#it's time that this community also given their rights

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 5

(It took me way too long and saving every 5 min, but I got my laptop to run my drawing software long enough to get Leona drawn! Not overly thrilled with the pose and his legs gave me way too much trouble, but at least that is one more down!)

Warnings; Monster AU, yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, Romantic Yanderes, Platonic Yanderes, adult themes present, communal grooming behavior seen in most of my AU species, nesting behavior, social disconnect, attempted bullying, cooking breakfast, untrusting yet soft hearted reader, Cater unintentionally causes problems, Vampire Bats, Gnolls, Satyrs, Fauns, Kelpies, Water Nymphs, mention of Unicorns, Sphinx,

~~~~~~~~

"What... the actual hell are you doing?"

Lilia paused for just a moment, regarding you with wide and curious eyes that almost tricked you into thinking he was harmless. Almost. He took a moment with his pink tongue sticking out slightly as he blinked one eye after the other.

You were finally able to wind down for the night after what had been a long ordeal and a frightening several hours. Lilia spent the short span of time by your side, only giving you space when you bathed and even then he waited outside your door. He had proved to be a wise choice of protector given how many already tried their luck. Trein's idea had been a good one as the odd Bat already had to chase off several curious students, most just seeking to get a sniff or glance in your direction. In some ways you understood that you were an anomaly in their world and that made others curious, but at the same time you felt it was overboard for so many to be so keen to approach you.

Now you sat in the monstrously sized nest- courtesy of the Dragon that fixed up most of your current abode- with your errant guardian for the evening. Grim was curled up and fast asleep on one of the many pillows that littered the valleys and hills of blankets within the nest. You were just starting to doze off as well when you felt a warm and wet muscle trail over your skin. Naturally, you wanted to know just what on earth the strange Bat was doing and judging from the way he looked, he had actually just licked your cheek.

"Grooming you?"

"Why?"

"To help you sleep. Usually a quick bit of grooming makes Malleus and Sebek drift right off with no problem, Silver never needs much help in regards to sleep. Do Humans not groom one another?"

"... Not really. I mean, I guess they can but I don't think I've had someone literally lick me in order to clean me up."

"That wasn't a lick, that was grooming."

"You literally just licked my face."

"But I'm just grooming you?"

You stared at Lilia for a long moment, thinking back to the regular bats of your own world. Bats did often groom one another as a communal pastime, so it could be very possible he was simply doing the same for you. Though you figured these Human-like monsters would behave like Humans, there was still a high possibility that what was socially acceptable to these creatures was far beyond the realm of accepted for Humans. On top of the social disconnect you also realized that though Lilia had spoken of Humans before, he didn't really get all the aspects of Humanity or what you found acceptable.

Lilia seemed genuinely confused and hesitant. There was a strong part of him that still wanted to continue his nightly habits of lulling his nest companions to sleep before trying to rest himself. Still, he was not going to continue his semi-self-soothing communal grooming if you were angry with him over it. Not even getting his scent on you was worth making you genuinely displeased with him.

"Do you not want me to groom you?"

"... Does it help you sleep?"

"What?"

"You said it helps others sleep when you groom them, does it help you sleep too?"

"To groom or be groomed?"

"Both."

The Bat took a long moment to think as if he were honestly considering his own feelings on the matter. He didn't have to think about it for very long before he was nodding to your question.

"Yes. Both help me sleep. I am naturally nocturnal, so becoming diurnal for classes has been difficult on me. Getting my nestmates to sleep first usually helps me sleep. I wouldn't mind a bit of grooming for myself, but usually I'm the one putting others to sleep."

"... If it helps you sleep, then okay. Just... Don't get too excited, okay?"

"... Do you find grooming exciting?"

"No. Going to sleep now."

Lilia laughed softly at your curt response as you tried to close your eyes and drift off. It wasn't long into your attempt that the relaxed and wet strokes picked back up across your cheek. Perhaps he lied to you and only said it was normal. Perhaps it truly was normal for these monster men to participate in communal grooming.

You certainly didn't know and you weren't going to be awake long enough for it to matter. Maybe the Bat was right in that it helped soothe others to sleep as you were unconscious within a few moments of him starting back up.

~~~~~~~~

You woke to Grim batting at your nose with his paws. His bright blue eyes shining at you in the small light of the morning. The sun was not even above the horizon at that point and you vaguely wondered what it was the little feline-beast wanted.

"I'm hungry."

His voice was soft and a quick glance over your shoulder told you he was trying to avoid waking Lilia. The Bat was wrapped in his own wings and snuggled beneath a blanket, face completely smooth in deep rest. You similarly wanted to avoid waking your guard- both for time to yourself and because he seemed so peaceful- so you slipped out of the nest with Grim.

The halls were quiet as you made your way to the main level of the building, hoping the kitchen would be located there. Luck seemed to be on your side and you were thrilled to see both the kitchen and the food available to you. Apparently they were quite keen to keep you content and that meant giving you enough food as well.

The kitchen itself was more of an industrial type kitchen, a large sink for dishes, several ovens, large stovetop, multiple cabinets and one large fridge. Most of the pots and pans were present but seemed to have been unused for quite some time. Though the outside got fixed up, the kitchen recieved far less love. Still, you found the pans needed to get an idea of what you wanted to make. There were a handful of spices in old containers but it was slim pickings.

Despite the odd lacking of premade sauces and other such items, you knew enough to throw together a decent breakfast. It was early in the cooking process when Grim let out a sudden yowl and hiss towards the far side of the kitchen behind you. A door that led outside rattled open and you turned to see a frightening creature.

It looked like a Hyena that had been stretched and deformed into a Human shape, walking on hind legs that resembled that of a canine. The beast had shaggy fur that was a sandy blond color, darker browns spotting the pelt and highlighting the ridge of the Hyena's back. One of the most stunning and unsettling features of the creature was the bright blue eyes that looked far too Human.

As the creature's mouth opened a voice you didn't expect came from it. A light tenor that almost seemed to be accompanied by the cackle of a Hyena at the end of their sentences.

"Lookie here! Seems I found the new Human! Campus is abuzz about you crashing orientation yesterday and Leona wouldn't stop mentioning you."

You didn't know if the Hyena man was one you could trust or not and his oddly jerking motions unsettled you.

"But forget all that for now. What's that you're making? You wouldn't mind sharing some with your fellow student," a long tongue licked over his chops, "would you?"

"What were you doing out here so early?"

"Don't go being so suspicious of me, I'm a stand-up guy, shishishi. I was out gathering up some dandelions for my breakfast."

"... Dandelions?"

"What? Food's expensive here. Besides, guess I can call myself lucky coming across you like this."

The way the beast said this unsettled you and you felt more than a little cornered. Grim was quick to get between the two of you even though he was clearly untrusting of the Hyena as well.

"And what's that supposed ta mean?"

"Just saying whatever you're cooking smells good! It wouldn't be too much to add some more for me to have, right? You got all this food here, you may as well share it. Sides, Leona made it clear to all of Savanaclaw that we aren't supposed to put a single paw or claw on you."

You were partially tempted to call out for Lilia to get this monster away when you heard a heart-breaking sound. A long whining grumble came from the Hyena's stomach and he almost seemed to wince in response to the noise. It was the Hyena's stomach loudly rumbling for some food. After a moment of staring at the beast you noticed a bag at his side, leaves and bright yellow flowers sticking out of it and it was stuffed with more of the plants. Hyenas wouldn't eat just plants unless they had no other choice.

With a sigh you added more food to your pan, noticing the way the short tail of the Hyena man wagged excitedly. Grim crossed his short arms and continued to watch the newcomer with untrusting eyes, refusing to move from in between the two of you.

It was when your breakfast was almost done cooking that the Hyena suddenly changed in behavior. His ears flattened and his head bowed low, tail quickly tucking between his legs as he stared at the inside entrance to the kitchen. You glanced over to see the bright pink eyes of Lilia staring from the doorway with an almost threatening grin towards your uninvited guest. The momentary quiet made you quickly step in Lilia's path, trying to defend the odd Hyena from the Bat that was tasked with your safety.

"Wait, he was just hungry and he could smell my cooking."

"(Y/n), you have already been warned about those from Savanaclaw. Most of them were of the species that ate Humans. Gnolls like Ruggie over there were especially vicious to Humans."

"But he hasn't tried any of that today. I get that not everyone is safe, but he hasn't even tried to attack me. He just wants some breakfast. Lilia, please."

The Bat frowned slightly and gave a final glare at the blond furred beast- Ruggie the Gnoll, according to Lilia- before he relented to your pleas. Despite no longer threatening the Hyena, he made a clear show of moving himself to sit on a counter that allowed him to somewhat be inbetween you and Ruggie. It seemed Grim and Lilia both had the same idea in mind as they continued to stare the outsider down.

They only willingly broke eye contact with the hunched beast as you served four separate plates. Apparently even Lilia was keenly interested in your cooking and you could see the way the three set aside their distrust and happily dug in as you passed out the servings. Ruggie didn't even bother with cutlery as he gulped down the meal like a famished animal that hadn't eaten for days, lazily licking the plate when he was finished. Grim was similar and just shoveled food into his mouth with his little paws, his pronged tail waving excitedly. Lilia took the time to grab a fork, occasionally sending a mistrustful glare towards the Gnoll as he ate.

You felt comfortable enough to dig in as well, content that you managed to somewhat avoid conflict. It was becoming oddly normal to see the unusual beast men that lived in abundance around you, and you felt somewhat gratified to feed the clearly hungry Ruggie. The clear dandelions in his pouch told you that he didn't lie to you about gathering them up and you knew they were edible plants that even Humans could eat.

"Wow, Hooman, is this what you eat all the time?"

"It's a little bland actually, I was hoping there would be more spices and herbs in the cabinets, but there isn't even half as much as I was expecting. Some jellies and jams, but no bullion, no parsley, nothing like that."

It was then Lilia spoke up, talking in between bites as he was still working on his portion.

"Humans were the main cooks and culinary types before they died out. Most of us 'monster-men' as you call us don't need to cook our foods first and eating things raw is fairly normal. It is a treat to actually have a cooked meal in a lot of places, though some places Like the Queendom of Roses have grandfathered in pastries and other confections because of how much the Queendom loved Human cooking. Lots of us don't bother cooking because we don't have to, but I guarantee a cooked meal like this would bring a good portion of others to their knees."

You made a quick mental note of Lilia's comment and figured you could try using your cooking to sway others in your favor. Ruggie certainly seemed pleased as he made an attempt to swipe what remained of Lilia's food, earning him a quick swat from the Bat's wing. Maybe those from Savanaclaw weren't that bad, if Ruggie was anything to go off of.

~~~~~~~~

The bell rang as you tried to get to your first class, upset with yourself that you turned down Lilia's offer to show you to your classes for the day. Grim was no help since he was just as lost as you but he did seem to be enough to discourage most students from getting too close. No one really tried to talk to you and all just seemed curious in your scent or reaching out as if to touch you. A quick flame from Grim was enough to dissuade them so far but the ever curious eyes continued to follow you.

When you finally reached the door to what seemed to be the right class, a figure stepped in your way and blocked you. Standing between you and the door was a Goat man with orange hair and twisting horns atop his head. On his left eye was a red heart.

"So you're the Human everyone is losing their minds over. Don't look like much to me. You don't even have magic to defend yourself if I decided to hurt you right now."

He laughed a sinister sound as he grinned hatefully at you. Grim was clearly trying to make himself seem bigger than he was, even spreading his tattered wings out to somewhat shield you despite how little they covered. The blue fire that always seemed to burn on Grim's ears burned brighter as the grey cat-beast prepared himself to fight this goat man who seemed keen to stop you from entering the classroom.

"Ace, Housewarden Riddle told us to leave the Human alone."

It was then another Goat man approached from behind the first, looking distinctly different from the orange-haired short-horned Goat that tried to block you. This second one had large Ram horns that spiraled from the top of his head down to the sides of his chin, his dark blue hair complementing his bright blue eyes. Over his right eye was the card suit of spades. His lower half was the same as the first and seemed to be goat legs with a tail flicking behind him. You could just barely see the little white spots along the top of his tail as he pushed the first Goat forward with a glare on his face.

"And who the hell are you to enforce that rule, Deuce? You're just a first-year like me."

"And we were told to not heckle the Human."

"Don't tell me you think this Human is worth being upset over?"

"I didn't say that. I'm saying you need to leave her alone."

"Why don't you make me?"

Both seemed to be ready to have a go at one another, heads slightly tilted forward so their horns were pointed at the other. It almost looked like they were going to headbutt each other until one of them relented. It was during this argument that another voice cut in, making both Goats straighten up quickly.

"Why aren't you freshmen in class already?"

The voice belonged to what looked like a centaur man with green hair, his lower half was that of a white stallion. He wore thick black rimmed glasses and had the card suit of clubs beneath his left eye. His eyes were a golden brown that seemed almost yellow when compared to his unusual green hair.

As he trotted over the two Goats quickly seemed to break up their fight, refusing to look the man in the eye even as he looked down at the four of you with his arms crossed. The man seemed to get a good look at your little group before his gaze came to a halt on you, quickly looking you up and down in surprise. He seemed to recognize you rather quickly as he uncrossed his arms, that small displeased frown disappearing from his face.

"Oh, you're the- right. Riddle did say you would be attending classes. Doesn't make much sense to me to throw you into classes with this lot, but I guess it does make it easier for the professors to keep an eye on you."

His smile dropped ever so slightly into a glare as he looked over at the two Goats. That glare then seemed to change into a wicked grin as if he just got an idea.

"How helpful of the two of you to volunteer to show the Human to her classes today."

"Wha- I didn't volunteer for that-!"

"If you don't want to sleep outside with one of Riddle's collars on, I would suggest you both step up and stop fighting."

"Of course out of every upperclassmen we run into, it has to be Trey..."

"So good of you two first-year boys to step up like this. I will be checking in at lunch and if there is a single scratch anywhere on her I'm having Riddle collar the both of you."

The one with orange hair- Ace- stomped his hoof in anger at the much larger male, seeming aghast that he was given an assignment. Deuce seemed less displeased but had a clear frown on his face. Grim was already on board with staying by you given the fact you were his ticket to a comfortable bed and good food.

"If you're so worried, do it yourself!"

"I could tell both Riddle and Professor Trein right now that you two knuckleheads were trying to stop her from getting to class and trying to bully her. I'm sure that would look great on your school records, and you'll certainly have fun not being able to use any magic with Riddle's collars on."

This seemed to unnerve Ace more than the prior threat had as his eyes widened and he took a quick step back. Both Goats had to weigh the potential risks and rewards of the situation but quickly came to the conclusion that it was best to do what the Horse man told them to. You didn't know anything about this supposed collaring business, but you did recognize the name Riddle as the Unicorn that had yelled at Grim the night before.

"Hey, hey, why is everyone standing out here? Thought classes already started, so is everyone just late?"

Another new voice interrupted and Grim's ears flicked in clear frustration at all of the new faces that seemed so keen to heckle the two of you. He was quick to turn to you now that the threat was gone and use his little claws to climb up the leg of your pants and into your arms. For such a sassy little creature, Grim certainly was keen to have you carry him around when there wasn't any threat of danger.

Approaching the now growing group of students standing outside of the classroom was a red-haired man with bright green eyes. He almost seemed to saunter over to the group as he held up his phone, the sound of a camera coming from it multiple times before before he came to a halt.

"Hold on, just need to post this to Magicam and add the right tags... #froshes #latebuddies #skipday... And post!"

"Wait, Cater, don't- please tell me you didn't post a picture of us just now."

"Of course I did! Gotta keep my followers up to date on the haps at school."

"At least tell me you blurred the Human out of the photo?"

"Oh, she's here? Wait, don't tell me," the man now known as Cater was quick to get uncomfortably close to you, making Grim's ears flatten back on his head, "you're the new Human on campus! Gotta absolutely get a selfie with you and post it for Magicam, none of my non-NRC followers believe that a Human crashed our orientation! Pics so I can prove it happened! Smile!"

You tried to pull away from the overly enthusiastic man as he held up his phone and snapped two pictures before you managed to wriggle away from his grasp. He didn't seem to be put off by your behavior at all as he quickly tapped away at his phone with a smile. Trey, however, slapped the phone out of Cater's hands quickly.

"Are you crazy, Cater?"

"Woah, Trey? What's the big deal? You're usually never this riled up."

"Tell me you didn't post that selfie already."

"Just pressed post when you hit my phone outta my hands. Not cool, Trey. Totes being so unkind to Cay-cay."

"Cater!"

"What?"

"Why would you post a picture of an extinct species to the internet? Riddle told us to try and keep others from taking pictures of her and you just go right ahead and post it?"

"What's the big deal? It's not like it's illegal or something."

Trey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking several deep breaths to try and calm himself. You were able to tell why Trey was mad but it seemed like Ace, Deuce, and Cater had no idea what the big deal was when he just took a picture with you. Meanwhile you were wondering if you should tell a Professor what happened and hope the older magic users could do more to help you than the students.

"Seems you all have plenty of time to talk instead of get to your classes, so how about a few extra assignments for you lot?"

The interrupting voice was a thankfully familiar one to you as you saw the limping gait of a familiar flying-cat man approaching. His steeley eyes were narrowed in annoyance as he drew closer, in his arms lay a black and white cat that seemed more than content to be carried around. You were surprised to see a normal cat in this strange world of monsters, but you figured there had to be some normal animals if these guys found eating one another as appalling as eating Humans seemed to be.

"Professor Trein."

You greeted the man quickly and the scowl disappeared from his face as he realized you were the one talking to him.

"Ah, (Y/n), I saw you would be in my class this morning. Are these students showing you around? I thought Lilia was your chosen guide."

"I told Lilia I didn't need help finding my classes, but I was wrong."

"Hm, then hopefully these boys have been aiding you thus far? You are at my classroom after all."

"Well, about that..."

"What happened?"

Trey interrupted the conversation then, seeming less upset and more exasperated than anything. Ace had been trying to sneak away, but the Horse man caught the back of his shirt and kept him from running off. He didn't even need to look at Ace to grab him and instead kept his attention on Trein.

"Cater posted a picture of (Y/n) to Magicam."

"... He what?"

Cater picked up his phone, pouting at the crack in the screen and whining loudly about it. He turned the phone to Trey as if to show the damage but Professor Trein snatched it from his hands, frustratedly tapping the dark screen as his cat climbed up to his shoulders to free up his hands. He didn't seem to get very far before turning it back to Cater in frustration.

"Unlock your phone, Mr. Diamond."

"What's the big deal? I just wanted to show off the Human."

"That is the 'big deal'! Why would you post a picture of an extinct species for anyone to see?"

"It's not like people are gonna show up just to see a Human-"

"Cater, I am now assigning you an essay due by tomorrow on the history of Humans since you clearly haven't paid attention to your course work from last year. You will also be deleting that picture and any others you make have taken of (Y/n)."

Another noise of complaint left the redhead as if he were about to start complaining but Trein silenced him with a glare.

"Fine, fine. Not like anyone is gonna do anything because of it- no way! This is the most likes any of my pics have gotten right after posting! That was no time at all-"

"Delete it!"

"I can delete the photos from my account, but its already been downloaded at least fifty times. Deleting it now won't do much-"

"Enough. Cater, to the Headmage's office, now. The rest of you get to your classes. I will be in to teach shortly, but first I need to notify the Headmage about this."

Trey herded you and the other two students into the room, closing the door behind you rather loudly. You could still hear Trein scolding Cater from behind the door and you all quickly took your seats. To your surprise, the only open seat was between the two Goats and they didn't seem all too upset by this fact. Though they seemed angry at being volunteered to be your guides, they weren't about to complain about it now with an angry professor right outside of the classroom.

You had no idea what Magicam was, but from the sounds of it, it must have been some kind of photo sharing application like Instagram from your world. If that was the case, the rest of this messed up world was about to realize that there was a Human sheltering at Night Raven College, and you were terrified at the idea of what that would mean for you.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

This quote is so heartbreaking

Newly estranged relationship😭😭😭 is bad enough but then to follow that with there’s no one in Eddie’s life really is soul destroying.

Buck supporting Eddie through this is a given - the very literal visual metaphor of Buck being at Eddie’s back - of having his back as well as being the supporting hand on his shoulder we saw at the end of the season as Chris left. This is the next phase of that and how it looks remains to be seen. The way this is worded suggests that Chris is going to refuse contact with Eddie - at least initially and that is going to really hurt Eddie.

To me it feels like we might see Buck being in contact with Chris and therefore being able to feed back to Eddie to be the one connection to Chris he has. But also then become some sort of mediator for them as things settle and time and distance allows perspective to be gained and anger to settle. This channel of communication between buck and Chris and Eddie is something we’ve seen develop through the seasons - Buck being a safe space for Chris - someone not his father he can talk to and open up to or go to for help, and also someone Eddie can do the same things with.

It feels like it’s very much going to be a continuation of that established dynamic and a way of tightening the bonds between the three of them further in the long run. It truly is very coparent loaded and really a compelling narrative to explore.

The no one in Eddie’s life really quote also is loaded. It gives rise to the concept that his reltionship with his parents is going to deteriorate as well - that they may refuse to give him information on Chris or not take his calls, not involve him in decisions about Chris that really should have his input.

I found Ryan saying Eddie’s going to lean on buck very interesting as well - especially as he also said

Bucks going to lean on Eddie as well. (Also second mentions of the relationship flourishing and being stronger than ever!)

The fact this is in direct opposition to what Tim said - that Eddie is going to end up feeling a bit out in the cold because Buck will be spending more time with Tommy is interesting. Because which one is it?

Obviously Tim likes to spin his words so they never mean what he actually says. So I take all his interviews with a pinch of salt but I do think we will see that distance he spoke about because it’s good for Eddie to have that space for himself.

Well it can actually be that both are true and that is really interesting from a story telling perspective - and not exactly as a point of conflict, but as a way of juxtaposing Eddie and Tommy - it’s the pulling of the triangle that Buck Eddie and Tommy form.

This idea that Buck is going to be dealing with Gerrard and pushing back against a very different authority figure to bobby has a lot of potential for Buck and his journey of self discovery and self love and acceptance that his arc seems to be set up for this season. I don’t want to talk about Buck and BT in a meta about Eddie though!

I’m really interested to see how Eddie let’s buck lean on him and what that support looks like. Because it will be exactly what Buck needs - Eddie understands Buck and how to nudge him in the right direction - it’s a key part of their dynamic and, I’m of the opinion that we’re going to see s8 as a sort of s3 redux so I think this next iteration of buck and Eddie’s relationship - with Eddie also leaning on Buck is going to be the fight club/ lawsuit arc but in juxtaposition. Whereas in s3 they didn’t lean on each other and support one another, this time they will - it will show how much they’ve changed and grown and trust one another since s3 and how much depth there is to them as a unit. (Which will also be a perfect juxtaposition of how little buck and Tommy know and trust one another!)

[demonic0angel]

Celestial Bodies AU (5/?)

(Part one, part two, part three, part four. Also on AO3)

Robin sighed as he sat in the passenger seat beside Batman. Another night of patrol had ended semi-peacefully with thankfully no injuries, but Batman still didn't look happy. He was still in the process of accepting Robin as his partner again, and it tired him out trying to mediate and smooth sharp edges. Everything was just exhausting.

The both of them began turning into the cave, where Nightwing was already standing next to the computers when both Batman and Robin entered. He seemed to have just finished his own patrol, but was still in his uniform.

Robin paused when he saw him.

He looked angry.

That was what usually happened between Nightwing and Batman. The two of them fought like dogs and cats over Robin’s presence and training. When one suggested one thing, the other would argue like their lives depended on it.

(In a way, it did. Robin’s life depended on it.

… or at least, Robin’s life had depended on it.)

Sometimes, he understood why Nightwing was so angry.

If he was disobedient, he could get injured. He didn’t know how many times Nightwing had pushed that idea into his head.

(And although Tim wished he was, he was not Jason. That Robin would never come back, no matter how much Batman tried to pretend he did.)

Both Batman and Robin exited the car and Robin went straight towards Nightwing.

“Hey,” Nightwing called out, his grimace switching out to a small smile, just like a performer would, “how was patrol?”

“It’s been an easy night tonight,” Robin said, peeling off his mask to give Nightwing a smile. “How was yours?”

Nightwing gave a singular nod and then a shrug.

So probably nothing worth noting either.

Batman was silent, taking off his gloves and cape on the other side of the cave.

Robin studied Nightwing’s face.

He was a pretty boy through and through, with long hair in a mullet style and a light smile on his face that made him shine like the sun. To Robin, Nightwing was his goal and his idol. He wanted more than anything to show him that his decision to allow and help him become Robin was not a mistake.

He looked right back at Robin, his eyes considering.

“Nightwing,” Robin began carefully, “did you want to tell me something?”

There was a beat of silence.

Nightwing paused. Then he nodded slowly, “Actually, yes. I wanted to ask you if you wanted to meet the cluster.”

Robin's eyes widened.

The Phantom Cluster was an important part of the Justice League’s history and the survival of the planet. Every time something apocalyptic was about to occur, the King of the cluster would warn the Justice League. On occasion, they would also communicate with their hosts through dreams and visions, and prevent even more disasters.

The hosts of the Phantom clusters were only Robins. No matter how much any other hero tried to appeal to them, the stars only favored the wards under Batman.

Though they also seemed to like the younger heroes a lot, having no problem helping them. Tim had heard that Dick’s star had given his personal approval for Starfire and had actually watched out for the Teen Titans before.

The cluster had always loved the Robins.

(Nightwing had called his bonded star, "mine," and his star had responded back in kind. Jason's nickname for his own star was supposedly "Princess." She had called him "dearest" and from what Nightwing would say, their bond was very strong.

It made something inside of Tim ache.)

Essentially, this was possibly an invitation for Tim to get his own star, if it was true that the cluster bonded to all Robins.

Batman, however, whipped his head around and snarled. “Absolutely not! You are forbidden from seeing the cluster!”

Nightwing’s attitude immediately changed as well. He rolled his eyes and snapped, “Who are you to decide that? You don’t have a damn leg to stand on!”

Robin eyed him. He suddenly felt his heart twinge at the thought that it was his fault that he made them start arguing again. The two of them continued arguing and it wasn’t until Alfred came down into the cave that he spoke up.

“Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion. All of the previous Robins met the cluster, so what's the big deal?" He said, trying to defuse the situation.

“Yes,” Batman spat, “all of the previous Robins met the cluster, and one of them died.”

Robin winced.

“Don’t you dare blame them for Jason,” Nightwing snarled. “If I can’t blame you, you can’t blame them either. They lost a sibling too!”

Robin did not speak again as he thought about the situation.

He wanted to meet them. All of the files on the Batcomputer about the Phantom Cluster had him locked out. All he knew was that it was a cluster made of sentient stars and planets and two of them had chosen an individual Robin to keep as a “host”. When Jason had died, his star had died with him. Everything else were anecdotes from Dick, who clearly loved them and his star very much.

But in order to be Robin, he also needed to meet them. The cluster made deals with all of the previous Robins. Now that there was a new one, would things be easier if he also became a host with a star?

(And maybe, just maybe, Bruce will accept him if he had a star of his own too.)

Robin started to speak again, "I—"

“No. That cluster has been nothing but trouble. Robin, I forbid you to go!” Bruce roared.

Robin gulped and shivered. The pure rage in Batman’s tone suddenly made him worried for what he was going to do. Nightwing wrapped a protective arm around him and pulled him back.

“The Cluster has never hurt a Robin before.”

“He. Will. Not. Be going,” Batman growled.

Alfred coughed into a fist and everyone shut up and looked at him. Robin tried not to move but he couldn’t help but try to press closer to Nightwing.

"Master Bruce," Alfred said sternly, "may I speak with you?"

Bruce wilted and then trudged after the true patriarch of the Wayne family.

It was almost funny, but Robin was still tense as Nightwing glared at the retreating back of their mentor and guardian. Alfred turned slightly to wink at him, and he relaxed with a faint smile.

Robin stared at Nightwing.

"... Nightwing?" He asked carefully.

Nightwing softened further as he looked at him. "Yes, Tim?"

"... it's okay if I don't go, right?"

Nightwing's eyebrows immediately went up to his hairline. It was like he couldn't believe that he would not want to go see the cluster.

Robin grimaced. He corrected himself hurriedly, "I mean— I want to go, but—"

"Tim, it's okay. If you don't want to go, it's fine. But to be honest, I'd rather have you go at least once. The cluster... they've always been allies of us Robins. I'd like you to meet my star, at least."

Us Robins. That thought made Robin pause.

Nightwing always tried to be accommodating and gentle with him. The thought of disappointing him gave him determination.

Robin shook his head and said in a firm tone, "No, I want to go."

Nightwing grinned. "Let's go now, then."

Robin glanced back at where Alfred and Batman had left.

"Don't worry about him. I'll take care of it, okay? I'll say that I forced you or something. B is just a paranoid asshole."

Robin's lips twitched but he nodded quickly and followed Nightwing. The two of them entered the teleportation tube that was installed in the cave and then away they went.

When they landed in the space station, Nightwing immediately locked the doors so nobody would enter.

Robin eyed him. Nightwing gave an innocent smile back and said, "It's just in case he decides to come after us."

Robin didn't say a word as Nightwing lead them through the metal halls before they finally ended up in the main room, where windows covered all of the walls, revealing a beautiful starry world outside of the space shuttle.

Robin gasped as he stared out the window at the close stars and planets. They were so close that Robin could almost see the surface of each star move and shift. Thankfully, the tinted windows allowed them to look directly at them.

"Hello, my star," Nightwing breathed and the stars remained silent. Nightwing didn't seem angry, just sad as he pressed his forehead and left hand to the glass, sighing.

Beyond the glass, the stars inched around an empty space, where the Jason's star used to stay.

Robin bit his lip again.

Jason's death had not only hurt Batman and Gotham, but also the heavens.

He might not have known it, but he was so very loved.

Nightwing exhaled again and then stood up straight. He looked at Robin with a thin smile and beckoned him forward.

"Come on. They don't bite."

Robin came forward, eyes darting towards the stars with silent awe and reverence. The stars and planets glittered and shone with a brilliance that matched the Sun, and Robin couldn't help but stare at the sentient celestial objects that floated in the sky.

"They're beautiful, right?" Nightwing said, and it startled him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. They are," he agreed, because if he said otherwise, it would've been a lie.

It was awe-inspiring (and a little bit terrifying) to see somethings so big and large that were benevolent enough to help them.

It made Robin feel smaller than ever.

Nightwing hummed.

The communicator crackled then, taking away the sound of ocean waves and faint TV static.

Nightwing whipped his head around and Robin followed, staring between the communicator and the window, where the stars lied in silence.

"Hello," a thousand voices called and a shiver ran down Robin's spine.

Like the chorus of angels, a symphony of voices, a choir of sirens, the voices were soft and gentle.

They sounded sad. Tired. Wane.

Robin felt like it was odd that he understood what they were feeling, but he said nothing as he looked at Nightwing's face, which was tinged with the same exhaustion in the stars' tones.

"Hello. This is..." Nightwing gestured to him, "Robin. I'd like to introduce you to him."

The sound of ocean waves again. Robin felt his stomach swoop and drop.

Had they rejected him?

He knew he wasn't Jason, but he had to do it. In order for Batman to be the best hero that he could be for Gotham's sake, he needed a Robin.

Nightwing placed a hand on his shoulder and Robin tried to breathe past the panic.

The voices came back and said, ".... we know."

A different voice differentiated itself from the rest. It was distinctly masculine and adult-sounding, unlike the androgynous and childish voices of the others.

"My Nightwing," the voice called softly and Nightwing beamed.

"My star," he returned the call with a nod and a smile.

Nightwing's star continued, "Our little sister wants to make a deal with Robin. If he wants."

Robin startled. "Who?"

Hope filled inside of him. He wasn’t rejected after all!

Nightwing chuckled. "The little sister of the cluster is the protostar. That one, right there."

He pointed outside, towards a small, bow-tie shaped cloud of dust and gas, all of it converging into one center. She spun and consumed nebula swiftly, but did not move otherwise.

"That's the little sister?" Robin tilted his head.

She was oddly... vulnerable. With the way the other stars and planets circled the point of their cluster, and the way they directed the nebula towards her, they were clearly very protective of her.

"Yep," Nightwing said, but he was quickly interrupted.

There was a crackle from the communicator and then an angry hum like that of a buzzing hornet. Robin flinched and looked at Nightwing, who suddenly burst out laughing.

"My star! Please, Robin isn't going to take her away!"

Another angry hum, though less loud and more indignant.

Robin blinked and then relaxed. His lips twitched and he asked, "Is your star jealous that I'm looking at her?"

"He's the most jealous star I know," Nightwing said, in a loud and teasing tone that was clearly meant to be heard by the stars. "Such a sis-con."

Robin snorted, suddenly feeling a little better. He looked at Nightwing, who now looked more relaxed and encouraging. "You can talk to them," he said. "I promise, they're nice."

Robin nodded firmly and stepped up the communicator. "Uhm. Hello," he said, then winced from the awkwardness.

Silence again, and then, a soft, "Hello, Robin."

The word “Robin” was said with so much unspoken affection that it made him flustered. He stuttered then, but as Nightwing looked at him encouragingly, he continued.

Robin took a deep breath and said slowly, "I'd like to make a deal with the protostar, if that's okay. I can't promise that I'll be a good host, but I promise that I'll be the best host I can be. I'll take care of her and Batman too."

Silence.

Robin glanced back at Nightwing, who was grinning widely and giving an enthusiastic double thumbs-up.

Robin turned back as the communicator crackled once more and then the stars said, "Okay."

One voice in particular, softer than the others and lighter, spoke up then. "Let's make a deal, Robin."

She sounded tired, like she was struggling to stay awake and Robin felt his tone softening as he spoke to her, "Okay. I'll make a deal with you. We'll protect each other, okay?"

The protostar said softly, "I'll protect you."

Robin knew that she purposefully did not mention how he would protect her. He knew it, and he felt like he should've said something to make it fair, but the reassurance that she would be there for him suddenly made him breathless. He felt like he was robbed of all oxygen as he stared at the sky and suddenly understood why Nightwing was so fiercely and deeply protective of the cluster, even against Bruce.

They were kind. So very kind despite being cursed children who had become stars.

"Okay," he said slowly, already feeling a deep affection for his star blooming in his chest, "okay."

He instinctively put his hand on the glass and a bright light, flashing and fast, shot out of the nebula cloud she was consuming and flew towards him. It struck the glass and hot warmth entered Robin's body and then into his side.

He paused, taking a deep breath to calm his heart from racing before he opened his tunic, already knowing where the fated mark was.

On his left side, around the area of his ribs, was a four pointed star, white and pastel yellows and blues slowly tattooing itself into his side.

He beamed. "Dick! Look!" He had accidentally called him by his civilian identity, but Nightwing didn't seem to care as he bound forward and then picked him up and twirled him around.

"You did it! You've got your own star!"

Robin beamed.

He was accepted as a Robin and got his very own star from the Phantom cluster!

He wished he could've heard them singing, like Nightwing used to talk about, or maybe made a deal with his star in happier circumstances, but this was nice too.

Nightwing was still cheering and celebrating, but Robin couldn't help but look out past the stars. His protostar spun in place a little, looking a little more cheerful and he smiled.

"Thank you, Robin," she whispered and Robin grinned.

"No, thank you.... partner." That seemed like a good nickname for her.

A beat of silence from her and then she said, in a slightly more upbeat tone, "You too, partner!"

"Pfftt— you're like a couple of cowboys," Nightwing muffled his laugh.

Robin rolled his eyes and shoved him lightly. "Shut up, Dick. You're the one with the creepy, "my star" thing."

Nightwing gasped and put a hand to his chest dramatically.

"Y'know what? You're grounded! I won't take this slander anymore!"

Robin laughed and as the tension bled out from previous days of mourning and grief, he almost wanted to believe that things would be okay again.

He looked out the sky, as Nightwing put him in a headlock, and watched the stars begin to move slowly, as if suddenly gaining the energy to do so.

He watched that empty hole in space be avoided and he thought of Jason again.

No matter what would happen, he would make him and the stars proud.

————

Bruce seemed resigned when he came back bonded. He didn't say anything and just went to his room. Usually, Tim would've been worried, but he wasn't too concerned since he was so excited about having a star for himself.

Dick gave him the codes to unlock the files on the Phantom Cluster and Tim dove right in without hesitation.

He researched everything he could about the cluster, from what they told the Justice League, from Dick's own secret files that he sent over into his computer, from astronomy websites, and he even hacked into NASA's database on stars and astronomical bodies.

Tim finally found another purpose besides being Robin.

He was his star's host.

Being a host for a star belonging to the Phantom Cluster meant many things. For one, their condition reflected on their stars.

If Robin was whole and healthy, so would his star. If he was sick or tired, it would show on his star too.

For another, being a host meant being protected and watched over by the stars.

Nightwing had mentioned before that sometimes, the stars gave them powers. Robin had a hypothesis that with each host being bonded to a star, the powers that they were able to gain grew stronger or increased, since he discovered new abilities that were not recorded since he was bonded to his own star.

A lot of it were minuscule, barely able to make a difference unless it was a split second thing, when Robin miraculously needed just a little push to solve a mystery, fight crime, evade a dangerous situation, or defeat a bad guy.

Nightwing had mentioned before that he had never had a bad landing after being bonded, and that he had a small immunity to heat and fire. He had also said that sometimes, bullets would mysteriously be unable to hit him, but this was a hit-or-miss thing (quite literally) and didn't always happen, so Robin still had to be able to dodge well.

In the reports, the previous Robin mentioned how he would occasionally get brief, sporadic dreams of the future. Every once in a while, he would sleepwalk, and as if possessed, wake up with a new plan, an unknown secret, or an important clue in the morning. After the previous Robin had gotten his star, Nightwing had supposedly gained the same ability on the occasion, and even Robin discovered that ability, which proved his hypothesis.

Robin himself, had odd bouts of good luck, often causing him to end fights or solve cases even faster than Batman could. At other times, the good luck manifested in things like finding an unusual number of heads-facing pennies that were printed in 1943, or finding lost items whenever he lost them. When Robin fell asleep, nightmares were scarce and he would sometimes feel a weight against his side, as if he was resting next to someone with their head on his shoulder.

(When he woke up, he would feel refreshed, but with a slightly melancholy and loneliness. He wondered if it was from his star.)

Robin wanted to be depended on. He wanted to be important and loved and cared for, and his star was everything he wanted.

For her, he wanted to improve.

He trained under several masters, he made enemies and friends, he joined other hero teams, and he even created his own team, the Young Justice. Bruce’s team grew too, with Cass and Stephanie and others joining them in order to help Gotham City.

Every day, he grew older and his star grew alongside him, an eternal beacon.

She spun and whirled like a hurricane, absorbing and eating nebula and growing stronger, almost converging into a sphere as if she was about to begin her transformation into a star.

And then everything changed when Jason's star came back.

————

Both he and Dick had been in the space shuttle when she had reappeared.

The black mass that used to be the quasar still remained, still and quiet, but the other stars seemed to have gain energy from her silent presence. They spun around her happily, as she loomed over them with her inky presence, bending light around her like a lightless black hole.

With her arrival, it meant that Jason had come back.

And with Jason’s return, so did the Batman’s interest in the stars.

“How do they know?” He growled, as they poured over information and audio logs of the interviews of the stars. “How do they know what happens? Did they know that Jason would die and come back?”

Nightwing glared at him, but said tersely, “I don’t know. From what we know, their ability to read the future comes from Clockwork. He visits them and tells them information.”

Robin lifted his eyes up from the paper, which had a picture of his star on it.

“We’ve never seen Clockwork before, have we? We don’t know much about him either.”

“He seems to be an authority figure or warden for the cluster. They speak highly of him, but are purposefully vague,” Nightwing mused, rubbing his chin in thought. “I think I remember my star mentioning once that Clockwork helped him with his past.”

“So… he’s probably also a parental figure,” Robin said, and Nightwing nodded thoughtfully.

Batman looked exhausted, his cowl pulled down off of his head as he bent over the table with an almost inaudible creak of his back and stared intensely at the papers.

Jason’s star had come back, but there were no traces of Jason except an empty grave. They had all been too late when arriving at his grave, only to be met with a coffin that had been broken in from the inside. Whatever had happened, Jason had dug himself out on his own.

Robin knew that it killed Nightwing and Batman inside to imagine the boy they considered as family carving himself out of his own coffin.

The two of them were almost inconsolable at first, but they quickly gathered themselves up again and started investigating.

The cluster was surprisingly unhelpful, not even answering Nightwing when he asked questions about Jason. The only thing his star had said was, “Be patient.”

It was such a hauntingly simple and frustrating answer, exactly like what one would expect coming from an all-powerful and all-knowing being that lived for an unknown amount of years stuck with a child’s mind. Nightwing and Robin did not begrudge them, knowing that they were also protecting the quasar's secrets and bond with the other Robin, but Batman could not say the same.

Of course, they didn’t let that hold them down.

For the first time, Robin had been able to hear the song of the stars.

It was gorgeous. It was still soft, like waking up from a deep sleep, and sometimes it cut off like a bad connection, but Nightwing had looked relieved at the sound of it.

“There’s still another voice missing,” Nightwing had said sadly, “Jason’s quasar— her voice isn’t in the song.”

It already sounded so nice, with the melodic voices of the stars and planets and Dick’s star singing along, so if the loss of one voice was making it incomplete, just how beautiful was the sound when they were all together?

For many reasons, Robin wanted to find Jason.

He was reluctant to continue being Robin for awhile, but Nightwing convinced him to stay.

Once Jason was back, he would give back the suit.

“There’s something we’re missing,” Batman said slowly. “We need to review the facts.”

Nightwing nodded and looked at Robin encouragingly.

Robin began, “Okay. So on XX, XX of this year, we discovered that Jason Todd was revived or in some capacity, alive due to his star returning. He… dug his way out of the coffin himself, but has disappeared for now. The cluster seems to be aware of his movements and location, but is not planning to tell us where or why. The question is, how did Jason come back to life? Where is he, and if he's not in Gotham, did someone take him?”

Nightwing sighed. “We don’t have a lot of information. It’s just a whole bunch of what-ifs and wheres.”

Batman was silent, brooding.

Robin thought some more and then asked, slowly, “Have we reviewed the footage of the cluster before? What if… what if Jason’s star didn’t come back at the time that we thought?”

Nightwing blinked. “What do you mean?”

Batman, however, nodded suddenly. “I think I see what you’re saying. We should review the footage. Nightwing, maybe the time you noticed the star coming back isn’t accurate.”

“What! But I had been coming there every day!” Nightwing said, but then paused. His eyes went wide, and then rushed to the computer.

Batman patted Robin on the shoulder, making warmth ooze in his chest. Batman said with a cold, but vaguely grateful expression, “Good job on the new lead, Robin.”

Robin beamed.

They rewound the camera footage of the cluster which were all kept in the files, since Dick liked rewatching them.

And just as Robin suspected, it was true.

The empty space where the quasar had sat before her demise had not been as empty as Nightwing had thought. For at least a few days before her return as a black star, she had been very small and only noticeable in how light slightly bent around her tiny shape.

She had been shadowed and covered by her siblings until her final reveal and Jason’s ultimate return.

Nightwing covered his face. He seemed to be struggling to find the words on what to say.

Eventually, he said, strangled, “I should’ve looked closer. If I had known, we would’ve found Jason sooner!”

Batman sighed. “Don’t beat yourself up.” Both Robin and Nightwing looked at him with surprise. He sighed again and said, “I am… aware that I‘ve been upset and hostile of the Phantom Cluster. But ultimately, you are still bonded with them and they still offer you some semblance of protection. I am... also grateful that they gave us a chance to know that Jason is back. At least we know now that Jason had dug himself out a few days earlier.”

The three of them looked at each other.

Jason was going to be found and brought back to them. No matter what.

A few months later, almost 6 months after Jason's return, the silent mass that was Jason’s star suddenly bloomed into a protostar, larger than Robin’s. She was a ginormous, funneling top of blue and red nebula, quickly consuming the stellar remnants in the galaxy.

“… what does this mean?” Nightwing muttered as he stared at the footage of her new form. The other stars were cheerfully circling around their sibling again, their song now joined in by their returned sister. “Is he back for real? Was he not back before? Does this mean that he wasn't himself or something?"

Robin was silent, listening to the song. True to Nightwing’s words, the song was beautiful and ethereal.

It was a heaven’s choir, a siren’s song, a mother’s lullaby. It was beautiful in all sorts of ways. The sound was cold and sent shivers down his spine but oddly enough, he welcomed it.

“Do you think he’s… mad?” Robin asked. He felt strangely serene as he listened to the song of the stars.

“… hm?”

“Do you think Jason is mad that I’m Robin and that’s why he’s not coming home?”

Nightwing stared at him with such horror and disbelief that Robin quickly backtracked.

“It’s fine. He’s going to come home,” his tone was firm, hiding his inner insecurities. “The stars foretell it.”

Time passed and Jason’s star remained as a protostar, his own star often twirling around her in happy circles. Both sisters were cute to look at, especially because one was so big and the other was so small. The two of them spun cheerfully around each other, being fed nebula by their family, and Robin watched it all.

Of course, while the stars were in stasis, he was not.

He continued his duties as Robin, made secrets between only Nightwing and the stars, helped others and lived on, even when his mom was killed and his dad was paralyzed and in a coma. He could not prevent it because he had not known.

It was a cruel, cruel fact that the heavens did not care for civilian lives when they were lost.

(The stars did not care much for anyone but the Robins. It was a thought both flattering and terrifying.)

When his dad found out about him being Robin, he was forced to quit. He handed his uniform to Stephanie to keep safe for him, and then he was… normal again.

His protostar seemed unhappy with the decision, but thankfully not with him, because when he climbed onto the roof of the Drake manor to talk to her, she responded back just as eagerly as always. However, she had stopped moving, a sign of either displeasure, discomfort, or something from the future.

“Do I come back to being Robin?” He remembered whispering to her one night, and her answering twinkle made his heart swell.

He liked feeling important, but he also never truly wanted it. The pain and suffering that came from being a hero truthfully scared him. It was only the thought of Batman and Nightwing, as well as his star, that kept him from quitting all together when he first found out that Jason was back.

But he could admit to himself that he liked the feeling of flying through the air, beating bad guys, and saving people. He liked the feeling of recognition and attention.

He didn’t mind not being a hero for a little while. At least he knew that he would come back in the future.

Soon, Stephanie donned the Robin uniform, and at first, Tim could admit that he had been worried. She was reckless and foolhardy, but she was a good person with a keen eye for puzzles and problem-solving. He wanted her to succeed and in order to do so, she needed to meet the cluster.

It had been him who introduced her to her own celestial object and he was also the one who taught her about the Phantom Cluster and their abilities.

The both of them bonded over endearing and anthropomorphic astronomical bodies and Tim was the one who taught her to be Robin too, since Batman seemed insistent on kicking her down. It was difficult to make plans while Tim’s dad was also adamant on driving Stephanie away, but they made it work.

It was a peaceful night, as Tim snuck onto his roof and Stephanie quickly followed with a picnic blanket that was spread over his house shingles. It had been years since the both of them first met and then began working together in the hero scene, boosting each other up with their stars by their side. Now they were good friends after dating for a while and then Tim breaking up with her due to his change in status from a vigilante to civilian.

As they were chatting under the moon, with a tablet holding footage of their respective celestial objects, everything changed.

The song of the stars had cut off slowly, grinding to a halt and making both of them pause in their conversation.

“Uh. They just stopped singing. What does that mean?” Stephanie asked nervously.

Tim stared at the tablet and reached over to bring it closer. “… sometimes it means that there’s something we need to know or something is happening. I wonder what’s going on.”

He knew that Dick was also mostly likely noticing something was up as well.

Both Stephanie and Tim stared at the tablet in silence, tension building as nothing happened yet. The stars and planets slowed down and Tim’s star even stopped spinning, motionless.

Tim’s eyes were drawn to Jason’s quasar-turned-protostar.

There was another beat of silence, and then the camera’s feed turned to white with a sudden screech.

Both of them flinched from the loud scream and then watched a supernova consume the vision of the camera. It took a while before the brightness lowered and the shrieking of metal stopped ringing through their ears.

“Oh my gosh! Look!” Stephanie shook Tim’s shoulder, but it was unnecessary because he couldn’t take his eyes off of the screen.

Jason’s quasar had turned into a frighteningly enormous star. Almost 20 times the size of Dick’s star, Jason’s star had turned into a star that was so blue, it was white. She floated in space for a moment, before she then began a slow cycle around the cluster, carefully avoiding the planets so they would not burn in her luminosity. The rest of the cluster paused, as if taking in the sight of her before following suit and then…

Song burst from the feed again.

“Whoa,” Stephanie said, in a hushed whisper, “it’s beautiful.”

Dick had once described his and his star’s growth into adulthood with new identities. He had said that his star went supernova and transformed from a black hole to a giant star.

He had mentioned how the song had changed, with the addition of a fully mature voice of an adult star.

It happened the same way this time too.

Jason’s star had a light and delicate voice, distinctly feminine and quite high. She provided a soft harmony to the song alongside Dick’s star, with the both of their adult voices enriching the sound of the other stars, who were still children.

Stephanie gave another soft sound of awe.

Tim was more focused on what this meant.

It had been four years since his death. Now that his star had changed, it meant that Jason had also changed his identity, like how Robin became Nightwing. Whatever had happened, Jason had now grown up into an adult. He had come into a new identity in the four years he had been gone, and now he had found himself and alongside with it, his star.

But a question still remained.

Where was he?

————

Tim bopped his head to the music as he bent over his desk. It was another night of peace as he stayed in his room to do his school assignments, while his dad and Danna went on another date.

He was finishing up the last of his homework when he heard the door opening in the faint distance. He took a reflex glimpse outside the window, where he saw a cloudy sky, and then poked his head out of his room.

"Dad! Are you home?"

Silence.

Tim immediately tensed. He patted his pockets for weapons but found nothing. He inched back into his room and picked up the bat that was by his door. When he finally left his room again, he tried to go for nonchalant as he called out, "Dad! Did you bring home the wings I asked for?"

He carefully made his way to the foyer. But before he could turn around the corner and look at who had entered his home, he was knocked back by a fist.

He cried out as pain bloomed on his face. He squinted through the tears, silently wondering how they could hit so hard before he swung the bat. It was stopped with a hand, but Tim maneuvered his body and then lunged forward to kick the assailant back.

He darted backwards to get some distance and stared.

It was a muscular man, all clad in leather and black kevlar with a red helmet on his head.

Tim catalogued his appearance and could not figure out who this person was.

The only person with this kind of memo was the Red Hood, which was an alias that the Joker used, but that couldn’t be possible.

"Who are you?" He snapped. "What are you looking for?"

"What? I'm looking for a who," the man hissed, his voice coming through as electronic. "I'm looking for a Robin."

Tim's stomach dropped.

He said slowly, "I think you're looking in the wrong house. Robin isn't here."

"I heard you quit, Timothy Drake. I heard you quit being Robin and gave it to some other kid. Do you think it's that easy? Do you think it's that easy to leave being Robin behind?"

Oh crap.

Tim scrambled away as the man then lunged at him. He swung the bat again and as the man blocked with a fist, Tim lashed out with another kick. The man grabbed him by the ankle with the other hand and then threw him to the side.

Tim choked on his breath as his back hit the wall, knocking down some picture panes and shattering them on the floor. His back was already starting to ache, but he didn't have time to worry about that when the man struck again, punching him in the stomach.

Tim gagged on the bile rising up his throat before he attacked back with a jab to the throat. He then kicked the man twice in quick succession, making him grunt, and darted up on his feet, dodging a hit from the man's fist again.

"Who are you?!" Tim cried out, his blood freezing in his veins at the thought of Bruce and Dick's secret being known to others.

Would this man reveal their identities? Take Tim as a hostage? Use him to blackmail Bruce?

The man laughed mechanically. He reached behind his head and unlocked the helmet with a faint hiss of air. Then he dropped the helmet onto the floor and brushed his hair back with bright green eyes and a wild smirk full of teeth like he wanted to tear Tim apart.

Tim's eyes widened.

If the familiar face shape didn't key him in, it was the four pointed star on his cheek, unmistakeable and alight with bloody orange and turquoise, that told him just who had came into his house with the intent of attacking him.

"No..." he whispered in disbelief, scrambling backwards again as his breath came out quick and panicked.

Jason had come back?

Jason was back!

If he hadn't just been beaten by him with his fists, he probably would've been happy. Now he was just extremely confused and frightened.

"Oh yes," Jason purred. He was fully grown now, well muscled and clearly trained by someone other than Batman for the last four years. "You're in luck, Robin. You're the first one I saw after being back in this hell hole."

Tim was mentally making a list of the things he needed to do.

Finally, he replied slowly, "But why? Why did you see me first? And where were you?"

"I was dead, obviously," Jason scoffed. “And I came here to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay, cool,” Tim said nervously. “Did you need to punch me to ask me questions?”

Jason didn’t answer, but instead, swung to punch him again. Tim yelped and rolled to dodge. He was barely back on his feet before Jason grabbed his hair and pulled him down, kneeing him in the stomach.

Tim coughed but also took that moment while he was bent over to drop and kick out his legs, knocking Jason off his feet.

Jason fell and Tim jumped over him to get away. He flew down the stairs and barely reached the entryway when he was pounced onto by Jason, who felt like a damn elephant as he pinned him onto the floor with his body weight.

They wrestled but Tim was so out of Jason’s weight class that it wasn’t even funny. Tim could feel the panic within him rising as he struggled and tried to get away from the previous Robin, a once beacon of hope and light for Gotham.

“You have it so easy,” Jason hissed, as he started wrestling him to the ground. “A dad, money, a good home. You never had to dig through trash for scraps. You never had to take care of your dying mom while you were starving yourself. You never had to fight for your life while being tortured!”

Tim kicked Jason in the stomach, allowing just enough space for him to throw back his elbow to his chin. Jason made a faint noise of pain, and punched him once more, but before it could escalate, the most intense feeling of nausea struck Tim.

For a moment, he wondered if he was going to throw up over the previously dead Robin’s hands, but when Jason also paused and moved away from him with a gasp, he realized that both of them were struck with the same condition.

Tim blinked rapidly as the both of them stared at each other in thinly veiled confusion and distrust. Jason suspiciously stared at him, and then looked up out the window that was placed over the door. As Tim blinked away the stars in his eyes, he was beginning to realize that it was not just stars in his vision, but also stars in the sky.

The night was now clear, allowing them both to see a patch of sky with two distinctive lights.

Both Robins, old and new, stared at the rapidly twinkling lights in the distance. There were two flashes, blinking over and over, as if trying to get their attention.

The two sat there in silence. Then Jason looked down at his wrist, which held a watch that was now projecting the image of his star. She was spinning and bursting with solar flares like crazy, enough that Jason gave a disbelieving, almost angry laugh.

"Okay, jeez, I get it, Princess. You want me to keep your sister's fucking host alive."

Tim exhaled in relief, casting his eyes over to the night sky, which held his star in the distance.

Thank the stars that she helped him.

He didn’t want to know what would happen if her and her sister couldn’t get their attention.

He silently mouthed, "Thanks, partner."

The sky twinkled noticeably one last time before it stopped.

Tim jolted when Jason suddenly bent down and started taking off his shirt.

“Excuse me?!” He shrieked, feeling the bruises ache as Jason started undressing him. He struggled weakly, but Jason was still pulling apart his clothes.

“Shut up. Where’s the damn mark?”

Just to spare himself the indignity, Tim pulled his t-shirt to present his side and snapped, “Here.”

Jason stared at the four pointed star, colored with baby blue and butter yellow, for a beat and then stood up in a huff.

Tim glared at him. He loved the Robins and he loved Batman, but that didn’t mean he was just going to forgive him for almost killing him!

"Where are your medical supplies?" Jason asked, looking around his room.

Tim grimaced and said, "The kitchen."

“Where?”

He eyed him with distrust. Jason put his hands on his hips and waited.

“…. In the left cabinet next to the stove.”

Jason went off to look for it, probably, and Tim slowly sat up, rubbing his shoulder that had been knocked against several surfaces this night, while he lifted his eyes to the window again.

His star was still there, faint due to her distance from Earth, but she was still just barely bright enough that he could find her through Gotham’s smog.

Thank the heavens for her and her sister.

Jason came back with a stomp and the emergency medical kit in his hands. He sat down next to Tim and raised a hand, palm up.

"Hand."

Tim gave it to him.

Jason opened the kit and then began to inspect, clean, and wrap up his wounds. Even for his back, Tim was asked to take off his shirt and Jason applied bruise gel all over it. Tim was tense at first, but eventually, he just kind of melted underneath Jason's hands and closed his eyes as he was taken care of by the previous Robin.

Sometimes he would ask Tim questions.

“So what do you call your star?”

“Partner. She calls me partner back too.”

“Ha! You’re like cowboys.”

“You sound like Dick.”

“Like hell I do!”

But Jason didn’t hurt him again. Tim was full-on relaxing by the end of it.

When Jason was finished, Tim was lightly dozing from the warmth of the numbing creams and the fact that it was a late night on a school day. The fact that he hadn’t been hugged or touched in a while certainly aided his sleepy haze too. Jason snorted at the sight of him and said, "Aren't you too trusting? I just beat you up."

Tim grumbled as he opened his eyes and uncurled from his position. "You're an asshole, y'know that? What was all of that even for?"

Jason sighed and said, "I changed. And... I guess… sorry. I wasn't in a right state of mind when I came here."

Tim twisted to look at him. Looking at him closer, Jason's eyes were still green, though noticeably less bright.

The shade of green was so familiar that Tim stared for a long time before he suddenly blurted out, "The league. You were with the League of Assassins!"

Jason narrowed his eyes. "I was."

"Was it Talia? Did she revive you? What happened?"

Jason looked exasperated but he nodded with a deliberately careless shrug. "I died, crawled out of my grave like a zombie, and then she picked me up. I went with her to the League and she threw me into the Lazarus Pits before training me. Now I’m here again to take back what’s mine.”

“Robin?” Tim blurted again. “I’ll give it back to you. I was going to— but someone needed to be Robin and my dad made me quit so I gave it to a friend and she became Robin for a little while, but I don’t think she’ll mind if you get it back.”

“Breathe,” Jason deadpanned, eyeing him with an unidentifiable emotion. “And I don’t care for it anymore.”

“You sure? You definitely cared about it 20 minutes ago,” drawled Tim.

Jason glared at him and Tim narrowed his eyes at him right back.

Eventually, Jason rolled his eyes and looked away. “Well, I stopped caring.” He pointed at Tim demandingly. “I don’t give a fuck what happens next, but if you tell anyone I’m here, I’ll break your damn face!”

“But why?”

Tim could understand that Jason was angry. Whatever had happened in the League had changed him for the worse, but there was still that familiar, charismatic, and caring boy inside, evident by Tim's carefully bandaged wounds (despite being the one to inflict them, but whatever). He could see that Jason was feeling vengeful too, but he didn't want Jason to be estranged from Dick or Bruce.

"I have plans," Jason said with a sneer. "Plans for Gotham that can't have B and Dick interfering."

"... are you trying to get revenge?"

"So what if I am? I died. Better yet, I was murdered. It doesn't matter what you think, I'll do what I need to do and because you're the host of my star's sister, I'll let you go this one time."

Tim thought of Bruce's brooding and endless self-blame at Jason's death. He thought of Dick's almost desperate attempts in training Tim and his neverending grief from the loss of a brother and the loss of a possible future knowing him. He thought of Alfred's silent sorrow, his eyes full of fear when Tim used to suit up in the Batcave. He thought of that period of time where Batman brutalized every criminal he came across, even the petty ones, turning Gotham into a city of rage and pain.

".... They all mourned for you," Tim said, not really knowing what outcome he was looking for by saying this,"B and Dick mourned for you. It was so bad that I had to force them to make me Robin because Batman needed him. Batman needed you."

Jason stared at him, his eyes flickering between greenish hues before he looked away, eyebrows furrowed.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jason snorted coldly. “They clearly didn't care enough if the Joker is still alive. I’m going to stay here and I’m going to kill the Joker. No one else avenged me, so I’ll just have to do it myself.”

The Joker?

Tim's breath hitched as he froze so badly that even Jason paused and raised an eyebrow at him.

Tim stared at Jason with wide eyes.

He could not help but look down slightly, at the four pointed star that covered Jason’s cheek, a mark of the heavens that bound him to a star.

Jason snarled, “What?!”

Tim said slowly, “The… The Joker’s not alive.”

When Jason’s tense posture and aggressive stance slackened into shock, Tim had to continue and say, “He died a while ago.”

Jason grabbed him by the shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as he roared, “Who did it?!”

Tim pursed his lips.

Jason could probably keep a secret, right? He didn’t believe that he would go and tell anyone, especially because….

“Nightwing did. And I helped him hide the body.”

|||||||||||||||||||||||

Check out my CB!Jason art here

Tim and Dani are partners!! Hooray!

I'm sure you can guess who Steph ends up with, hm? She’ll get her own story, dw.

Tbh, I wanted this to be a 3+1 thing with all of the other Robins bc I thought it'd be short, but then it became longer than I expected, so I just... continued writing.... 😶 I think I got too excited again.

I'm trying to write in chronological order, but the history of the Batfam is so ridiculous that idk if I can do that, but if I don't do that, I'll get confused myself, y'know? Someone please help.

The scene where Jason beats the shit out of Tim apparently comes after he reveals his identity to Bruce… so I’m going to switch it for it to make sense. He was also supposed to choke Tim in this fic, but then it got too dark… so I changed that too :9

“How come none of them could figure out that he was with the League?” They knew he was revived in the coffin, so no one thought of the Lazarus pits bc they didn’t think he was basically a zombie (suspend your disbelief, please!). Also, more info on Jazz will be in the fic with Jason’s return.

Tim was originally supposed to go with Tucker, but then I thought about it and I changed it because 1) like Dick and Jason, his star is sort of the opposite of their personality, 2) I don’t see how they’ll encourage each other to grow, 3) a secret third thing

A deeper explanation of reason 2 is on AO3.

[tkwrites]

Can I Come See You? - Quinn Hughes x OFC

gif from gabelandeskog

Title: Can I Come See You?

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: After a rough game, Quinn seeks out comfort from Sarah. 

Warnings: some suggestive themes, swearing, other than that, it’s 98% fluff.

Word count: 4,600

Comments: I know I’ve been teasing the family reunion snapshot for a while now, but with all the heavy emotions September brings, I just haven’t been able to finish it. When this ask came in, I started writing right away, wanting some comfort myself. I’ve loved revisiting the beginning of Quinn & Sarah’s relationship while writing this Snapshot. 

Thank you, thank you, and thank you gain for your support and love! I have found such a lovely community here, and I’m so thankful. Even in this radio silence while I’ve been slogging through my grief, everyone has been so kind and supportive.  

If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. I love seeing what you think of Quinn & Sarah’s latest adventures.

Anonymous asked: Quinn gives cuddler energy 1000000% After a game, especially when they played bad and lost/gave up a lead. Immediately wanting Sarah cuddles to make him feel better. Do you think he ever went to hers after a game, giving Eunice a heart attack in the early days. Or did they mostly hang at his?

Can I come see you? 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

If it wasn’t a Friday night, he wouldn’t have even asked. But it was, and he knew Sarah didn’t have to be up early the next day. And they’d lost. Epically. 

Midway through the third, they’d given up a three goal lead. On a power play no less. He’d, thankfully, only been on the ice for one. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d given up more than one short handed goal in a two-minute span.

There was another game the next day, the third in four days, and he knew he really should go home and go to sleep. But Toch had canceled practice the next morning, and he was upset and feeling restless and just wanted to see her. 

It had been a long time since he’d felt this longing to be with someone and actually had someone he could go to. He called his parents, but there was still a gap there, telling him something was still missing. He wanted a more physical kind of comfort.

It was a miserable night, and Quinn thought seeing Sarah might make him feel a little better. He’d never asked her something like this. Hoping she wouldn’t mind, he fired off a text.

Sarah was in her room after the game – after an awful game – when Quinn texted. 

Can I come see you? 

Her heart leapt into her throat.

Quinn had never sent a text like this before, and she wasn't totally sure what it meant.  

He wouldn't come here to initiate comfort sex, right? That would be crazy. Her roommates were home. 

Maybe he just wanted…she had no idea what he wanted, but he'd respected every boundary she'd thrown at him so far, so she responded. Sure. Let me know when you’re here, and I’ll come let you in. 

Though they hadn’t slept together yet, she was thinking about it a lot, and they'd made out. She'd even let him take off her bra a few days before. Just thinking about that night — the reverent way he'd touched her, like she was a priceless piece of art, and the croaked, pleasured noise he’d groaned into her neck when their dry humping culminated in him coming in his pants — still made her thoughts buzz.

He asked for her address. 

She’d forgotten he’d never been to her apartment before. Not inside, at least. He’d dropped her off several times, but it was always at the end of a date, and at least one of her roommates was usually home, so it’s not like she would invite him up. Also, it seemed silly to go from his lovely penthouse to inviting him up to her little apartment. If they were going to do anything, it wouldn’t be here. 

My roommates are home, just so you know, she sent, not wanting to set unrealistic expectations. 

He reacted with a thumbs up. 

Normally, she would warn them she was having someone over, but telling Eunice Quinn was coming over would only give her more time to wind herself up. So Sarah stayed in her room until he texted that he was downstairs and slipped by her roommates without giving an explanation. 

When she opened the large glass door to her building, he was standing off to the side, hands shoved in his pockets and his head hanging forward, as if it were just a little too heavy to hold up. 

“Hey,” she said quietly, not wanting to startle him.

He still jumped a little, but when he met her eyes, he smiled — genuinely — as if he was just glad to see her. 

Her heart fluttered.

“Come on in.” Taking his hand, she pulled him into the elevator, which was, thankfully, still on the ground floor. They only went up five levels before she got off and led him down the hall, and scanned through door 538. 

Her roommates were on the couch watching an episode of Friends. 

They looked over, and one of them yelped before slapping her hand over her mouth. She continued to make muffled noise, her wide eyes darting between Quinn and Sarah. 

“This is Quinn,” Sarah introduced, though it felt perfunctory. They both knew who he was. “And this is Eunice,” she said, gesturing to her, “she’s a big fan and a little bit excitable.” 

Quinn recognized her. She was the one who screamed when he’d knocked on the glass at Sarah’s first game. Her brown hair, which was more frizz than curl, was pushed back with a headband. She was still wearing a jersey – Petey’s, thankfully – from watching the game. 

“And this is Jane.” 

She was tall and willowy, with pale eyes and a thick, dark blonde braid. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jane said, standing up and offering her hand to shake.

Quinn grasped it, managing to pull a smile onto one half of his mouth. 

Eunice stood and followed suit, though he got the distinct impression that were they anywhere else with anyone else, she would be asking for a hug. “I can’t believe you’re in our house right now.” Her voice actually squeaked when she said it. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, not quite managing to pull full sincerity into his voice. Though he did feel it, he was too tired and too miserable to mask the disappointment. 

Eunice finally seemed to get over the shock of Quinn Hughes being in her living room. Leaning her butt on the armrest of the couch, she said, “tough break tonight.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. 

“Here, we can go in my room.” 

When Sarah’s hand slipped into his, his heart did an embarrassing little flutter. Hoping it didn’t show on his face, he followed her down the hall. 

He'd forgotten what it was like to move into a blank slate of an apartment. All the places he'd rented since moving to Vancouver were furnished, including curated, so-neutral-it-wasn’t-interesting artwork. Sarah’s apartment looked like a home - framed photos and unique paintings on the walls. 

Her room was simple. There was a full bed tucked under the window that overlooked the street and a desk. There wasn’t room for much else. A quark board above her desk was filled with photos of who he assumed was her family. Half a dozen babies with her same bright blue eyes or chocolate colored hair. He noticed the warm up puck he'd given her sitting on her desk, bracing the pages of a textbook open to an anatomical drawing of a seahorse. 

She sat on the bed. It was either the bed or her office chair, and they couldn't both fit on the chair.  

“What's up?” she asked after a minute or so of him looking around her room, his hands in his pockets. He was in his suit, a rain jacket over it against the wet, misty night, and had a knit hat pulled over his hair.

His eyes snapped to her. Something about seeing her in leggings and a loose t shirt, sitting on her blue and green patchwork quilt, made him ache. Longing bloomed in him to see her this comfortable somewhere where they could be together. Not together like this; together permanently. The thought stuck in his mind. Had he ever felt that way about someone before?

“I just wanted to see you,” he admitted, shoulders dropping.

“Oh.” The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise. The fact that he wanted to see her on a hard night sent a giddy, effervescent shiver through her. 

She patted the mattress, and relieved, he sunk down next to her. 

Sarah pulled his rain jacket off, throwing it over her office chair before asking, “this too?” as her fingers tucked under the collar of his suit coat. 

Usually, he would have shrugged it off as soon as he'd pulled away from the arena, but he'd been driving in the general direction of Yaletown, breathlessly waiting for Sarah’s reply.  

Nodding, he pushed his shoulders back so she could pull it off. 

She folded it much more deliberately than he usually did, matching the shoulders and making sure the arms were flat before draping it over his jacket. 

“You okay?” she asked, her hand traveling up and down his back. 

Her gentle touch and the sound of her voice sent a pang of relief through him. 

Experiencing Sarah sharing her emotions with him so openly somehow made it easier to reciprocate and trust she wasn't going to dismiss his or throw them back in his face later. 

He shook his head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don't even want to think about it,” he said, leaning forward and raking his fingers into his hair.

Not quite sure what he meant, her hand paused on it’s journey smoothing over the soft material of his dress shirt. 

“Can we…” he glanced over at her. In the light from her desk lamp, his eyes were the color of cognac. “Can we lay down?”

Her lips pursed. It wasn’t that they hadn’t cuddled before. They had, but she still wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he wanted. 

“I just want to hold you,” he finally admitted. The vulnerability of saying it out loud knotted his stomach.

Her heart did a giddy little dance in her chest, and she barely held herself back from asking, really?  

“Sure,” she said instead, although it still came out a little breathy. “You've gotta take off your shoes, though.” 

As he toed off the sneakers, she scooted back, so she was laying nearest the window. 

He lay next to her. They stayed that way, side by side for a minute before Sarah asked, “how do you...?”

Extending his arm, he patted his side, inviting her to snuggle into him. She accepted readily, pressing her body to his. Really, he wanted her to hold him, but he felt a little too vulnerable to ask for that. 

A deep sigh let go as her hand rested on his chest. It had taken more than six months for him to feel this comfortable with June, for him to even think about asking her for comfort.  It was amazing to him that things with Sarah were so much easier. 

“What do you need?” she asked, tracing one of his buttons. 

Emotion threatened to choke his reply. Taking a moment to swallow it down, he tried to remember the last time someone had asked him that not related to improving his on-ice performance. Nothing immediately came to mind.

“Can you just talk?”

“About what?”

“Anything. Tell me about your roommates.”

“Well, Jane is a pediatric nurse. She works in the BC Children’s ER.” 

He let out a low whistle. 

“Yeah. It’s a rough gig sometimes, but she really loves it. She's actually headed to work in a few hours.”

He glanced at his watch, “at midnight?” 

“She works a lot of graveyards. 3 to 3 or midnight to noon. She coaches a youth lacrosse league on the weekends.”

“Really?” He felt Sarah nod. “My mom played lacrosse. She put all of us in it, too.” 

“Did you like it?” 

He shrugged, “I like hockey better.”

“Good thing you stuck with it, then.”

A breath of a laugh escaped through his nose.

“And Eunice is studying biomedical engineering. She’s on track to get her PhD.”

“Really?”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“I don't know,” he shrugged. “She just seems so…I mean, excitable like you said.”

“Oh, she's just dedicated to everything she does. She has a 4.0. I think it'd actually be higher if the scale didn't stop there. She does everything like that, you know? Doesn’t matter if it’s school or being a fan. She’s always 110% in. I don’t think she knows how to do anything halfway.” 

He hmm’d.

Falling into a companionable silence, Quinn sighed. He’d been looking for this his kind of comfort with another person his entire life. The first time he’d really felt it was on their first date, and it was a revelation. Each time it happened since then, it became a little less awkward. They might well be on their way to sharing the kind of quiet moments he used to see his parents have. Sitting together on the couch reading, or folding laundry together, or watching TV, just happy to be with each other. The idea of it made his chest feel buoyant enough to float away.

“How did you meet them?” 

“Eunice was advertising for someone new to move in on the school housing board. Their old roommate, Jenny, was getting married. So, I met them and saw the place, and it just worked out.” 

“Just like that?” 

“I guess?”

“I’ve never done that before.”

“What?” 

“Interviewed to be a roommate. I’ve always lived with teammates.”

“Not all of us have a built-in best friend squad.”

He snorted, and Sarah smiled. 

They eased into another quiet moment, and Quinn felt his eyelids grow heavy.

“Do you need anything?” she asked. 

“Hmm?” 

“Like, do you need anything to eat?” 

“I ate at the arena,” he said, “but I wouldn't mind something to drink.” 

As she pushed herself up and he resisted the urge to pull her back down. “What do you want? I have water, cranberry juice, or Ginger ale. I have some rum if you need something stronger, or I could make you some tea.” 

“I can't have caffeine this late. It’ll fuck up my sleep schedule.” Truth be told, it was probably already fucked just by him being here, but he didn’t want to inflict any more damage. 

She smiled, “I have peppermint, or a caffeine free maple that's really tasty as a latte.” 

“That sounds nice.”

“Okay. Do you want milk or almond milk?” 

“Almond, please.” 

“You got it.” As she crawled over him to get to the edge of the bed, she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

His mouth was still buzzing when she left the room. 

Eunice came into the kitchen as Sarah was filling the kettle. “What are you doing?” she whispered as if Quinn might hear them from down the hall. 

“Making tea,” Sarah said in her normal tone. 

She could tell Eunice wanted to start interrogating her and pointedly looked the other way. She’d be happy to talk, but not while he was still here. Getting Eunice started on a conversation like that required a certain amount of commitment, and Sarah wasn’t willing to rehash the night until it was over.

She stayed in the kitchen, watching Sarah start the kettle on the stove and pour milk into the frother. 

“I can bring this to you when it’s done.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yeah. Go be with Quinn. He looked like he needed some time with you. I’ll be in in a few.” 

“Okay.” 

As she walked back down the hall, she heard Eunice mutter something about getting Quinn to play better tomorrow.

Sarah winced, wondering if he was ever allowed to be human before being an athlete. 

Quinn looked up from his phone when Sarah came back in the room empty-handed. “No tea?” he asked, hoping his tone came off teasing. It was surprising to him she could start something and not finish it. 

Leaving the door cracked open, she got back on the bed and crawled over him, “Eunice offered to bring it in. It takes our stove ages to boil water.” 

He pulled her into him as soon as she got to his other side. As she bounced against him, she giggled, and it dissipated some of the angsty weight he’d been carrying around since the game ended. 

She snuggled up to him again, working her left arm under his back. He arched until her hand brushed his ribs.

“That’s okay?” he asked, settling back down. 

“Yeah.”

Though half of it was tied up, he threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, then ran them through the soft strands. She made a contented little noise, so he did it again, just glad to be touching her. 

“Thank you for this,” he said, voice quiet. 

“For what?” 

“For letting me come over. For,” he moved so he could wrap his arm around her, squeezing her a little bit closer. 

“Hey, if cuddling makes you feel better, I’m always down,” she said, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. This kind of casual affection was what she missed most every time she broke up with all of her exes. Not to mention, she got so little physical touch being away from her family.

He chuckled, and it ended in a sigh. 

His free hand found hers, and he slotted their fingers together. 

“I really like you, Sarah.” 

“I really like you, too, Quinn,” she said, tipping her head back so she could see his face. From this angle, his nose was more pronounced. She had to resist the urge to pull her hand from his so she could run her finger down the ridge of it to feel the prominent bump. 

Sensing her stare, he turned his head, bringing their lips dangerously close. It only took a bit of stretching on Sarah’s part to bring them together. 

When he felt Sarah strain toward him again, he rolled onto his side to shorten the distance between them. Her hand stayed on his chest, and their kisses remained sweet, though the adjusted position allowed for a little more tongue, which he wasn’t mad about.

This was much softer than anything they'd done so far. It was nice to know they could just be here: not rushing to get undressed or into something more intense and physical. 

She loved this kind of lazy, slow kissing, but found it didn’t usually come until much later in a relationship, after all the first physical stuff was out of the way. To be kissing - making out without really making out - like this before they’d even had sex felt like a gift. Feeling his fingers run into her hair, bringing her face just that little bit closer to his Sarah sighed.

The way her chin moved in and out as they kissed, matching the rhythm of her tongue brushing his, lulled his body into a state of deeper relaxation than he’d felt all evening.

Pulling away just enough, she whispered, “you’re a really good kisser.” 

A zing of pleasure shivered through his brain and all the way down Quinn's spine.

 “Thanks,” he breathed, easing back to see her face. 

He gazed into her eyes for a few moments longer, trying to calm his thoughts. Once he was over the initial daze her compliment brought on, he realized he should probably say something else. Instead of blurting out the, I like being good for you, that popped into his mind, he said, “you make it easy to be.”

When she shyly thanked him as her cheeks pinked, he felt like he'd swallowed the sun. 

Unable to resist anymore, Sarah reached up to trace her finger down the bridge of his nose. “How did you break it?” 

“The first time, Jack punched me in the face in an intense game of mini sticks.”

“Mini sticks?”

“It’s like…” How did he explain this to someone who’d never played? “It’s like indoor, carpet hockey. You use these little plastic sticks and a ball, usually. We used to play in the basement. My mom talks about how we played so hard, we would shake the whole house.”

“That’s some serious competition if you’re getting your nose broken.” 

A breath of a laugh huffed out of him. “I deserved it. I was goading him on pretty bad, and he didn’t really know his own strength. I can still see the horror on his face when the blood started pouring.” 

She resumed stroking, her touch feather light and gentle, “how many times have you broken it?” 

“Three.” Quinn never thought he’d like someone touching him like this, but with Sarah, he found it comforting instead of irritating. It was like she just wanted to know every part of him. “The other two were pucks to the face.”

She winced. “That sounds painful. Those pucks are way heavier than I thought.” 

“It’s not fun,” he said. “Thankfully, the adrenaline is still pumping, so it doesn’t really hurt until after the game is over.” 

“You kept playing with a broken nose?” 

Nodding, he laughed, “they strap on a full face shield, and send you back out there.” 

An incredulous, protective look took over her face that Quinn instantly loved. 

“Don’t worry. They do concussion testing and reset it if it needs it before.” 

“That’s just…really?” 

He nodded.

“I keep seeing all these memes about how tough hockey players are, and I always thought they were kind of exaggerated.” 

“It’s a tough sport,” he said. “My goal is always to be swift enough on my feet to not get involved with the harsh stuff, but sometimes a puck just redirects, and bam, your nose is broken again.” 

The kettle whistled. 

As if by an unspoken rule, they pulled back from each other. Sarah’s hand dropped back to his chest. 

A minute later, Eunice gently hipped open Sarah's door, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and the whole milk frothing machine. “I figured it would be easier for you to froth in here,” she said, setting the tray down on Sarah's desk. 

As she backed out of the room, she widened her eyes and quirked her brows a few times, giving Sarah a look that plainly said, you have a cute, famous boy in your bed, and we're going to discuss everything as soon as he’s gone. 

“Thanks, Eunice,” Sarah said through a tight smile, hoping Quinn hadn’t seen. 

“Sure thing,” she said before softly clicking the door shut.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a tea latte,” Quinn said as he rolled onto his back so Sarah could crawl over him again. The urge to pull her on top of him by her hips was so strong that he had to curl his fingers into the quilt. 

“Really?” she asked, plugging the frother into the outlet by her nightstand. 

He shrugged. 

The machine whirred to life.

“It’s good. I like it at night. The warm milk kind of puts me to sleep.” 

When it was done, she divided the creamy concoction into the two mugs and brought one to Quinn. 

“This is okay?” he asked, gesturing to the bed. 

“Yeah.” There wasn’t anywhere else they could go. If he spilled tea on her sheets, she’d just have him help her change them. 

Sarah sat opposite him, knees bent, her bare feet between his socked ones. 

Their eyes met over their mugs, and Quinn smiled. “This is really good, thank you,” he said, gently tapping her leg with his toe. 

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came over.” 

“Are you still up for the game tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m planning on it.”

“And you’ll stay so I can take you home?”

She nodded. “Are you flying out again after that?”

He sighed, “yeah. On Sunday. We fly out to Dallas, play them on Monday, and then go to Colorado to play on Wednesday, and then I’ll be home for a week on Thursday afternoon.”

“I’m glad it’s not too long this time.”

“Me too.” A yawn split his face. He apologized, holding a fist over his mouth.

Shaking her head, Sarah said, “you’ve had a long day.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, downing the rest of the tea. “I should probably get home and get to sleep.”

While he pulled on his sneakers, Sarah set her latte aside and slipped on some sandals. 

Rain was pounding against the glass fronted lobby when they got downstairs. Looking down at herself, Sarah said, “I’d walk you to your car, but I’m not really dressed for it.”

Half of his mouth lifted in an indulgent smile, “that’s okay.” Gathering her against him, he breathed in the smokey smell of her perfume to fortify himself for the dash into the rain and the drive home. “Thank you again.”

Her hands slid under his suit coat, pulling him more tightly against her, “you’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, pulling back to look into his face. 

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss her. They were in public, so he knew he shouldn’t linger, but he did anyway, savoring her mouth as the last thing he’d taste that night. 

“Let me know when you get home, yeah?” she asked when they parted. 

He nodded, and she watched him jog away before heading back upstairs. 

Eunice was waiting in the entryway for her and immediately grabbed her hand. “Tell us everything,” she said, excitedly pulling Sarah down the hall to the bathroom where Jane was re-braiding her hair for work. 

Before she sat in the hallway outside the bathroom, Sarah got her unfinished tea. As she sipped, she explained how he ended up there. 

Both women awed when she recounted Quinn telling her he just wanted to hold her. Eunice broke in when Sarah got to the part about making tea.

“Jane, it was so cute. I walked by, and they’re cuddling. Then, when I came back, they were kissing. Like that soft movie kind of kissing - it looked so dreamy. Then when I walked by again –” 

“Why were you walking by so much?” Sarah demanded. 

Eunice didn't even blush, “I had to get my blanket.”

“And it took you two trips to do it?” 

“I forgot what I was getting the first time and had to come back to the living room to remember.” 

“Right,” Sarah deadpanned. 

“Anyway,” she said in an over-exaggerated tone, “when I walked by again, she was petting his nose.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah exclaimed, “I am never bringing him over here again. He’s going to think you’re some kind of psychopathic stocker for walking by all the time.”

“Oh, he had no idea I was even there,” Eunice said. “He was way too busy longingly gazing at you, Ms. Roberts. I don’t think he would have even noticed me if I was stomping down the hall like a t-rex.”

“He was pretty enraptured,” Jane said. 

“You too?” 

“I had to go to the bathroom. Mine was legitimate.”

“Oh my fucking hell,” Sarah moaned. 

“Why were you touching his nose?” 

“I asked him how he broke it.” Sarah smiled at the floor. “And I like his nose.”

Eunice snorted, “of course you do.” 

Cutting off Sarah’s incredulous look, Jane asked, “what was the best part?”

All of it, she wanted to say. The fact that he came over at all. That he just wanted to cuddle, the kissing… 

“He was really sweet. I told him he was a good kisser and he just looked into my eyes for a while before he goes, ‘you make it easy to be.’” 

“Oh my gosh,” Jane gushed, “really? That is such a good answer.”

“Will you just fuck him already?” 

Sarah let out a surprised cough, and Eunice continued, “I think he’s proven he’s not just in it for the sex.”

“I think I knew that from the start.”

“So why are you waiting so long to jump him?” 

“Eunice,” Jane admonished, “Sarah can take however long she likes to take that step.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eunice said dismissively, flapping her hands, “I just want to know what he’s like in bed.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah said, dropping her head into her hands. “I am never discussing my sex life with you.”

“Yes you will.” 

“No. I won't.” 

“You will,” Eunice said with a quirk of her brows. “You've told us everything else so far. I don't think you'll be able to resist.”

“You’re unhinged, you know that?” 

“That’s why you love me.”

Laughing, Sarah had to admit she was right.  

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[girlactionfigure]

the British

SEPTEMBER 18, 2024

For many years, there has been a concerted effort to delegitimize the State of Israel as a British colonial project. These people decontextualize one single paragraph-long, non-binding statement -- the 1917 Balfour Declaration -- and ignore everything that happened before and since. 

The fact of the matter is that by the time the British actually occupied the territory that now encompasses the State of Israel and the Palestinian Territories, they actively worked with the Arabs against the establishment of a sovereign Jewish state. 

Anyone familiar with the complicated history of the conflict beyond the same tired propaganda talking points knows this. Our own grandparents know this, because it was they who suffered under British curfews, detention camps, unfair laws, and more.

THE BALFOUR DECLARATION: IN CONTEXT

In 1897, at the First Zionist Congress, the Zionist movement decided that “Zionism seeks to establish a home for the Jewish people in Eretz ­Israel [the Land of Israel] secured under public law.” In other words, the Zionist movement sought to accomplish its goals through legal means, rather than through violence. To do this, the Zionists tried lobbying a number of world powers, most significantly, the Ottomans, who then ruled over what is now Israel and the Palestinian Territories. They were unsuccessful. In fact, the Ottoman Empire tightened its anti-Jewish restrictions in the Land of Israel in response.

Meanwhile, as the Ottoman Empire weakened, a number of Indigenous religious and ethnic minorities in the Middle East, as well as the Arabs, began vying for their own independence. This was especially true during World War I, after it was revealed that the British and the French had conspired to take over the spoils of the vast Ottoman Empire once the Ottomans were defeated. Other groups that made public -- though ultimately unsuccessful -- bids for sovereignty included the Assyrians and the Kurds. In other words, given the context of the period and the region, Zionism was not an anomaly, but rather, it fell in line with what other national groups were doing at the time.

In 1916, the British promised the Arabs a unified Arab state in Greater Syria, which included what is now Israel, the Palestinian Territories, Lebanon, Jordan, and parts of Turkey. A year later, in 1917, the British signed the Balfour Declaration, supporting the establishment of a “Jewish national home,” which, in the eyes of the Arabs, contradicted the promise the British had made just the previous year.

“His Majesty's Government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavours to facilitate the achievement of this object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine, or the rights and political status enjoyed by Jews in any other country.”

WHAT WAS THE BALFOUR DECLARATION?

The Balfour Declaration was a statement issued in 1917 by the British government supporting the establishment of “a national home for the Jewish people” in Palestine. 

There are two important things to keep in mind: (1) in 1917, Palestine was not yet under British rule; thus, the British had no actual power to assign it to anyone, and (2) by the time the British were given administrative powers over Palestine, they’d already changed their tune in favor of the Arab aspirations. It’s also important to note that the Balfour Declaration never specified the exact nature of this “national home for the Jewish people,”and, as such, the British felt that this promise did not actually contradict the earlier promise they had made to the Arabs in 1916 regarding a unified Arab state in Greater Syria. 

The causes for the Balfour Declaration are subject to speculation. Some historians believe the British wanted to reward Chaim Weizmann, one of the most active proponents for a Jewish state, for producing acetone, which was critical to the British war effort during World War I. Others believe the British were desperate for the Americans to enter World War I, and because they held the antisemitic view that Jews had a great deal of power over the American government, they thought that in rewarding the Jews, the Jews would reward them. Others claim Lord Balfour was a Christian Zionist -- not to be confused with a Christian who is a Zionist -- and he felt that the returning of the Jews to the Land of Israel would hasten the Second Coming of Jesus. Finally, others think the British “embraced” Zionism because they felt that it would justify their colonization of Palestine over the French colonization of Palestine, as the French were also vying for control of that strip of land.

BRITISH RESPONSE TO ARAB VIOLENCE

British rule over Palestine was characterized by appeasement to -- and oftentimes outright support for -- the Arabs, even when the Arabs carried out antisemitic massacres against the Jews. After the 1920 Nebi Musa pogrom in Jerusalem, for example, the Jews accused the British of complicity, as they had actively prevented the Jews in the Old City from getting help. In fact, it was this riot that led to the formation of the Haganah, the first Zionist paramilitary in Mandatory Palestine, as the Zionist movement realized that the British could not -- or were not willing to -- protect the Jewish population of Palestine.

In 1936, the Arab Higher Committee, the Arab leadership in Mandatory Palestine, called for a general strike and boycott of Jewish products. This quickly escalated into violence and terrorism, leading to the massacre of some 500 Jews and hundreds of British. Due to their inadequacy in protecting the Jewish population, once again, the British reluctantly agreed to arm the Haganah.

In 1937, the British issued the Peel Commission to investigate the causes of unrest in Palestine. The investigators decided that partitioning the land into one Jewish state and one Arab state was the best option -- putting partition on the table for the first time. The Jews agreed to the plan reluctantly -- the terms weren’t great, though Chaim Weizmann said the Zionist movement was prepared to accept a state “even if it’s the size of a tablecloth” -- but the Arabs rejected it vehemently. Wishing to appease the Arabs, the British immediately discarded the 1937 Peel Plan and instead rewarded the Arab perpetrators of the violence with the 1939 White Paper.

THE 1939 WHITE PAPER

Given the results of the 1937 Peel Commission, which found that it was the Arab leadership that had instigated the violence of the Arab Revolt (against Jewish immigration), the Jews in Palestine were absolutely dismayed when the British issued the 1939 White Paper.

The White Paper, in direct contradiction with the findings of the Peel Commission, called for the establishment of a singular Palestinian Arab state. The Jews felt that, in light of previous promises, hundreds of years of Arab subjugation of Jews, and Arab violence against the Jews in Palestine, a single, Arab-majority state would shatter any illusion of Jewish self-determination. 

Most damningly, the White Paper also almost entirely banned Jewish immigration, while Arab immigration continued to flow freely and without restriction into Palestine. The White Paper limited Jewish immigration to up to 75,000 people within a period of 5 years, and any further immigration would be subject to the approval of the Arabs. Keep in mind that this was on the brink of World War II, when millions of Jews were desperate to escape Europe.

Jews were also banned from purchasing any lands owned by Arabs, save for 5% of the Mandate territory. 

The Jewish Agency for Palestine issued a statement saying that the British were denying the Jews their rights in the “darkest hour of Jewish history.”

ALIYAH BET

Aliyah Bet is the code name for the wave of Jewish illegal immigration and illegal rescue missions to Mandatory Palestine between 1920-1948, and particularly after 1939, after the British passed the 1939 White Paper. Aliyah Bet happened in two phases: phase one (1934-1942/1944) and phase two (1945-1948).

The rescue missions were carried out by a network of Zionist organizations. Some 62 missions were carried out between 1937-1944, the majority of them unsuccessful and often ending with catastrophic results. 

Some 70,000 Jews, aboard 62 or 66 vessels (sources differ), attempted to reach Palestine via ship during World War II. Only ~15,000 made it safely, as most were unable to penetrate the British blockade. Five ships sunk, resulting in nearly 1,600 casualties.

After the war, the Haganah continued its illicit operations, now smuggling Holocaust survivors out of Europe. Overall, some 70,000 Jews arrived to Palestine in over 100 ships throughout the course of Aliyah Bet. This was a modest number considering the high number of Jews that attempted to travel to Palestine unsuccessfully. 

Aliyah Bet created a conundrum for the British. On the one hand, they were trying to appease the Arab Higher Committee, which decried Jewish immigration. On the other hand, the world saw the British as cruel, keeping Holocaust survivors trapped in detention camps and banning them from Palestine.

Had the British supported the Zionist movement, there would have been no need for Aliyah Bet, nor would 1600 Holocaust refugees have died at sea en route to Palestine.

DETENTION CAMPS IN CYPRUS

The 1939 British White Paper remained in effect until 1948, with the establishment of the State of Israel. After the end of the Holocaust, Aliyah Bet continued in full force. Most of the would-be immigrants -- Holocaust survivors -- were detained by the British and placed in prison and internment camps. The largest of the camps were located in Cyprus, which was a British colony at the time.

Between 1946 and 1949, some 53,510 Jews were held prisoner in these camps. The majority had arrived from the Balkans and Eastern Europe, though a small number of Moroccan Jews were imprisoned as well. 80% of the prisoners were between the ages of 13-35, and 6,000 of them were orphans. Some 2,000 Jewish children were born in the camps. After Israel’s independence, Israel evacuated the last 10,200 prisoners into Israel.

The conditions at the camps were atrocious and inhumane.Jews had to face obstacles such as poor sanitation, overcrowding, lack of privacy, and a shortage of drinkable water. The American Joint Distribution Committee, which provided medical aid, extra food rations, and more, stated that the British treated Jewish refugees in Cyprus worse than they treated Nazi prisoners of war in adjacent camps. 

Tents and barracks were overcrowded. There was a severe clothing and shoe shortage. The food was bad quality. Undoubtedly the biggest issue was lack of water, particularly during the summer, which resulted in poor sanitary conditions and the spread of disease. The British officers responsible for the refugees were unwilling and indifferent. The barbed wire and watchtowers reminded the Jewish refugees of their time in Nazi concentration camps, which was retraumatizing. Additionally, the camps had been built by Nazi POWs, which understandably upset the Jewish detainees.

Some 400 Jews died in the internment camps in Cyprus.

Jewish children in a British detainment camp in Cyprus after the Holocaust. Some 400 Jews died in these camps, due to lack of sanitation, malnutrition, subpar medical care, ill-treatment, and other poor conditions.

ATLIT

Atlit was a British concentration camp near Haifa used to hold Arabs and Jews under administrative detention (i.e. without a trial) during the period of the British Mandate. It was built in the 1930s and was primarily used to imprison Jewish refugees who arrived in Palestine. Some 10,000 Jewish refugees were held there. 

Men and women were separated upon arrival and sent to showers to be deloused with dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane. Since many of the prisoners were Nazi concentration camp survivors, the showers were especially frightening and traumatic. Barbed wire formed a barrier between the men and women in the camp and the perimeter was surrounded by watchtowers eerily reminiscent of the Nazi camps. Children were separated from their parents. 

A nurse at Atlit described the conditions in 1947: “"...when the Jewish Agency asked me to come here, I felt maybe at last I could do something for the survivors. Then I saw the things that you're seeing now. The results of the Nazi dehumanization. People with no belief in the future, apathetic, quarrelsome, no morals...”

JEWISH INSURGENCY AGAINST THE BRITISH

Had the British been “on the side of the Zionists,” then there would have been no need for the Zionists to launch an insurgency against the British.

Zionist non-violent and violent (including terrorism) resistance to the British began after the 1939 White Paper. It was temporarily put on hold with the outbreak of the Holocaust, when the head of the Jewish Agency and future first prime minister of Israel, David Ben Gurion, announced, “We must assist the British in the war as if there were no White Paper and we must resist the White Paper as if there were no war.”

Towards the end of the Holocaust, however, the Irgun resumed its anti-British operations, when its leader and future prime minister Menachem Begin announced in February of 1944: “There can no longer be an armistice between the Jewish Nation and its youth and a British administration in the Land of Israel which has been delivering our brethren to Hitler…Our nation is at war with this regime and it is a fight to the finish.” 

The Haganah, which was under the jurisdiction of the officially recognized Jewish leadership in Palestine, remained mostly cooperative with the British, while putting pressure on them to open up Jewish refugee restrictions.

 Perhaps most infamous of all Irgun operations was the bombing of the King David Hotel in 1946, where the British held administrative quarters. Begin had warned the British of the bombing in advance, giving them ample time to evacuate their staff and hotel guests, but they didn’t listen. In the end, 91 people were killed in the bombing.

Following the bombing, the Irgun and Lehi continued attacking British police and military targets. In retaliation, the British imposed a number of restrictions on the Jewish population of Palestine,such as martial law, military curfews, random searches, and mass arrests. Tensions grew between the Haganah — which condemned the bombings — and the Irgun and Lehi.

BRITISH ANTISEMITISM

The unrest in Palestine reignited widespread British antisemitic sentiment, both within the Mandate and in Great Britain. 

For example, after the Irgun kidnapped and hung two British sergeants, British soldiers went on a rampage in Tel Aviv, indiscriminately attacking the Jewish community and killing five Jews. In Great Britain, the outraged population rioted against the Jewish community, a riot which devolved into a pogrom, with many carrying signs with messages such as “Hitler was right.”

Jews were consistently put under curfews and subjected to ill-treatment.

Winston Churchill himself wrote that the British soldiers in Palestine were strongly pro-Arab. The Jewish Agency issued frequent complaints that the soldiers made antisemitic remarks, such as “bloody Jew,” “pigs,” or even vowing to finish the job that Hitler had started. 

It was the British officers in Palestine that first engaged in Holocaust inversion; that is, the depiction of Jews as Nazis. In March of 1945 — about two months before the Nazis even surrendered — the High Commissioner of Palestine, Lord Gort, told the Colonial Secretary in London that “the establishment of any Jewish State in Palestine…will almost inevitably mean the rebirth of National Socialism [i.e. Nazism] in some guise.”

Sir John Bagot Glubb, who later became the British Commander of the Jordanian Arab Legion during the 1948 war, called Jews “unlikeable, aggressive, stiff-necked, vengeful, and imbued with the idea of [being] a superior race.”

1948

The British abstained from voting in the 1948 United Nations Partition Vote. Some British officials, most notably British Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin, openly opposed any partition or establishment of a Jewish state.

The British fought in both official and unofficial capacities alongside the Arabs in the 1948 war. In other words, they fought against the establishment of a Jewish state and in favor of an Arab state. Most importantly, British officer John Bagot Glubb commanded the Jordanian Arab Legion in 1948.

After the British withdrew from Mandatory Palestine on the eve of Israel’s independence, they handed their arms over to the Arabs, not the Jews. In fact, it was British intelligence that convinced the Arabs to invade in 1948.

At one point in 1949, the British even considered invading the State of Israel to protect their own interests in Egypt.

In conclusion:

Before the British even set foot in Palestine, they had made contradictory promises of sovereignty to Jews, Arabs, and other Middle Eastern minorities.

However, by the time that the British actually were in Palestine, they actively did everything they possibly could to appease the Arabs, thus working to prevent the establishment of a Jewish state.

Had a Jewish state not become a reality in spite of the British, the Balfour Declaration would have long been forgotten, just like the unfulfilled promises the British made to the Assyrians and Kurds.

The fact of the matter is that virtually every border in the Middle East was carved up by the British and French, yet only the Jewish state is delegitimized on that basis. In fact, some countries were invented by the British entirely. For example, the British aided in the creation of Saudi Arabia by funding and supporting the Al Saud family, which, with their help, came to dominate a large chunk of the Arabian Peninsula. The British quite literally invented Iraq when they created the Mandate of Iraq in 1921 in part of what had long been known as other regions, including Assyria, Mesopotamia, and Babylonia. And, of course, the British created Jordan when they handed an enormous piece of the Mandate of Palestine over to the Hashemites in 1922. The Hashemites are from Arabia, not Transjordan.

For a full bibliography of my sources, please head over to my Instagram

rootsmetals

EDIT - 1948 slide - partition vote was in 1947! Sorry typo 😅

the British put Jewish children (Holocaust survivors!!!!) in concentration camps to appease the Palestinian Arab leaders, but the BaLfOuR dEcLaRaTiOn, right? 🙄 Crazy how certain people think it’s totally fine to whitewash this horrid history when this whitewashing comes at the expense of Jews and Jewish trauma. Genuinely wondering if you’d treat another minority’s history like this.

[scoobydoodean]

Honestly I think that a lot of the reason why people view dean as abusive towards jack is because they genuinely think of him as a baby/toddler and not someone with the cognitive abilities of an older teenager/young adult who just happens to not really know much about the world. Obviously there's more to it because people ignore that cas wanted to put jack in the cage and sam wanted to use his power, but I stumbled across a post the other day about how they (the writers and the characters) should've given jack a capri-sun instead of a beer because he's a "literal toddler"... which is just completely incorrect and considering he has the body and brain development of someone who's older, there's no reason to not give him a beer. (also is anyone really a dad unless they give their 3 yr old a beer /j)

Context

It's funny because the whole point of the beer scene is to establish that Jack is not a child and that treating him like one would be ridiculous.

[DEAN grabs and opens a bottle of beer. JACK imitates him.] DEAN Wait, wait, wait, wait. How old do you think you are? JACK 3 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes.

(From 13.02)

When Jack proves that he has such an advanced understanding of communication and time and such an unusual awareness of exactly how much time has passed, Dean immediately realizes that treating him as if he's a baby makes absolutely no sense because he clearly isn't one. Treating him like a child would be infantilizing, and we see Jack rebel against the notion that he's a baby a few times.

There's some push I think to separate Jack's intellectual abilities from his emotional coping abilities, but even these I think are more or less on track with other young adolescents around the age he presents himself to be when controlling for traumatic experiences. Jack's initial emotional regulation abilities don't read like those of a toddler, but of a young adult who's confused and upset and has been through a lot. Without powers in the mix that he doesn't know how to control, his emotional regulation abilities seem fairly standard for boys his age (at least to me). I don't think for example, that the anger he experiences and the reasons he experiences that anger can be equated with toddler-like tantrums, and any other person whose been around a toddler and sees what kind of things make them furious knows what I mean.

Granted, there are things Jack is naive about that are probably connected to him being "born yesterday". We see this early on when Asmodeus tries to manipulate Jack into opening a hell gate. At the same time, this interaction also highlights Jack's innate sense of right and wrong as a counterbalance. I personally find it frustrating when people try to take away Jack's understanding of right and wrong (rooted in his love for others) and cast him as a baby to the extent that he isn't even capable of understanding the golden rule, when Jack shows over and over how seriously he takes the personhood of other people and the weight of their lives. This is what allows him to see through Asmodeus's trickery in a very confusing situation, simply realizing, "you're hurting my friends". Jack using his care for others as a foundation to navigate Asmoedus's trickery also serves as excellent contrast to soulless Jack in 14.19. Soulless Jack was not able to grasp that Dumah was manipulating him because he was missing this crucial piece of himself—his love for other people including strangers. Because he was lacking that part of himself at that time, he was unable to grasp that filling someone's body with worms for not wanting to be turned into an angel is horrible and cruel and couldn't be a good thing. His naivety played a role in what happened, but it was the crucial missing soul that actually allowed this situation to transpire. I think a lot of people just straight up think normal Jack also would have been manipulated into killing people for Dumah in this circumstance and I really just don't think that's true at all.

[jewish-vents]

I knew people hated us but I don’t think I truly understood just how *deeply and violently* they hate us. I always thought it was a passive kind of hate, an annoyed but tepid hate. I saw some concerning stuff during 2021 but convinced myself it was just chronically online idiots. And of course there were also Nazis, sure, but everyone else didn’t really care, right? This last year has proven me so so so wrong. I barely interact with gentiles anymore because I am so utterly terrified. The week after October 7, I was cornered in the grocery store several times, in the months following I was pushed out of a support group, my gentile friends didn’t get it, so now I pretty much exclusively hang out with other Jews. I don’t wear my kippah anymore except at shul, I don’t wear my Star of David, I just hide. And I feel like such a coward. But this last year has been mentally and emotionally devastating. My PTSD has been in overdrive with all the gaslighting and I just don’t know how much longer I can handle it. It feels selfish, given that there are people being held hostage, people who were killed or have been displaced, but it’s gotten so violent in the diaspora that I can’t ignore it anymore. How did we get here? How do we come back from this? Can we? Will I ever be able to trust gentiles again? Will I ever get my friends back? My community back? Will it be this generation or next that has to run? When will we get to stop running?

.

[justthinkingaboutlouis]

Supreme court better roll out judgement favour of LGBTQ+ community

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

actually the way that line should have gone is *record scratch* you. think i'm handsome??

[youaremysunshine-court]

The saddest thing is the witcher could have portrayed healthy found familial relationship in a non-traditional way, but they went and forced yennefer into the role of mother, geralt into the role of father, completely did away with jaskier, and didn't even bother to consider that every single witcher in Kaer Morhen could be considered ciris father, but no, there's a husband and a wife and a child and that's all there is to it

[biblicalhorror]

My relationship with my mom has come such a long way in the past few years only to come crashing down the second I try to do something nice for my dad and/or acknowledge that she is not the main character of the universe ://

[goodpointsandbadpoints]

everything is really wrecked by people not knowing themselves, and not respecting each other, and not being able to communicate (reciprocally).

need to inject the definition of intimacy into peoples' brains. how do we do this.

[biracy]

I think it's actually kind of to be expected for a lot of trans people to feel a little iffy in conversations abt "removing the boundaries between cis and trans" bc it is So often something that is used directly against us lmao. Like the whole thing that trans people are "forcing" all the poor gnc cis people who can't think for themselves into mutilating their bodies or "why can't you just be a masculine woman/a feminine man" or "by being trans you're literally saying that masculine = male and feminine = female which means you're actually a conservative who hates women". When a LOT of people talk abt "removing the boundary" they mean removing trans people. There are a LOT of people who are MUCH more comfortable with gnc cis people than they are with trans people (literally regardless of how much we "pass" or whatever btw), so there is a distinction, politically speaking. I DO think that ideally there should be little to no distinction between "cis" and "trans", and I also think that for a very large amount of gnc gay people who still id as cis there IS a very considerable overlap with trans experiences and that is important, worthy of acknowledging, and worthy of solidarity, but also like I don't think it's unreasonable for trans people, a group of people whose existence is extremely threatened right now, who cannot go two fucking seconds without having to hear about people who do NOT want us to be trans, to react a little strongly during conversations abt removing the boundaries that categorize us as trans. In My Opinion.

[orcelito]

Ykno the suckiest thing about being broken up with for someone else is that like. Well I'm doing generally fine, all things considered, but I Am kinda sad thinking about the things I've lost and all the casual affection that I can't have now.

But she's out there having all the affection she wants from her coworker, and it's just like. Damn this feels so skewed and SO unfair.