died of congenital heart failure. The coroner even said so. 

Hugo Strange: And your first instinct upon finding your older brother dead was to steal the Wand he had worked so hard to build? 

Weather Wizard: Well, he wasn’t going to be using it. He was dead; it couldn’t help him anymore. But it could help me. I was so tired of being stupid, lazy, worthlesss Mark Mardon-and being the Weather Wizard meant that I didn’t have to be him anymore. With the Weather Wand, I could finally be someone important! 

Hugo Strange: In other words, you stole the Wand so that you could finally be special, like your older brother had been. 

Weather Wizard: Exactly! Clyde invented the Wand...but I was the one who would use it to master the weather. Oh, Dr. Strange...you have no idea how wonderful it felt to finally be important; to wield the kind of power and know that no one...no one...would ever ignore me again. 

Hugo Strange: And you used this great power to...rob banks and jewelry stores? 

Weather Wizard: What else would I have used it for? 

Hugo Strange: Humanitarian aid comes to mind. Or, if you’re insistent on using the Wand for evil, world domination. You can control the weather, Mr. Mardon! There is virtually no limit to the things you could accomplish! 

Weather Wizard: World domination? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not smart enough to run the world...and besides, it sounds like way too much work. No, I’m happy to stick to the small-time. Less work that way...and less chance for me to screw things up. 

Hugo Strange: For a man who can bend the weather to his whims, Mr. Mardon, you are disturbingly lacking in both self-confidence and ambition. 

Weather Wizard: You should see me when I’m fighting the Flash. I don’t lack self-confidence then. 

Hugo Strange: Ah, yes, your city’s costumed vigilante. I was wanting to talk about him, actually. What sort of relationship do you have with the Flash, Mr. Mardon? 

Weather Wizard: Adversarial, I guess? He’s always getting in the way of my robberies, and that’s pretty annoying, but I’m not obsessed with him or anything. I’m not, like, gonna go out of my way to get his attention. I happen to like being able to successfully escape with my loot. 

Hugo Strange: And he had no influence on your decision to put on a green leotard and start calling yourself the Weather Wizard? 

Weather Wizard: I don’t think so. I mean, I guess it’s possible that he had some influence on my costume design or something without me realizing it, but I didn’t put on a costume because he wears one. 

Hugo Strange: So you wouldn’t stop being the Weather Wizard if the Flash were no longer around? 

Weather Wizard: Of course not! If I’m not the Weather Wizard, I’m a nobody: stupid, pathetic, worthless, useless Mark Mardon. I’m never going back to that life. Never. (Pause) That being said, I do have to admit that there’s a part of me that hopes that the Flash won’t go away. Crime wouldn’t be half so much fun without him around. 

Hugo Strange: First you say that you would prefer to avoid the Flash if you could; then you say that crimes wouldn’t be half so much fun without him. Which is it, Mr. Mardon? Is he a nuisance, or an enjoyable challenge?  

Weather Wizard: (Long pause) I...I don’t know. 

Hugo Strange: Then allow me to offer my theory, Mr. Mardon. I think you have Borderline Personality Disorder. 

Weather Wizard: I have what? 

Hugo Strange: Borderline Personality Disorder. It’s a mental illness characterized by mood swings, impulsive behavior, feelings of boredom or emptiness, an unstable, distorted self-image, and, perhaps most relevantly to this conversation, unstable interpersonal relationships. Your relationship with your brother was like this-you claim that he was the best thing in your life and that you wished that he was dead-and so, I think, is your relationship with the Flash. When you are in a relatively good mood, he is a fun challenge; when you are more stressed, he is an inconvenience you would prefer to avoid. Either way, he exacerbates your condition. 

Weather Wizard: (Muttering) So my parents were right. I really am a lunatic. Great. 

Hugo Strange: You are not a lunatic, Mr. Mardon. You are a man who needs to learn how to properly manage life with a difficult disease. But don’t worry. I am here to help you. 

[violetmuses]

Black Rose || Chapter 7

Author’s Note: Been waiting to write this one! 

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96  @skvatnavle @mayhem24-7forever @lilisangel @peakyrogers @sociiallydiisoriiented

Black Rose - Masterlist 🖤

====

2013

Leo Hill 

“Leo!” One voice echoed my name out loud, but not in a fun way this time. 

I had barely glanced over my shoulder before realizing that Drew Butler marched right over the threshold.  It wasn’t long before my heart dropped and raced all at once. 

If Drew was here, Russ would lurk right behind his best friend like the scariest shadow of all time. 

Not Cyrus, Russ, the baddest man in New York. 

For the last few years, I hid out on this faraway shoreline, praying to never cross paths with his team again. 

I was so wrong.

“Hey, Drew. What's up, man?” Stammering, I panicked as soon as he gripped both ends of my uniformed shirt. 

“Cut the small talk, L. I could make this shit real easy if you cooperate.” Drew shoved his hands away from the hold on my clothes. 

“Okay, no problem. What do you need to know?” With my back still pressed up against the nearest wall, cigarette smoke reeked towards our nostrils. 

“Heard through the grapevine that Russ has a biological brother. Tell me where he is.” Drew cleared his throat, but I knew that he sided a concealed firearm on his hip. 

“Even if I knew, I’m not telling you guys anything. Heard too much shit about his Dad recently and someone else might end up getting killed at this point.” I tried to put my foot down, trying to keep other people alive for once. 

“Russ is right outside, L. Are you sure about answering me like that?” Drew folded both arms, but stepped closer to me near the wall. 

“What’s the point of finding him? Like I said, you guys might hurt somebody else, man.” My words still hurried, worried. 

“You really think we’d find his brother just to kill him?” Drew furrowed his brow while looking at me. 

“If I say anything else, you could.” I slipped the truth, but hoped that Drew and Russ would back off in one way or another. 

“What? He’s a cop, Leo?” Drew already thumbed his holster. 

“Nah, worse.” I clipped, but still swallowed these words. 

“Which agency?” Drew ended up lowering his voice right now. No pretense or showboating. 

“Retired from the FBI. About ten years older than Russ. He’s got a wife too. Back off before you two finally get caught acting up.” I went on, trying to make my case once more. 

“What’s his name?” Drew handed over one last question and I ripped off the nearest sticky note, scribbling to answer: 

TOBIAS REID HUGO

_______

Russ and Drew wanted me to fly down South with them for this moment to go down. In the event that it was all a lie, there was too much at risk. I drove into the boonies, guiding them towards a ranch house.

 From my sources, I knew that Tobias had worked through one of the Southeastern field offices long before this point. 

Without even sharing words with me, Cyrus rang the doorbell first, meaning that Drew and I stood right behind him on its nearby porch. 

I could only imagine what crossed his mind as we stood and waited in silence. Behind our head, a lake gurgle its sound and cicadas chirped past afternoon sunlight. 

“Hi, can I help you?” A woman asked. When the door opened, all three of us froze. It wasn’t Tobias at first. 

The woman stood in the doorway. Brown eyes. Pretty smile. Dark skin complexion. Jet-black curls that fell around her face to beat the summer heatwave now. Even the diamond ring found on her left hand almost blinded us. 

“Hi, Sorry to interrupt you, but I was looking for Tobias. Is he here?” Cyrus allowed his voice become gentle, as if he and Drew never threatened me in the first place last night. 

“Oh, yeah. Hold on for a second.” The woman beamed another perfect smile before glancing over her shoulder and yelling out towards what looked to be the foyer inside. “Baby! You’ve got company here.” 

The woman’s voice somehow measured between Southern roots and an odd-sounding Yankee tone. Silence fell here outdoors, leaving me with so many other questions. 

On the other hand, before Cyrus could turn away in defeat, we all perked up when distant footsteps echoed towards us. Another man’s silhouette prompted my eyes to widen. 

“Hey, fellas?” Tobias greeted all of us. It was him. Right now, I nearly teared up after realizing how much Cy and Tobias favored each other. 

In that moment, everything stopped almost immediately once Tobias had noticed that Cy was facing him. 

That Hugo blood was so strong. Blondish hair matched. Their hazel eyes were scarlily identical. Lines of each man’s face mimicked their Dad right away. 

“Hey, Little Bro.” Tobias moved past Drew and me, skipping the porch and stepping right off  to open both arms. 

“Hey.” After just a few moments of extra silence, Cy had answered Tob so quietly that we almost couldn’t hear him. 

By the time these two actually hugged each other, the embrace rocked back and forth. In the silence of this much-needed day, Cyrus allowed himself to give out muffled cries. 

“It’s okay, man. You’re good, you’re good.” Tobias patted Russ’s shoulder after pulling away from their overdue hug. 

“I’ve waited so long for this. Dad left me in the dark, T.” Cyrus went on, grumbling loud enough for us to hear towards his brother. 

“No matter what happened, I’m glad you’re here. Come on. Let’s get you guys something to eat.” Tobias patted Russ’s shoulder again, but led Drew and me back into the house. 

[maxwell-grant]

Have you read the short story Norvell Page wrote as a wedding present for a Big Name Fan about Dick and Nita's first meeting? Any thoughts on it? My main is that Page does not go where you expect him to based on that description.

I did! Actually it was one of the first Spider stories I read. And yeah, to an extent, it's absolutely not what you'd expect from something set in The Spider's world. And on the other hand, it's absolutely what makes the most sense for these two characters. Because, yeah, Norvell Page could have done what he usually does, and written some over-the-top action where Dick and Nita happen to meet during it.

But no, that wouldn't work. Because, for all the turmoil and chaos in The Spider, for everything that he and Nita go through, there are many times when, sturdier even than Dick's resolve is their love for each other, the deep understanding and affection that carries them through hell itself time and time again.

And so, when it was time to showcase how such a romance started, Page wisely deviated from his usual narrative style, and instead told a very, very intimate and personal story, a long and extended conversation between the two, and more importantly, between Page and the reader. Between The Spider, and You, peering into The Spider through the eyes of Nita van Sloan.

I think for a start, it's an interesting coincidence that this meeting takes place on a cruise ship, and it involves Dick rescuing Nita from suicide. I say this because Margo Lane's first meeting with Lamont Cranston, in the pulps, was stated to have taken place on a cruise ship, and of course, the first time we see The Shadow in the pulps, he's rescuing Harry Vincent from suicide, and both Harry and Margo are The Shadow's main supporting characters. I'm not saying it was intentional, but it's an interesting fact. And more so because Dick doesn't really rescue Nita.

Her scarf whipped in the wind on deck, and it blinded her... and a hand touched her arm, and a voice spoke to her.

"If it's intentional, don't let me stop you," the voice said, "but you're heading straight for suicide."

Nita looked then at the stop toward which, blindly, she was going, and it was a chain barrier beyond which was the sea. And she looked at the man who had stopped her and it was Richard Wentworth. And his words had been a shock to her.

"You wouldn't try to dissuade me from suicide?" she asked.

Wentworth's brows were tilted whit a hint of mockery, but his eyes were very grave. "Every man is master of his own soul, and hence of his body," he said. "And your eyes are wide open and awake. So it would be a considered action. I'm not sure, under those circumstances, that I would have a right to meddle in another's business."

Nita said, "I think you can help me."

Wentworth shook his head. "Only you can help yourself," he said, "but it may be that someone else could help you find the way."

The whole text is a great example of how wonderfully realized of a character Nita van Sloan is in ways so unlike the typical pulp or superhero girlfriends at the time, because the text is written from her perspective, and half of the text reads like an extended character breakdown of who Nita is as a character and person. And the other half of the text is almost entirely comprised of Dick Wentworth spouting philosophy and talking in-depth about his reading of her and what's upsetting her, talking about God and fate and so on. And like so many other attempts to explore serious theological/psychological/philosophical/etc concepts explored through pulp fiction, half of it is bullshit, and half of it is fascinatingly disturbing and thought-provoking bullshit.

"Self-contempt," Wentworth's words were very quiet now. "Is second only to self-pity among the greater sins. Self-analysis is a dangersous thing. You need so much charity. And any person who is advanced enough to think about himself at all is apt to be over-stern in his judgment of himself."

He said to her, "If you don't honor youself, who will honor you?" And, a few moments later, "There is conceit in ruling others, but none in mastering yourself." And, "There is no arrogance so great as self-righteousness."

Nita clashed with him violently, "You are being self-righteous in judging me!"

Wentworth laughed. "I am speaking only truism. It is you who judge yourself, not I." He was serious, then. "My dear," he said, "I would be presumptuous to try to teach you. No man can teach another. But one who has been along that same trail would be less than a man if he failed to mark certain signposts and certain places where there is water to drink so that another, traveling that same road, may know where another struggled and what he has learned. But, as no man can travel a road for another, so no man can teach another. You must work out your own salvation."

"That sense of separation between the inner and outer self," Nita rushed on, "between yourself and the world ... while you were talking, I could almost feel that difference disappearing. The feeling is gone now, but ..."

"All progress is three steps forward and two back," Wentworth said, slowly, "and this is good because thus all ground is three-times covered and triply learned."

And I should probably clarify by this point that, it's not so much Dick Wentworth talking in this story, as it's Norvell Page himself. In fact, he admits as much in another letter he had sent to his readers that he was prone to talking philosophy by this point.

There was a time when the burden of writing just one more Spider seemed too much to undertake. (After all, the magazine is in it's ninth year!) But I never feel that way any more. I know now that the Spider actually does help people; that there are those who appreciate his idealism even though it is expressed in violence.

Especially in the last half dozen Spiders, beginning with the 100th I believe, I have tried very earnestly to teach a little of the philosophy and faith, of which we all need so much in these days.

Here's the thing about The Spider: It's not that the character is mad. Well, okay, he IS mad, I don't pull these over-the-top maniacal cartoon meme descriptions out of thin air, but that's because he lives in a batshit insane disaster horror world where there IS no sane response other than joining the carnage to overcome it. It's not just that Wentworth who is a madman. It's that Norvell Page was a mad man, and Dick Wentworth was Norvell's Page alter-ego, by the man's own admission.

Friends have informed me that I moved about the company as one in a trance: there were some who were concerned about my health, so oddly did I behave. Of course, only my body attended that occasion. My mind was entirely engrossed in Dick Wentworth's big problem - back in my study on a sheet of paper stuck in my typewriter

I did not dream that night; in the morning I restlessly paced my floor thinking, thinking, thinking. I sat down at the typewriter, stared at the words and the keys. Suddenly, as if by magic, Dick Wentworth seemed to move of his own volition. My hands raised, my fingers literally flew over the keyboard.

No matter how ridiculous it seems, I will always feel that Dick Wentworth, creature of my own fabrication, guided me through that tough scene.

No two people can live together without being influenced by each other to some extent. So constantly has Wentworth been in my mind, it is as if we were roommates - partners in everything.

Page has talked about how close of a connection he feels to the character, about many ways he's emulated his mannerisms, even some pretty embarassing anectodes where he claims to have "accidentally" used the character's "indomitable will" to scare waiters or drawing connections between The Spider's cast and real people he's met. Others who met him remarked that he talked of the "Spider" characters as though they were members of his family, or drinking companions.

Even before I got into The Spider, I had heard of rumors that he used to present or discuss stories in his office by putting on a cape and jumping from desk to desk, swinging a yard stick in his hand, and I can't find any source that confirms it, but I don't doubt it in the slightest. A lot of pulp writers had really weird lives, and Page was no exception. He was a journalist who frequently dug into his newspaper clippings for grisly stories to incorporate into narratives. I mean, just look at the dude's eyes, he's seen some shit.

When he was 3, his mother fell down a manhole while they were walking down a Chicago sidewalk. Norvell, terrified, thought she had dissappeared and never quite got over the experience.

When he was a little older, according to some family members, his parents had tickets for the Titanic and escaped disaster when Norvell begged them to cancel the trip for reasons unknown.

Norvell again played a hand in the family's escaping disaster when, one Christmas the family home caught on fire. Candles on the tree had been left burning. He quite arguably saved everyone's life. Waking first, he threw his mattress out of his window, grabbed his infant brother and sister and ran screaming through the hall as he went back to jump to safety. His screams woke his parents who then jumped to the mattress themselves.

Norvell lied about his age and experience to the Norfolk "Observer", claiming to have been writing for Richmond's "Times Dispatch" and was hired there.

His father managed Thomas Edison & Hugo Wurlitzer's ad accounts, and had always encouraged him to write, envisioning him as another Poe, whom his Great-Uncle had worked with as an editor

It is rumored that, in NYC, while at the "World Telegram", he became involved in fellow editor Varion Fry's effort to rescue artists and scientists from occupied Europe. President of the American Fiction Guild, he edited their newsletter for some time. Among his closest friends were fellow writers Ted Tinsley and L. Ron Hubbard and Surrealist painter Max Ernst.

WRITER'S REVIEW 35.08: Norvell W. Page, whose bloodthirsty Spider novels would do justice to Ghengis Khan, demonstrated his bloodlust the other day by accidentally killing a sparrow.

He wrote until 1943, when he abruptly stopped without warning. He dissappeared, for all intents and purposes, from both New York, the arts world and the pulp world for good.

His wife of 20 years, Audrey, had died and this, along with the U.S. involvment in WWII, led to his returning to VA where he would go on to be an intelligence worker in the Truman, Kennedy and Eisenhower Administrations.

He died suddenly of a heart attack in August of 1961.

Surviving family members do not know where he is buried.

I think this is a story that Page might have told differently had he written it earlier in his career, before he got tired, before he underwent his depression and loss of weight that caused him to briefly stop writing pulps all together, in a time period before the World War had cast an oppressive miasma on the world. In a time period where most of the horrifying nightmares he infused into the stories were really just that, nightmares, that he didn't live long enough to see turn into prophecies.

Because that's another thing about The Spider that makes the character more than just a batshit vigilante: As over-the-top as the stories were, a lot of them also inevitably turned out to predict some form of catastrophe in real life.

Written with an eye to the horrors festering in Germany at the time, The Mayor of Hell now reads as an infernal vision of the Homeland Security Act.

The poisoned products found in The Red Death Rain and The Pain Emperor call to mind the Tylenol killings of the summer of 1982, and the hundreds of poisoned products cases that followed.

Bio-terrorism plays large in the Spider mythos, with bubonic plague in Wings of the Black Death, rabies in The Mad Horde, and cholera in The Cholera King foreshadowing the Anthrax scare of 2001. The same could be said of the terror gases from Kingdom of Doom and Green Globes of Death and the nerve gas attack in the Tokyo subways in March of 1995.

Masters of the Death Madness unfolds as a nightmare meditation upon suicide, which has become one of the principal weapons of modern terrorists. One scene involves suicide bombers.

Another scene chillingly presages the Jonestown massacre of 1978: a grand procession lines up to drink from a bowl of poisoned wine while surrounding gunmen pick off anyone who refuses to drink.

The modern reader will recognize the psychological and sociological effects of a citizenry living under the threat of terrorism, so chillingly evoked by Page: the grating loss of safety, the imminent threats lurking in familiar objects, the way security can no longer be taken for granted, the kind of skittishness that empties a building at the first sign of an unknown white powder.

The eeriest of all the modern terrorist parallels appears in a novel called The City Destroyer, originally published in 1936. It features a set piece involving the collapse of a fictitious gigantic building, supposedly the tallest in New York City, called “The Sky Building.” When it fell, it wiped out five city blocks and claimed 1,000 lives. And perhaps it’s worth noting a further parallel that occurred in the 1970’s, when Pocket Books tried to revive the Spider; they repackaged him in a paperback series, striving for an image of what was then cool and thrusting Richard Wentworth into a contemporary setting.

When Pocket Books reprinted and updated The City Destroyer in 1975, the collapse of the Sky Building was replaced with the collapse of the World Trade Center - Stuart Hopen's essay on The Spider

Regardless of how much reality Page was infusing into his stories (because, again, he took a lot of his material from newspapers) or how much he foresaw intentionally or not, writing The Spider definitely took it's toll on him, and as the magazine neared it's final stretch with him on the helm, certain parts did began taking a more philosophical or religious tone, as more of Page's own beliefs, more of Page's attempts to use it as a vehicle to do good, began to bleed through the page.

And ultimately I think that's also what the story of Dick and Nita's first meeting is about, sort of an extended analysis not just of Nita, who Page himself said was a character he conceived as "the epitome of womanhood" and everything he thought admirable about it, but also of Wentworth's own character, and the things Page wanted to get through in his time.

Religion crept deeper into the series with each succeeding year. By all accounts, Norvell Page was a man of deep faith and spirituality who just happened to be writing the exploits of a hero whose idea of mercy was a bullet in the brain instead of the stomach.

In the 100th novel, Death and The Spider, Wentworth battles Death itself - or so it seems - and on Christmas Eve, he is shot so badly while protecting the President from assassination that everyone believes he's dead - including himself.

Dead or not, he forces himself to fight on, sustained only by reciting the 23rd Psalm over and over again.

Nita laughed and accepted a cigarette. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Don't," Wentworth's voice was sharp. "I told you I am only a channel. Don't confuse me with the Source."

It stopped words on Nita's lips, and it gave here a new respect and a new and sudden attitude toward this man beside her, this man who could laugh and jest with everyone about him, and who could teach like a very oracle ... and who carried about him such a sense of dedication to high purpose. He might seem apart from the world, but he was utterly and completely of it.

Nita said, half-laughing, half-serious, "May I like you? And may I admire your ... adjustment?"

"Don't envy my adjustment," he grinned at her. "Have one yourself." He snapped flame to her cigarette with his lighter, and his lean, strong hand was steady and sure as his eyes, as his voice. He was speaking to her but he was looking at the lighter. "I have found my mission," he said quietly.

[breitzbachbea]

☕ your ocs

I love the dumbasses. That's it -

Send me a ☕ and I'll talk how I feel about it

Okay, so, I've been writing since I've been ten or so. Probably tried to tell stories even longer. I had a BUNCH of OCs over the years, but retired all of them other than the LFLS ones. I still sometimes think of my old fanfictions and attempts at original work, but have zero interest in reviving any of it. One day I'll however write an essay on how my Card Kingdom Stories/Universe was definitely the Predecessor to the Like Father Like Son Universe.

I've had the current fuckers since 2013. My earliest OCs that are still in use are probably either my Hetalia City OCs (who've made it into LFLS as secret agents & police officers) or my Ireland, Northern Ireland and Wales OC. I can't remember how big the list I made in Excel is, but I think it was around 240 OCs. (Not sure if that is before or after detracting Hetalia canon characters or my friends' OCs for the AU. Hugo is Jonah's OC and Jani is responsible for pretty much all of the Icelanders in LFLS).

I love the kids so much and how different they are. I love how Hetalia lays the groundwork for me to explore the world we live in. Team Turkey is a Turk, a Kurd and an Assyrian! Team Belgium consists of Agnés Reynard, Charlotte Biayenda, whose a trans woman from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and Luus Ratu Kikkert, a Dutch trans woman whose family came to the Netherlands from Indonesia generations ago! (She's the youngest sister of the Dutch right hands! Tim and Agnés are still brother and sister in the LFLS Universe). Team Belgium likes to go to the Place du Luxembourg on the weekends to fuck shit up, rub shoulders with lobbyists and parlamentarians and have a good time! Cocktail baby gay, Shots Older Sister and Wine Aunt are on the loose!

I could talk about every OC at least for two minutes, even if they're underdeveloped or THAT much of a sidecharacter that I can only give you very basic infos, some anecdotes or their general character concept. If they're very developed, god help us all because we'll be here for hours. (Help girl, I have concepts for the Norwegians, Danish, Egyptians and one Persian & Iraqui already. We'll work on the other half of these two teams when I did the barest of research on the region and characters). I'm having so much fun using my story as a vehicle to learn about the world and using what I learn about the world, its history and cultures to flesh out my universe & turn it into interesting stepping stones to exploring personalities & relationships.

Also hey, you don't even have to know my OCs to ask me about them, you can ask "Who's Team [Nation]?" or "What about [Nationality] subordinates?" Now, there's a lot of Hetalia characters I don't have OCs to accompany (yet), but especially in Europe, you could get lucky.

I fundamentally just love people. I love us in every shape and size we come in, I love how much we love and how much we hate each other. I love the Hetalia characters, I love the transformative aspect of fanfiction where I try to adhere as close as canon as possible while tweaking it for the AU - So I also then love to give them found families that explore facets of their country they simply cannot be. (e.g. Team Turkey, but also Adriana as Black American and Amitola [Name probably changing some point] as Wiyot Person. Selim, as person born to Turkish parents in Germany, is another favourite example.) More importantly, I like the creative freedom that isn't bound by the laws of Hetalia or anyone else, for that matter. They get to be anything I want them to be, without any further qualifications. It's the freedom of original fiction, which I love just as much as the fanfiction aspect. My kids give me the best of both worlds.

Thanks for asking, Shai! Also, if anyone is more curious about the kids, my storie nostre tag is all about them! Includes reblogs of posts that I feel represent them & my own writing with them. Every character also has their own tag.

[littlemisslol-fic]

Summary: Twelve years ago, the Kingdom of Corona fell after the demon Zhan Tiri infected the minds of its people. The only survivor was Princess Rapunzel..

.Or so they thought.

An amnesiac orphan named Varian, struck by the need to branch out on his own, follows a mysterious necklace towards what he knows must be his missing family. On the way he scoops up three companions: a young ex-noble named Nuru, a fiery boy called Yong, and, to top it off, a handsome rogue named Hugo. Together they travel for Vardaros, unaware of the demons dogging Varian's heels.

Zhan Tiri, after all, isn't finished with her revenge.

Notes: Hey all! Gunna preface by saying that is is a present for my beautiful friend jjgg_art for her birthday! Hope it was a good one, babe ❤️❤️This is her Anastasia AU, written out! She drew art for it a while ago and it lived rent-free in my brain, so here it is!

(Be warned though, she’s LONG)

 They say that good things were never meant to last.

 The kingdom of Corona, in the peak of its life, was beautiful. It was the city of light, a towering monolith of white marble and shining gold. Its spires raised high into the always-blue skies, like white crests on perfect waves. It was a city of golden wonders, of joy and love and contentment unknown through the Seven before.

 But it was never meant to go on forever.

 Like gold eventually tarnishes, or limestone wears away with the pounding surf, Corona eventually fell. The royal family, led by King Frederic and his wife, Queen Arianna, had grown compliant. Weak. Beneath the shining veneer, Corona was beginning to crack.

 And into the cracks, slipped the darkness.

 It was said that Zhan Tiri herself had seen the prosperity of Corona, had seen the glittering spires and sunny skies, and had grown jealous of the city. In turn, she sent down an army led by her three disciples, to rage through the city without mercy. They targeted many, but above all the royal family had been the ones most as risk.

 It happened on a cold winter’s night, one where the Coronian royals were hosting a Ball to celebrate the end of another year. The crown princess Rapunzel, only twelve at the time, had been the light of the party, dancing through the crowds with an ease that seemed almost natural. She weaved through the crowd, her brunette hair bobbing softly with the motions. The princess hummed to herself, scanning the crowd with a curious eye. The adults around her danced with perfect timing, even as she scooted past them in a flurry of purple fabric. Green eyes widened when she caught sight of a familiar head of black hair, nearly swallowed up by the crowds.

 A small bag of velvet was in her hands. Her grip tightened on it, her smile widening as she beelined towards the other end of the ballroom. Her quarry was hiding near a large pillar of white marble, his blue eyes wide as he looked at all the people.

 “Varden!” She cooed, startling the child in front of her. He couldn’t have been older than six, the boy still almost a toddler with how much baby fat was still in his cheeks. The boy caught sight of her, his baby face breaking out into a wide smile that scrunched his cheeks and eyes.

 “Hi ‘Punzie!” He said, holding his arms out. Rapunzel smiled, hugging him tightly. When the split, the black haired boy looked around the ballroom with a nervous face. “Have you seen my daddy?” He asked, “I can’t find him…”

 “I’m sure he’s around,” Rapunzel soothed, “Besides, I have something for you!”

 The boy’s blue eyes went wide, his worry immediately forgotten. “For me?!” he gasped. Rapunzel nodded, handing him the velvet bag with a grin.

 “I know you’re sad about my family and I going on that trip to Vardaros,” she said, trying to ignore how his little face fell at the reminder, “So, I thought this might help with the wait!”

 He opened the gift with small hands, looking curiously as a small box fell out as he tipped the bag into his waiting palm. Rapunzel took his hand, holding up a small pendant in the shape of the Corona Sun.

 “See, watch,” She cooed to him, inserting the small key into a slot on the side. She turned it with three gentle movements, watching the boy’s face as it lit up with delight. As Rapunzel removed the pendant from the music box it opened, playing a little tune. Varden gasped as a little automation within began to move, slowly miming out fighting invisible enemies. Rapunzel smiled as he watched the little dance, holding the music box close. She hummed along to the tune the music box played, slowly coaxing him into singing along with her.

 “Soon you'll be, home with me,” She sang to the tune. Varden’s voice floating along with hers, “Once upon a December,”

 “Wow, Punzie!” He said softly, “It’s our lullaby!”

 She smiled as the box finished its song, the little lid closing tightly. She passed him the necklace, smiling as he put it on “Exactly,” she said, hugging him tightly as he leaned into her side. “So you’ll never forget how much I love you, even when we’re apart.”

 The boy’s face split into a massive grin, small hands hugging the box close. “Thank you!” He chirped, “Thank you so much!”

 Rapunzel went to say something else, but was cut off by a sudden, loud scream. Both her and Varden startled at the loud noise, turning towards the door. Both of them gasped at the sight of the doors slamming open, the hallways beyond consumed in flames. People from the town swarmed inside, holding weapons high as they flooded the ballroom. The guests screamed, backing away as the mob attacked, quickly overwhelming anyone in their way.

 Rapunzel shrieked, covering Varden’s eyes at the first sign of blood.

 Things happened quickly after that, the princess running from the room with her little brother in tow as chaos broke. Varden yelped as he was pulled along, barely keeping up on his short legs. Rapunzel did her best to weave around panicking people, ducking in between legs as people scattered. The fire quickly burned through the halls, filling them with smoke.

 Rapunzel coughed into her free hand, still tugging her brother along. Varden followed without complaint, the boy gripping her hand tight. They both stopped when there was a loud gunshot from nearby, followed by a loud scream from up ahead. Rapunzel skid to a stop, Varden nearly tumbling into her as she frantically searched for a way out. The noise behind them grew louder and louder, angry shouting and screams filling the halls behind them. She frantically looked back and forth, unable to decide which way would be better- the smoke was getting thick, a cloying, irritating thing. She could feel the panic creeping in, moving higher in her throat. She didn’t know what to do.

 “Over here!” A voice called, cutting through the shouting.

 Rapunzel spun on her heel, coming face to face with a young boy, maybe about Varden’s age, peeking out of one of the servant’s hidden entrances in the wall. She gasped in relief as he waved them forwards, disappearing into the wall. She followed, panting for breath as the boy closed the hidden door, sealing them away.

 “C’mon,” the blond boy said, urging them forwards, into the darkness of the secret hallways. “They’re attacking the royalty, you guys have to go!”

  Rapunzel tugged her brother behind her, following the servant boy through the labyrinth within the palace. Her heart raced, the princess cringing as she heard screaming and sobbing coming from the other side of the walls. Smoke still filled the air, though less so. Varden sobbed behind her, sniffling as he followed her with his hand in hers. The music box was between the two of them, held in both their hands.

 Eventually the servant boy led them to an exit to the courtyard, where Rapunzel could see a hot air balloon waiting. Her Aunt Willow was already there, sneaking around. The blond boy waved them away, closing the door behind them once they left the safety of the walls. Rapunzel cringed at the cold, but rushed forward, tugging her brother behind her.

 “Aunt Willow!” She cried. The woman turned, her eyes filling with tears at the sight of them.

 “Children!” The brunette woman cried, “Come on, quickly!”

 Rapunzel ran, reaching the basket and jumping in. Varden tried to follow, but he was too short to easily jump the basket. Rapunzel reached for him, tossing the music box into the basket so she could use both hands, but the princess screamed as a loud bang rattled the courtyard. The balloon shuddered, suddenly lifting off.

 “Wait!” Rapunzel screamed, “Wait, he’s not in yet!”

 Willow was scrambling, trying to catch their cut lines. Rapunzel tried fruitlessly to tug her brother up into the basket, shouting at the exertion. She saw a flash of fuchsia light, the princess gasping as her brother was tugged from her arms, as if grabbed by a force. The boy screamed as he fell, plummeting down to the cobblestone meters below. He vanished into the smoke, going deathly silent.  Rapunzel wailed, unable to tear her eyes away from where he’d disappeared.

 “NO!” She screamed, tears overflowing. The balloon continued to rise, pulling away from the castle properly until they’d left it behind. Rapunzel felt herself be pulled into a hug by Willow, the woman trying to comfort her between her own sobs. The boy was not the only casualty that night, but his was the one that would haunt her. Rapunzel shuddered.

 She held onto the music box in a clawed grip, her tears falling soundlessly onto the porcelain.

 >>>><<<<

 Twelve Years Later

 The cold hit Varian like a slap the second he opened the door.

 With a shudder he pulled his too-large coat closer, trying to sink into the thick layers he’d wrapped himself in. The cold of winter was never easy, but apparently the last decade had been near brutal with the freezing temperatures.

 Varian sighed as he felt a tug at his scarf, the thin fabric nearly choking him as the head of the orphanage yanked on it. He followed the cranky old woman out of the building, his feet quickly sinking into the thick snow.

 “Now, I’ve gotten you a place at a fish cannery, near the port.” Old Lady Crowley was grumbling. Varian went quietly as he was pulled along by the scarf, the other end caught in her iron grip. She kept pulling, guiding the teenager towards the large, wrought iron gate at the side of the property. “You’ll take the left path, do you understand me?”

 “Of course I understand, Ol- Miss Crowley.” Varian said with a roll of his eyes. “Left at the fork, straight until the cannery.” His hand slowly found itself up near the center of his chest, fiddling with a small pendant hanging around his neck. He smiled slightly, unable to help himself as he joked: “I’m an amnesiac, not stupid.”

 “Same thing.” The woman grumbled, unlocking the gate. “And stop fiddling with that stupid thing, it’s just a cheap trinket.”

 Varian pouted at her. “Even if it is, it’s all I have-”

 “From before you arrived here, you’ve told from here to the capital about it.”

 The gate opened with a creak, loud and squealing. Varian flinched at the noise, but straightened when the woman turned to shoo him along.

 “Go on, boy,” Crowley snapped, “You’re going to be late!”

 Varian smiled politely, trying to ignore how she muttered idiot child as he walked past her. The second he was outside the gate, Crowley slammed it shut with a loud bang. Varian spun on his heel, seeing her already leaving towards the orphanage without another word.

 “Goodbye, then,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “See you around, I guess.”

 Varian started forward down the street, grumbling to himself. The snow was thicker outside the orphanage property, coating the ground by nearly two feet. He grunted as he slowly kicked his way through the thick snow, a hand reaching up to grab at his necklace. The metal of the pendant was cold to the touch, a small sun with strange little teeth circling the outside. Varian chanced a look down to it, and saw the little words Together in Vardaros lovingly engraved on the center circle. A soft smile took over his face as the gold glinted in the sun, reflecting brightly.

 “I’ll find you,” he murmured, barely even thinking about what he was saying. “I swear it.”

 When he chanced a look up, he found he was already at the fork in the path. A sign stood tall, pointing in two directions. To the capital, on the right, or to the port, on the left.

 “Left at the fork.” Varian whispered. “And then straight on until I hit the cannery, but… hm.”

 His fingers continued to fiddle with his pendant, blue eyes staring up at the sign in thought. He had enough funds for a train ticket, he knew he did- he’d been saving for months just in case. Varian should go left, he knew- should follow Crowley’s orders like a good little wage slave and sign his life away to a life of packing fish- but something in him screamed at the thought.

 “Left to a stable, agonizing job,” he thought out loud, “Or right, to spending every coin I have on a hunch.”

 On paper, they both sounded terrible.

 Varian fiddled with his pendant again, biting at his lip. A brisk wind blew from behind, making him shudder. “Maybe I should wait for a sign.” He laughed to himself, kicking at the snow. A puff of it got close to the base of the sign. Varian startled as a plume of snow suddenly began to wiggle, a chittering noise coming from the lump.

 The teenager laughed harder as a small, fluffy face popped up from inside the snowdrift. “A raccoon?” He asked himself, “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now, bud? It’s the middle of winter.”

 The raccoon made another little noise, rolling out from under the sign. Varian bent down, reaching out a hand to pet the animal. The raccoon waddled up to him, briefly sniffing his fingers before pushing into the outstretched hand. Varian grinned as he scratched the raccoon behind his ears. The animal purred, content, before suddenly reaching one of his little hands forward and grabbing at Varian’s scarf.

 “Hey!” The teenager cried as the raccoon began to run down the right path, the blue scarf tightly gripped in its teeth. “That’s mine, you little jerk!”

 He stood up, stomping his foot. The ring-tailed thief chittered a laugh at him, still holding the scarf. The teenager huffed, crossing his arms.

 “Will you give that back?” Varian demanded, “I’m waiting for my stupid…”

 He cut himself off, blue eyes flicking from the raccoon to the sign in front of him, and back to the raccoon.

 “…sign.” He breathed. His eyes went wide, looking up to focus on the path to the city. For a second the breath caught in his throat, something in him shocked.

 “Am I crazy?” He asked the raccoon, who only cocked his little head. “Yeah. That’s what I thought too.” He sighed, rubbing at his arms with freezing hands. His gaze fell to the snow, a blanket of white covering his boots. “Together in Vardaros.” He murmured, gaze rising back to look towards the towering spires of what used to be Corona.

 And just like that, he took the first step.

 Once he got started, walking down the path was nearly easy. Soon enough he had left the farmland, the tall trees and rolling, snowy fields quickly replaced by dull, drab buildings and cracked cobblestone. Varian shuddered at the glares a few of the city folk shot him, tugging his coat closer around himself. The raccoon had managed to crawl up onto his shoulders at some point, offering himself as a scarf.

 “Well… Ruddiger,” Varian said, testing out the name and deciding it stuck. “If you were a train station, where would you be?”

 The critter only cooed, playing with the blue stripe in Varian’s hair. The boy laughed gently swatting at his new pet. “Thanks for the help, buddy.” He griped, wandering further into the desolate town. Ever since the royal family had fled, Varian knew, the capital city had been borderline barren. Travel outside the country was heavily restricted, the insurrectionist government of Saporians that had swept in during the power vacuum the royals left behind had made sure of that.

 Varian flinched at a loud scream from a few streets over. He began to hustle, ducking into the train station without looking back. In the warmth of the building he sighed, finally able to relax a little. There were dozens of people in the large building, the bustle of them all making Varian’s head spin. His hand unconsciously went up to his necklace, twisting it with nerves.

 There was a long lineup of people waiting for the single open toll window, Varian quietly took his place, unwilling to meet the eye of anyone around as a few of them glared at him. He nervously reached a hand up to pull at his hat, tugging it down over his hair. Something in him demanded he hide, burrowing deeper into his coat.

 Eventually Varian reached the front of the line, quietly approaching the grumpy looking man behind the glass.

 “Uh, hi!” He said, waving awkwardly. “One, um, one ticket for Vardaros, please?”

 The man arched a brow at the sight of Ruddiger, but quickly turned back to Varian with a scowl. “Papers?” He grunted, holding out his hand.

 “I- I’m sorry?” Varian asked, “What-”

 “Your travel papers, boy.” The man grunted. “No papers, no ticket.” When Varian continued to fumble, the man lost patience and barked, “NEXT!”

 Varian was quickly jostled out of the way, blinking in shock. Sure enough when he looked to a nearby sign, he could see the latest proclamation that in order to cross the border, he’d need government papers.

 “Shit.” He hissed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

 “Pst,” A voice cut through his curses, drawing Varian’s attention to an older woman. “You need papers?” She asked him. Varian nodded, tugging his coat closer as she waved him towards her.

 “Go to Hugo,” she whispered, leaning close with a conspiratorial smile. “He lives in the old palace. If you need papers, he can acquire them. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

 “Oh!” Varian quickly nodded, backing away as she shooed him off. “Okay, thank you!”

 “You didn’t hear it from me!” The woman repeated, disappearing into the crowd. Varian watched her go, biting on the inside of his lip. For a second more he stared, nervously, in the middle of the train station. Ruddiger chittered, pulling on his hair, snapping Varian from his daze.

 “Alright,” Varian shook his head, moving for the door. If he needed papers, he’d get those papers. He opened the door, stepping back onto the street. The cold was bitter, angry and painful against his warmed skin. Varian shuddered at the temperature change, but still twisted on his heel so he could look up to the crumbling ruins of the castle. He felt a smile creep across his face, the teenager starting off towards the decrepit building. As he walked, he couldn’t help but reflect on what the woman had told him. He muttered to himself as he moved, determination crossing every footstep. His voice was lost to the wind, but the words were still light in the early afternoon sun.

 “Hugo, huh?”

   >>>><<<<

 If there was ever a time Hugo was regretting his career choices, it was probably now.

 He looked in abject horror at the long list of applicants he, Nuru, and Yong had put together. Every. Single. One. Was crossed out.

 “None of them worked out?” He groaned, looking to Nuru with beseeching eyes. She shook her head with frustration, her dark skin pulling around her eyes as she frowned.

 “Not a one,” she sighed. “They either didn’t look like the lost lord, or didn’t act the part.” None of them were a good Varden, and it was driving Hugo up the wall.

 “This plan isn’t going to work unless we can find a boy to play the part,” Hugo griped, rubbing at his face. “We’re screwed unless we figure it out. Nuru, if we can’t find a guy-”

 “Then we can’t con a grieving woman out of her money, Hugo, I know,” Nuru snapped. Hugo sighed, rolling his eyes. Morals, bah.

 “Don’t make it sound so terrible,” he replied, “If her majesty Princess Rapunzel is dumb enough to offer a reward for a kid who died twevle years ago, then it’s on her. We need out of the country she abandoned, that’s not our fault.”

 Nuru groaned. They’d had this discussion countless times, each one ending the same way.

 “I still don’t like it,” she whispered, “It’s a terrible thing to do.”

 “I think Nuru’s right!” A third voice piped up. Nuru and Hugo snapped from their glaring match to look at Yong. Their third companion was sitting cross legged nearby, fiddling with what was definitely dynamite. Hugo scoffed, shaking his head.

 “Don’t blow anything up,” he chided, before turning back to Nuru. “And if you both feel that way, then have fun starving to death in this shithole city! You don’t have to come along.”  

 That shut them up. Hugo sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Guys, listen," he said, “I know it’s a little… morally grey, but just think of the money! We get a boy to play the part of Varden, we take him to Vardaros, we get the coin, and we’re set for life. No more scrapping for food, no more fighting to survive, just cupcakes and caviar for the rest of our days!”

 The abandoned castle around them groaned in the raging winds. Nuru shuddered against the cold, shaking slightly in the bitter air. Hugo crossed his arms, cocking his head. He knew he was right, and was certain she knew it as well. The younger girl finally scoffed, crossing her arms.

 “I still don’t like it,” she muttered, looking away with a glare as Hugo smiled at her admission.

 “And you can cry about it in a palace,” he shot back, “Instead of a dump like this.”

 Nuru scoffed, but finally let it drop. Hugo looked back to the list, almost a hundred crossed out names staring back at him.

 “Well, like I said, we’re screwed if we can’t find a boy to play our prince,” he griped. “I guess we’ll have to put out more applications.”

 “I don’t know if there’s anyone left to apply,” Yong piped up from his place on the floor. “We’ve been at this for days.”

 “There’s gotta be someone,” Hugo grunted, “I know it-”

 He was cut off as a loud clatter rang through the abandoned halls of the old palace. All three of them tensed, looking towards the entrance to the grand ballroom, where the noise had come from. Unfortunately, the old castle had had more than one squatter over the years, and the three of them were only the most recent occupants.

 “Shit,” Hugo said, “Must be looters again.”

 “I can take care of it!” Yong cheered, holding his dynamite high. “I think I finally got the burn ratios right-”

 “No.” Nuru interrupted, “No you will not be taking care of them.” Hugo snickered, until her amber eyes landed on him. “Hugo will be,” she said with a smirk.

 “Wha-“ Hugo spluttered as Nuru’s smile went sharp, “Fine. But I don’t want to hear another room about bullshit morals for at least a week.”

 “Fine,” Nuru grinned like she’d won something. Though she probably had, from the way Hugo ended up walking for the door. On the way he scooped up a crowbar, specifically used for that purpose and an old friend, at that point. He grumbled to himself as he shoved at the door, entering the ballroom on silent feet. He tried to ignore the eyes on his back as he walked past a portrait of the royal family, their unblinking gaze settling on his shoulders as he hustled into the ballroom properly.

 It was a large space, towering and opulent even in ruin. Large windows lined both of the longer walls, bathing the room in the light of the setting sun. It bounced off the dusty floors, shining off tarnished gold and illuminating the cloth covered silhouettes of furniture long since left to time. Hugo hated being in the ballroom, it was always drafty and definitely haunted; the revolution had started here, he knew, and the large stains of long dried blood that marred the marble floors was enough to prove that.

 He shuddered, moving further into the room. Over the calls of the freezing winds though broken windows he could hear shuffling footsteps, accompanied by…

 “Is that humming?” He whispered to himself, already more confused than where he’d started.

 Sure enough, drifting along in the quiet ballroom, was an unmistakably male voice humming along to a lullaby sort of tune. Green eyes scanned the ballroom, finally landing on a short, small figure standing across the room. Hugo scowled, marching forwards, but paused as the shorter teen skimmed his hand along a covered table.

 “Soon, you’ll be,” the boy murmured to himself, “Home with me, once upon a December.” His thin fingers trailed across the table, his blue gaze a million miles away.

 Hugo scoffed, rolling his eyes.

 “Hey!” He shouted, “You wanna scram? This party’s invite-only!”

 The stranger startled, whirling around to look at Hugo with wide eyes. Hugo couldn’t help but appraise for a second- the guy was cute, even in the ill-fitting jacket and wrapped in fifty layers… and what was with the raccoon?- but with the big hood it was nearly impossible to see much of him. A pair of brass goggles, beaten but obviously well loved, were perched on his head.

 “Sorry!” The black-haired teen said, “Sorry, sorry, I’m looking for uh- Hugo? I think that was his name…”

 “Who’s asking?” Hugo barked. He set the crowbar down on the table, getting close enough that he could see the smattering of freckles on the stranger’s cheeks. He also noted, with a smug grin, that the other teenager was nearly a head shorter than him.

 “My name’s Varian,” the intruder said. “I was told that a guy named Hugo lives here, and that he can help me with travel papers-”

 “Ah- quiet!” Hugo hissed, “Do you want the guards knowing about all that?”

 Varian perked up, grinning slyly. “So you are Hugo, then?”

 “I- shit, yeah alright,” Hugo groaned, feeling a headache brewing. “I’m Hugo, but I can’t help you right now. I’m busy.”

 Varian’s face fell, before sinking into a pout. “You don’t understand,” he said, “I have to get to Vardaros, it’s important!”

 Hugo only shrugged, he didn’t have time for this, not with the search for someone to play their Varden. “Sorry, Sweetcheeks,” he bemoaned, smirking at the frustrated expression on Varian’s face at the nickname. “Got places to go, people to see.” He spun on his heel, walking back towards where he’d left Yong and Nuru.

 “Wait!” Varian ran after him, the shorter boy skidding to a stop between Hugo and the painting of the ex-royals. “Wait- please, I just need the travel papers, and I’ll be out of your hair!”

 His hood had fallen off in the scramble, hair wild as it escaped from under the hood. Hugo paused at the streak of blue cutting through the black like a slash of light through a midnight sky. His eyes moved from Varian’s frantic face and up to the painting behind him- specifically on the visage of the missing lord.

 Oh.

 Bingo.

 “That’s too bad,” Hugo shrugged, reaching into his pocket. “Because I’m busy looking for the lost lord, and these-” he pulled a set of four tickets out with a flourish, “Are for his royal highness, myself, and my companions, so that we can take him to his sister in Vardaros.”

 Varian’s eyes locked on the tickets. Hugo’s grin widened. Gotcha.

 “Of course, we haven’t found him yet- say you look a lot like Lord Varden yourself, don’t you?”

 Varian looked dumbstruck for a second. His hand was fiddling with a pendant around his neck, some weird circle looking thing, but Hugo could see the curiosity in his eyes. Now to lock it in.

 “What makes you say that?” Varian asked.

 The blond gestured towards the painting, stepping up beside Varian with a flourish. “Why, just look!” Hugo said. “You’re practically the spitting image. The hair, the eyes- I can practically see Lady Ulla’s nose!”

 Varian let out a loud laugh, crossing his arms as he too turned and looked the painting in the eye. Now that Hugo could see Varian and Varden side by side, he really could see the similarities in the face, hell even the stripe in his hair. He’d be perfect.

 “As if,” Varian scoffed. “I’m just… just some orphan. There’s nothing special about me, and I’m not some lost Lord.”

 “Who says you can’t be?” Hugo argued, his grin only widening as Varian began to look more and more nervous. “What, don’t you remember?”

 “I don’t," Varian muttered. “This is going to sound crazy; I was found when I was six, with no idea about who I was or where I came from. I was just wandering around the city by myself, the only thing I have left is this.”

 He held up the pendant, the gold catching the light. “I mean, sure,” Varian kept going, focusing intently on his painted twin. “Every lost little boy wants to think he’s a prince, that’s a given. But there’s no way I am who you think I am.”

 Hugo tapped at his chin, playing dumb. Time to give a little slack, he thought to himself, forcing his shoulders into a casual shrug.

 “Well, if you’re sure,” he said, once again walking away. Varian stayed in front of the painting this time, almost unable to move away from the image of the lost lord. Hugo slowed his pace, not looking back but mentally counting down as he got further away.

 Sure enough, a self-satisfied smirk crawled across his face as he heard hurried footsteps chasing after him.

 “Hugo!” Varian’s voice echoed through the abandoned ballroom, “Hugo, wait!”

 “Need something, Sweetcheeks?” Hugo asked as he turned around to face a nervous Varian.

 “Maybe- okay, do you really think that I might be the lost lord?” Varian fidgeted with his pendant again, biting his lip. “Because, I don’t remember my family, but I know they’re in Vardaros, and you said that the princess is in Vardaros, right, so maybe… maybe it’s not a coincidence?”

 Something smug settled in Hugo’s gut. The blond smiled, wrapping an arm around Varian’s shoulders. “I’m almost positive,” he assured the nervous boy. “In fact, think of it this way. Either you are Varden, in which case you find your family and all that garbage, or, if I’m wrong, you’re in the right place to start looking for them.”

 Varian’s face lit up at that, his hand finally dropping the necklace in favour of spinning out of Hugo’s grip.

 “I- okay!” He chirped, already outpacing Hugo. “Okay, yeah, let’s give it a try!”

 The blond watched him go, the younger of them already moving up the stairs and towards where Yong and Nuru were. Hugo smiled, something sneaky and smug at Varian’s retreating back, already planning out exactly how he was going to spin this. He focused on his new cohort with barely contained glee, already imagining the piles of gold Varian would fetch them from the Princess.

 It was because of that focus, that he completely missed a flash of bright fuchsia from up in the rafters of the old ballroom.

>>>><<<<

 They said that evil never slept, but it had certainly been dormant for some time. 

 She wasn’t sure exactly why she had been drawn back to consciousness after almost two decades. It had been some time since she had destroyed the joy of the Coronan princess once and for all. Sure, the princess had survived, but the wake of blood and suffering was more than enough to sate the bloodlust that had tied Zhan Tiri to the human realm.

 But now, she was awake again.

 Zhan Tiri was not a stupid creature, despite what that fool Demanitus had thought. She knew that something had gone wrong with her revenge on Corona for her to be brought back from the dredges between time and space. Conscious again in the swirling void of her realm, Zhan Tiri spurred back to life. When she opened her eyes she saw two figures, her loyal servants, standing by and waiting, just as they had been all those years ago.

 “Tromus,” she greeted, “Sugracha.”

 “Mistress,” they responded, dull and monotonous.

 “Something seems to be stirring, in Corona.” Zhan Tiri murmured, reaching forwards to the air in front of her. With a rip of her claw she tore a gaping wound in the universe, a fracture in space time that allowed her to see the results of her handiwork. A flicking purple portal stood in front of her, showing her glimpses of the human world.

 In this one, she could see the Coronan princess, slouched on a lounging chair, despondent as always. She looked near tears, fiddling with a small music box that Zhan Tiri knew she was unable to open.

 “The princess suffers,” Tromus purred, “As always.”

 Sugracha snickered, content with the result. The image in the portal flickered, switching to the burnt-out shell of Corona Castle. “And Corona is in ruin.” She cooed.

 Zhan Tiri clicked her tongue. The two of them snapped to attention. “We’re awake for a reason, my friends,” the demon murmured. “There’s something not right with our revenge.”

 She searched again, the feeling drawing her towards the interior of the castle. She waved a claw once more, switching the image. It was two young men, one blond, one raven with a blue streak-

 “Ah.” She cooed, “One of them managed to escape us, it seems.”

 For all Zhan Tiri was calm on the outside, on the interior she could feel the rage brewing. How dare that boy escape her, ruin her perfect revenge? The demon grit her teeth, toying with a wisp of magic in the air.

 “That won’t do.” Tromus’ accented voice drifted through the air. “We wanted all of them, save the princess.”

 “The boy will have to be dealt with.” Sugracha agreed. “Wouldn’t want him causing problems.”

 “Hm,” Zhan Tiri allowed a smile to split her face. In the portal, she could see the boy growing acquainted with a small group of other humans. He was the spitting image of his parents; it made the anger in her gnash its teeth like a starving beast. “It seems we have a little insect to squash.”

 Her head tilted towards Tromus, ram’s horns slicing at the swirling cosmos around them. “Tromus,” she said. He snapped to attention, ever the loyal soldier.

 “Yes, my lady?”

 “Take care of the pest, would you?”

 Tromus grinned, allowing himself the luxury of floating forwards in a showy bow, dipping at the waist.

 “Of course, my lady.”

>>>><<<<

 Varian watched the countryside slide by with fascinated eyes. The train was fast, speeding through the countryside at a breakneck pace. He’d never been on a train before, so the whole thing was novel enough to have kept his attention for the first few hours of the trip.

 Their train car rumbled along the tracks, the hissing of steam and whistling of engines faint enough that it wasn’t distracting. Varian bounced slightly in his seat, looking away from the windows and towards his new companions with a smile.

 Nuru and Yong sat across from him, the two of them taking up the bench. Nuru was quietly writing on a few sheets of loose-leaf paper, and a curious eye told Varian she was forging travel papers for them all in a crisp, blue ink. He winced at the legal implications, but still decided not to say anything.

 The door to their left opened, sliding over on its track. Varian looked to see Hugo standing there, brushing his coat off.

 “How are we looking, Nuru?” He asked, shuffling into the cabin. Yong refused to move his feet away, forcing Hugo to step over him. The blond grumbled, throwing himself down onto the seat next to Varian. The shorter boy let out an oomph, grunting as he was jostled.

 “Hey-“ Varian griped, shoving at Hugo. “Watch out!”

 “Oh, so sorry your highness,” Hugo muttered, “I’ll be sure to be more careful next time.”

 Varian grumbled, shoving at Hugo with a grunt. The blond responded by sticking his tongue out, to which the other teenager did the same.

 “Boys,” Nuru snapped. “I’m a little busy here, could we maybe act like adults while I work?”

 Varian sighed, rolling his eyes and slouching back into the bench. The frozen scenery of Corona continued to pass them by, blue eyes watching curiously at the world beyond. Ruddiger purred from his place in Varian’s lap, stretching contentedly when Varian scratched between his ears. Varian fiddled aimlessly with his pendant, letting his mind wander and missing how Hugo and Nuru began to frantically whisper to one another.

 Corona had once been beautiful, apparently, not that Varian could remember it. His fingers buried into Ruddiger’s fur, scratching away as the expanse of white sped on by. For a second he could have sworn he saw a flash of green light from nearby, moving around near the wheels below. Varian sat up straighter, trying to focus on it. What had-

  He was distracted as Hugo stood again, grabbing his bags from the overhead. Nuru was doing the same, as was Yong. Thoughts of the green light fled, especially when he saw how worried the others looked.

 “Are we moving?” Varian asked, arching a brow when Hugo nearly dropped his suitcase.

 “Yep,” Hugo replied. There was something stressed about his tone, but Varian didn’t bother to question it. Instead he stood as well, scooping up his meager shoulder bag and following the other tree as they left the cart.

 “Red,” Nuru muttered bitterly, “Why would they change to red, they’ve been blue forever-”

 Ah.

 Varian groaned, watching her crumple up the half-finished forgeries in clenching hands. “Oh,” he said, “Is that why we’re moving.”   

 Hugo scowled, tugging Yong along gently when the younger boy wasn’t moving fast enough. “It might be, Sweetcheeks,” he said, “We’ve got a plan, though.”

 Varian only scoffed, cocking a hip. “I gotta say, if I am royalty, then you’re not exactly giving me a lot of confidence here-”

 “Guys!” Yong whispered, holding a door open in front of them. “C’mon!”

 Hugo quietly pushed Varian ahead. The shorter of them went quietly, stepping into the cold of the new train car. They were close to the engine now, the noise of it loud in his ears and the rumbling much worse than it had been in the passenger cars. Around them were countless suitcases and bags, even the odd crate or two. Varian looked around apprehensively, clutching Ruddiger tightly.

 “Is… this the baggage compartment?” He asked, biting at his lip. “Are you sure they won’t find us here?”

 “Nope,” Hugo grinned, popping the p.  “But it’s the best we’ve got.”

 “I thought you said you had this all planned out,” Varian grumbled. His hand nervously went to his pendant, twiddling it between his fingers as he tried to stave off the cold. Hugo looked ready to smack him, but Yong distracted them both before anything else could brew.

 “Uh, guys?” He smushed his face against one of the windows of the compartment, looking towards the engine. “I think something’s not right.”

 The train rumbled again, a lurching, unnatural thing that sent all of them toppling to the wooden floor. Varian cried out as his elbow hit the floor first, a shock of pain running up the whole limb. Ruddiger hissed when Varian dropped him, but the boy didn’t have time to apologize before there was another loud bang, and his guts swooped out from under him as the train suddenly picked up a large amount of speed.

 “What the hell is going on?!” Hugo barked, stumbling to his feet. “Have they lost their goddamn minds?!”

 Nuru, standing as well, stared out the small window in the door they’d just entered from, her eyes wide and her skin nearly ashy from lack of blood. She turned to face the boys, and in a flat tone said: “We’ve lost the passenger cars.”

 “What?!” All three of the boys cried at once.

 Nuru didn’t reply, simply opening the door wide. Varian felt his heart sink at the sight of the Coronan wilderness beyond, the rest of the train having come free and was steadily being left a fair way down the track behind them.

 “Well, that can’t be good.” Hugo muttered, already going for the engine car instead. “We’ve got to see if we can stop this thing!”

 Varian was on his feet in an instant, following the blond as they reached the forward end of their car. Hugo ripped the door open, the wind rushing into the baggage car, screaming as it whipped past them. Varian trembled in the sudden cold, clinging tight as he forced his eyes open and stared at the engine. It was glowing a bright, noxious green. He felt his heart sink, watching as Hugo jumped the gap between the two cars. The blond moved to the engine, trying to find a way to stop themselves.

 “How’s it look?” Varian called over the wind, grimacing when Hugo spun around with a worried face.

 “Not-so-great!” The green-eyed man replied, hopping back over to the luggage cart. “It’s all ruined, there’s no way to stop it.”

 “Shit,” Varian gasped. He looked up ahead of them, into the far distance, where the silhouette of a crumbling bridge could be seen.

 A broken bridge.

 “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Varian breathed, reaching out blindly to pat at Hugo’s shoulder. Once he had the blond’s attention he wordlessly pointed to the shattered remains of the bridge, feeling his face drain of blood.

 “Hm,” Hugo grunted. “I can see that developing into a problem.”

 Varian nodded, lost in the shock as he refused to look away from the steadily approaching drop. Hugo dropped to his knees next to Varian, starting to tug at the connection keeping their car attached to the engine.

 “Goggles!” He barked, “Try and find me something I can use to wedge us apart!”

 Varian stuttered to life, turning back into the car with haste. Nuru and Yong were both scattered about, trying to find a way to slow them down. Nuru was throwing a series of weighted chains from the back door, the ends of them snagging on the tracks but not enough to slow down the car. Yong was working on something, a stick of what looked like dynamite held tight in his hands.

 Varian inhaled a quick breath, holding out a hand to Yong. “Can I borrow that?” He asked, his voice oddly calm despite the panic climbing higher in his throat.

 Yong looked up to Varian, then down to the dynamite in his hand. The younger boy looked confused for a second, but still handed it over. “Sure, I guess,” he chirped. “Just be careful!”

 Varian grinned, rushing back to where Hugo was still bashing at the connection with what looked like a screwdriver.

 “I hope you-“ bang, bang, “Found us a hammer, or a crowbar would be better, because this thing doesn’t want to move-“ bang, bang.

 Varian merely leaned over him, holding the dynamite in front of his glasses.

 “Oh,” Hugo said, going slightly cross-eyed as he focused on the explosive. “Yeah, that’ll do.”

 Varian smiled, stepping back as Hugo got to work. He rushed back to Yong and Nuru, waving at them.

 “Hold on to something!” He shouted, ducking behind a crate and pressing his back against it. He caught sight of Nuru grabbing Yong by the hand and dragging him behind another crate before his vision was taken up by green fabric. Hugo slammed into the crate next to Varian, breathing heavily from running to the back of the car, and pressing hard against the wood.

 “Brace!” The taller boy shouted, slamming his hands over his ears. Varian copied him, only just in time before the whole car rattled with a sharp force. He felt a small pain as he bit his own tongue, his body rattling down to the bone with the force of it.

 Varian tasted copper.

 But as quickly as it started, the shaking ended. Varian cracked his eye open and let himself breathe at the sight of slowing trees. He peeked around the crate, eyes widening when he saw the front half of their car totally destroyed, small fires racing up the sides of it. In the far distance, he could see the engine car speeding towards the bridge, getting dangerously close.

 Their car trundled to a stop at last, unable to keep up momentum without the engine car to pull it. Varian saw the engine car hit the bridge in the far distance, before finally shooting off the broken track and into the gorge below. Hugo stood next to him, the two of them watching the massive engine go plummeting over the side only a half-mile away. There was a second of terrible silence, before another explosion rocked the earth, a plume of black smoke starting to rise from the gorge.

 Varian stumbled back, only to be settled by a hand on his upper arm. He leaned into Hugo’s touch, watching the smoke rise in the distance.

 “Well.” Blue eyes focused on the smoke as Varian crossed his arms. “That was fun.”

 Hugo’s hand didn’t move off his arm, but Varian didn’t shove it away.

 “What did they teach you in your orphanage?” Hugo finally asked, “Because whatever it was, it’s very different from mine.”

 And with that, the moment snapped in half.

 Varian scoffed, shoving at Hugo’s hand and spinning on his heel. He walked back into the car, already moving to help Nuru up off the floor. “A thank you wouldn’t hurt!” He called, unaware of how Hugo’s eyes followed him as he left.

 And, oddly enough, unaware of the blush that scattered across Hugo’s cheeks.

>>>><<<<

 “If you’re going to convince them to meet with you, you’ll need some formal training.” Nuru said, tapping at her chin.

 Varian looked up from the book he’d been reading, an eyebrow arched. “I don’t know,” he said with apprehension, “I don’t think I have the disposition for the royal way of doing things.” He snorted at the thought, turning back to his book, only to have it gently taken from his hands.

 “Hey-”

 Nuru didn’t seem phased, shutting the book with a snap. “If you have no training, they won’t even let you meet with the prince-consort, let alone agree to see the princess.” Her smile was sharp, obviously delighting in being the one in charge. Varian paused, mulling it over.

 “I… I guess that’s fair.” He said, biting at his lip. One of his hands went again to the pendant, tugging at the chain. “But I don’t even know where to start.”

 Nuru’s grin got wider, her arms going behind her back.

 “Welcome to royalty boot camp,” she said, “I’ll be your guide.”

 Varian laughed, allowing her to take his hand. She pulled him to his feet, settling her hands on her hips as she appraised him. Seeming to find what she was looking for, her face split into a warm grin.

 “Now,” she began, “You were born in a palace by the sea…”

 The next few days were a whirlwind of rules- Varian felt his head spin with every new piece of information, each new rule, but he did his best to keep everything straight.

 Back straight, head up-

 When addressing a count you will call them-

 Your sixth great-uncle was named Ivan-

 It was a flurry of names and history, but it never was too much. Somehow it felt less like learning something new and more like re-building a puzzle- like the pieces had always been there, but only now the image was starting to come through. Varian tried not to dwell on it, grateful for the fact that the information at least was easy to learn.

 The trip was tiring, but worth it as they slowly hiked their way towards the coast. Hugo had told him that they’d reach the coast in the next day, and then it would be a simple boat ride to reach Vardaros. Varian could feel the excitement settle in his bones, the promise of finally reaching the place he’d been aiming for after all these years.

 And, to be honest all the trivia was kind of fun, too

 “And remember to mention that your second cousin, Elbert, would invite you and your father to his estate for a few weeks every summer.” Nuru told him as they all sat upon a large carriage. It trundled down a dirt path, slowly but surely getting closer to their destination. The costal city around them was buzzing with people, the air warm and smelling of salt.

 “Oh, yeah.” Varian said, tapping at his chin. “Didn’t he have an orange cat? I think it was really fat, right?”

 Nuru paused, glancing at Hugo. The blond looked stricken, blinking. Nuru shrugged, and then turned back to Varian.

 “That’s right,” she chirped, before leaning over to Hugo. “Did you teach him that?” She whispered, “Because I didn’t.”

 “I thought you did,” Hugo replied, the two of them staring at each other with a small shock. There was no way… right?

 “Oh!” Varian’s voice cut through their confusion. “Guys, look, it’s the port!”

 Sure enough, their carriage had pulled into the port properly. It was busy out, as expected, but Varian couldn’t help but be excited as they stepped off the carriage and onto the cobblestones. Hugo tugged him along by the elbow, dragging Varian behind him as he walked further into the port.

 “Where’s the boat?” Hugo asked Nuru, who only shrugged.

 “I think it’s this way,” she replied, heading off into the crowd. Yong followed her, used to keeping himself from getting lost in big crowds. It seemed Varian didn’t have that skillset yet, as he was forced to keep close to Hugo so he wouldn’t get lost. The blond didn’t seem phased at the close contact, instead leisurely throwing an arm around Varian’s shoulders.

 Eventually Nuru found the ship, a massive, metal steamboat made for forcing its way up the lakes and rivers leading to Vardaros. Varian had never seen such a huge boat, his eyes went wide at the sight of it. Hugo and the others seemed unphased, simply walking up the gangplank like they owned the place.

 “Gotta pretend to belong,” Hugo had told him once, “Or else everyone will see you for exactly what you are.”

 The ship gently rolled beneath his feet, the wood of the decking polished and clean despite being old. Varian leaned back a little, taking in the sun on his skin. Corona had been cold since the fall of the royal family, to feel the sun like this was a rarity these days. He leaned against the railing of the ship, letting the warmth sink deep-

“Ey, Sweetcheeks!”

 Oh, Hugo.

 Varian opened one eye, tilting his head to look as the blond approached. He had something tucked under his arm, tied together with string in a little bow. Hugo had a grin across his face, one that only widened when Varian opened his other eye and focused on him.

 “I got you a little something the other day,” Hugo said, holding out the bundle. It looked like it was made of teal fabric, a jacket maybe? Varian blinked, holding out his hands wordlessly as Hugo shoved the present at him.

 “I- thank you?” He said, the words coming out more as a question than something grateful. Hugo’s smile cracked into a smirk, worming across his face.

 “Well,” he said, “You can’t exactly meet her majesty looking like the common rabble, can you?”

 Varian laughed, holding the present closer to him. “Okay, moment’s ruined,” he snickered, “Thank you, Hugo.”

 He tried to ignore how Hugo lit up at the praise, the faintest smattering of a blush crossing his pale skin. Varian felt his own face rush with red, and he quickly pushed himself off the railing and held the gift close.

 “I’m going to go try it on,” he said, bolting for the cabins. He hoped that Hugo hadn’t seen him getting flustered, but as he changed, he couldn’t help but blush harder. Varian caught his reflection in the mirror, biting his lip at the sight of a teal vest, dark pants, and a billowing white shirt. He’d never owned anything so nice before, let alone something that looked so nice on… him. Varian turned away from the mirror, coughing to cover up how flustered he felt. He quickly left the cabin, returning to the deck.

 He caught sight of Nuru and Yong, the two of them laughing as they spun together. There was a small quartet of men with instruments, other passengers Varian would assume, playing a jovial tune. He laughed as Nuru and Yong went spinning past him, jumping back to avoid their path. Varian clapped along to the beat of the music, watching the dancers with a large grin.

 He felt a presence sidle up next to him, and looked over to see Hugo. The blond was avoiding his eye, leaning against the railing. Varian arched a brow, quickly putting the pieces together. His face split into a wry grin, grabbing one of Hugo’s hands.

 “Dance with me!” He said, tugging Hugo along into the circle. Green eyes went wide, Hugo putting up a bit of a fight but nowhere near as much of one that Varian knew he could. Hugo eventually went along with it, placing his hands onto Varian’s waist and following as the other dancers spun in a circle. Varian smiled, tossing his arms around Hugo’s neck and letting himself be led.

 The music slowed a little, the beat turning into more of a waltz. Hugo rolled his eyes, but Varian noted how his hands never left Varian’s waist.

 “Okay, Sweetcheeks,” he said, “Just gotta make a box- yeah, see, you get it. We’ll make a dancer of you yet.”

 Varian pouted, taking the chance to accidentally step on Hugo’s foot. The blond winced, his face squishing in mild pain. Varian snickered, biting at his lip as Hugo playfully glared back.

 “Haha,” he griped, “You must think you’re very funny.”

 Varian laughed, nodding. “I’m hilarious,” he said, “It’s not my fault you just can’t see it.”

 They continued to bicker back and forth, slowly drawing closer until they were only inches apart. Neither noticed that the other dancers had stopped, and that the music had drifted away until it was only a single violin player left. Their world had narrowed down to each other, the quiet sass and laughter they shared.

 Nuru, nearby, smiled knowingly as she gently pushed Yong downstairs, leaving them alone.

 Boys, honestly.

>>>><<<<

 Hugo woke up to the sound of Ruddiger clawing at something.

 “C’mon,” he groaned, “Can’t you just wait until the morning, you stupid trash panda?”

 He kept his eyes screwed tight, throwing an arm over them for good measure. He’d opted to take the floor for the night, leaving Nuru and Yong to split one bunk in their room and Varian to take the last bed, so his back was killing. Now, the stupid raccoon wanted to play, and he had just gotten to sleep-

 Ruddiger kept pawing at the door, chattering up a storm. Hugo nearly snapped, quickly losing patience.

 “What do you want, you little gremlin?!” He hissed, throwing his arm away from his face and sitting up dramatically to glare at the raccoon. Ruddiger didn’t even look at him, clawing at the wood of their door like he was trying to burrow through it. Rain pattered at the porthole window nearby, the occasional flash of lightning flickering through the room. Hugo grumbled at the sound of rolling thunder, but slowly woke up as Ruddiger continued to panic.

 “Hey,” Hugo said, caution taking over at the sight of the frantic animal. “Hey, ringtail, what’s wrong?”

 He rolled over a bit, quietly getting to his feet and shuddering at the cold on his toes. He looked around the dark cabin, trying to see if anything was out of place. Yong and Nuru were fast asleep, Yong curled up on his side and Nuru splayed out like a gangly starfish, and all the bags were still there so-

 Wait.

 “Where’s Varian?” Hugo hissed into the darkness. Green eyes focused on the empty bed next to him, widening when he also saw that Varian’s boots had been left behind.

 The ship gave a sickening roll under him, the floor groaning under the force of the rushing waves. Hugo felt his guts swoop out from under him, but managed to keep his footing as he headed for the door. The second he opened it, the raccoon was bolting out into the hallway, long gone by the time Hugo himself got out of the room.

 “Goddamn it,” he muttered, “It’s too early for this shit, I swear.”

 He quickly walked down the hallways, looking for Varian. The longer it took to catch sight of him, the more stressed Hugo became. Soon enough the blond was sprinting down the length of the ship, calling for the shorter voice with something near panic. He’d searched the whole ship, all that was left was…

 “The deck,” Hugo breathed in horror.

 He bolted for the main door, stumbling up the stairs and onto the main deck of the large ship. The storm was only getting worse, the wind rushing around him and nearly sending him toppling onto the soaked deck. Hugo’s hair plastered itself to his head, the rain coated his glasses and made it impossible to see.

 “Goggles?” He yelled over the pounding surf, “Varian?”

 He scanned the deck again, squinting against the rain-

 There.

 Precariously close to the edge was Varian, drunkenly stumbling along the deck. Hugo was moving before he could even think of anything else, his bare feet slapping against the wooden planks.

 “Varian, stop!” He screamed, rushing forwards.

 Varian didn’t even flinch at the scream, instead opting to slowly lurch towards the guardrail. Hugo felt a sense of terror climb higher in his chest, even as he ran. If Varian pitched over the edge, he was surely done for, in a storm like this being in the open water was a death sentence. Varian kept walking, eventually clambering up a set of crates to perch himself on top of the guardrail, a hand holding onto a nearby line the only thing keeping him from toppling over the edge and into the raging water below.

 Hugo screamed again, something wordless and nearly feral as he sprinted forward, reaching a hand out towards the other teenager. Varian swayed dangerously, his bare feet almost half off the railing, a thin hand lifting up into the air like he was reaching for someone.

 Hugo panted as he drew close, his feet skidding as he tried to slow down before he hit Varian and sent them both over the edge. He slipped, landing hard on his side with a shout. Hugo scrambled up to his feet again, reaching out and grabbing Varian around the waist with both arms, pulling him off the railing and onto the boat properly. Varian fought him with sleepy, lazy throws of his limbs. Hugo noted with shock that his eyes were totally closed, had he really been sleepwalking?

 “Lemme… let go!” Varian mumbled, struggling without any real force behind it. Hugo kept his grip easily, backing them off the edge and towards a safer area, the rain still coming down around them could easily send them off the edge if they weren’t careful.

 “Sweetcheeks!” Hugo called again, shaking Varian gently, “You’ve gotta wake up, c’mon!”

 Varian’s freckled cheeks shone from rain and tears, his face scrunched up in fear. Hugo shook him again, letting go of his waist to grab at his shoulders.

 “Varian!” He shouted louder, getting closer to the shorter boy’s face.

 Varian’s eyes snapped open, scaring the hell out of Hugo, the shorter boy gasping like he was coming up from underwater. He looked terrified, small hands coming up and smacking at Hugo’s chest with a little more force than he’d had before.

 “What?” Varian gasped between breaths, “Where- Hugo?!”

 “Oh, thank god.” Hugo gasped, allowing the panic in his chance to finally settle. Varian shook in his grip, violent tremors that took his whole body. The shorter boy looked close to tears. Varian suddenly fell forward, still on his feet but he was leaning his entire body into Hugo’s chest, hands that had been slapping at him gripping his sleepshirt tightly.

 “Hugo.” Varian gasped into the blond’s chest, “I was so scared- I- I saw-”

 Hugo paused, unsure of what to do, before slowly wrapping his arms around Varian and pulling him into a hug. “You’re okay,” he whispered into Varian’s hair, “It’s okay, it’s over now. You’re safe.”

 “I’m not!” Small hands tightened their grip on Hugo’s sleep shirt. “I keep seeing faces- I’m not, I saw a demon, and she said she was going to… to…”

 “It was a nightmare.” Hugo soothed. “It’s okay. Let’s get you below deck, out of the rain.”

 Varian’s hands slowly let go, inching around so that he was hugging Hugo properly. The taller boy held him close, unwilling to let go. “You’re safe,” he murmured again, unsure if he was soothing Varian or himself. The rain continued to pelt them, washing away the fear with the feeling of Varian in his arms, warm and still breathing.

 In the depth of the universe, the space between life and death, the demon Zhan Tiri snarled.

 Sugracha had failed. It was time for her to deal with this herself.

>>>><<<<

 Varian’s leg was bouncing.

 He nervously tugged at his pendant, waiting with the others inside of a grand chateau. Upon arrival to Vardaros he’d been pulled along by Nuru to the richer part of the city, a sprawling neighborhood of mansions with perfectly trimmed hedges and beautifully painted trim.

 Varian had never felt so out of place before.

 They’d stopped at the home of a woman named Willow, an eccentric woman in her early forties, who was apparently the princess’s aunt. She was nice enough, having shouted upon seeing Nuru and wrapped the girl up in a tight hug. She’d brought them into her home, directed them to a sitting room. So now they were here.

 And Varian’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.

 The room around them was lavish, large paintings and brushed gold. Varian felt under dressed, even in his new clothes. He was exhausted, having stayed awake with nerves the night before. They still refused to leave, the fear cloying as he tried to force it down like a bad pill. Hugo was sitting next to him, stoic and stable. Varian found himself twitching again, unable to stop himself from shaking-

 Hugo’s hand slipped into his own.

 “You’ve got this.” The blond whispered, “It’s okay.”

 Varian nodded, taking a deep breath. He squeezed Hugo’s hand, grateful for the assurance. He managed to get a handle on the shaking, letting his leg finally settle. Nuru and Yong, sitting on a different couch nearby, let out a sigh of relief as he calmed.

 “Who wants tea?” Willow called, entering the room with a tray in her hands. Varian caught sight of a teapot and cups, but felt sick. He was sure if he tried to eat or drink, he’d surely lose his nerves and his stomach.

 Varian breathed deeply as Nuru took a teacup from Willow. She caught Hugo’s eye, nodding when he gestured with his chin to her.

 “Miss Willow,” Nuru said softly, “I think we found him.”

 Willow paused, stopping where she had been pouring tea. “I see,” she said. Her voice had dropped a few degrees. Varian tensed, only calming when Hugo squeezed his hand again. Willow’s eyes focused on Varian, appraising. She gestured for him to stand, her lips pursing.

 “Well, you certainly look like little Varden,” she said. “The stripe is hard for some people to fake, though not impossible.”

 “It’s not fake,” Varian mumbled. He tugged on the stripe self consciously, feeling uneasy under her glare. “I was born with it.”

 Willow smiled, finishing pouring Yong’s tea.

 “Alright then,” she said. “We’ll start easy. Where were you born?”

 It went like that for hours, a series of questions that got more and more specific as the time dragged by. Varian answered each one as best he could, stumbling over his words and constantly tugging at his necklace. Willow wasn’t unkind, but she had the air of a woman who had seen too many fakes.

 The sun was nearly low in the sky by the time Willow was done. Varian felt exhausted, wrung out and tired in a way that was bone deep. Willow had kept the tea flowing and the biscuits piled, but even Nuru and Yong were obviously worn out. They all slouched into their seats, blinking away the light from the setting sun. Hugo had held his hand the whole time.

 “I just have one more question,” Willow finally said. Varian perked up at the thought of an end to the interrogation, sitting straighter.

 Willow pursed her lips, eyes narrowing.

 “How did you escape the raids?” She finally asked, settling back in her seat.

 Hugo tensed. They hadn’t told him that-

 “I…” Varian paused, biting at his lip. “There was… a door, I think? A little one, in a wall. A boy took us through it- but that’s stupid.” Varian cut himself off, shaking his head with a laugh. “Little doors, sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying,”

 He didn’t even notice Hugo’s face go ghostly white next to him, too caught up in his own musing. Willow smiled, nodding.

 “Well,” she finally said, “You answered all the questions correctly-” They all breathed a sigh of relief, “-but I’m afraid my niece isn’t seeing any more potential Vardens. She’s had her heart broken enough times.”

 Varian’s heart sank, the anxiety creeping back in. “I- please!” He cried, “We’ve come all this way, please, she might be the only family I have-”

 Willow sighed, rubbing at her temples. “I can’t take you to her,” the woman finally said, “But, I can say that she’ll be at the Vardaros Opera, tonight. If you were to drop by, I might be able to get you to her.”

 Varian smiled wide, his eyes swimming with tears. “Thank you,” he said quietly, hoping he could impart even just a little of the gratefulness he felt in the words. From the way Willow smiled, it must have worked, as her own face split into a grin.

 “If you are him,” she said, “It’s worth a try. Besides, now we have an excuse to go do something fun!”

 “Something fun?” Yong’s voice piped up, muffled through a mouthful of biscuits. Willow smiled, cracking her knuckles. Varian tensed at the sly look on her face.

 “Shopping.” She declared.

 Oh, dear.

>>>><<<<

 Hugo grit his teeth against the blowing wind, huddling deeper into his coat. The grand entrance to the opera was cold in the evening, large stone steps doing nothing but leeching the warmth from his body. He grumbled to himself, slouching in place as he sat on the stoop. He curled tighter, as if he could shove the bitter feelings down.

 Hugo scowled, picking at the grout between the large stones. The feeling of misery had been settling in his gut ever since Willow had finished quizzing Varian, a festering, horrible thing. It was a dread that had taken him for the whole evening, the blond unable to enjoy the last of his time with Varian before-

 Before he lost him.

 Hugo scowled again, flicking a rock. Varian was the missing lord. A fact that had been festering in his mind for hours. He had been the boy who had saved the real Varden- he had saved Varian, when they were children- he’d been the boy in the wall. Varian was Varden, clear as day. He looked like the missing boy because he was.

 The festering misery only grew worse, digging its claws deeper. Varian was royalty, was one of the heirs to a kingdom- and here was Hugo, with a stupid little infatuation with him. Even if he’d had a shot before- which he didn’t, not with Varian, who was good and kind and pure in a way that was too good for Hugo- he certainly didn’t now. Not with the status Varian finding his family would bring him. Not with a relation like the princess. Varian would surely have his pick of rich, handsome bachelors; Hugo didn’t have a snowflake’s chance in hell when compared to them.

 So yes. Yes, he was bitter, but not against Varian. Never against Varian- Hugo wouldn’t blame Varian for passing him by once someone who would give him what he deserved came along. How could he? Varian deserved the best and brightest, so that was what he’d get.

 And Hugo just wasn’t a contender.

 He felt his face twist into a scowl, picking up a nearby stone to fiddle with. He’d had one last good day with Varian, one more day to watch him smile and laugh, to see him happy. It had been like heaven, seeing the sun shining off those baby blue eyes; Hugo had tried to bask his fill before he’d lose Varian for good. It hurt, knowing his time with Varian was being cut, that he wouldn’t ever be able to pursue the feelings that had burrowed in his chest-

 “Hugo?”

 The blond startled, his thoughts breaking off at the call of his name. He dropped the stone, twisting in his spot to see Varian, wrapped up in his oversized coat.

 “Are you okay?” The younger boy asked, arching a brow. Hugo smiled, standing quickly. He brushed himself off, forcing his face into a smirk.

 “Of course, Sweetcheeks,” he said. “What, worried about little ol’ me?”

 Varian scoffed, but even Hugo could hear the fondness in it. “I just don’t want to be late.” He said, turning and walking towards the opera doors without looking back. Hugo followed without complaint, ditching his coat at one of the checks before trying to find Varian in the crowd again. He never did see what Varian had picked out to wear, he’d been too busy trying to keep Yong on task at the time, so Hugo had no idea what he was even looking for…

 But oh, when he saw it.

 Green eyes caught the flash of blue first, Varian’s blue streak popping out in the sea of black suits. He’d gotten rid of the ugly overcoat, leaving him in a well tailored, form fitting suit made of dark navy material. His shirt was a pressed white, with a blue tie that matched his eyes perfectly-

 Hugo felt his heart thump.

 Varian was looking around nervously, playing with the necklace he never took off. When he caught sight of Hugo, his face split into a large grin, waving awkwardly. Varian carefully picked his way through the crowd, awkwardly shuffling past people until he finally stood in front of Hugo with a small grin.

 “I couldn’t find you,” he laughed, “I thought you'd gotten lost!”

 Hugo was dumbstruck, unable to focus. His tongue felt weighted, his eyes drawn to Varian’s face and unable to look away. The shorter boy looked at him with an expectant face, waiting for him to reply- oh shit, he had to reply.

 “You… you look really nice.” Hugo choked out, awkwardly stumbling over the words. Varian blinked, a small blush sparking across his face at the compliment.

 “I-” he stuttered, “Thank you. You do too.”

 It was a strange moment between them, something fragile but important, a tie in the space between that kept them both rooted to the spot. The buzz of the crowds filtered away, the world narrowing down to just them. Hugo knew that this was it- his last shot, the last chance he’d get to tell Varian how he felt, after this it was over. All it would take is for him to spit it out, to say I think I love you, to just try.

 “I… we should get to our seats,” he said.

 Varian smiled, allowing Hugo to lead him by the arm into the auditorium. Hugo swallowed the regret, the pain, and forced his face into a smile. Varian deserved the world, and the world was what he’d get.

 The opera was boring. Hugo wasn’t usually one for musical theatre, so he mostly ended up watching as Varian nervously tore his playbill to shreds in his lap. Eventually he’d taken Varian by the hand, leaning over and whispering in his ear.

 “It’ll be okay,” he murmured over the singing, “You’ll be fine.”

 The way Varian smiled at him was more than enough for Hugo. He forced himself to commit it to memory, to save the feeling for later, once the ghosts were all he had left.

 At intermission they made their way to the upper balconies, meeting Willow in the main hallway.

 “You made it, good!” The woman said, clapping her hand. “Hugo, you go first. Introduce yourself, tell her you found him. She’s had a bad day today, you’ll need to be delicate.”

 “Sure, delicate,” Hugo muttered, “I can do that.”

 He slipped into the booth through a curtain, only just catching sight of Varian’s worried gaze as he did so. The booth was large, lavish and opulent. Hugo quietly marveled at the plush carpet under his shoes, the soundless way he moved through the space. Curtains hung from every wall, gold leaf and delicate paintings covered any surface not coated in a thick velvet.

 And there, sitting on one of the large, wingback chairs, was the princess herself.

 Rapunzel was radiant, her long, blonde hair spilling out behind her. Her purple dress was beautiful, a layered skirt and tight top accenting her form. Green eyes looked out numbly towards the crowd. When Hugo looked closely, he could see where thick makeup covered deep bruises caused by sleepless nights. Rapunzel, for all she was the essence of grace and beauty, had an air of sorrow around her that refused to leave.

 Hugo stepped forwards, trying to be calm. For Varian.

 “Your majesty,” he began.

 Rapunzel turned to look at him, her gaze boring into him. Two pairs of green eyes locked onto each other, Rapunzel’s face scrunching up in confusion.

 “Hello?” She said, obviously puzzled as to why he was here. “Can I help you?”

 “You can,” he replied. Hugo inched closer, kneeling next to her chair. “I’ve travelled here from Corona, I have someone that I think you’d really want to meet. His name’s Varian-”

 “Ah,” her face crumpled in obvious misery. “Another man chasing after the reward money, huh?”

 “No!” Shit, he’d been afraid of this, “No, ma’am really, I think that I’ve really found him. I used to work at the palace, I was the serving boy that got the two of you out-”

 Rapunzel’s eyes flashed in recognition, but her face remained sad. “Everyone who ever worked at the palace has put their Varden’s forward to me.” Her tone was bitter, exhausted. “And I’m done. I’m sorry, but I won’t be seeing anyone else about the reward. My brother is dead. I can’t keep trying to find him when he obviously has left us. Please, leave me to my mourning.”

 Hugo stuttered, flinching when he felt hands on his shoulders. A security guard started to tug him backward, but he refused, shoving himself toward the princess.

 “No, you have to listen!” He cried, grabbing her by the shoulders. Rapunzel seemed shocked, blinking at him, but he shook her gently. “You have to meet him, he remembers you, please, just give him a chance!”

 Rapunzel’s face crumpled. “My brother is dead,” she snapped.

 And that was the end of it.

 Hugo was wrenched out of the booth by the security guard, the blond shouting as he was pulled away from the princess. In what felt like a split second he was thrown into the hallway, landing with an oomph on the carpet. He got his hands under him, pushing himself up to see a pair of black shoes.

 He looked up, seeing Varian near tears. Hugo shoved himself off the floor, drawing close.

 “It was all a lie, wasn’t it?” Varian asked, his tone dangerous. He sounded furious. He sounded devastated.

 “No,” Hugo tried to touch his arms, but Varian pulled away, “No, no, it’s not like that, I swear-”

 “I was just part of your con?” Varian’s whole body shrank into itself, the hurt in his voice clear. “Just a trick to get her money?”

 “No,” Hugo repeated, desperately trying to get his point across, “No- okay it might have started that way, but it’s different now!”

 Varian turned away, the shock clear on his face as he started to leave. Hugo rushed in front of him, cutting his access to the stairs off. “You are Varden,” Hugo gasped, flinching when Varian’s eyes went cold.

 “Will you stop it?” The shorter boy hissed, shoving at Hugo’s chest. “From the moment this whole thing began you were lying to me, and I was stupid enough to believe you!” He let out a groan of frustration, clenching his fists in the air. Varian’s tone had gone from pained to furious, the air around him dropping a good few degrees.

 “Varian, please, just listen to me-”

 “No!” Varian snapped, “I’m sick of listening to you! Can’t you just leave me alone?” He tried to shove past Hugo, going for the stairs, but the blond caught him by the arm. Varian paused, his face darkening in a scowl as he twisted around and-

 SLAP.

 People in the crowd gasped, watching as Varian yanked his arm out of Hugo’s grip. The blond paused, eyes wide as he brought a hand up to feel his stinging cheek. The shock was immense, nearly enough to quell the ache that had sprung from the hit, but not quite.

 Varian disappeared down the stairs, vanishing into the stunned crowd. Hugo took a second to breathe, to pull his raging emotions back into check, to just panic, before launching himself into the crowd. He pushed past people roughly, uncaring as they whined at his lack of manners.

 Varian, where’s Varian? His mind had narrowed down to one focus, one mission. He couldn’t the stripe of blue anywhere, the other boy having well and truly disappeared. Hugo ended up outside the opera, standing in the misty evening and looking around frantically for his missing friend. It was nearly abandoned outside, the streets quiet.

 Hugo panted as he searched, the devastation slowly sinking into him. He’d screwed up, horribly. He had to make it right, had to apologize, had to-

 Shit, what did he even do now?

 Hugo’s breaths came faster, him having to force air into his aching lungs. Varian must hate him, must think he’s horrible. But Varian was Varden, was the missing lord, this was his chance to get Varian to his family. If Hugo failed now, it was over, for all of them.

 He spun around, trying to catch sight of Varian, but still only saw empty cobblestone streets. A carriage was nearby, the driver waiting nearby as-

 Rapunzel.

 The princess was getting into her carriage, her face molded into a blank slate. Hugo paused, thinking hard- he could get executed for this… but Varian deserved to be with his family, regardless of if Hugo were a part of the picture.

 With that thought in mind, he stalked forward, and got into the driver side of the carriage.

>>>><<<<

 Varian scrubbed at his face roughly, chewing the inside of his cheek to stave off the tears.

 He roughly chucked more of his things into his suitcase, uncaring as to how they fell. His vision swam with bitter tears, eyes burning against the salt.

 Gods, he was so stupid, how could he ever think Hugo would ever be anything other than a dirty, lying cheat-

 Varian slammed his suitcase shut. Ruddiger whined from his place on the bed, the raccoon obviously picking up on Varian’s sour mood. He sighed, reaching out a gentle hand for the animal. Ruddiger chittered, pressing into the touch. Varian blinked away the tears, only to scowl when new ones took their place.

 “Sorry, bud,” he sniffed. “This was stupid of me to drag you all the way here. We’re going home.”

 He heard the door creak behind him. Varian scowled, turning and expecting to see Hugo. He was surprised, then, when he saw a young woman standing in the room with him. She was beautiful, but her face was horribly sad. Her blond hair was frazzled, her dress stained with mud, but her stance was still one of immense power.

 “Y-your majesty,” Varian stuttered. Rapunzel only smiled, taking a seat on the bench of a nearby vanity.

 “So you’re the next Varden, then?” She asked him. Her gaze was expectant, judging.

 Tired.

 “I… I just want to know who I am.” He replied. It was painful, to bare his soul to a woman who was effectively a stranger, but if this was his chance… he’d still take it. “I want to know if I belong to a family. Your family.”

 Rapunzel paused smiling softly. “You’re a very good actor,” she said. “The best yet, in fact. But I think I’m ready to let my brother go.”

 He took a seat next to her, slouching. He’d been hopeful, that much was true, but he couldn’t blame her heart for being broken one too many times. He took a steadying breath through his nose, but paused when he smelt something particular.

 “Is that… paint?” He asked. “Or lavender?”

 “Both,” Rapuzel shrugged. “It’s a special type I order from Pincoasta. Gets the colour just right-”

 “I… didn’t I try to make you a bottle?” He asked, rubbing at his temples with a hand. His head was killing- “But I spilt the oil, on your mother’s favorite carpet. And it reeked of lavender from then on.”

 The princess paused, sitting back down on the bench. “I- yes,” she said, her eyes wide. “Yes, that’s exactly what happened. How did you know that?”

 “I don’t- I don’t know,” Varian stuttered. “I was found with no memories at about six years old. I get… I don’t know, flashes or whatever you’d like to call them. They’re always random, but it’ll be things like smells, tastes… or faces, that bring a memory up.”

 The princess looked at him with that same calculating expression before her eyes trained down to the chain around his neck. “What’s that?” She asked quietly, gesturing to the necklace.

 Varian looked down at it as well, a blush working across his face. “Oh,” he mumbled. “It was something I was found with. It was my clue for trying to come here.”

 Rapunzel looked shell shocked, green eyes blown wide as he took the necklace off and handed it to her. “I… I got him a present,” she told Varian. “Before my parents and I were to go on a trip. So he’d remember me while we were gone.” Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of the pendant, a few trailing down her freckled cheeks. With a small movement she pulled out her bag, drawing out a small, porcelain box. Varian gasped at the sight of it, holding his hand out. She tipped it and the necklace into his palm, crying harder as he inspected it.

 “The music box,” he mumbled, “I remember this. It was so I wouldn’t miss you as much, and it would sing me to sleep.”

 He began to hum to himself as he slotted the pendant into the premade slot, gently turning the crank within. Rapunzel let out a wet gasp as she recognized the tune, the woman blinking away tears as the music box opened. The tiny automaton began its dance, the music trilling through the quiet room.

 ““Soon you'll be, home with me,” She sang to the tune. Varian’s voice floated along with hers, “Once upon a December.”

 Rapunzel fully let out a sob, Varian following along as their eyes met. Without any more hesitation she lunged forward, wrapping him up in a hug. His hands found their way to her back, clinging tight.

 “Varden,” she sobbed, “I thought you were dead-”

 “It’s- heh, it’s Varian,” he giggled out through the tears. “And I didn’t even know I was lost.”  

 Rapunzel held him tighter, laughing into his hair.

 Neither of them saw how, standing on the sidewalk down below, Hugo stood looking up at the window. He held himself high, an honest smile gracing his face. He brought his fingers up to his lips, gently kissing them before raising his hand in a palm up gesture towards the window. He paused for only a second more, coat in hand, before turning and leaving the mansion behind.

 With this, he would have to be content.

>>>><<<<

 Varian bit at his lip, reaching towards his neck. His hand touched air, and he felt a small sinking in his stomach when he realized that he’d left his necklace behind. He let his hand drop, instead picking at his fingers. He hid behind the curtain in front of him, staring out into the massive ballroom beyond, one even more grand than the ones in his recently unlocked memories. He bit at his lip, watching the elites mill about together. He felt out of place already, trussed up in a suit fancier than anything he’d even seen before; the nerves were going to eat him alive.

 “Vard- Varian?” Rapunzel’s voice cut through the anxiety. Varian paused, looking to her with a forced smile. She laughed at his expression, reaching up to gently fix the circlet on his head. He was thankful she was willing to use his second name- after being Varian for so long, he didn’t really want to switch back.

 “Rapunzel,” he greeted, letting his face fall a little. She kept her smile, cupping his cheek.

 “Are you okay?” She asked him. She pushed his hair away from his face, cocking her head.

 “I’m fine,” he lied. There was a pause as she stared him down, the boy quickly breaking. “I was just looking for someone.”

 Rapunzel paused, turning away from him to look out to the party. “He’s not there,” she said sadly, “Though I wish he was. He’s a remarkable young man.”

 “Oh, I’m sure he’s fine,” Varian said, only a little sour, “He’s probably off spending his reward money as quickly as he can.”

 Rapunzel sighed. She gestured towards the guests again, tilting her head. “This is the world we were born into,” she said, her hand waving gracefully. “You were born for riches, gold and diamonds, princes and lords. But is that really what you want?”

 Varian backed away, letting the curtain fall shut. “Of course it is!” He tried to defend, refusing to meet Rapunzel’s eye. “Of course, I found what I was looking for, didn’t I? I found out who I was, I found you-”

 “And you’ll always have me,” Rapunzel assured. “But is it enough?”

 Varian paused, looking at her in confusion. She reached forwards, drawing him into a hug. He hugged her back without pause, unsure of where she was going with this.

 “Varian,” she whispered to him. “Hugo didn’t take the money.”

 “He… he didn’t?”

 She shook her head with a smile. “You’ve grown so much since I saw you,” she grinned. “And I’m so proud of who you’ve become. But… you have to be sure you’re listening to your heart,” she pushed a hand to his chest, gentle, “And no matter where it takes you… know that we’ll always have each other.”

 Varian stuttered, unsure. Rapunzel let him go, slowly going towards the party. She smiled at him one last time before vanishing between the curtains. Varian watched her go, biting his lip.

 For a second he stood stalk still, unable to think- what did he really want? He could follow her, become a prince, live a life of luxury with the family he’d always tried to find… or he could return to the one he’d built. The family he’d stitched together with tape and glue, with Nuru and Yong…

 And Hugo.

 Varian took a step towards the curtain, but stopped himself. He bit at his lip, tapping his foot. He finally spun on his heel with a groan, headed for the door, when something caught his eye.

 A bright fuchsia light glowed from the gardens beyond, wildly out of place against the cool glow of the moon. Varian watched as it flickered, moving around in the distance. He spared one last look to the ballroom before stepping away, walking into the garden beyond.

 It was a warm evening, but he still felt a chill. Varian rubbed at his arms, shuddering. A thick mist permeated the garden, choking out the moonlight before it could really hit the stone path. The pink light was gone, leaving the garden pitched into a strange collage of shadows. Varian spun a bit, trying to find the source, when he heard a sudden voice on the wind.

 Varian.

 He tensed, looking further down the path towards where the voice was coming from. Another gust of wind made him shiver, rubbing at his arms again. He kept moving forwards, deeper into the garden despite the sense of apprehension and danger he was starting to feel.

 Varian.

 He kept walking, startling when he saw another flash of colour out of the corner of his eye.

 “Hello?” He called into the darkness. Something about this was setting him on edge, something in the way the air froze in his lungs. He walked a little faster, eventually finding himself on a large bridge. Water rushed below, nearly deafening. Varian shuddered again, the air was even colder here with the water nearby. He scanned around for the owner of the voice, pausing when he saw a figure on the bridge.

 “H-hello?” His voice was weak in the darkness, fear slowly creeping in. He should go back, back to the warmth and the light-

 “Varian,” the voice, a female one, purred. Varian tensed, moving towards the figure as she spoke. “Your royal highness- a young duke in your own right, hm?”

 Varian squinted, stopping on the bridge properly. The figure continued towards him, slowly taking a female shape. A large, puffy skirt danced around her ankles, long hair done up in two intricate buns. Varian caught sight of a shark’s smile splitting her face, eyes glowing fuchsia in the darkness.

 “Look at what the years have done to us, hm?” The fog parted around the woman at last, showing her nearly skeletal face. Varian flinched at how familiar it was, his nightmares-

 The woman smiled wider, holding her arms towards him. “You, a beautiful young thing… and me, a withered old corpse.”

 Varian’s mind raced, his breath picking up. He needed to run, needed to go, but his feet felt glued to the ground. He shuddered as the woman got closer, her hands barely an inch away from his skin.

 “Don’t you remember?” She asked him, “No? Hm, you were only a child, I suppose. It was a party, just like this one… though it certainly ended with a bang.”

 She waved her hand, her fingers warping into claws. Varian screamed as there was a rush of heat; he threw his arms up in front of his face at the feeling of fire on his skin. He was knocked back onto the stones, landing hard without his hands to stop the fall. The fire suddenly stopped, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

 He looked to the woman in shock, seeing what looked almost like a lantern in her hand. It was glowing that same pink, before settling down into a normal light. She smirked as he stared at her. Varian sucked in a breath through his teeth, everything falling into place- his nightmares had all whispered a name to him, one that had haunted him since he was a child…

 “Zhan Tiri,” he breathed, nearly inaudible above the sound of rushing water below. Her smile grew, something smug and wicked. Varian forced himself into standing again, refusing to break eye contact as she stepped closer.

 “Smart child,” she cooed to him. “I can see some of my Demanitus in you… it’s time I fix that.”

 She waved the lantern again, forcing him to step back towards the railing of the bridge. Varian yelped as the stones shuddered under him, a wave of energy hitting him dead on. He felt tiny hands grabbing at him, trying to pull him towards the edge. He swatted without thinking, gasping when he saw small, demonic creatures swarming him. Varian cried out as one pulled at his hair, ripping it from its slicked back style and making it fall normally. He swiped at them again, panting as they disappeared into thin air. He didn’t need to look down to know his suit was ruined, his circlet gone; he leveled a glare at Zhan Tiri, wanting to smack the smug grin off her face.

 “I’m not scared of you!” He yowled, shoving his wayward hair behind his face. Zhan Tiri only laughed, standing tall as she waved the lantern again.

 “You will be,” she cackled, letting the magic burrow deep into the stones below. Varian shrieked as there was a large crack, the noise near deafening. He nearly fell as the bridge began to shake apart, a large chunk of it, the part he was standing on, beginning to break away. He tried to grab the handrail as it started to tip into the water, but failed.

 He let out a terrified scream as the floor dropped out from under him, falling forwards. He clung to the stones, his fingers nearly numb against the cold. The part of the bridge was nearly ninety degrees from the rest of it- Varian screamed again as he began to slide down towards the raging water. He only just managed to catch himself on an edge before he would have slipped over the side. A wave of nausea took him as he felt his legs swing in the open air.

 He heard a scuffle going on up on top of the bridge, but was too busy focusing on not plummeting to his death to care, until he saw a third figure break through the fog and slide down the broken bridge toward him.

 “Hugo?!” He gasped, clinging tighter as the blond skid to a stop in front of him and grabbed Varian’s arms.

 “Hey,” Hugo grunted, trying to pull Varian up. The smaller boy huffed out a breath, trying to scramble up onto the edge. He caught sight of the fear in Hugo’s eyes, and let out a gasp.

 “If we live through this, remind me to thank you,” Varian gasped as he was pulled, the stone digging into his stomach. He looked up, gasping at a flash of pink behind them-

 “Hugo, LOOK OUT!”

 The older teenager yelped as he was grabbed from behind. Hugo was dragged away by magic, cursing. Varian grunted as he was dropped again, sliding back down to hang off the edge again. His arms burned as he clung to the bridge; he heard Zhan Tiri cackle, Hugo swear.

 “How enchanting,” she laughed, “Together again, just in time to die!”

 Varian heard Hugo shriek, a high-pitched yelp that cut through the noise. He just caught sight of a massive statue bursting to life, the giant, stone horse slamming its hooves into the bridge. No guesses for what was occupying Hugo, then.

 Varian grit his teeth, reaching up and managing to catch a handhold in a cracked piece of the bridge. He pulled himself up, grunting with the exertion of it, and felt himself breathe a little easier once his feet were scrabbling against rock instead of open air. He kept pulling himself up the angled section of bridge, finally getting to the point where he could clamber up to hang off the edge of the standing part of the road.

 He caught sight of Hugo rolling between the stomping hooves, gasping as he clung to the edge. “Hugo!” he cried, throwing out a hand towards the other boy out of sheer desperation. It was because of that distraction that he didn’t even notice Zhan Tiri until she was right in front of him.

 The demon plucked him up by the front of his shirt with barely any effort, holding him high as he struggled.

 “Finally,” she hissed. “The last of Demanitus’ little kingdom, gone. Goodbye, your highness.”

 And with that, she let him drop. Varian shrieked as he fell, his heart jumping in his chest. He managed to snag a piece of metal that was jutting out from the bridge, wincing at the pain that raced up his shoulders when he did so. His body swung in open air, the only thing under him was the raging water a hundred feet below. He grit his teeth against the pain, hearing Hugo shout his name from the bridge. Zhan Tiri shrieked her laughter to the sky, cackling.

 “At last!” She cawed, “The end of Corona is here!”

 Varian swung his legs, forcing himself to move. They thought he was dead, he had a chance here-

 He managed to grab another part of the bridge with aching hands, his fingers nearly slipping. With a groan he pulled himself up onto the stone bridge, gasping for breath as he finally got solid cobble underneath him. He chanced a look up, seeing Zhan Tiri and Hugo locked in a battle of wills with each other. Varian clawed his way to his feet, running for the demon with a shout.

 He caught her in a tackle, sending them both tumbling to the stone. Varian ignored the pain in his body, reaching for the power source Zhan Tiri was carrying around. It glowed an ominous pink, a bright beacon in the dark.

 A target.

 Varian let out a gasp as he touched the lantern, an electric zing making his fingers numb. He felt a sudden kick to his stomach, the demon launching him away, but he kept his grip. Varian felt himself fly back, landing hard on his back. He groaned, rolling a bit on the stone. He caught sight of Hugo nearby, knocked unconscious by… something, and scowled.

 He got his feet under him at the same time Zhan Tiri did. The demon looked frantically around herself, but stopped when she saw the lantern in his hand.

 “Stop!” She shrieked, running towards Varian. He caught just a glimpse into her eyes, the rage and fire in them, before he whipped the lantern down at the ground, shattering it. He was thrown backwards, landing nearly on top of Hugo with a grunt. The world around them spun, flashing lights and colours overtaking the evening in a stunning light show and roaring winds.

 In the center of the vortex, Zhan Tiri screamed, the agony in her voice clear as she sank to the ground. Varian watched in abject horror as she collapsed, dropping to the cobblestone as she turned to dust. Her screams went silent, the flashing pink and roaring winds dying out in a sudden, terrible silence.

 Varian panted, sinking down to the stones as he caught his breath. He wasn’t well versed in this magic business, but turning to dirt probably wasn’t good for anyone, demon or no. He slowly turned on his knees, gently reaching for the man behind him.

 “Hugo?” He whispered, as if scared to break the quiet they’d found themselves in. Varian cupped Hugo’s face with gentle hands, trying to rouse him. “Hugo, c’mon…”

 But Hugo didn’t even stir.

 Varian fought back tears, his eyes searching the other teenager’s face. “Please wake up?” He asked, desperate. “Please?”

 He sniffled, turning away for a second to wipe at his eyes. The fear and adrenaline was starting to leave him, leaving only aches and sorrow in their wake, Varian’s body shook from the ordeal it had gone through, an involuntary spasm as he cried.

 But then, like the sun through clouds, a gasping breath.

 Varian twisted back around, his face splitting into a grin as he saw Hugo’s eyes open. The blond looked confused, still dazed from whatever had hit him, but Varian didn’t pause, instead throwing himself into Hugo’s chest with a happy noise.

 “Ow,” Hugo whined at the impact, “Ow, c’mon Sweetcheeks, wanna maybe be gentle?”

 “Oh, sorry!” Varian backed off, a little, but he was still close enough that their noses were almost touching. He cocked his head, looking at the green eyes in front of him.

 “You… came back?” Varian asked, “I thought you were going back to-”

 “I was,” Hugo shrugged, not meeting Varian’s eye, “But, uh, I…”

 “You didn’t take the-”

 “I couldn’t.”

 Varian’s head dipped a little more, drawing closer to Hugo. “Why?”

 The blond paused, shrinking a bit. “Because I…”

 Varian stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, the shorter boy moving closer. They were only centimeters apart, their breaths mingling-

 Tink.

 They startled at the noise. Varian looked down to see he’d nudged his circlet, the shining diamonds still bright in the evening light. Hugo smiled, something quiet and resigned, before picking up the crown. He stood, Varian following quickly.

 “They’ll be waiting for you,” Hugo murmured. He held the circlet to Varian, who took it with gentle hands. He stared down at it, contemplating, before looking back up at Hugo.

 And just like that, he made his choice.

>>>><<<<

 Rapunzel entered her grand foyer, Willow following her closely.

 “I’m sure we’ll find him, darling,” Willow placated, “He can’t have gone far.”

 Rapunzel only smiled knowingly, catching a glint of shine on a nearby table. She walked to it, picking up Varian’s circlet from the tabletop. Her face split into a wide smile, reading the accompanying note quickly before passing it to Willow. Her aunt took the paper, scanning it, before gasping.

 “They’ve eloped!” She cooed, “Isn’t that romantic?”

 Rapunzel grinned, joyful tears in her eyes. She held Varian’s crown to her, smiling at the thought of her baby brother out there, happy at last. She watched as Willow dabbed at her eyes, sniffling. Rapunzel laughed as Willow cooed again, holding the note out back to her. The princess only turned away, looking out her window towards the expanse of Vardaros.

 Something in her settled at last, content to know he was out there, finally living his life. She took one last breath, blinking away the last of the tears as she focused on the distant river. If she imagined, she could almost catch a flash of blue on the deck of one of the boats.

 Though she may not know it at the time, Varian stood on one of those very ships, laughing as Hugo bowed to him. He performed an overly dramatic mime of a curtsey, letting Hugo take him by the arm and begin to spin him, giggling as they danced together. His face glowed with the light of his smile, drawing closer to Hugo as they danced, until finally-

 The press of Hugo’s lips on his was like coming home at long last.

 Varian smiled into the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup Hugo’s face close to his own, deepening the kiss as it went on. When they finally split for air, there was a split second of pause, the two of them trying to memorize the other’s eyes.

 Hugo finally broke the quiet, dipping forwards to scoop Varian up into a bridal carry, spinning them both. Varian openly laughed at that, throwing his arms around the blond’s neck and pressing an enthusiastic kiss to his cheek. He blinked past a sudden rush of happy tears, hugging Hugo tight to him for as long as he could.

 Finally, he was home.

[alicenttully]

Chances

I.

Sansa and Jeyne love each other with all the devotion of two girls- one whose sisters died in the cradle while the other was not close with the sister she had.

Sansa and Jeyne love each other, although the world does not let them forget who they are. The world never lets them forget that Sansa is the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark. Jeyne is the only daughter of Vayon Poole, Winterfell’s steward- A respectable position, but a steward nonetheless. Jeyne knows any match she makes will not equal that of Sansa’s- promised to the heir of the Vale.

Sansa and Jeyne love each other freely and without restraint, until Riverrun.

Lord and Lady Stark travel to Riverrun with four of their children- Robb remaining in Winterfell, for the wedding of Edmure Tully, Lady Stark’s younger brother. Still feeling giddy on the wine and revelry of the celebrations, Jeyne later steals into Sansa’s bed. Arya is in the another, but her peaceful snores assure the girls she’s fast asleep.

They are whispering and giggling, and then – it ceases when Jeyne kisses Sansa. They’ve kissed before, but they had been small girls then, a little older than Rickon is now perhaps. Practise, they had told themselves, as they exchanged swift, clumsy kisses. Except Jeyne is now sixteen, and she wants to kiss Sansa for herself. The gods must have granted her courage, because Jeyne is not brave- the thought of speaking to a room full of people however brief like she had seen Lord Eddard do makes her stomach flip, and the idea of Winterfell’s crypt unnerve her, even though she knew Sansa occasionally used to play down with her siblings.

Sansa breaks away from the kiss first. She is silent, and Jeyne feels herself grow cold. “Sansa, please say something.”

“Jeyne, I….” It is as if words and Sansa have become strangers. When Jeyne had kissed her, it hadn’t felt wrong. But Sansa also knew that they were not little girls anymore and – ladies weren’t supposed to that. She didn’t know how to reconcile those two feelings.

“Jeyne, you should not have done that.” Sansa’s voice was gentle but still low, mindful that Arya was in the room with them. But the light of the moon from the open window was bright enough to illuminate Jeyne’s face, and she looked as though Sansa had slapped her. She gave a strangled cry, and then left Sansa alone as she fled from the room.

II.

It takes three days of Jeyne avoiding her until Sansa had enough. They will be leaving soon, and Sansa does not want to return North without putting this to rest.

She finds Jeyne alone in Riverrun’s library.

“Jeyne, please. I can’t bear for you not to speak to me.”

Jeyne’s voice is cool and polite. “You seem to bear it well when your sister doesn’t.”

Sansa scoffed. “Arya is my sister. She’s always annoyed with me about something. But you’re my friend, Jeyne. We hardly ever fight.”

“Yes, friend.” Jeyne repeats. “You’ve made that clear the night of Lord Tully’s wedding.”

Sansa blushes. “Jeyne, forgive me. I’m just confused.”

She turns away for a moment. “I’m confused because I understand a part of me realizes you shouldn’t have kissed me like that. What if my mother had walked in? Or Arya had woken up?” Jeyne’s face blanches. “But,” Sansa takes a deep breath before continuing. “But there’s another part of me that’s confused as to why I didn’t hate you kissing me- that it felt nice. I don’t know what it means.”

Sansa feels Jeyne’s hand cup her cheeks. Her hands are so soft. “Perhaps we can find the answer together.”

When they kiss again, Sansa does not break away.

III.

The answer comes over time, in the next two years. Sansa writes Jeyne a poem, that Jeyne folds up to shut in the locket that had belonged to her mother. She wears the locket daily, to keep Sansa’s sweet words close. Lord Eddard sometimes invites one of his household to sup with him and his family. On the occasions that Jeyne and Vayon are honoured with an invitation, Jeyne would tune out her father’s voice while he talked about bread stores as she smiled knowingly at Sansa. They try to find whatever spot of Winterfell’s that they can- the library, in the godswood, or the rookery – and make it theirs.

Two years pass, and Sansa remains promised to Harry Arryn. A cousin of Sansa, the son of Elbert Arryn and her Tully aunt. Jeyne vaguely remembers Lysa Arryn from Riverrun- but what she remembers was a contented woman whose life was her husband and son. Sansa and Jeyne avoid talking about Sansa’s intended, although Jeyne is aware that Sansa does write to him. Jeyne does not like to think of what Sansa writes in those letters. But with Lord Elbert and Lady Lysa dying within days of each other and Sansa’s eighteenth name-day, Jeyne knows Sansa must begin the life she was promised for since she was ten.

That night before Sansa and Harry will speak their vows, Sansa and Jeyne both go to bed early. Sansa had told her mother that she was nervous, and thought perhaps Jeyne’s presence would soothe her.

“They say the Vale’s beautiful.” Jeyne says softly.

“It is.” Sansa’s hands stroke Jeyne’s arm. “Harry says the Vale will be made even more so by my presence.”

Jeyne grits her teeth. “I don’t want to speak about him.” She knows it’s partly her fault for bringing up the Vale, but she can’t help it.

Sansa lifts Jeyne’s hand and kisses it gently. “I’m sorry, Jeyne.”

But Jeyne feels angry now, and perhaps her anger gives way to the courage that had possessed her all that time ago in Riverrun. “We could leave.”

Sansa was lost for a moment. “What?”

“Leave. We’ll – We’ll run away, maybe Bravvos or somewhere. Somewhere where people don’t know who we are. We could be happy, you and me.” Jeyne’s voice is rapturous, and for a moment Sansa allows herself to be swept up in this sweet dream- but that’s all it could be, a dream.

“Jeyne, you know I can’t. I have a duty to my house, and to Harry. And if we left, there is no way we could return because of the scandal it would cause, the daughter of Lord Stark running off with a steward’s girl.

You remember that my aunt was taken by Prince Rhaegar? There are those who whisper she went willingly, and that shadow has hung over my father. I would only be making it worse.” Jeyne is resolute in the face of Sansa’s gentle pleas, but it is the mention of Vayon Poole that makes her yield. “And what about your father, Jeyne? You wouldn’t be able to see him again.” Every word Sansa speaks now is agonising, but it is necessary.

Jeyne nods, her eyes shining with tears. “I understand. It was a moment of folly, that’s all.”

“Jeyne, I’m sorry.”

Jeyne takes Sansa’s hand in her own. “Don’t be. It’s just that from tomorrow, you’ll be his. You’ll be his lady and give him sons if the Mother is good. He will get to love you openly, like I never could. But tonight- I just want you to be mine.”

When they kiss, Sansa wonders if this night with Jeyne will be enough to sustain her all the nights of her marriage.

IV.

During the first year of marriage, Sansa gives her husband a son- little Hugo. It is a good thing that Sansa finds joy in her son, because she finds little with her husband. Sansa wonders if part of this is her failing – wonders if she has prevented building something good with Harry, because she had already given away her heart.

But it was the second year of their marriage that Sansa understood how Harry had his own ghosts.

The serving girl does not notice Sansa as she slips out of Harry’s bedchambers one morning. Sansa is half-tempted to speak up, but she would probably frighten the girl to death.

She makes her way into Harry’s bedchambers. She thinks idly how her father and mother had possessed different chambers, and that Lord Eddard had never shamed his lady by using his rooms in such a way.

He shamed her in other ways, though.

“I hope you have not tired Mandy out.” Sansa says politely, as way of introduction. Sitting up amongst the covers, realization dawns on Harry’s face. “My Lady, I’m sorry-"

“My lord, please.” Sansa knows it is rude to interrupt, but perhaps it would be forgivable for this occasion.

“I am not angry at you. My father is the most honourable man I know, but my half-brother is proof that he like all men, will stray from his wife’s bed. I’ve long accepted that it could be the same for us. All I can ask is that you keep your dalliances discreet for my sake. I will not be treated like that of Queen Naerys. You make sure that whatever girl you are intimate with is given moon tea.

If you do sire a bastard, you will see to that child’s needs, but you will send both the woman and child away. I will not be like my mother.” Sansa is surprised by the intensity in her voice.

Harry nods, and it feels like a victory. “Agreed.”

The conversation could have ended there, but in spite of herself Sansa feels compelled to ask him this.

“Do you… do you love her?” She is genuinely curious.

Harry shakes his head. “She warms my bed, that’s it.” Harry locks eyes with Sansa. “I did love someone.” He said softly, and his face looked pained. “But I was promised to another.”

“You were promised to me.” Sansa feels her heart twist in sympathy for her lord husband. “I understand my lord, perhaps better than you realize. I loved someone else as well.” I love her still.

Perhaps it was this odd, unflinching honesty between her and Harry- the first time they were truly vulnerable with one another, that changes things for them. The next six years sees the birth of their twin children, Brynden and Teora. Duty and their children bound them together, but they have become good friends nonetheless.

V.

When Hugo is eight and the twins six, Harry dies suddenly in his sleep. His heart had just stopped, was their Maester’s finding.

As Sansa suddenly finds herself becoming Lady regent for her son, her thoughts keep coming back to Jeyne. Sansa had been back to Winterfell twice in the years she married, but it was as though she and Jeyne were strangers, rather than – what they were.

Sansa realizes it might do to marry again, but it is the last thing she wants.

What she does want – or who, is in the North.

 

VI.

“Who’s it from?” Jeyne asks, as the letter is handed to her.

“Lady Sansa.”

Jeyne’s breath catches in her throat at the mention of Sansa’s name. For eight years, she has tried not to think of Sansa in the Vale, with her lord husband and children. When they had guested at Winterfell, Jeyne had wanted so desperately to reach out to Sansa- but the realization she would only be making things worse that held her back.

Dear Jeyne,

Perhaps you will have learnt by now that my husband is dead.

Harry was a good man. Although ours was never a love match, we came to an understanding.

But it is his death that has made me realize something.

Jeyne, I have never stopped loving you. When you proposed to run away that night, I cannot tell you how tempted I was. But I had a duty to my betrothed, and my father. But Harry is dead now, and I have given him three heirs. The Lords of the Vale cannot pressure me into marrying again when the line is well secure. I want to make my own choices now. Jeyne, my father gave my hand in marriage to Harry but it is I alone that gives you my heart. Be mine, Jeyne. Come to the Vale.

Yours,

Sansa

 

Trembling, Jeyne read the words over and over again.

At first, she is overwhelmed with joy- but it is the thought of her father which gives her pause. It would mean leaving him, and for the past eight years, Jeyne's father had become her entire focus, as she had assisted him in his duties. He had tried arranging a match for her, but Jeyne had refused.

She has never stopped loving Sansa, but just as Sansa had put her duty towards her father first, Jeyne needed to do the same.

However, Vayon had other ideas.

"I heard you got a raven from Sansa today," Vayon said quietly, as they ate in Winterfell's Great Hall.

"Yes." Jeyne folds her hands in her lap. "Lord Arryn has passed recently, and she invited me to stay in Vale."

Her father raises his eyebrow. "An honour. I remember how close you were as girls. I never understood why you didn't go with her in the first place, Jeyne. It would have been good for you."

Jeyne shrugs. "It is. But-" Jeyne's voice falters. "I don't know if I can accept it."

However, Vayon takes Jeyne's hands in his own. "Aye Jeyney, if you're worried about your old Papa, don't be. Lord Stark always looks after his servants. But you- I don't want to stop you being with someone you love."

Jeyne could fancy that her father means the innocent love of friends, but his knowing look made Jeyne's heart thud. "How..."

"I think a part of me always suspected. You were always so close like I said. The day Lady Sansa was married, I remember how sad you looked. At first, I thought you mourned your friend leaving, but when you refused that boy - I pieced it together. In a way," Her father pauses, and brushes back a strand of wavy hair that he would sometimes say had been a legacy of Jeyne's mother. "I was glad in a selfish kind of way. I didn't have the means to make you a great match. But Jeyney, life only gives you so many changes at happiness. Don't miss on yours."

VII.

When Sansa reads Jeyne's answer, her smile is bright as the rising sun.

[themattress]

My Top 15 Favorite Gotham Characters

Plus one Honorable Mention.

Honorable Mention: Silver St. Cloud - She's an honorable mention because of how tragically the show wasted her. Silver was a standout character in 2A's “Rise of the Villains” arc, as we see all the layers peeled back from whimsical, kind-hearted, well-mannered young socialite to cruel, manipulative, cold-blooded agent of an evil religious cult to vulnerable, scared and remorseful girl in way over her head who forges a real emotional connection with Bruce. However, despite all the rich potential for her to develop even further as a character, she was never seen again after the 2A finale. 

15. Tabitha Galavan - While as a character she's the very definition of a second-stringer, Tabitha is an interesting case study in what happens when a single ember of innocence is still left burning within the darkest of souls. Raised in the evil Order of St. Dumas and kept firmly under her older brother's thumb, Tabitha is certainly no angel, being the sort of person who will fatally stab an innocent old woman in the back and feel no remorse. But the desire to care and be cared for is still very strong in her, and we see it manifest many times: with Silver, and with Selina, and with Barbara, and of course with Butch. Unfortunately for Tabitha, she is also a case study in how this doesn't guarantee that such a person will receive a happy ending, as she is unable to avoid karmic justice.

14. Butch Gilzean - I didn't really care about Butch initially, since he didn't seem like anything more than Fish Mooney's affably evil muscle. After he became brainwashed into obeying the Penguin's every command, he gradually became more interesting and sympathetic, and by the time he got romantically involved with Tabitha I had become so accustomed to him and his perversely likable sort of villainy that I couldn't imagine the show without him. But maybe the show would have been better off without him after his death in the Season 3 finale, as the immediate retcon afterward of his real name being Cyrus Gold and his resurrection as Solomon Grundy in Season 4 was just nonsense, especially when he ends up just as dead in the Season 4 finale as he was in the Season 3 finale, so what was even the point? Sometimes, dead is better, and I’m sure Butch would agree.

13. Harvey Bullock - For much of Season 1 it felt like the writers were trying to play Harvey Bullock too seriously, and I think that was a mistake because the character always benefits from being played more broadly, and lord knows that Donal Logue can do that very well. Thankfully, that's exactly how he started to be played more often from Season 2 and onward, with whatever serious arcs he did receive such as in Season 4 benefiting from him being so much more likable as a result. I'd rather watch him on screen than Jim Gordon any day.

12. Leslie Thompkins - While initially kind of bland, Leslie "Lee" Thompkins is a character that grew on me overtime. I felt really sorry for her throughout Seasons 2 and 3 as Jim Gordon proved to be the worst love interest ever, bringing her no end of pain, and then in Seasons 4 and 5 she used that pain and anger to shape herself into a total badass anti-heroine who was still all about helping those in need but now was open to using less than moral means to accomplish this. She's a character who finished the show stronger than she'd ever been, and her and Barbara becoming bros is everything I never knew I needed.

11. Sofia Falcone - Sometimes, a sharp and devious mind is all it takes for someone to be a great villain, and damn did Sofia ever put hers to good use. In the comics, this was a forgettable character who was just an obvious thug in design and demeanor, but Gotham's version is terrifying in how petite and pretty and kind and charitable and all around attractive in every way she is...the perfect way to manipulate others and conceal that on the inside she's beyond just a thug; she's a raging, ruthless, vindictive, amoral sociopath who only cares about herself. And kudos to Crystal Reed, whose performance sold the character perfectly. The only real downside to Sofia is that the writers clearly were forced to write her out earlier than anticipated, and her abrupt exit from the show is nowhere close to being as satisfying as the build-up to her gaining power within the city would lead you to believe.

10. Ra's Al Ghul - As wonderful as Sofia was, there was never any question as to whom Season 4's most formidable villain was: the same villain who is the series' ultimate Big Bad, Ra's Al Ghul. Beyond the phenomenally perfect casting of Alexander Siddig, who is hands down the most comics-accurate portrayal of the character in live-action to date, Ra's benefits from the series positioning him as the final answer to the long-running "who killed Thomas and Martha Wayne?" mystery and totally being able to convince viewers that most of this series' events were according to his plans due to the self-assured, in-control and borderline omnipotent way the Demon's Head carries himself. No-one in Gotham City is left unchanged by his machinations, least of all his chosen "heir" Bruce Wayne. 

9. Hugo Strange - The Big Bad of 2B's "Wrath of the Villains" arc is in the running for the show's most despicable villain. Professor Hugo Strange is a brilliant psychologist and scientist, but he is utterly devoid of a conscience and will do anything to achieve his twisted aspirations, from ruining peoples' lives with his experiments to bringing people back from the dead to personally ordering the death of those he considers to be friends. What makes Strange enjoyable in spite of his depravity is B.D Wong's performance: he looks absolutely perfect as a younger version of Hugo Strange and his voice seems to be channeling Corey Burton's Christopher Lee-inspired take from Batman: Arkham City.  He's a much stronger villain than 2A's Theo Galavan, and tellingly got to return in every following season.

8. Edward Nygma - I really wish I could place Ed higher on this list, since the Riddler is one of my favorite Batman villains and Cory Michael Smith is perfect in the role. But sadly, he's the subject of some really weak writing throughout the show that holds him back from breaching my personal Top 5. Whether it be the constant Nice Guy(TM) hounding of Kristen Kringle, the bizarre Two Face-esque split personality angle, the ungodly stupid Isabella plot device and subsequent clashing with the Penguin because of it, his needless romance with Lee that didn't make sense for either of their characters (which wasn't helped by the fact that it happened at a time where he kept on getting made a fool of in a way that undermined how menacing he was just a season ago), and being used as an obvious red herring in the Haven explosion mystery...he really deserved better material, and it's lucky that Smith makes him so enjoyable to watch since it would otherwise drag him down much further.

7. Jerome Valeska - Cameron Monaghan's performance as Jerome single-handedly forced the Gotham producers' hands when it came to their original plans (or lack thereof) for the Joker in their series, as right off the bat he managed to perfectly capture the same maniacal energy that the likes of Mark Hamill and Heath Ledger did, meaning fans would accept no-one else in the role. While Jerome ends up being more of a test run for the actual Joker - the Beta Joker, so to speak - he still is one of the most frightening and malevolent characters in the show's entire run, spreading chaos for chaos' sake and causing pain to others just because he finds it hilarious, and doing it all in the most theatrical way possible.  

6. Jeremiah Valeska - Yes, I agree that this character's whole basis - Jerome's secret twin brother who actually becomes the Joker - and how he was introduced is unbelievably stupid writing; in hindsight it would have made more sense to just find a way to transition Jerome into this kind of characterization as part of a continued evolution toward becoming the Joker. But we're stuck with Jeremiah, and as it stands he is a much worthier Joker than Jerome was. I don't really like the Joker whenever he's written to have no motivation beyond "random crime and chaos because LOL crazy!!!" - the best Jokers always have a reason for doing what they do, it's just that it's always a twisted reason that holds no basis in reality and just serves as an excuse for the Joker to spread pain and chaos across Gotham City and match wits with Batman. (Ex: Heath Ledger's Joker may say he has no plans and just "does things" as a manipulation tactic, but in reality he does make plans and does have the tangible objective of proving his nihilistic, anarchistic worldview to everyone; Batman in particular.)

Jeremiah's penchant for intricate planning combined with the psychotic objectives that lie behind his plans is what makes him more believable as the Joker compared to Jerome, and it really felt like the show's stakes rose to an entirely new, darker than ever before level when he stepped up to the plate at the end of Season 4. I also love his development: being in denial about his own insanity and likeness to his brother until his personal obsession with Bruce overpowers that and causes him to willingly give into the madness so that he can be a worthy enough foil for Bruce as Gotham's Dark Knight, since that gives his miserable life a sense of purpose. Add to this Cameron Monaghan still pulling off that Joker energy flawlessly and you have a Joker that can stand beside Nicholson, Ledger and Phoenix's portrayals.

5. Barbara Kean - This one really took me by surprise. I knew going into the show that Barbara was considered a poorly written, irritating obstructive love interest to Gordon in Season 1, but that she got Rescued From the Scrappy Heap in the following seasons. What I didn't know was the way that rescuing happened - she goes crazy and becomes a surprise villain in the Season 1 finale, and from then on out she is freaking nuts in the most hilariously over-the-top way, with Erin Richards chewing the scenery for all it's worth. Barbara is so entertaining throughout the various guises and positions she goes through across the series, not to mention a complete badass who you just can't help but respect for being true to herself even if she's an awful human being. Her redemption arc in Season 5 was a beautiful way to bring her journey full-circle, and I don't begrudge her the happy ending she got at all.

4. Alfred Pennyworth - We're all used to Alfred the butler, but Gotham got me accustomed to Alfred the soldier. Sean Pertwee is thoroughly convincing in the role of the hard-assed, frequently grumpy or moody yet caring, loyal and dependable Alfred, whose relationship with young Bruce Wayne is perfectly depicted. The only time I didn't care for him was during 2A, where he was cruel and unfair toward Selina because she killed his treacherous war-time buddy who almost murdered him and was planning on doing harm to Bruce. Thankfully, from the midseason finale and onward he managed to redeem himself, regaining his status as one of the show's best-depicted characters and maintaining it all the way to the end.

3. Bruce Wayne - This character was always going to live or die based on what child actor was playing him, and by God did David Mazouz nail it in his performance. Even putting the dead parents and destiny as Batman aside, Bruce Wayne is clearly not a "normal" kid, being raised in the lap of luxury and privileged to the point of extreme naïveté, with an overly formal way of speaking hammering in his distance from the rest of Gotham City. Watching him grow stronger and smarter and more worldly and responsible as the series progressed was always a pleasure, and he naturally made a far more compelling protagonist than Jim Gordon did, with the show ending on the shot that it does making it even more clear that this was primarily his story all along; just one elongated origin story for the goddamn Batman.

2. Selina Kyle - For quite a while in Season 1, the teenage girl who would be Catwoman spent a lot of time just slinking around the fringes of the story and accomplishing little of value. But once she finally met Bruce, Selina's character really took off, and she ended up becoming my second all-time favorite character in the show. Aside from the strong writing and character development, much is also owed to Camren Bicondova, who is utterly charming in her depiction of the cynical, sharp-tongued, street-smart thief with a heart of gold, and she is even able to make her rushed final transition into Catwoman in Season 5 believable. And kudos to Lili Simmons who plays her in the final episode, she is perfectly convincing as an adult version of Selina, looking and sounding just as I expect Bicondova to in a few years. 

1. Oswald Cobblepot - OK, this is probably an unoriginal choice, but I can't help it - Oswald Cobblepot, aka the Penguin, is the one character on this show who just did no wrong as far as I'm concerned (as a character, I mean, he obviously did a lot wrong morally!) In addition to being the role Robin Lord Taylor was born to play, there is a consistency in the writing of his character and in the quality of his development that I think is unmatched by anyone else in the cast. Aside from that one blip in the Isabella plotline of Season 3 that I credit as more of a blemish on Ed than I do Oswald, he was always a fully three-dimensional character who acted and reacted believably, and he always stayed firmly on the line between being a heinous, ruthless, murderous criminal chiefly seeking power and a tragic, sympathetic, even funny and likable person chiefly seeking love.  And he always remained the "noble villain" when compared to the other villains around him; always the one you could count on to join the heroes and do the right thing when it counted because he's a pragmatist with moral lines he will not cross....and because he loves and believe in Gotham City too, in his own way.