#really blew my idea of human history out of the water

[swagging-back-to]

fossils and archeology are irl lore but no one cares

[achilleslefttoe]

The Gods.

hihihihihihi, so basically this is mostly for @star-realities but im making it public cause yes. hope this is helpful so basically, im writing a book series, and my big idea was to make design gods for the world inspired by me and the friends i created the world for. there've been multiple versions of this series but the very first was based on me and 3 of my friends. I found it fitting to make us the gods of the world because if it weren't for us, the book nor the world it takes place in would exist.

so these are us, i made the photos on picrew (@/hunbloom). but anyways here's the actual lore. basically Achaii woke up one day bored as hell and said "damn, this thing we live in is bland as hell. imma spice it up" and grabbed their paintbrush and made the sky. Legends say they still paint the sky every night and morning.

Evanitis saw this and joined in making greenery. The two enjoyed their freedom and the other two watched. Zacharaea and Maion never really liked each other but they both loved Ace and Evan. Then Zach wanted to join in, so he and Evan made fire by accident. Zach, overwhelmed by pride cried, and Ace stepped in to make the oceans and rivers to store the tears of Zach and later on the others. The tear thing is important later. Mae blew the fire out to keep it from spreading, they all knew the power that their creations had.

After Mae had blown out the fire, the earth parted. Evan fixed it to be somewhat uniform afterward. (goodbye Pangea) They called their island Te Etearia Isle, later changed to The Ethereal Isles. Located off the southern coast of France.

After this, Evan created an herb he was fond of and decided to burn it, after he burnt it, he began creating whatever the fuck he wanted (yes, i'm implying he made weed)

One night the deities came together to create the first humans. They loved each other in VARIOUS different ways but it got lonely when it was just the 4 of them. Mae worked out the fine tuning of humans. Two arms, two legs, two lungs, a head, brain, and heart. Of course and so on. Each one of their first humans had their own special features but i haven't worked them all out yet.

Anyways, back to the tears thing. In my story, on their side (there's their realm and our side aka the boring non magic side) there are four bodies of water that are considered Tears of a God, which is written in Latin but I don't have a perfect translation for it yet. These bodies of water have special properties that vary depending on which god cried into them. They're all salt water cause yk, they're tears.

I have one for everyone but Evan, the only thing I know about his is that it's like The Yellow River in China, it's rough and prone to flooding for a very specific reason. But that reason is written in my history notebook that i left in my locker at school.

Ace's (well mine) is called Mourner's Peak, where there's multiple little ponds (or maybe geysers idk yet) each one evokes a different emotion. Mostly negative, but some positive.

Zach's is the original pond Ace had made for him to cry into when they made fire for the first time. That is the main portal, his tears make it possible to travel from each realm easily.

Mae's in a deep deep saltwater pond, under it is the cave where she locked away the other three gods. They're stuck under there for thousands of years.

also, the star over bethlehem where people say jesus was born is where the big fight between Mae and the others happened. The star was Ace fighting cause yk they're the deity of the cosmos and celestial magic. Also toying with the idea I wrote the bible as a joke and someone found it after we locked away and then continued it lmao.

anyways, that's it for now. if anyone has questions or wants me to go into more detail on anything, I will gladly do so. Also if you wanna hear more about my series in general, i will gladly ramble about it

[racingtoaredlight]

St. Helens

I always knew about the eruption of the volcano under Mt. St. Helens, but I listened to a podcast about this dude’s experience on there that fucking blew me away and sent me in a deep dive.

The video at the top is one probably most of us are familiar with...it sets the stage for two critical elements of the story I heard.  First, they didn’t expect it to erupt sideways.  Second, this was the largest landslide in recorded human history...over a mile of the mountain’s north face was displaced.  From beginning signs of eruption to the aftermath, St. Helens lost 1,300 feet of elevation.

The mountain had been bulging like a pregnant zit for weeks.  Just swelling up more and more, causing all sorts of shit.  There were more earthquakes in six weeks here than the state of California experiences in an entire decade.  Think about that for a second...

***

Lets talk about the landslide...

The video I’m about to post is the aftermath of Seattle KOMO cameraman Dave Crockett’s chase.  Chase is the perfect word for it because here are the estimates for the speed of the debris tsunami that was racing after him...initial speeds after the eruption were likely 200mph, reaching critical speeds of over 600mph that were capable of breaking the sound barrier.

Let me put this in perspective...the governement issued a safety radius of 7 miles.  The landslide and all its mass traveled over 7 miles in just over 10 minutes.

Crockett jumped in his car, had this feeling and kept checking his rearview mirror.  All of the sudden, he saw a giant wave of mud, ice, boulders, entire tree trunks and other assorted forest detritus melded together by magma and thick ash, that was about the height of a 3-story building...bulldozing and entire forest of trees in its path.  Here’s an idea of how powerful this landslide was...

*this massive tree was absolutely shredded by the blast itself

*note the humans circled in the bottom right corner for scale

When he looked back towards the road, he saw another giant wave cut across in front of him...he immediately swerved, and by the grace of god, landed on an unused forest road that was somehow safe from all these landslides...got out of his car and started rolling.

I’ve watched the whole video.  It’s honestly kind of boring until things get worse and worse...and it’s still kinda boring because it’s pitch black ash all around him.  His survival is so outrageously lucky, it’s almost impossible to comprehend.

***

The first pic in this section is two pictures taken by photographer Robert Landsburg a few minutes apart.  The second is his camera.  There are supposed images of his car too, but I think they’re mislabeled and actually the car of another photographer lost in the eruption, Reid Blackburn.

The thing is, they knew it was going to erupt...putting up safety radii and warning people and shit...but nobody knew when.  The mountain just kept bulging, getting more and more pregnant...earthquakes were a matter of daily life at that point and the timing couldn’t really tell...so you had a few dudes up there still taking pictures and doing science stuff.

And, like I said above,.the other thing was that nobody expected the volcano to erupt sideways like it did either...

Landsburg must have known he was already dead.  He snapped these pictures, climbed in the car, put the film from his camera back in its case, threw all the stuff into his backpack, and shielded it with his body hoping to preserve it.  They found his body 17 days later, the film miraculously in tact (if not a little damaged).

In that first picture, use the treeline for context...those pictures are a few minutes apart, and yet look at the sheer size of that oncoming hellscape and think about how fast it was moving.  There was no escape from that kind of power.

***

There’s no point or conclusion to this...just blew my mind.

The lake adjacent to St. Helens, Spirit Lake, took the biggest brunt of the blast.  Almost directly in line with the massive sideways displacement and ensuing landslide, the lake’s water was completely slammed to one side of the lake...

If you know anything about tsunami’s, you’ll know I’m describing one right now.  When all that debris slammed into Spirit Lake and shoved the water to one side...it comes back, you know.  The science is pretty well known for shit like this, and judging by the displacement and speed, the ensuing wave of water rushing back would’ve been about 600 feet high.

43 years later, this is what the lake looks like now.  Go to 1:06:00 in the video below.

It’s really incredible shit. 

[stylesluxx]

imprint – p.lahote

[warnings: angst, swearing, an anxiety attack]

summary: in which y/n thinks it's just the imprint talking | part two

word count: 6,171

masterlist

"Long night?"

You sighed and turned around to face your best friend. You've known Jacob for as long as you can remember. You went to the same schools (you begged your parents to keep you together) and his house was a two-minute walk from yours.

"Very," You nodded and turned back around to shove your chemistry textbook in your locker.

"I can't believe you spend your nights looking through this stupid textbook."

"I can't believe you think it's okay to bother me at 8 AM," You retorted playfully and shut your locker.

"Don't be friends with me then," He shrugged and wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you started walking to your first class.

"I hope those two idiots are on time."

"Embry and Quil? On-time? Come on, Y/N, let's be realistic here."

You laughed and shook your head as you walked into your Spanish class. You happily greeted your teacher and sat in your usual spot in the middle of the class. Jake took the seat next to you and you looked over at the empty seats Quil and Embry would later occupy.

The bell rang, signifying the start of the first period and you felt Jacob move to take your backpack off your back.

"You really must be tired," He chuckled and set the bag next to your seat.

"You have no idea," You yawned and put your hand up to cover your mouth.

Quil and Embry ran into the room, panting and heaving, right after the morning announcements ceased.

"Typical," You mumbled.

They apologized to the teacher for disrupting the class before moving to their seats. As they walked in front of your table, you stuff a foot out and watched Quil trip and push Embry forward involuntarily.

"Watch it, you clumsy idiot!" Embry whisper-yelled, making you giggle.

"It was Y/N's fault. She tripped me," Quil argued as they both took their seats.

Quil and Embry were a package deal. One summer you went to Boston to visit some family and when you came back, Jacob had made some new friends. At the age of eight, you were used to having Jacob all to yourself but the two idiots refused to leave you alone once you came back just in time for school. The two boys grew on you fairly quickly (they brought you candy every day to get on your good side) and the four of you grew super close, they were practically your brothers.

You glanced around the classroom to see if anyone was distracted by the two idiots but at this point, no one bothered paying the two any attention.

You noticed there was one empty seat left and you realized the spot belonged to Paul Lahote.

Paul Lahote was an enigma. Well, only to you. Everyone knew he was hotheaded and cocky but there was something about him that pulled you in. As deluded as it sounded, you believed there to be another side to Paul Lahote.

You looked away from the empty seat and fixed your eyes on the classroom door opening and closing. There he was, in all his glory.

Jacob scoffed and rolled his eyes as he watched you become entranced in the boy you had a crush on.

"Still don't know what you see in him," Jacob whispered.

"I have a thing for unrequited love," You shrugged.

Paul would usually walk in with a boastful smirk on his face but today it was replaced with a frown and his eyebrows were furrowed in discomfort.

He quietly talked to the teacher and handed her a note. She nodded and took the piece of paper from him, setting it on her desk.

He kept his head down as he trudged over to his seat by the window and sat down. His head immediately met the table, his arms in between his head and the desk to give him some comfort.

"Have you guys ever thought about setting alarms?"

You scoffed at this question that was directed toward Embry and Quil. It was lunchtime and your hand was moving fast, trying to finish your Spanish homework so you wouldn't have to waste time doing it at home.

"Ashley, do you think they've ever even heard of alarm clocks?" You questioned.

Ashley was first introduced to the group during freshman year. She was new to La Push but had no issue walking up to you and asking for a friend.

"I figured since it's the first day, we could just be each other's comfort," She shrugged.

Of course, she didn't know about the boys but she was soon introduced to them during gym class. Quil embarrassingly kicked a ball directly in her face, causing her to turn red, clearly infuriated.

"Of course this happens on the first day," You sighed and ran over to her. "Are you okay? I'm really sorry about my friend. He was born uncoordinated."

"Yeah, no kidding," She huffed and rubbed her red cheek that was beginning to swell.

She was still making Quil pay for the incident. Every time she wanted something from him, she'd milk the remind him of "the most tragic moment in La Push history." 

She wanted him to get lunch for her?

"Quil, remember when you almost shattered my face? Well, I do. It was the first day of high school. Can you go get me lunch?”

He’d just sigh and shake his head before standing up and doing whatever she asked.

While Embry and Quil argued over whose fault it was that they were always late, Ashley turned to you, head on palm and elbow on the table.

"So how's day one million of crushing on Paul Lahote?" She teased and of course, Jacob just rolled his eyes.

You reached over and tugged at his long hair gently, making him swat your hand away.

"Day one million of my ordinary life is going great," You nodded with a smile.

"You do realize, he's just your typical arrogant asshole, correct?" Embry spoke up.

"Well, it's not like I'll ever have to deal with it. As if he'd even think about talking to me," You blew a raspberry and scooped up a spoonful of the rice sitting on your plate.

"Speak of the devil," Ashley grinned and elbowed your ribs, making you jolt up from your sulking position.

You watched as he practically dragged himself over to the lunch line and grabbed a tray.

Any other day you'd watch his pretty brown eyes follow around the prettiest girls at school and give them a wink. Any other day, your heart would drop to your ass and you'd sigh in defeat. But today his bright smile stayed hidden and you watched as he scowled uncomfortably.

"Looks like someone's in a bad mood today," Quil observed.

"Oh, thank you, Captain Obvious. What was the giveaway?" Ashley quipped, her and Quil rolling their eyes at the same time.

"You guys realize he's human and can have a bad day, right?" You asked and watched him flop into a seat at an empty table.

"Oh really? I would've thought he was a god the way he walked around here," Jacob spoke sarcastically while chewing his food.

"He's just... misunderstood."

—

Days went by and Paul just stopped coming to school. The day after he came in looking out of place, he came to school two periods in, and then the day after that he just left school early. That was the last time you saw him.

For the first couple of days, you looked for him but after a week, you just gave up. Weeks went by and there was no sign of him, you just hoped that he was okay.

"Still have hope your little boyfriend isn't a high school dropout?" Jacob teased as he saw you look over at Paul's empty seat.

"Are you obsessed with him?" You rolled your eyes and hit his water bottle obnoxiously, knocking it down. "You guys always bring him up. Are you sure you're not the one crushing on him?”

"Don't disrespect me. If I was interested in guys, it definitely wouldn't be Lahote; I love myself enough."

You rolled your eyes again and scoffed before telling him to “just shut up.”

Once the bell finished ringing, Embry and Quil rushed in claiming they weren't late. Quil learned to walk behind your table instead of in front and tugged at your hair.

"Jackass," You mumbled and rubbed your head.

15 minutes into the lesson, the door opened and shut but you didn't bother to lift your head until you heard the voice.

"I apologize for being late," He spoke smoothly and your head whipped up in shock.

You watched the boy hand a note to the teacher with a smug grin on his face.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Jacob mumbled and raised an eyebrow.

"He looks much better," You mumbled back as you watched him confidently walk through the classroom and claim his seat.

"Yeah, and he got all muscly and tall. How do you gain that much height so quickly?"

"And you're sure you don't have a crush on him?"

But Jacob was right. When Paul disappeared he was scrawny and 5'11" but now he was muscular and at least 6'4". And was that a tattoo? He wore a shirt that showed off his muscles and a tattoo that wasn't there when he disappeared.

Once Spanish class let out everyone rushed out the classroom and in the doorway, you spotted Jared Cameron. Paul walked out ahead of you and met Jared, punching his shoulder playfully and laughing at whatever his newfound friend had said.

And now that you saw the two together, you remembered that Jared too disappeared earlier that year. He was in your second-period math class and one day he was there and the next he wasn't. He also looked sick the days leading up to his absence and came back taller and muscular. You looked closely and saw they both had the same tattoo in the same spot.

"Don't stare too hard, Creep," You heard Embry's voice.

You shoved him away before turning around and walking to your next period.

The day slowly dragged on and before you knew it you were in chemistry, the dreadful class right before lunch. You listened to your teacher drone on and on about something you didn't understand. By the end of the lesson you realized you'd have to skip lunch to get some help, so you sent the group chat a quick text before grabbing your things and moving to the front of the classroom. You sat down and politely asked the teacher for help, which she happily agreed to.

You were in the middle of balancing a formula when you heard feet shuffling into the classroom.

"Do you mind if I pick up some of the work I missed? It's all been excused."

"Sure, Paul. Let me head upstairs and grab it from my office. Just wait here," The teacher said and stood up from the chair. "And keep going Y/N, you're doing great!"

You nodded and kept your eyes on your paper as she retreated from the classroom. You finished the problem you were on and started working on the next one but you were stumped. This problem was nothing like the first and different rules had to be applied.

"I can't," You muttered to yourself and tossed your pencil down on the desk.

You pulled away from the desk and raised your head to look at the board in front of you but your eyes met another pair.

You weren't expecting Paul to be leaning against the board directly in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest. He must've looked over when he heard you speak and your eyes met coincidentally.

You gave him a forced and awkward smile when you realized he wasn't looking away. His arms fell to his sides and his mouth gaped as he continued to stare.

"Uh, are you alright?" You asked him and gave him a concerned look.

Before he could answer, the chem teacher came back in the room with a stack of papers in her hands. Paul quickly turned his attention to her, grabbed the papers, and whispered a soft thank you before bolting out of the room.

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment and turned your focus back to the paper in front of you.

For the rest of the day, you tried to push that moment to the back of your mind. You couldn't believe that was your first encounter with Paul. You were so embarrassed you weren't even going to tell your friends because you knew you'd never hear the end of it.

The rest of the day and into the next goes completely uneventful until it's time for lunch.

You were at your locker with Jacob, switching out notebooks and binders, teasing him about how he was drooling in his sleep during first period.

"You were snoring too," You lied, trying to get a reaction out of him.

"You are such a liar. What do you even gain from lying?"

You laughed and went to respond but were cut off by the view of Paul Lahote walking in your direction. He turned to look at Jared who just shooed him over with a hand motion, before turning back around, his eyes on you.

You ignored Jacob trying to regain your attention and gave Paul a gentle smile and prayed you wouldn't embarrass yourself.

"Hi, I'm Paul. Lahote. Paul Lahote. I've never really introduced myself which is weird because you're... stunning and we're in the same grade and I think we have some classes together," He babbled on nervously, making your eyebrows crinkle while you tried to keep up with what he was saying.

"I'm Y/N," You cut off his rambling and reached your hand out for him to shake.

He looked at it for a second before looking back at you with a smile and reaching his hand out to meet yours. You stood like this for a few moments, your hand in his and his eyes on you in awe.

Jacob cleared his throat and pulled Paul out of his trance as he turned to glare at Jacob, dropping your hand in the process.

"Is there something you needed?" You saved Jacob from Paul's death glare with this question.

Paul's head snapped toward you and he started to grow red in embarrassment or nervousness, you couldn't tell.

"I was, uh, I was wondering if you'd go on a date with me?"

You lightly gasped, unnoticeable to anyone but you, and your eyes slightly widened.

"O-oh wow," You mumbled and bent your head to look at the binder in your hands, trying to avoid the three sets of eyes on you. You felt the heat rise to your face and a shy smile grow. You weren't used to this type of attention especially from the boy you've been crushing on for three years, so you were a mix of nervous and shocked and happy. You were feeling everything at once.

"Only if you want to!" He started to backtrack when you didn't give him an answer.

You looked back up at him and shook your head at his words but you realized it looked like you were rejecting him when his face started to fall, disheartened.

"No! I mean, no, I don't mean no. I mean yes, I'll go on a date with you," You stammered, trying to clear everything up.

"Okay cool," He nodded and his pretty smile returned to his face. "I'll pick you up Saturday at noon?"

"Yeah, okay, sounds good."

"Okay cool," He repeated before walking away, making sure to give you a shy wave as he went toward Jared.

"What... the hell was that?" Jacob broke his silence and looked at you wide-eyed as you kept your eyes on Paul's retreating figure.

"Looks like I got a date."

—

The days leading up to your date had to be the most delightful days you've ever experienced while in high school.

On Wednesday morning, you were greeted by a smiley Paul who was leaning against your locker.

"Good morning," You smiled as he moved off your locker and leaned on the one next to yours.

"Morning! I thought I'd walk you to first period."

"Oh wow, you'll be early to class today," You teased, making him laugh and nod.

On Thursday, Paul walked you to class again; of course, you weren't complaining, you'd take any opportunity to talk to him. On this day, he met you at the doorway of the chem room and walked you to the cafeteria.

You thanked him as he opened the door for you and got hot in the face when you saw Ashley give you a wink and a thumbs up from the lunch table.

He kept you company as you waited in the lunch line and separated once you sat at your table, softly bidding you a good rest of the day.

And on Friday, everything was repeated but with a new addition.

Paul was waiting for you in the lobby and usually, Jacob would be trailing behind you but it was boys night for the boys and girls night for you and Ashley. So Jacob was catching a ride with Embry and Quil and Ashley was already waiting by your Jeep.

"Do you just want my schedule so you won't have to wait longer than you need to?" You asked him with a playful smirk.

"Then I'd officially be stalking you," He played along and followed you outside. He took your umbrella from your hands, opened it, and held it over your head to shield you from the rain.

"Are you always such a gentleman?" You giggled and looked up at him, his eyes already set on you and filled with admiration. "And it's not stalking if I want to be pursued."

"Oh really?" He raised an eyebrow.

You turned away and gave Ashley a quick smile once you reached the car.

"Do you need a ride?" You asked the boy next to you, turning back to face him.

"No, I've got a ride with Jared. But I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Can't wait," You confirmed and took the umbrella from his hands.

You shut the umbrella and got in the car as Paul walked over to Jared. You set the umbrella on the floor in the back and your backpack on the seat. Ashley followed your lead and punched your shoulder in excitement.

"Stop it," You whined and rubbed your shoulder.

As you pulled out of the parking spot, you drove by Paul and gave him one last wave before driving home to start the weekend.

Paul arrived the next day at exactly noon. When you heard the doorbell ring throughout the house, you sprinted down the stairs to make sure neither of your parents got there before you. You already told them you were going out with a friend earlier in the week but they assumed it was one of the dorks you usually spent your time with and you let them think that. You didn't want to introduce them to Paul just for things to not work out. It even took you a while to introduce them to Ashley. People meeting your parents is a sacred thing, a rite of passage if you will.

"You look gorgeous. You are gorgeous!" He greeted you with a bright smile.

"Thank you, though I'm just wearing jeans and a sweatshirt," You shrugged and shut the door behind you. "No offense, but you look tired. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Oh no, it's okay," He shook his head and his eyes fell toward the ground while he thought of a response. "I just was anxious about the date is all. Couldn't really sleep much."

He walked you over to his truck and opened the door for you, which you thanked him for, before going over to the driver's side. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Try to get some rest tonight. Some tea usually helps me. I'll give you a couple of my relaxation teabags when you bring me back home. Just remind me," You spoke softly while giving him a concerned look. "Will do," He nodded and pulled out of your driveway.

He brought you to your favorite diner in all of Washington and was super polite. He was opening the doors for you, pulling out your seat, and even paid for the meal even though you argued against it. And though he was tired, he was clinging onto every word you said, leaning in to show he was interested. "Is that your favorite food?" He asked once the waiter took your orders. "No, but I do enjoy it," You shrugged. "What's your favorite food then?" "I like any kind of pasta," You said after pondering for a moment. "Spaghetti, ravioli, lasagna, and anything else." And that's how it went the whole time. Paul would ask you questions, trying to get to know you in any way possible and you'd answer and ask him questions.

It was fun, there was never a dull moment, and even when things were getting quiet, he'd crack a joke that'd make you burst into laughter. It was the perfect date in your eyes; he was so polite and caring or maybe it was just you giving your crush more credit than he deserved, but that still didn't change how you felt.

When Monday came around, Paul was at your locker and classes, waiting for you and walking with you. At lunch, he was standing by your chem class with a Tupperware bowl in his hand and a nervous demeanor.

"Hey, what's that?" You asked and pointed to the bowl he was gripping onto tightly.

"I, uh, I brought you pasta. It's spaghetti. You said that pasta was your favorite food so I kinda made you some. Well, I helped make it," He nervously stumbled over his words, making you giggle. You stopped walking once you got to your table and he held his arms straight out, handing the bowl to you. "Here you go."

You felt the heat rise to your face once again and you took the bowl from him. You glanced down at the bowl before looking back up at him and pulling him into a hug.

"This was so beyond thoughtful. Thank you so much," You praised him and rubbed his back with your free hand. You pulled away and held the bowl up to your eyes so you could see the food. You set your hands back by your waist again and locked eyes with his, both sets of eyes filled with amazement. "This was so sweet."

"Anything for you," He nodded.

"I'll give it back to you right after lunch. I promise," You told him and held out a pinky.

He chuckled and grabbed onto your pinky with his own, "I believe you."

He let go of you and walked off to sit with Jared but you kept your eyes on him and watched his friend grab onto his shoulders and shake him happily.

You turned to your table and sat down, already replaying what just happened in your mind.

"Wow," Embry started.

"I've never seen you that cheesy before," Jacob chortled.

"I've never seen Paul that cheesy before," Quil scoffed. "So are you gonna share that?" He asked and pointed to your bowl.

"Anyway, Y/N, how was the date?" Ashley asked, pulling your attention from the boys.

"Oh it was great, he was very sweet! I like him. I told you guys he's not bad like everyone makes him out to be," You swooned at the thought of how you spent your Saturday.

"It's like he can hear you, that stupid grin won't leave his face," Embry observed, making you turn your head to look at Paul.

"So what if he's happy? Y/N's happy," Ashley regained your attention and you nodded at her statement.

"Very happy."

Once you finished up the spaghetti, you excused yourself from the table and went to go rinse it out. You walked over to Jared and Paul's table; Jared was the first to notice since Paul's back was toward you and pointed at you. You gave him a small smile before turning your attention to Paul.

"The food was really good. I rinsed the bowl out but of course, you'll have to wash it when you get home. Thank you again though," You spoke gratefully and handed the bowl back to him.

He took the bowl from you and then you proceeded to lean down and peck his cheek before scurrying back to your table in shock by your actions.

"This is a proud moment for me," Ashley feigned tears and held a hand over her chest, making you laugh.

—

For weeks it seemed like the joy Paul brought to your life was never-ending.

You've gone on a couple more dates which you thoroughly enjoyed. He took you to the movies but fell asleep within the first five minutes. You laughed quietly and shook your head as you rested on his shoulder.

He explained to you how he sometimes has to work overnight shifts at his job, so you didn't fault him for being tired. You tried to cancel the dates and get him to catch up on his sleep, but he insisted on spending time with you, making you adore him even more.

The two of you were in Port Angeles for the next date and while it was freezing, you were both sitting on a bench outside eating ice cream.

"You're not cold?" You looked at Paul as you shivered.

"No, are you?" He asked and you nodded your head quickly. "Come on, let's go sit in my truck."

You stood up and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his warmth and hummed happily at the feeling of him.

He opened the door to his truck and helped you get in then shut the door behind you. He got in on the driver's side, turned the car on, and turned the heat on.

"You have that big coat on and you're still cold?" He teased.

"You only have a sweatshirt on and still feel hotter than the sun."

He laughed and watched you lean back in the seat and go back to eating your ice cream. You felt his eyes on you for a while but you kept your eyes on the rain that started to fall outside.

"You know, you could always just ask to take a picture," You teased, looking at him from your peripheral vision.

"Okay." He took his phone from his pocket and faced it toward you. "Smile!"

You turned to him enthusiastically and gave him a big childlike smile before giving him a regular one.

"Let me see," You softly demanded, losing the rush of confidence you just had.

He turned the screen to you and showed you the pictures.

"You're so beautiful," He complimented as he set his new screensaver as a picture of you. The heat automatically rose to your cheeks and giggled happily.

"I could say the same."

You looked up at him and met his eyes, your heart racing, and your stomach full of butterflies.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?" He asked politely, looking from your eyes to your lips, and then back.

"No, not at all," You slightly shook your head and leaned in closer.

He filled in the rest of the space and his lips gently landed on yours. He set his phone down and both of his hands reached up to cup your face. With your eyes shut, you focused on the kiss and how soft his lips were; you knew you were instantly addicted, not wanting to pull away. But you had to breathe, so when you pulled away, you gave him one last peck before coyly turning around to face the windshield and finish your ice cream.

"That was perfect."

—

Paul arrived at your house a week later, pulling you by your hand energetically into the woods.

"Paul, where are we going?" You giggled as you held onto his hand while stepping over a log.

"We're going to the beach but I have to tell you something. Well... show you something. That's why we're walking."

"Oh okay, what is it?"

"So, you've heard the Quileute legends, I'm sure" He started and pushed a tree branch out of the way. "Jacob has probably told you. But what if I told you it was real? And I'm a shapeshifter?"

"Uh, I'd probably laugh," You chuckled and looked up at him.

"Well, it's true. I can, uh, I can show you if you'd like," He stammered nervously and rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded hesitantly. He pulled his hand from yours and backed up. He shook his head as he kicked his shoes off and stripped out of his clothes.

"Paul?" You questioned.

"Just trust me. I need you to know that I'd never hurt you," He said before he started shaking and getting red all over.

Your eyes widened and your feet moved backward to get some more distance as he leaped into the air and was suddenly on all fours.

"Paul?" You said once more but shakier.

In front of you stood a huge dark silver wolf that was five times larger than your boyfriend that previously stood in front of you. At first, he was intimidating but then once he noticed your frightened expression, he started whining and the wolf tried to come closer.

You wanted to step back but you remember he said he'd never hurt you, so you tried to relax your mind and reached a hand up to pet his head.

He snuggled into your palm and huffed happily. You let out a breath of relief and giggled when he licked your cheek.

"My Paul," You nodded, coming to terms with what is.

He reluctantly pulls away from your touch and goes over to where he left his clothes. He picked his shorts up in his mouth before walking away and going behind a tree somewhere.

You assumed he needed to change back so you grabbed his shirt and sneakers off the ground, but stayed put otherwise.

He jogged back over to you in his human form, already holding his hand out for you to take. You latched onto his hand and he took his sneakers out your hands, but let you keep his shirt.

"So do you believe me?" He asked, sarcasm laced in his voice, as he pulled you along toward the beach.

You nodded but asked the question that sat in the front of your mind. "Does it hurt when you..?" You trailed off, not knowing the right term.

"When I shift?" He finished. "It used to hurt a lot like my whole body was on fire but now it just feels like little pinches all over my body."

"I don't like that, Paul," You frowned and shook your head at the thought of him being in any type of pain.

"Oh, me either, Darling," He said while pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. "Also, you can't tell anyone. Not even Jacob. It's imperative that you don't."

"Okay," You nodded obediently before demonstrating you zipping your mouth closed and tossing the keys somewhere in the trees.

"Silly girl," He smiled.

"And what about Jared?"

"He shifts too. Along with Sam Uley. I'm sure you know him; La Push is only so big. We think Jacob might be next. Him or Embry."

"There's nothing they can do to stop it?" You asked him, worried for your friends.

"If the lee-" He cut himself off. "Sadly, no. If they seem a little off to you, a little more on edge than usual, tell me. And try to get some distance, I don't want you getting hurt if they shift."

You slipped your sneakers off once you got to the beach along with your socks and stuff them into the shoes. You insisted that you sat right there the water would be able to touch your feet but still far enough where your clothes jeans stayed dry.

Paul dragged you out of the house while you were only wearing a tank top on your upper body, so the beach air sent chills throughout your body. You pulled on Paul's plain brown shirt and leaned against him, your own personal heater.

"So being this warm is a wolf thing?" You inquired.

"Yeah," He nodded. "There's also something called imprinting."

"And what's that?"

Paul looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear but it was 8:00 PM, no one would be here unless it was one of the boys.

"Basically it's like a soulmate; a soulmate mixed with love at first sight. After phasing, I was able to imprint. It was completely involuntary, I didn't have a choice. When you see the person, your person, it's like nothing else matters. They're the reason you've been put on this earth. It's your job to protect them. be whatever they want you to be. A friend, a lover. You just will do anything for them. It hurts to be away from them for too long. You hurt when they hurt," Paul explained while keeping his eyes on the moon ahead of him.

"You know the feeling?" You hesitantly asked while turning to look over at him. You didn't want to ask in case you weren't his imprint but the curiosity took over and you needed to know.

"I imprinted on you. You're my imprint," He confirmed.

"Oh," You breathed out and turned to look at the water that gently touched your toes.

You received a lot of information today. And then to find out that Paul imprinted on you gave you a lot of mixed emotions. You were happy that you found the person you're supposed to be with forever but now you were looking at the whole relationship differently.

"So when did you phase?" You asked, keeping your eyes down.

"You remember when I was out of school for a bit?"

"Mhm," You hummed quietly and nodded.

"That's when. I imprinted on you that day you were getting help in the chem room."

"So..." You trailed off, trying to think of the exact words you wanted to say. "You only asked me out because you imprinted on me?"

"Yes," He answered quickly but then shook his head when he realized what you were trying to get at. "No, I mean no. It's not like that."

"I've had a crush on you since freshman year. I thought you'd finally noticed me and wanted me for me, but I guess it's only because of the imprint," You humorlessly chuckled and held your knees to your chest.

"No, Y/N, it's not like that-"

"Think about it, Paul. You've never noticed me before and our school is so tiny; La Push is only so big like you said. Everyone knows everyone and you still didn't notice me. You would've never even breathed in my direction had it not been for the imprint. I'm only beautiful, or gorgeous... or stunning, because the imprint tells you I am. You don't really think that and you don't really like me. Be honest with yourself," You ranted but still had a soft and gentle voice.

"Y/N..."

"I want to be with someone who chooses to love me. You are forced to love me," You sniffled and wiped your nose with your hand.

It was silent for a while after that and you just let the tears fall down your face. Somewhere deep down you knew everything with Paul was all too good to be true but you ignored it. You believed you were finally getting the fairytale story you deserved. But this wasn't it. It was like some twisted joke the universe was playing on you. And you just wanted someone to hold you. You wanted Paul to hold you and tell you everything would be alright. Despite how you were feeling, you still felt a sense of safety and home around him. But you couldn't fall into that anymore. You were now full-on bawling your eyes out and hiccuping while trying to keep the sobs from escaping your body.

"For your sake, l-let's still be friends. But for m-my sake, very distant friends-"

"Y/N, please-"

"Goodbye, Paul."

You stood up quickly and grabbed your shoes, trudging through the sand. You let a sob escape your mouth once you were a distance away. You felt it getting harder to breathe, so you picked up the pace, wanting to get to your destination before you passed out. There was only one place you could think of going that gave you the same warmth and homeliness you felt in Paul's arms. Jacob's.

[AN: omg I’m so nervous about posting this but I’ve been working on it for weeks and I’m really proud of it. thanks for reading!]

[five-rivers]

Loved chapter 4

Written for Dannymay 2021 Day 3: Portal, even though the connection is sort of tenuous.

.

Bad things happened when Vlad came to Amity Park. For that matter, bad things happened wherever Vlad was. It was part of what made Vlad Vlad. Some part of his otherness, some twist of the shadow-fabric he was made of that left rot and ruin wherever his hem brushed. Of course, Vlad was never affected by this misfortune. In fact, he seemed to suck the luck out of everyone around him. Like a vampire.

Along with sanity. But that was a given for the others, even partial others, like Vlad. Or Danny.

But Vlad didn’t even try to hide or ameliorate the effects he had on people, didn’t try to keep them safe, to make their lives shine like the precious lights they were.

(Danny drummed his fingers on his chest and wondered, if, perhaps, it would feel less empty if Clockwork let him become a jewel box.)

But that was the way Vlad was, and Danny felt him enter Amity Park like nails on a chalkboard. His skin started to itch. His teeth hurt. Pressure pulsed in his head like waves of heat coming off asphalt. Being human, being real, was too tight, too heavy. It would be so easy to slip into the cool waters of the Dream and cut through them to wherever Vlad was.

No. He couldn’t. As shown time and time again, that would just exacerbate things. No matter what Vlad did, it would be worse if they fought, especially if there was anyone there to see it. Like what had happened with Jazz…

Danny was beyond lucky he’d been able to snap her out of whatever Vlad had done to her, but she still was quite right. The Vultures had actually apologized on Vlad’s behalf, after that.

(And wasn’t that strange, standing in the Dream on ground covered by bones and feathers, the Vultures on a dead tree, speaking as one. A thing of terror, apologizing for their ward. For pain suffered through Love. For lines crossed.)

Still. He had better… supervise Vlad, for a lack of a better word. Make sure he wasn’t getting up to anything. He’d go as a human – as himself.

He sighed and splayed his hands out on the table.

“Something wrong?” asked Sam, who had been making a complex sigil out of her fries and ketchup.

“Vlad’s in town,” said Danny. “I—”

The doors to the Nasty Burger were thrown open with a bang as Jazz came running in. She ran halfway through the store, to weak protests from the employee behind the counter, and skidded to a stop in front of their table.

“Vlad’s here,” he said.

“You saw him?” asked Danny, concerned. “Did he try—”

“No,” said Jazz. “I can just—It’s like he’s under my skin, and I—” She made a sound of frustration and gripped both sides of her head with clawed hands.

“Hey,” said Danny, gently, grasping her wrists. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay,” said Jazz, breathing deeply. “Alright. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.”

“It’s okay,” said Danny. He looked back to his friends. “Anyway, I’m going to go see what he wants, okay?”

“I’m coming with you,” said Sam, standing.

“Me too,” said Tucker. “Sort of. Halfway.”

“You really shouldn’t,” said Danny. “You know what happens when we get together.”

“Which is why we want to back you up,” said Sam. “As long as he stays physical, there’s stuff we can do.”

Unless Danny was prepared to do something incredibly inadvisable, there wasn’t much he could do to stop her. “Okay,” he said. “Just… be careful. If it looks like it’s going to turn into a fight, you need to leave.” He didn’t want them to get anymore spiritually messed up than they already were.

“We know, we know, you give us the spiel every time,” said Sam.

Yes, and Sam ignored it every other time. Danny shook his head. “Alright, let’s—”

Danny was promptly interrupted yet again, this time by his parents rushing in wearing… He could loosely call them clothes.

“It’s retro night, baby!” shouted Jack.

It was not retro night. There was no such thing as retro night at the Nasty Burger.

“I’ll take care of them,” said Jazz.

“Thanks,” muttered Danny, sliding out of the booth. “Come on, let’s go out the back.”

The alley behind the Nasty Burger was fetid in a way that made Danny’s shadow lift from the pavement and float on the air. Something that inhabited rats skittered in the corners at Danny’s presence and ran for a storm drain. He breathed shallowly.

“Which way?” prompted Tucker.

“He’s actually coming this way,” said Danny, frowning, debating facing him in this alley, just to see the disgust that would surely paint itself on Vlad’s face, paper-thin mask that it was.

Reality rippled, the surface tension that kept the Dream from bleeding in snapping. A miasma rose from the ground. Vlad stumbled into the alley, clutching at his face, which was melting. No, transforming. No, stretching. No, layering over itself a in dozen sickening ways, all the masks Vlad wore flickering over whatever truth he had all at once.

“Help me,” he grated. His words felt sick, diseased.

“Guys,” said Danny, fighting back the urge to vomit, “run.”

“No!” shrieked Vlad. “Help me!”

And sanity fractured like glass.

.

Whatever Danny’s parents had done to stabilize Vlad had worked, to a degree. It hadn’t fixed the underlying problem, which Danny could still feel slinking through the Dream. It also didn’t fix whatever he’d done to Sam and Tucker, although it had kept it from progressing further.

Danny took a slow, angry breath and ran a mental count of the lives stored inside his chest. They were there, all of them. Whatever happened to Sam and Tucker, they wouldn’t die.

But Danny knew there were fates worse than death.

His fingernails left half moon impressions on his palms as he clenched his fists. The Dream roiled with his fury, the force of it enough to keep Vlad’s diseased thoughts away.

“Daniel,” croaked Vlad. “Cure me.”

“That’s what Mom and Dad are trying to do.”

“Find a cure for me,” said Vlad, as if he hadn’t heard Danny at all, “and you’ll find a cure for your precious little friends.”

Danny stilled. “You did this on purpose.”

Vlad laughed. “Of course, I did, my dear boy. What value is a simple human mind compared to those such as we?”

Any rage Danny had felt up to this moment paled in comparison. The mirror over the sink cracked down the middle, never to show a true physical reflection again. He hated—

A concerned tug at Danny’s throat jolted him from his thoughts. Clockwork. Clockwork would know what to do. He turned, and without a second glance at Vlad, strode bodily into the Dream.

.

It took Danny even less time than usual to find Clockwork, and, when he did, he immediately found himself at Clockwork’s center, deep within the castle that was his metaphor. Dozens of Chains were fixed to Danny’s collar, each of them completely taut, holding him perfectly immobile, the embrace of a relieved but panicking parent. Clockwork’s emotions, too vast for Danny to fully comprehend, were transmitted directly through those chains, microscopic vibrations raising gooseflesh on Danny’s skin. A wordless noise both distressed and pleased wound its way from Danny’s throat, continuing to echo long after he’d run out of the breath to maintain it.

Clockwork’s avatar cupped Danny’s face in its hands, long fingers almost completely encircling his head. There was more of Clockwork in it that there usually was.

“Clockwork…?” asked Danny, weakly, confused and overwhelmed by the sudden flood of affection.

Poor little one, whispered the avatar, this is what happens when matters are not properly attended to. The Vultures should know better, should take care of him properly… It pressed its forehead to Danny’s, startling a squeak from him.

Danny, reflexively, brought his hands up to clutch at the avatar’s robes.

My poor child. What are they thinking, letting him run around so ill, so that he might infect other children?

Clockwork saw Vlad as a child, too. Not surprising, considering how ancient Clockwork must be, but good to know.

That emotion! It was only a shadow, and even so-!

“Emotion?”

Hatred, hissed Clockwork’s avatar.

The collar around Danny’s neck constricted, a tighter, more Loving, more comforting, hug. Danny gasped, although breathing here was psychological rather than physiological. The cloth of the avatar’s robes began to wind up Danny’s arms.

Even the pale, human shadow of it is not something you should experience, my child.

Danny didn’t like being that angry, but—

Even the concept of it is too much, too heavy. You should not have to bear it. I should not have overlooked it. The avatar’s hands moved to the back of Danny’s head, pressing his face against its shoulder. It must hurt you so,murmured the avatar, carding fingers through Danny’s hair. Fear not. I will excise it. All of it, even the idea of it shall not touch you, shall not sully your thoughts.

The avatar stepped away.

“Wait!” shouted Danny, panicking.

Not being able to hate? Danny had mixed feelings about that, but he doubted he’d be able to talk Clockwork out of it, not with how damaging Hate could be. In the end, it wouldn’t be that much of a loss. Not being able to understand that it existed? Not being aware of hate at all? Being unable to understand that, sometimes, people would go out of their way to hurt one another?

That was dangerous. That would render him unable to even begin to comprehend vast swathes of human history and humanity.

“If I don’t know what it is,” said Danny, “if I don’t know that it exists, how can I protect myself against it?”

A gust of wind blew through Clockwork’s sepulchral hall like the sigh of a giant. It is my duty to protect you, my child.

The sheer possessiveness of the words lingered on Danny’s skin. He wanted to lean into them but held his imaginary breath.

But very well.

Danny let himself relax, slightly, even as the avatar walked to somewhere he couldn’t see, its silent footsteps giving him no clue as to where it was. With only the constant, regular hum and tick of Clockwork’s gears to stimulate him, it was hard for Danny to stay vigilant. He found himself drifting, his thoughts wandering.

Did his hatred of Vlad cause him pain, as Clockwork said? What was it going to be like, to not be able to hate at all, rather than just not being able to Hate? Would he still be angry at Vlad? He hoped so. The man deserved it.

Two points of frigid cold touched the back of his head, contracted into a single point, and pulled. Danny felt something within him come free, and he sagged as much as the chains would allow him.

The avatar walked back into view, and Danny recoiled from the thing he was carrying, clasped in a long, silver pair of tweezers. “Is that,” started Danny, before he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Was that in me?”

Yes, said Clockwork’s avatar, lowering it into a small, jeweled box. Danny felt relieved as soon as the lid closed on it and he was no longer forced to look at it. At the same time… Fear not, said the avatar. I could never destroy something of you. It will be remade into something more useful.

Danny nodded as much as he could and shuddered. He felt… dirty. Unclean. Just remembering what he’d felt, what he’d thought… It left a deep sense of wrongness.

Come, said Clockwork. I have just the thing for that. You are due for a bath. A cleansing, inside and out.

The metaphor of the chains fell away, leaving just the one, usual, slack one. Danny knew Clockwork could call them back at any time, that, in truth, they had not gone anywhere at all.

“What about Vlad?” he asked, twisting his hands around the hem of his shirt. “And my friends? Can you help them? Please.”

He felt Clockwork examine him appraisingly.

Perhaps the bath can wait for another day.

.

The mirror was a portal, tall and wide as a door, glassy surface gleaming with otherworldly light. The edges were crimped, filigreed, flared. Beyond the reflection, Danny could just make out the suggestion of movement.

It is not real, said the avatar, putting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, but a might-have-been.

“But I can find a way to fix things in there?”

The avatar did not answer. A prickling feeling rose up inside Danny, settling in his stomach. Somehow, this felt similar to when he’d eaten the mirror with the bad future.

It is,confirmed the avatar, briefly nuzzling Danny.

“Why?” asked Danny, just a little horrified.

Is it not satisfying to complete two tasks at once? I told you, back then, that our next task would be to remove those presents that seek to exclude you.

Danny didn’t understand.

You will. Clockwork’s avatar paused, as if thinking. This is what the Vultures should have done for young Vladimir, although they would have accomplished it differently.

“Oh,” said Danny, trying to wrap his head around that.

Clockwork’s avatar nudged him forward. Follow the chain when you are ready to come home.

.

Danny wasn’t connected to anyone in this might-have-been world. It was odd, watching every eye slide off him as if he wasn’t even there. If he wanted to interact with someone directly, he’d have to put a lot of force of will into it.

It was strange. Other than that, everything here seemed perfectly real. Not imaginary at all. The sun shone. People spoke to one another. The grass crunched under his feet.

The University of Wisconsin-Madison lay before him in all its questionable glory.

He’d have to find Vlad and his parents. They had rented a small lab space for their experiments with the Dream and research into the others.

Normally, he’d follow his connection to them to find them, or the disturbance Vlad made in the dream, but neither of those things existed, now. Not yet. Danny didn’t exist yet.

He could just wander, try to seek out questionable lab space, but the university’s campus was large. Normally, he’d ask for directions, but…

Yeah, the no one being able to see or hear him thing really didn’t allow for that.

But there was one other thing he could try to do, one other thing he could try to sense. Their experiments. They should send waves across and through the Dream.

He let his eyes drift closed and walked blind across campus. When he opened them, he was in a lab, watching his parents and Vlad working on a kind of magic circle, inscribed with runes.

A portal, intended to let humans directly access the Dream. A portal that had created Vlad, all because he leaned too close, watched too closely, seen too much, became something else, changed.

Something like anger stirred under his skin. After this, his parents had continued to experiment, continued to try to reach the Dream, to create a weapon against the others, and in doing so both doomed Danny himself and Amity Park by making what amounted to a highway for the others to come to the real world.

But they hadn’t intended to do that, he knew. They’d been trying as best as they could to fix things. Had been trying to defend the world the best they knew, portal or no portal. And speaking of the portal… If others could damage human sanity, if Danny, small and weak and almost-human as he was, could damage human sanity, then how much more could a direct link to the Dream do? Discounting, of course, that normal dreams could lead to the Dream… That connection was more tenuous. Filtered.

His anger was a distraction from what was really bothering him.

These people, they looked like his parents. They were his parents. But… they weren’t. There was no attachment there. Nothing. It was like looking at empty shells. No Love.

It was distressing.

He watched, waiting, making note of the symbols and the placement of the ritual objects and the technological enhancements. There had to be something here that would help explain why Vlad was having such a hard time, while Danny had transitioned to his present existence without much problem.

He leaned over his not-mother’s calculations, then his not-father’s, made note of the differences. Looked at the fire, the knife, and the carved cylinders. Some of them didn’t feel quite right. One of them had been nudged out of alignment by a soda can put down by not-Jack, shifting the circle, making it bigger. Could that be something?

Vlad leaned over to examine the circle, and, at the same time, not-Jack pushed a button on the tape player, which started chanting. Danny could feel the hole boring into reality before the first syllable was finished. They’d made the portal both too well and too poorly.

Danny reached for Vlad and pulled him back, out of the way of the opening portal.

.

Danny may have made a mistake.

He’d saved Vlad from becoming other. In doing so, he’d changed things, altered this entire make-believe world. The way the story was progressing was no longer the same as his own. Which meant that it might be useless for collecting clues for fixing Vlad, Sam, and Tucker. Mostly Sam and Tucker.

(He’d help Vlad if it wouldn’t hurt his friends, he didn’t hate the man, not anymore, didn’t desire his suffering. But his friends were, of course, his main concern.)

But he couldn’t just leave. He’d made note of all the flaws in the portal, but that wasn’t in any way conclusive, wasn’t a guarantee.

And, in the meantime, his not-parents and not-Vlad had continued working on the portal, which they hadn’t shut down, unlike in the proper timeline. Or had it been disrupted by Vlad? He didn’t remember the exact sequence of events. His parents had never been clear.

But the portal was on, it was working, and it was wrong. Everything was wrong. The portal was in a class of things that should-not-be.

Just like Danny, in this world. He… With the portal, and the way things were going, he shouldn’t exist here, the butterfly effect would keep him from being born, and he was becoming painfully aware of that fact. Literally painfully. It was starting to hurt, being here, a throb in the back of his head.

Or was that the portal?

Either way…

(He couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was breaking things just by being here. Everything was going wrong. So many little accidents.)

(Or was that the portal?)

He kept watching.

It had been… a while, now. It was easy to lose track of time like this, with no one to talk to. Days? Maybe? He’d been drifting, which should have been troubling.

Maybe he should go back. Cut losses.

(Besides, it was disturbing watching his parents flirting with each other. And Vlad. Even if they weren’t really themselves.)

Then his parents wheeled in a… What was that? He walked closer. This was about the same size around as the pillars that had done this to him.

Danny would never forget those, after all.

Something hummed inside him, picking up a kind of resonance between the active portal and the pillar.

The ground fragmented beneath his feet.

Reality followed soon after.

.

He found himself nowhere with nothing. Only nowhere and nothing.

Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.

What had he done? He’d, he’d destroyed a world, he’d—

There was a gentle, but insistent tug on his chain. He followed it home.

.

He clung to Clockwork’s avatar, gasping, as if he was the only real thing in the world. His emotions were too much, too great, uncontained and roiling. They battered him like a stormy sea.

It’s alright, it’s alright, comforted the avatar. It wasn’t real, and now it never will be. All those worlds where you would not be. All gone.

No. No. No. Horror buzzed in his brain. He couldn’t have destroyed so much.

Never were,continued the avatar, Clockwork apparently oblivious. All disproven. Paradox. You could not be and yet you were. You were in the places you were not. So, now you exist, in all these places, in everywhere that could be, and always will. It stroked Danny, brushing away tears. Only one more to go, until you never were not, my beloved child, until you always were mine, as you were meant to be.

Danny keened into the robes of Clockwork’s avatar, distraught. Wind ruffled his hair.

Considering the point in time in which you were placed, said the avatar, Vladimir will be well again.

Danny looked up, hopeful for the first time in hours.

Mostly. The underlying cause has been removed. You should bring the rest to your… progenitors. They are at least competent in this area.

Danny nodded vigorously and attempted to extract himself from the avatar’s grasp. He was unsuccessful, although the avatar did adjust its grip on him.

You have had a difficult day, it observed. It then presented Danny with a cookie.

Confused, Danny took it.

A gift, said the avatar, Clockwork having evidently returned to his normal laconic mode.

“What’s it made of?” asked Danny, suspicious.

Love. What else?

.

“How do you feel?” asked Danny.

“Weird,” said Sam. “But okay.”

“What was it like?”

Sam shrugged. “It was like…” She waved her hand. “Watching a thousand different movies of my life, but they were all wrong. Like if they were crappy biopics done fifty years after I died or something.”

“Speak for yourself,” grunted Tucker. “I just got a lot of sand. So, so much sand. And sun. Do I have a sunburn?”

“No?” said Danny. “You look fine.”

“Ugh, I forgot you were white. You don’t know what sunburns look like.”

“I’d argue,” said Sam, “but you’re not wrong.” She fell back against her pillows. “I just want to sleep.”

“Same,” said Tucker. “I never want to see the sun again.”

“We’ll make a goth of you yet,” joked Sam, tossing a pillow at him.

“Okay,” said Danny, backing away. “Should I get the lights?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Sleep well,” he said. He hoped they would.

(Because he would not.)

[brooklynmuseum]

Closing out National Poetry Month, our Spring Interns paired some of their favorite poems with works from our collection. We hope you enjoy!

— Jeffrey Alexander Lopez, Curatorial Intern, American Art & Arts of the Americas

Image: Suzuki Harunobu (Japanese, 1724-1770). Page From Haru no Nishiki, 1771. Color woodblock print on paper. Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Peter P. Pessutti, 83.190.1

from Citizen: “Some years there exists a wanting to escape...” [Excerpt] By Claudia Rankine 

/

I they he she we you turn only to discover the encounter

to be alien to this place.

Wait.

The patience is in the living. Time opens out to you.

The opening, between you and you, occupied, zoned for an encounter,

given the histories of you and you—

And always, who is this you?

The start of you, each day, a presence already—

Hey you—

/

— Halle Smith, Digital Collections Intern Catherine Green (American, born 1952). [Untitled] (West Indian Day Parade), 1991. Chromogenic photograph, sheet. Brooklyn Museum, Gift of the artist, 1991.58.2. © artist or artist's estate 

Ode to Enchanted Light by Pablo Neruda

Under the trees light has dropped from the top of the sky, light like a green latticework of branches, shining on every leaf, drifting down like clean white sand.

A cicada sends its sawing song high into the empty air.

The world is a glass overflowing with water.

Consuelo Kanaga’s black and white photograph captures a dazzling, yet fleeting moment from everyday life. Three textured glasses cast shadows whose patterns are almost kaleidoscopic in effect. We can imagine Kanaga passing by her kitchen table, as she is brought to a halt to take a closer look at, and ultimately to photograph, the simple beauty generated by the play of light and everyday objects. The close-up scale of this image emulates the singularizing framing techniques deployed by Surrealist photographers, who also took parts of everyday life and blew them up in the photographic frame, thereby encouraging their viewers to look at life around us from a different angle. It is a way of saying: Here, take a closer look. Viewing the world with wonder, along with the joy that this act brings, are encapsulated in Pablo Neruda’s poem Ode to Enchanted Light. The speaker observes the way light passes through trees and creates enchanting patterns. He not only observes, but feels the beauty in the simple details of life, from the way light falls from the sky, to the sheen of leaves, to the buzzing of cicadas. Approaching life through such a hopeful lens evokes a glass-half-full perspective. In fact, the speaker is so hopeful that he believes “The world is/a glass overflowing/with water.” I think Kanaga would have felt the same way. 

— Kirk Testa, Curatorial Intern, Photography Consuelo Kanaga (American, 1894-1978). [Untitled] (Glasses and Reflections). Gelatin silver photograph. Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Wallace B. Putnam from the Estate of Consuelo Kanaga, 82.65.25

Easter Wings By George Herbert

Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store,

      Though foolishly he lost the same,

            Decaying more and more,

                  Till he became

                        Most poore:

                        With thee

                  O let me rise

            As larks, harmoniously,

      And sing this day thy victories:

Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

My tender age in sorrow did beginne

      And still with sicknesses and shame.

            Thou didst so punish sinne,

                  That I became

                        Most thinne.

                        With thee

                  Let me combine,

            And feel thy victorie:

         For, if I imp my wing on thine,

Affliction shall advance the flight in me.

Easter Wings by George Herbet and Martin Bach’s flower vase from the Brooklyn Museum’s Decorative Arts collection reveal the interrelationship between form and function. In Easter Wings, Herbert strategically varies the line length to create an image that enhances the meaning of the poem; when you turn the poem on its side, it resembles the wings of a bird, of which are symbolic of the atonement of Jesus Christ. In doing so, the author is not only telling us his message, but he is showing it visually as well. Similarly, the vase takes the visual form of its function. Its floral design amplifies the meaning of the object, as the vase is meant to hold flowers. In both instances, we see how aesthetic properties of a work echo the meaning and function of the work itself.

— Amy Zavecz Martin Bach (American, 1862-1921). Vase, ca. 1905. Opalescent glass. Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Mrs. Alfred Zoebisch, 59.143.16. Creative Commons-BY 

I am the Earth (Watashi wa chikyu) [Excerpt] by Kiyoko Nagase, Translated by Takako Lento

I am warm, moist soil  I am a single supple stalk  I draw my life  all the way up into corollas of wild berries on the roadside 

I am amazed at  a breast of water welling  to flow into the inlet of a muddy rice paddy  I am amazed at  myself being  hot steam blowing fire and sulfur up�� from the bottom of the great ocean, deep indigo.  I am amazed at  the crimson blood flow  covering the earth’s surface in human shape;  I am amazed that it swells as the tides ebb and flow, and gushes out monthly under distant invisible gravity … I am the earth.  I live there, and I am the very same earth. 

In the four billionth year  I have come to know  the eternal cold moon, my other self, my hetero being,  then, for the first time, I am amazed that I am warm mud.

The vivid imagery conjured up by Kiyoko Nagase’s poem is beautifully visualized by Emmi Whitehorse’s painting. The emphasis on deep Earth tones and abstract corporeality in both the poem and the painting really creates an intense metaphysical link between the environment and the self.

— Amanda Raquel Dorval, Archives Intern Emmi Whitehorse (Navajo, born 1957). Fire Weed, 1998. Chalk, graphite, pastel and oil on paper mounted on canvas. Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Hinrich Peiper and Dorothee Peiper-Riegraf in honor of Emmi Whitehorse, 2006.49. © artist or artist's estate

Seventh Circle of Earth by Ocean Vuong

On April 27, 2011, a gay couple, Michael Humphrey and Clayton Capshaw, was murdered by immolation in their home in Dallas, Texas.

Dallas Voice

                                          1

2

                                              3

                                       4

                                               5

     6

                                                                                            7

________________________________________________________

As if my finger, / tracing your collarbone / behind closed doors, / was enough / to erase myself. To forget / we built this house knowing / it won’t last. How / does anyone stop / regret / without cutting / off his hands? / Another torch

streams through / the kitchen window, / another errant dove. / It’s funny. I always knew / I’d be warmest beside / my man. / But don’t laugh. Understand me / when I say I burn best / when crowned / with your scent: that earth-sweat / & Old Spice I seek out each night / the days

refuse me. / Our faces blackening / in the photographs along the wall. / Don’t laugh. Just tell me the story / again, / of the sparrows who flew from falling Rome, / their blazed wings. / How ruin nested inside each thimbled throat / & made it sing

until the notes threaded to this / smoke rising / from your nostrils. Speak— / until your voice is nothing / but the crackle / of charred

bones. But don’t laugh / when these walls collapse / & only sparks / not sparrows / fly out. / When they come / to sift through these cinders—& pluck my tongue, / this fisted rose, / charcoaled & choked / from your gone

mouth. / Each black petal / blasted / with what’s left / of our laughter. / Laughter ashed / to air / to honey to baby / darling, / look. Look how happy we are / to be no one / & still

American.

Ocean Vuong’s “Seventh Circle of Earth” has persisted as one of the great, affective moments of poetry in my life since I first heard Pádraig Ó Toama’s gorgeous reading and discussion of it on his podcast, Poetry Unbound. I decided to pair Vuong’s poem with Mary Coble’s Untitled 2 (from Note To Self) because both works are urgently immersive into the violence and experience of LGBTQ people in the U.S., and for how each work uses text and physicality to address presence, pain, and erasure. Vuong’s poem is actually footnoted to a quote from a news article about a gay couple murdered in Texas. The page is thus blank, absent of text. The reader has to sink below the main stage, the accepted space of word and story, to find the voices of this couple and the depth of their story’s tenderness, eroticism, and utter devastation. Coble’s piece foils the structure and effect of Seventh Circle of Earth by taking what was subverted by Vuong—text and the narrative of violence—wholly to the surface. Her photograph captures her own legs tattooed without ink with the names of LGBTQ individuals victimized by hate crimes. I cannot help but think of Franz Kafka’s short story “In the Penal Colony,” in which prisoners’ “sentences'' are inscribed by the needle of a “punishment apparatus” directly onto their bodies. I was struck by how the curator’s note for this photograph describes Coble’s artistic endeavor here as “harrowing.” The needle in Kafka’s short story is indeed called “The Harrow”. The noun harrow is an agricultural tool that combs plowed soil to break up clumps of earth and uproot weeds and clear imperfections. The verb to harrow means to plague, and in the story’s original German the verb for “harrow”, eggen,  is also translated as “to torment”. Kafka and Coble conflate these definitions of “the harrow” in their respective works: they use a needled device, like the true noun definition, as an instrument of torment because of someone else’s idea of punishment and justice. Here, violence is brought to the surface, intimate in as much as we are brought right up to the artist’s skin and into the presence of her and her community’s pain. Together, one can see how each creator physicalizes their respective artistic space to tell the stories of LGBTQ people, of what is tender and harrowing, below the surface and written into the skin. 

— Talia Abrahams, Provenance Intern, IHCPP Mary Coble (American, born 1978). Untitled 2 (from Note to Self), 2005. Inkjet print. Brooklyn Museum, Gift of the artist, 2008.10. © artist or artist's estate 

To my daughter Kakuya   by Assata Shakur  

I have shabby dreams for you   of some vague freedom   I have never known.   Baby   I don't want you hungry or thirsty   or out in the cold.   and I don't want the frost   to kill your fruit   before it ripens.   I can see a sunny place  Life exploding green.   I can see your bright, bronze skin at ease with all the flowers   and the centipedes.   I can hear laughter,   not grown from ridicule   And words not prompted   by ego or greed or jealousy.   I see a world where hatred   has been replaced by love.   and ME replaced by WE   And I can see a world replaced                                       where you,   building and exploring,   strong and fulfilled,   will understand.   And go beyond my little shabby dreams. 

This poem is featured in Assata Shakur’s memoir, Assata: An Autobiography. It details her hope for a better world that  her daughter can grow up in. This poem is positioned in the book when Shakur is facing increasing prosecution as a result of her  activism and affiliations with the Black Panther Party and Black Liberation army. Being written more than 30 years after this picture  was taken, the poem summons me to think about the trauma that many Black women face and how much of that trauma gets passed  down to their children. The black and white photo of a mother and daughter provides a nice visual to the poem. “The image of a Black  mother and child sitting on their luggage reflects the little-discussed history of segregated transportation in the northern United States. Through the 1940s, Penn Station officials assigned Black travelers seats in Jim Crow cars on southbound trains” (Brooklyn Museum). The photograph of train passengers waiting outside of Manhattan’s Pennsylvania Station especially echoes the verse “I don’t want you  hungry or thirsty or out in the cold.” The overall optimistic tone of Shakur’s poem alters our relationship to the image as we imagine  the mother pictured above hoping for the exact same things

— Zaria W, Teen Programs intern Ruth Orkin (American, 1921-1985). Mother and Daughter at Penn Station, NYC, 1948. Gelatin silver photograph, sheet: 13 15/16 × 11 in. (35.4 × 27.9 cm). Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Mary Engel, 2011.22.3. © artist or artist's estate

Crunch.  By Kailyn Gibson 

I retch as a mass of sinew lies between my lips.  The sensation is unbearable.  Fortunately, the jar of flies has gone missing again. 

Slowly, surely, and yet never sure at all,  the quiet of buzzing rings through the in-between. 

It is a symphony wrought from blood and bone. 

Saliva drips from bleeding, hungry gums,  And the crunch of glass echoes the grinding of molars.

If I proffered a sanguine smile, would masticated shards look like teeth?  Would they gleam just as prettily?  

The flies ring,  and the rot calls. 

— Kailyn Gibson Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917). Portrait of a Man (Portrait d'homme), ca. 1866. Oil on canvas. Brooklyn Museum, Museum Collection Fund, 21.112 

Excerpt from Autobiography of Red A novel in verse by Anne Carson

7. If Helen’s reasons arose out of some remark Stesichoros made either it was a strong remark about Helen’s sexual misconduct (not to say its unsavory aftermath the Fall of Troy) or it was not.

8. If it was a strong remark about Helen’s sexual misconduct (not to say its unsavory aftermath the Fall of Troy) either this remark was a lie or it was not.

9. If it was not a lie either we are now in reverse and by continuing to reason in this way we are likely to arrive back at the beginning of the question of the blinding of Stesichoros or we are not.

10. If we are now in reverse and by continuing to reason in this way are likely to arrive back at the beginning of the question of the blinding of Stesichoros either we will go along without incident or we will meet Stesichoros on our way back.

11. If we meet Stesichoros on our way back either we will keep quiet or we will look him in the eye and ask him what he thinks of Helen.

12. If we look Stesichoros in the eye and ask him what he thinks of Helen either he will tell the truth or he will lie.

13. If Stesichoros lies either we will know at once that he is lying or we will be fooled because now that we are in reverse the whole landscape looks inside out.

This excerpt comes from Appendix C of Anne Carson’s Autobiography of Red, a novel in verse. A translator and classicist herself, Carson mixes fact with fiction in her unconventional retelling of the myth of Geryon and Hercules, beginning with a roundabout introduction to the poet Stesichoros. Autobiography presents a captivating example of recent Queer projects that take up Classical material as their basis. A fascination with the Classical past has pervaded our modern conception of sexual identity politics, down to the very etymology of the word “lesbian.” In this fascination, I see the same desire to capture Classical imagery as cultural heritage which has also pervaded American museums, albeit with significantly different aims. The fresco pictured above comes to mind, which passed through many collectors and was even purchased by the museum before anyone pegged it as a modern piece—not an original Roman fresco. John D. Cooney, a 20th century curator of our Egyptian, Classical, and Ancient Near Eastern Art collection, wrote that “the unclad and somewhat winsome charms of the lady [probably] diverted objective glances.” Both in the case of the fresco and Carson’s novel, the “unclad and somewhat winsome charms” of the Classical past shape and reshape our understanding of history.

— Kira Houston, Curatorial Intern, Egyptian, Classical, and Ancient Near Eastern Art Modern, in the style of the Roman Period. Part of a Fresco, early 19th century C.E. Clay, paint. Brooklyn Museum, Ella C. Woodward Memorial Fund, 11.30.

Late Fragment by Raymond Carver From A New Path to the Waterfall, Atlantic Monthly Press, 1989.

And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so? I did. And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.

— Shori Diedrick Brackens (American, born 1989). when no softness came, 2019. Cotton and acrylic yarn. Brooklyn Museum, Purchased with funds given by The LIFEWTR Fund at Frieze New York 2019, 2019.12. © artist or artist's estate

Jaguar By Francisco X. Alarcón

some say                                    dicen que ahora                  I'm now almost                           estoy casi extinto       extinct in this park                      por este parque    but the people                            pero la gente who say this                               que dice esto don't know                                 no sabe that by smelling                          que al oler   the orchids                                 las orquídeas in the trees                                 en los árboles they're sensing                          están percibiendo  the fragrance                             la fragancia of my chops                              de mis fauces  that by hearing                          que al oír the rumblingc                            el retumbo of the waterfalls                        de los saltos  

they're listening                         están escuchando          to my ancestors'                       el gran rugido   great roar                                  de mis ancestros

that by observing                      que al observar     the constellations                      las constelanciones     of the night sky                         del firmamento 

they're gazing                           están mirando at the star spots                       las motas de estrellas    on my fur                                  marcadas en mi piel that I am and                            que yo soy always will be                           y siempre seré the wild                                     el indomable

untamed                                  espíritu silvestre living spirit                               vivo de esta of this jungle                            jungla

While the author of the poem speaks about animals, their words can also speak on behalf of the erasure of indigenous peoples in South America. Much like the jaguar, indigenous traditions and culture are very important to life in South America. Despite their marginalization, Indigenous peoples throughout the Andes used coca leaves to help with the altitude. The use and cultivation of coca are criminalized throughout most of South America despite it being essential to indigenous cultures. This vessel was used to contain lime which would activate the coca leaves.  Much like the jaguar, indigenous traditions are also faced with endangerment despite being woven into the fabric that is Latin America. Through the opposite man and woman figures, the vessel shows the duality that is important to the Quimbaya people which is still relevant to Colombians today.

Aunque el autor del poema habla sobre los animales, sus palabras también comunican el sentimiento común de la supresión de los indígenas en Suramérica. Con la mención del jaguar, se puede entender en el poema que la cultura y las tradiciones de las personas que son indígenas son sumamente importantes para la vida en Sudamérica. A pesar de su marginación, los indígenas en Los Andes utilizan la hoja de coca para ayudar en la altura de las montañas. El uso y el cultivo de la hoja de coca fue criminalizado (penalizado) a través de Sudamérica, aunque su uso para los indígenas era vital y esencial para su cultura. Este recipiente que se utiliza contiene limón lo que activa la hoja de la coca. Similarmente al jaguar, las tradiciones de los indígenas siempre estaban en peligro aunque estuvieran entrelazadas en las telas de lo que sería Latinoamérica. A través del hombre opuesto y las figuras de mujeres, el recipiente muestra la dualidad de lo que es importante para las personas que son Quimbaya, algo que todavía hoy es relevante para los Colombianos.

— Jeffrey Alexander Lopez, Curatorial Intern, American Art & Arts of the Americas Quimbaya. Poporo (Lime Container), 1-600 C.E. Tumbaga. Brooklyn Museum, Alfred W. Jenkins Fund, 35.507. Creative Commons-BY 

[batsandbugs]

Bats Bugs and Boomerangs Chapter 1

A/N: Hey everyone, coming at you with another series! This is actually for a late secret santa gift exchange! My recipient was @m3owww​! Her fandoms were Maribat and Avatar the Last Airbender, so I thought: Why not both? She already had a Maribat characters in the show type fic, so I created a fic where they watched the show. It slowly spiraled out of control though, so this is Chapter 1. I’ll eventually have the batfam (and Marinette) react to the whole series, so comment here and on ao3 what you want to see. So Phi, this is kinda like the gift that will keep on giving? Maybe? I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy! 

Our story begins on a frosty winter evening, outside Gotham at Wayne Manor. Marinette sat in the library working on an assignment for her History of Fashion class. She was alone, because Damian, Dick, Tim, and Bruce were out on patrol, with Barbara on comms. Tikki, unless eating or involved with a transformation, spent her time sleeping due to the freezing weather. While the other Kwami either resided in the box or roamed the grounds, and generally stayed out of the human's way.

Marinette gazed out the window, snow falling softly through the air, covering the ground and the tree branches. A crackling fire warmed the room. She shifted, and a painful ache shot through her leg. Marinette glared at the offending appendage, which was the reason she wasn’t out with the team tonight.

Her Miraculous could cure any injury sustained on the battlefield, it didn’t help her one bit when it came to her own natural clumsiness. She hadn’t paid attention as she’d walked out of class one evening. The dim lighting hid a black ice patch and she slipped and fell. Thankfully, her ankle was only sprained and not broken, but she would be out of commission for at least two weeks. Probably more if Alfred got his way.

Speaking of the elderly butler, he strode into the room carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

“Good evening Miss. Marinette. Need another refreshment?”

She sighed at the cold coffee dregs in her mug. “That would be nice, thank you, Alfred.”

He hummed, grabbing a teacup, and pouring her a serving. “How does your leg feel today? I notice you were leaning heavily on Master Damian after supper.” He handed the cup to her and the warmth was a welcome sensation for her chilled hands.

“Yeah, he’s been nice helping me around.” Nice was a misnomer, more like extremely overprotective. He point-blank refused for her to stay at her own apartment, mostly due to its location on the fourth floor with no elevator access. He all but forced her to watch him pack her essentials to bring to the manor while she recovered. Since then, his attentiveness in ensuring she had what she needed within reach and helping her to class had grown. It was a tad smothering considering his usual aloofness, but she enjoyed his actions for the affection it implied.

“It’s throbbing and hot and feels worse than it did three days ago.” She took a tiny sip of the tea and relaxed into its spiced aroma. Alfred made the best tea.  

He nodded. “It will feel uncomfortable for a while until it starts to mend. Just continue to rest and remain off it and you will be back to carousing around the city like the rest of them in no time.” He poured his own tea and seated himself in the plush armchair across from her spot on the couch.

“Oh, Alfred you say that as if you would not be right there along with us if age allowed,” said Marinette with a grin. The stories Dusu could recount about the elderly miraculous holder were nothing short of entertaining, and she knew damn well Alfred had the same need for action as the rest of the Waynes and their assorted allies.  

“I’d do nothing of the sort,” he said primly, taking a sip of his tea to hide the tiny smirk on his face. Marinette couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant silence. Despite the pain in her leg Marinette pushed through it and finished her assignment, while Alfred read until it neared time when patrol ended. He bustled up the remains of the tea and promise her a fresh cup when he finished seeing everyone arrive safely.

Later, although she could not say how long, she was buried deep in a book and didn’t notice when Damian entered the room until he sat next to her on the couch.

“Good evening angel.” His hair flopped in his eyes, loose and damp from the shower. In his hands, he held a tray with two cups of steaming tea.

“Thanks.” She took the proffered cup of tea with a smile. “How was patrol?”

“Boring,” he sighed. “You certainly are not missing anything.” If he wouldn’t have taken offense to it, Marinette would have described the look on his face as a pout.

“What about the drug seller Tim tracked to the lower docks?”

Damian shrugged. “Gone silent after we busted the last shipment. Seventeen years in and maybe the criminals finally figured out committing crimes in the same city as a relentless vigilante team is a bad idea,” he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Marinette couldn’t stop herself from giggling. It was a common joke among the family that Gotham’s criminals never learned.

“I think it means we’re doing our job right,” said Tim walking in with a steaming mug. Marinette opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Don’t worry, it’s decaf.”

“Like Pennyworth would let him drink anything else this time of night,” scoffed Damian, while taking a sip of his tea.

“I’m perfectly capable of monitoring my own caffeine intake, thanks,” Tim said in offense, seating himself across from the couch in the reading chair previously abandoned by Alfred.

“No, you’re not,” called a voice from the hallway. Dick walked in with a large mug of what was undoubtedly hot chocolate. “The last time he didn’t check your drink after patrol, you used coffee instead of water to brew another pot, and then added four whole bottles of five-hour energy. You didn’t sleep for three days.”

“I also solved five crimes, figured out where the Penguin was hiding, and streamlined the dropbox submission system for Wayne Industries. Life requires tradeoffs.”

“No that’s just you, ignoring basic human necessities. Anyway, besides Tim’s caffeine addiction, what are we talking about?” asked Dick.

“The reason for the lack of crime,” offered Marinette.

Dick shrugged, “Happens every year because of the weather. Even criminals get cold. They’ll return to their usual transgressions once the weather warms.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Tt. Weak,” muttered Damian.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Not everyone receives extreme weather training under threat of dismemberment, demon brat. We should take the opportunity to enjoy the break.”

“Tim, your version of a “break” involves paperwork,” chided Dick.

“It’s not my fault the rest of you people don’t have lives. I’m a remarkably busy person. And what is this, the-criticize-Tim-hour?”

“Oh, only an hour?” smirked Damian. “I thought it was a continuous event, one could choose to participate in whenever the mood struck. I will have to file all my complaints immediately.”

Tim pouted. “Marinette,” he whined. “Can’t you control him?”

She shrugged, “What do you expect me to do? I’m his girlfriend, not his minder. Besides, they criticize because they care.” She laughed when all three boys snarled their noses at the prospect of feelings.

“Marinette, angel, please; never say that again. I criticize because I am right, and they should know it. Not because of any high-minded ideals such as genuine affection.”

“Okay, okay, enough,” said Dick. “If we have a bit of a break, we should do something! Together, as a family. I think Cass and Steph come back in two days.”

“Grayson, just because your girlfriend is off-world visiting family and you have nothing to do does not mean it holds true for the rest of us.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Tim, “Except not quite, because I don’t have a girlfriend, but I just said I’m busy. R&D is rolling out a new prototype next week, and I have two board meetings scheduled and-”

“Not to mention,” Marinette cut Tim off. He could talk about his schedule forever because he just had that many events. “I can’t move around, what would we even do? Play games?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “The list of games officially banned in our family includes, but is not limited to; Monopoly, Uno, Checkers, Risk, Risk: Legacy, Twister, Jenga, Clue, Guess Who, Poker, Chess, and Go Fish.”

“Oh…” muttered Marinette.

“And that doesn’t even include videogames.”

“After the Wii Bowling incident of 2013, the media room wall was never the same,” Dick said, shaking his head in despair.

“I actually apologized for that, okay?” exclaimed Damian. “Why do you always have to bring it up?”

Marinette fully intended to ask about the incident later. “Okay, so games are out.”

“Ooh,” Dick’s eyes lit up, “How about we call a Family T.V. Event?”

Tim groaned, “The last time we did that we blew up the shed, and got the police called.”

“Well, we won’t watch a crime show.” Dick turned to Marinette. “Jason picked; we watched Breaking Bad.”

“I can see how that would spiral out of control.”

“The time before that, we set fire to the media room and started a familial feud,” Damian pointed out. “Game of Thrones,” he added when Marinette looked to him for clarification.

“Even worse.”

“Okay, fine, so we don’t have the best track record picking shows. But I swear I have a good one this time.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

Tim snorted. “What? Like the kid’s show?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Really Grayson, a cartoon? I know you are developmentally stuck at five, but not all of us are.”

“I’ve never watched it, but I’ve heard good things about it,” said Marinette. She knew there was a French translation of the show, but she preferred to watch media in its original language. Before moving to America, before dating Damian, her English had not been strong enough to confidently watch a show and understand all of it.

“Perfect!” exclaimed Dick. “I know you three and Cass haven’t seen it, and neither has Bruce or Alfred. I would bet Jason’s seen some of it, but I’ll have to check. Barbara and I have, but that’s fine, she loves the show. We’ll have to see about Steph too, but I’m sure she’ll enjoy it regardless. There are awesome characters, battles, suspense, comedy, and it’s not likely going to inspire us to blow up the shed or tear each other to pieces!”

“I have in no way agreed to this Grayson. Drake back me up.”

Tim paused for a moment, stuck between his need to disagree with Damian and the need to get out of Dick’s crazy plan. Unfortunately for Damian, the former won out. “Actually, you know what, a show could be fun. The episodes are what, thirty minutes? Shorter than Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones.”

Damian groaned while Dick responded happily, ignoring his brother’s distress, “Around twenty minutes actually. We could have the whole show finished in about a week or so.”

Damian turned to her, eyes wide and hopeful. “Marinette, please tell me you are on my side?”

She patted her boyfriend’s arm, “Sorry, mon amour, I’m stuck either way. Might as well watch a show.”

Damian flopped against the couch with a pout. “Betrayed. I have been grievously betrayed by my own brothers and girlfriend. What is this world coming to?”

“Woo!” exclaimed Dick, a wide grin splitting his face. “This is going to be great.”

“This is going to be awful,” moaned Damian.

-0-0-

It took a bit of convincing on the part of Dick to get Bruce and Alfred to agree to the venture. Marinette, after learning the full details of the last two Family T.V. Events, was wholly unsurprised. She also did not know the full extent of what Dick did to get Jason to agree (apparently, he and Bruce were fighting, again, so this was expected.) although it probably involved a bribe. But by the week’s end, the entire family was together, all under strict orders (and puppy-dog eyes from Dick) to be on their best behavior.

Which, without a doubt, not a single one of them knew what that entailed.

The arguing started with seating placement, then about who controlled the remote, then over the distribution of snacks, drinks, blankets, and pillows. At one point Jason pulled a knife, which prompted Damian to pull his knife, suddenly Cass had two shurikens visible (where she even kept them while wearing a tank top and shorts, no one could say), and then everyone was yelling with sharp pointy objects in hand.

Once the argument was firmly under control, Alfred collected the weapons and placed them in a wicker basket, along with all the mobile devices, until the episodes for the night were finished. The only one allowed to have a phone was Barbara who was in charge of checking police scanners for any major trouble while the family took the evening off.

Marinette seated herself curled up against Damian on the edge of the couch. She set her foot propped up on an ottoman so it wouldn’t get jostled, and she could continue to ice it throughout the evening. Damian secured their own bowl of popcorn, so they didn’t have to share it with the others.

“Alright, here’s how we’re breaking this down,” announced Dick, who won the battle for the remote, and therefore the episode schedule. “The episodes are short, at least, much shorter than the last show we watched.” He directed a pointed look at Jason.

“I make no apologies.”

“We’ll watch half a season a day, ten episodes apiece. The closed captions will be on but try to keep the chatter to a minimum.” Marinette held back a laugh. Damian explained no one kept quiet during these nights. Watching the show wasn’t the point of these events; if that were the case then they would just watch it all on their own time. The point was the time spent together. This is why even Bruce, emotionally constipated and single-minded in his pursuits as he was, put away the suit for a few days to watch T.V. with the rest of his collected family. Talking was expected.  

“We will, if you will,” called Stephanie.  

“I take offense to that.”

“Aw just sit Dickie, let’s watch the show,” exclaimed Jason.

“Yes, Grayson you already wrapped us into this pointless venture; we might as well get it over with,” Damian grumbled. Marinette found his hand in the folds of their shared blanket and laced her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand, and, when he was sure no one else was looking gave her a small smile. Marinette smiled back, he pretended to be such a grouch, but deep down he was a giant softy at heart.

Dick frowned, saying “Fine, fine, you don’t have to be spoilsports about it.” And pointed the remote at the T.V. starting the first episode.

-0-0-

It didn’t take ten seconds before the commentary began.

“Four elements?” exclaimed Tim.  “Are you serious? I could name at least a dozen off the top of my head. How are there only four nations? 0/10 completely unrealistic. Political infighting alone-”

“Ah, shut up, replacement.”

“Ruthless fire nation?” said Stephanie. “Methinks a little propaganda might be occurring here.”

“A hundred years!? What, has no one competent been born the entire time?”

Marinette shrugged. “The disadvantages of finite magic systems, Dami. It's learned indifference.”

“Honey, after a hundred years that’s not hoping, that’s naivety,” said Stephanie in response to Katara’s impassioned speech.

“She’s right!” exclaimed Dick.

“We know that, but she doesn’t.”

The show moved on to Katara and Sokka in a boat. Sokka held a spear above the water.

“Is he hunting that fish?” growled Damian.

“Ah yeah, I forgot you may hate the entirety of Sokka’s character,” said Dick with a grimace. “Whoops.”

“She’s not very good at the water moving, is she?” asked Marinette

“Waterbending,” Dick and Barbara said in unison.

Sokka chided Katara about her weird water magic. “Oh, he’s not going to be a dick for the whole show, is he?” asked Steph.

“He gets better.”

“They grew up here right?” asked Damian, as Katara and Sokka become caught in a rapid. “How did they not anticipate an event like this.”

“I knew I should have left you at home. Leave it to a girl to screw things up!”

“HEY!” shouted all the women in the room.

They watched as Katara’s fury built and broke the iceberg behind her.

“Good. Use anger, anger is alright,” Cass commented for the first time.

“Okay, you’ve gone from weird, to freakish.”

“This punk is just asking for a beating isn’t he,” growled Jason.

The beam of energy shot into the air after Katara and Sokka broke open the ice. “That’s not going to cause any trouble,” said Tim, rolling his eyes. “Nope, not suspicious or completely conspicuous at all.”

The scene switches to a metal ship.

“Finally! Uncle, do you realize what this means?”

“Oh, look, the bad guys,” deadpanned Tim. “I was right.”

Jason grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it into his mouth “What happened to his fucked-up fa-”

“YOU’LL FIND OUT!”

The scene switched back to Katara and Sokka. The figure is revealed to be a hyperactive little kid.

Damian frowned“Oh, I won’t like him either, will I Grayson?”

Dick tilted his head, “Eh.”

Then Appa is introduced.

“Father, could we-”

“No, Damian.”

They watched the children depart, and the scene moved back to the Fire Nation ship.

“Even if you're right, and the Avatar is alive, you won't find him. Your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all tried and failed.”

“Well considering the Airbender child has been in an iceberg, it’s not surprising they failed.”

“Because their honor didn't hinge on the Avatar's capture. Mine does. This coward's hundred years in hiding are over.”

“Is it just me or does this angry, emo prince remind anyone of demon spawn?”

“Todd, shut your mouth before I remove your tongue.”  

Marinette leaned in close, “Maybe just a little like you.” Damian looked at her with a betrayed pout.

The scene switched and they watched Aang lie to Katara about the Avatar.

“The air child is guilty. Will cause problems later.”

“Narrative Cass, it’s narrative.”

Damian scoffed. “Miscommunication is plot convenience, and it’s a sloppy one at that.”

They watched Aang’s dream of how he ended up in the iceberg, him waking up to Katara and his introduction to the village.

“Well, no one has seen an Airbender in a hundred years. We thought they were extinct until my granddaughter and grandson found you.”

“Extinct?”

“He went into the ice and woke up to find the world different. Anyone getting serious Captain America vibes here?” said Jason, tone-deaf to the clear horror on Aang's face.

“Jason, he just found out his people potentially went extinct!” chided Marinette. 

“It's not for stabbing! It's for air bending.”

“Please tell me the main character is not a pacifist,” begged Damian.

“Well, he is a monk,” said Barbara with a sorry look.

“I sense he's filled with much wisdom,” Katara says as Aang sticks his tongue to his staff and it freezes.

“I switch back and forth between liking this girl and not. One second she’s got gumption, and the next she’s all starry-eyed and naïve,” grumbled Steph.

“I wonder who that reminds me of,” Damian whispered into Marinette’s ear. She felt her cheeks heat up.

"I'm not naive," she shot back. 

He raised a hand with two fingers close but not touching, "You're a little naive." Marinette huffed, but silently admitted to her boyfriend's point. She had a tendency to believe the best in people; she saw it as a strength and appreciated it in this Katara character, but it was so far from how Damian viewed the world, it honestly confused his siblings when they first started dating. 

Damian confided in her that he found it inspiring. She had been through so much, understood the cruelties of others, and still could see the good in people. 

The scene switched to the Fire Nation ship again, and Iroh explained the concept of firebending to an irate Prince Zuko.

“Finally, a display of actual competence,” exclaimed Damian.

“Enough! I've been drilling this sequence all day. Teach me the next set! I'm more than ready!”

“My tutors would have skewered me if I dared to act in such a manner,” he commented again, softer than the first time. More so that only Marinette could hear. Damian’s family was more than aware of his childhood and what it entailed; Marinette slowly learned with comments like this. She squeezed his hand again and received a small smile.

The scene shifted back to the village where Sokka’s failed “warrior lesson” occurred, and then-

“We don't have time for fun and games with the War going on!”

“What war? What are you talking about?”

“Where have you been, frozen in ice for a hundred years?” joked Dick.

They watched Aang offer to take Katara to the North Pole to find a water bending master. The two children go and play with the penguin creatures, but the tone shifted when an old Fire Nation ship appeared on the screen.

“Bad ship” muttered Cass.

“If you want to be a bender, you have to let go of fear.”

“There are so many things wrong with that statement I don’t even know where to start,” said Tim.

They watch Aang and Katara enter the Fire Nation Ship and wander talking about the war.

“Aang, how long were you in that iceberg?”

“I don't know. A few days, maybe?”

“I think it was more like a hundred years!”

“Are you kidding me?” yelled Jason. “How are they just figuring this out now?”

On-screen Aang stepped on the line of wire, tripping the traps.

“Tt. Amateurs.”

"See, she told him it would be a bad idea!"

A flare rises through the air.

“That’s not going to cause any-”

“Oh, shut up Tim.”

The Fire Prince once again appeared on the screen.

“The last Airbender!”

“I was right,” he mumbled.

The screen faded to the credits, and Dick turned to the group.

“So? What do you think?”

“Slow.”

“Nobody has any sense.”

“Are any of the characters actually likable?”

He frowned. “Okay, okay, so the first episode isn’t the best. I swear it gets better. Back me up here Barb.”

Barbara nodded. “He’s right, it takes a few episodes to build the characters up and we see some genuine action. But by mid-season, I swear you’ll be hooked. And then we’ll get to season two and the best characters will arrive.”

“Hey,” Dick exclaimed, pointing a finger at her. “No spoilers.”

“I thought it was fun,” Marinette offered. “It’s very clearly a kid’s show, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” She wasn’t going to say each and every person in the room had childhood traumas, and a show full of lighthearted fun was probably just what they needed. She could think it, but she wouldn’t say it.   

“Thank you, Marinette,” said Dick with a smile.

“I rather enjoyed the elderly tea drinker,” intoned Alfred. “He’s more than he appears to be.”

“Uncle Iroh? Yeah, he’s the best!” commented Barbara. "But everyone is great." 

“Alright, episode one finished, nine more to go.”

“Let’s hope it’s more enjoyable than the last,” uttered Damian, a chorus of agreement followed his statement, but when the show started up everyone grew quiet again.

Marinette was sure whatever happened next, it was bound to be interesting.

Tag List (Although it is on ao3 too) 

@m3owww​ @your-resident-chimken-nuggie​  @loveswifi​ @fusser90​@animegirlweeb​​ @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere​​

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

it’s a fucking metaphor!

Titans 3.08

i’ve finally gathered the mental and emotional resources to do this thing, so let’s go! as always, i’m typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. on watching this opening scene, i was thinking back to how gar was in s1, or even the early bits of s2. the way he idolised the others, particularly dick, and his readiness to go along with whatever they said, and the way he practically bled the need for acceptance. and here he is now, openly defying dick, fully open to and aware of the flaws of the people he loves and admires, knowing he is accepted no matter what and extending that generosity elsewhere. it’s a remarkable bit of character growth that’s... sort of blossomed in the background and so rewarding to see and acknowledge. 

1.25. i guess what i really love about this conflict over how to respond to jason--as clumsily as it is sometimes written--is how their histories and individual traumas inform each character’s reaction. dick is torn between his guilt over what’s become of jason and his drive to do what batman had essentially given up on doing: he is motivated to track down red hood at all costs but there’s a sense that he’s not completely sold on the idea that the only way to stop him is to kill him. (he might go the comics route and try to put him in arkham? god, imagine if the season ended with jason in arkham.) kory’s never had much of a connection with jason in the first place, and jason has done one of the worst things he could do in her book: track and kill a member of her newfound family and is threatening to kill more. 

and gar... sure. look. the idea of jason and red hood as separate entities appeals to him; that red hood emerged when jason was drugged to the gills by scarecrow and lost his usual inhibitions. gar’s struggled with what he becomes when he’s pushed to his limits, too--he did rip open that experimenting scientist with his teeth way back in 1.07, after all, and he was brainwashed by cadmus in s2 into becoming a literal monster. he needs to think, to know, there’s a dichotomy, a line that can only be crossed under extreme duress or by outside influence. 

and he says--and we say--that he was accepted back into the titans in spite of what he’d done, but was he really? gar’s always struggled with his footing in this group; relegated to the caretaker, the tech guy, the gatekeeper, and sometimes punching bag even though everybody’s paying lip service to how much of a family they all are. perhaps gar reaching out to jason and offering acceptance is aspirational on his part: perhaps this is the effort he hoped the titans put/or will put into getting gar back, even when it would seem like he’s too far gone.

1.5. anyway my point is that i don’t think it’s worth discussing this in terms of right/wrong decisions because all of their reactions make a lot of sense given their backgrounds/personalities. gar is doing a fine job here of tracking down jason’s friends and trying to find him that way, but we the audience know that jason is ultimately going to end up an anti-hero/eventually-hero character, so with that knowledge in mind we know that gar’s reaction is the right one. it’s knowledge that the other characters don’t have, so to judge them on it is... uh, unfair.

1.8. also, molly is awesome, yay!

2. dick and barbara flirting over the phone is so cute! i love to see this side of dick: lighter, peppier, willing (even if somewhat reluctantly) to put his mission aside to go out on a date with his girlfriend. and i love how easy this makes his dynamic with kory too: it’s all very domestic and utterly delightful. 

(also, re: the water leak in barbara’s office--you’re saying GCPD could afford fancy-schmancy table-wide touch screen computers and evil-lair lighting but needs its frickin’ commissioner to catch leaking water from above her desk with mugs and fishbowls????)

2.2225. this is probably a teeny tiny thing and i’m not sure i want to bring it up at all BUT. the fact that dick feels compelled to lie to barbara about not liking fancy gala food and eating something more substantial before the date? not a terribly great sign, though i wouldn’t call it a red flag per se. 

“this from a man who forced his students to eat cauliflower crust pizza...”

3. so.... conner and kom are a Thing. huh.

in theory i really like the idea of them bonding over an innate alien-ness and longing for a place they could really belong. both of them are alien twice-over: conner a mix of kryptonian and human, practically generated in a test tube, and kom being somebody that was born different and rejected by her own people, now stuck on a planet dominated by an entirely different species. i even like them exploring this bond physically. i guess it’s the sense of... uneasiness around what we do and don’t know about kom that makes this scene land slightly left of centre to me. i think titans, especially through s2, has cultivated in its audience a sense of distrust even until the final episode, just in case somebody vital to the season is suddenly revealed to have had ulterior motives (i’m even low-key suspicious of leslie). i really want to see this kom-conner dynamic play out but the anticipation of watching the other shoe drop is sucking out the enjoyment.

4. for fuck’s sake dick, gar’s not your gatekeeper.

TIIIIIIIIMMMMM \O/

4.5. i love this nod to tim’s origins in the comics, the way he just comes in and lays out all his evidence and makes it clear to dick that he needs tim’s help as robin. the fact that he was there at the flying graysons’ last performance, he was obsessed with their acrobatic moves, and was observant enough to connect those moves with that of robin and later nightwing... all of this came together to put him where he is right now.

(i also love how he can’t contain his giddy excitement when talking about the day dick grayson’s parents died... to dick grayson. even if dick weren’t nightwing, that would be a deeply uncomfortable thing! yet tim can’t help himself, and i love him for it.)

4.8. it’s a testament to how much dick’s caught off-guard that he can’t come up with a better response to tim’s allegations other than “uh... he stole my moves! as you know, no two gymnasts in the world are allowed to do the same moves. now, let me escort you out while pretending poorly that i’m not at all shaken by this...”

4.9. i’ve talked about this before, but i find the logic around secret identities in this universe utterly fascinating. the titans don’t make much effort in keeping their identities secret: everybody seems to know that kory is starfire for instance, or that gar is beast boy. dick grayson is seen hanging out with kory a lot, especially at crime scenes. it won’t take a lot of sleuthing to find out that the titans are currently camped out at wayne manor, and to put two and two together.

my theory was that superheroes and villains have become such an integral part of daily society that it’s almost not worth it to seek out their secret identities, or that it’s just not a big deal anymore. like politicians or diplomats, not everybody bothers to look into who exactly their local politician is, but the people who know just... know. it’s a sort of unspoken social contract.

tim’s broken this contract by confronting dick about his identity, and dick’s not ready to deal with it. not entirely.

look at him! *pinches his cheeks*

5. ngl, it was quite satisfying to see jason knock the scarecrow out like that. 

5.5. i guess... the question of jason’s culpability is always going to be a thorny one and would make for a great courtroom drama spinoff. there are a number of factors to consider: jason’s personality, the rough circumstances under which he grew up, his undoubtedly stressful transition to being robin, bruce wayne being... well, bruce wayne, never feeling accepted by the titans and having most of them turn on him, being roundly defeated and almost killed by deathstroke, alfred’s death, a fuckload of ptsd, his violent death, crane’s manipulations, coming back to life, crane plying him with a drug. but there is no easy line to draw between any of these factors to his actions. i think it would be a disservice to jason’s character to attribute his actions entirely to these things and rather irresponsible to do so. i think jason has to reckon with the fact that when he took crane’s drug, he wasn’t reckless and chaotic like the thugs he gave it to; the planning that went into hank’s death was meticulous and the way hank died--dawn essentially tricked into pulling the trigger that blew her lover into bits--is so drawn out and cruel. 

5.75. it’s occurring to me that crane might have given jason a placebo. maybe jason’s dependence is psychological, and he’s externalised his fears in such a way that he believes crane’s drugs literally wipe them out, however temporarily.

in any case, the boy needs (more) therapy.

6. “he walked like robin...” fuck, tim

“gait recognition sweep” god, this show. i don’t know whether to laugh or cry. hey, once we’re done doing this gait recognition thingy, can we get a goddamn plumber in the house??? or move the commissioner’s desk so that sewage water isn’t dripping on her head or the million dollar touchscreen desk???????

6.5. oh no dick!!!!!! i am delighted that you got hurt but i feel ashamed about it! that looked like it really hurt!

he’s really not having a good time of it, is he. from being shot by a sniper to slamming at full speed into an suv, he’s got to be really fucking battered by now. and that’s just the physical side of it.

“can you believe that just over a week ago i was sitting in san francisco eating cauliflower crust pizza and feeling good about myself for the first time in five years...”

7. kory’s having visions again! now that she’s figured what they are, do you think the show’s just dropped justin? it’s curious that HPG hasn’t been brought up in a while after featuring relatively heavily in the beginning. hmmm.

8. dick’s in hospital but... he looks remarkably whole for someone who took a spill like that. you’d think he’d at least have a bruise to show for it. on the other hand, i love that the first thing he says is ‘i need to call home’. reminds me of season 1 dick and his clumsy attempts to explain away his found family as an ‘alliance of necessity’ or some bullshit. what a long way he’s come!

*gasp* dick’s hallucinating again!!!!!!!!!!!! i’m doing the dick’s hallucinating dance! can you believe that we’re carrying over these huge honking issues unearthed in season 2 onto season 3? can you believe?!!! all that time and effort i spent talking about dick’s mental health from last season has not gone in vain!!

... ahem. anyway. more on this later.

“hold on barbara, i think kory gave me the number to this therapist that she kept calling Hot Psychiatrist Guy...”

9. just an interlude to say that i’m barely halfway through the episode and i’ve already written 2k+ words... ugh. i’m going to try and be more concise.

10. man i fuckin love it when titans goes all out with its weird mindscapes and i’m extra glad that kory’s the focus this time. is that baby kom or maybe a secret sibling that neither of them knew about? was that lady luand’r? and is this place where kory was circling where the secret sibling is? it’s all very intriguing. 

(if justin turned out to be that sibling... we’ve a real luke/leia situation on our hands.)

11. aw, i knew that nice security guard was going to die, but it still hurt to see him go :(

12. this show is so bizarre. like i get the mindscape as a narrative device, but jason using sex workers to try and vocalise his guilt about killing hank was just weird. like. i have to use tamil, sorry: idhulaan yaaru pa room pottu yosikara??? some things just can’t be translated into a second language.

i guess one way to interpret jason’s reckoning with what he did to the titans as a sign of him coming off crane’s drug, but i think it’s more to do with the disillusionment of realising that he was a mere pawn in a more sinister plan, and not, as he thought, a player in control of his destiny, rising to the purpose of liberating gotham of its fears in a way batman never could. along the way, he’s done some truly irreversible damage. it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

13. another hallucination! it’s really intriguing that it’s a young dick(?), younger than we’ve ever seen him, wearing an early-era robin costume from way before he even became robin. (this is also interesting in that it gives credence to the idea that ‘robin’ is an identity that dick created entirely on his own, and as a possible homage to his family.)

“old road, old house... it’s all gone.” i wonder what it all means.

13.5. it’s entirely likely dick’s hallucinating because of a brain injury from the accident, though just hallucinations without any other focal neurological deficit is unusual. he might’ve been microdosed with fear toxin at some point, though i wonder when... did jason do so after dick’s accident? did he get dosed at the factory from last episode? 

it’s also possible it’s a continuing manifestation of dick’s issues from last season--which, if you remember, he never told anyone about and therefore never properly addressed. maybe he was hallucinating bruce wayne in a psychotic episode accompanying an acute stress reaction and maybe that’s what’s happening now. nobody’s denying that he’s under an extraordinary amount of stress right now. another way to look at it is that this is how he externalises conflict that he can’t bear to suppress anymore; if in s2 halluci!bruce manifested his insecurities and self-loathing, then these hallucinations... something to do with his fears, no doubt.

yet ANOTHER way to look at it might be: rachel is reaching out to him through their, well, psychic bond. after all, they were able to use that bond unconsciously last season to get the titans back together; maybe rachel has learned to gain a degree of control over it in themyscira and is sending across warnings? it’s all very intriguing.

anyway:

“i hear you skipped over the discowing suit in your evolution to nightwing... how could you??”

14. can you imagine, gar did all the work of reaching out to jason via molly and jason wants to meet dick? smh.

14.5. “i’m just a regular guy doing regular things” he says, standing at the opening of a secret old tunnel, like a secret person doing secret things, confronting someone who can now officially be called his stalker. neither of you guys are ‘regular’

14.8. ‘my dad was a cop and he taught me how to investigate’ - hmmm. i guess they’re trying to Explain Tim but i don’t think that’s really necessary. so he’s smart and he’s obsessed with batman and robin--that should be enough, imo. 

15. that scene with scarecrow and his mother was... wow. i’m just laughing here helplessly, because what the hell? for a while i thought it was an extended dream sequence and i’m still not entirely sure that it isn’t...

anyway. i still love that titans is happy to throw out its plot in favour of extended character-exploration sessions.

15.5. it seems to me that this scene with crane and his mother (i have no idea if there’s anything in the comics similar to this) serves to move forward this season’s theme of harmful legacies and how parents can damage their children in the name of their mission. in a way it’s been the underlying message of the entire show but we’re really seeing it being reinforced this season. the titans, serving as a foil to scarecrow, are using the damage to rebuild themselves and actually work through their issues together, instead of spiralling further and further into the morass of their issues.

other than that... god, that scene was painful to watch. i can’t say i like this version of scarecrow or how this actor plays him at all.

16. i wonder what’s jason’s play here. i think he’s smart enough to realise that the titans aren’t going to just forgive him and let him be a titan again after what he did, and that dick agreeing to it is just a bid to pin both him and crane down. maybe it’s a ploy to trap them, get back on scarecrow’s good books so that he can have the drug again. who knows.

17. i absolutely felt dick when he said “we’ll bring him in and then re-assess the situation.” what the fuck else is he going to say? the priority is to get him.

so kory and dick are both hallucinating while potentially trying to rehabilitate their murderous siblings. CONFIDE IN EACH OTHER ALREADY

18. TIM NOOOO! you beautiful, reckless fool!

18.25. just to quickly address it here because i know it’s been brought up before: i think it’s perfectly justified to not have conner take tim to the hospital via superspeed because a) i don’t think we’ve seen conner do that with anybody so far and b) it’s probably not a good idea to submit tim’s body to that kind of stress without knowing what it would do to him. the paramedics with actual equipment and experience would be there in a few minutes, so on a risk assessment, i would say dick and conner absolutely made the right call.

18.5. i guess we won’t know what jason really intended to when the titans came to the pump to see him, but this is definitely going to set a big wedge in his relationship with crane. then again, crane got what he wanted--using starfire’s powers to blast through to the underground pipes--so jason can argue that this is exactly what he was working towards, too. 

anyway, mortal peril, hallucinations, murderous family members, creepy visions and robins sprouting left and right. time to get rachel and donna on the scene, i think.

[flowerflamestars]

okay i’m still obsessed with your idea of nesta and tarquin together!! would you mind giving us a little more on that, like how would they first interact, what would nesta think of him, all of that? thank you so much!!!! 💚💚

I would love to!!!

The important thing to remember about the Tarquin Draft is that is has the same main story as Daylight: Nesta in Day, Nesta the Library, Helion’s grumpy best, best truest friend ride or die companion.

So Nesta doesn’t actually meet Tarquin again until she’s halfway to okay. It’s plotwise timeline closest to where she is in the most recent chapter- feeling at home in her body, really hitting her stride as Librarian, gaining a reputation as just an absolutely formidable force who helps anyone who asks.

There’s been correspondence between the Library and Summer- Nesta, acting as a go-between for Kallias- but remember, no one uses her name. 

So it’s a big surprise when the Librarian arrives in Summer, pulls down her black and gold hood and...there is Feyre Archeron’s face, like a nightmare. Except not- wearier, sharper, older, devastation and salvation like the sunrise after a storm at sea- Nesta, who laughs in Cresseida’s face when the Princess of Adriata calls her a Night Court spy.

Nesta: wouldn’t that require belonging to the Night Court? Try my baby sister, if you’d like to yell about idiotic plans. Where are the books that keep eating people?

Cresseida is so wary, but Nesta, of course, isn’t actually going to leave before handling the cursed trove some Summer sailors pulled from the sea. She’s the Librarian.

Tarquin just...doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want to be proved inexperienced, that he can’t act for his people’s good by a beautiful woman again. But Nesta aggressively wants to help, and ultimately, he lets her.

And Nesta acts nothing like Feyre.

She takes off that cloak of office (listen, I’m picturing like, the coolest wide-legged, sleeveless white linen jumpsuit that has EVER existed, chic but functional), puts on a sunhat that she...magicked into her hand? and stomps into the shallows. Starts pulling sailors souls out of the treasure and hauling them to shore.

It’s terrifyingly efficient. And listen, Tarquin doesn’t give a shit about rank, so he, after some very blushy surprise because no, he did not know he had a competency kink and Nesta Archeron has tiny adorable little freckles on her shoulders- gets in the waves to help.

Nesta doesn’t even look at him.

What she does is save the lives of twelve of his men, pick up the faintly hissing, utterly cursed chest of books that started all this, and ask Cresseida is there’s a room where she can work. 

So they take her to the palace. 

The beautiful ambassadors rooms, windows and silk and the sound of water. 

It becomes clear that the curse is in fact, just a curse, but one that can only be broken under the full moon, which is two weeks away. So Nesta stays, being the only person who can keep that magic from spreading. The only payment she wants is to take the books back when she goes which leaves Tarquin, arms full of the traditional gift of pearls, VERY embarrassed.

But he gets over it. Tarquin is genuinely chill- he has baggage from the weight of his responsibility, of being fooled by the Night Court- but he’s also so, so young. Kind. Curious. He doesn’t want to judge Nesta on the actions of people related to her, and once she proves herself, he doesn’t.

And meanwhile Nesta is like, cool. Cool, cool, cool- I can’t sleep while I’m here, I can’t winnow home and sleep because the Library can’t suppress a curse from hundreds of miles away, I’m not going to steal the books like a fucking thief in the night like Feyre-

So Nesta does a lot of exploring. 

Tarquin comes into the harbor one morning, pink still streaking the sky. He’d been up in predawn doing Manly Boating Things with his navy- he walks through the harbor, lets the sounds his happy people sooth the rush of magic that still surprises him- to shape the sea, to cease the waves, to bend the world, to call the tide- and goes looking for breakfast.

Instead, he finds Nesta.

In line a line waiting for fresh bread and pastries, in another insanely attractive white outfit, looking at the sky. She’s alone- he’d given her guards, servants, knew damn well Cresseida was watching her- holding a basket, drinking coffee with her free hand.

So Tarquin joins her.

It cannot be overstated how genuinely charmed they both are with how normal it is. No death and war between them. No magic drawing them together. No real history- Nesta isn’t Feyre in the slightest- just a man with salt drying in his hair and a beautiful grin, asking if he can buy Nesta breakfast. 

Just Nesta, and the only High Lord she’s ever met besides Helion who isn’t aggressive. As she says, Nesta has as many problems with High Fae men as they tend to her- the siren song of power, challenge called to challenge by her very primordial being.

And listen, Tarquin is a huge, very physical dude. Summer faeries are touchy, in a friendly way. But he also, like Helion, is smart enough to pick up on how screamingly uncomfortable men make Nesta. He doesn’t know why, and noticing it made him feel a little sick- but he’s careful. Kind, funny Tarquin, whose managed in knowing her just a few days to figure out how to approach her without triggering her.

So Nesta says yes. Nesta probably says something snarky as hell about his High Lordly hospitality.

And Tarquin laughs- genuinely, beautiful.

He’s still laughing when they get to humble little window, and Nesta goes still. 

Tarquin clocks it- handles what they’re doing, gets Nesta out of the line of people without unnecessarily touching her. He sort of thinks she’s having a panic attack?- finds a nice quiet bench under a tree. He’s also pretty sure he’s making it worse just by being present, but he’s not going to leave her alone like this- so Tarquin just like, sits on the ground.

Which startles Nesta. She looks up- he doesn’t know her well enough to know what’s going on, so he’s extremely confused when Nesta goes: why is she here?

Tarquin: ???

Nesta: the HUMAN

There’s part of Nesta thinking the worst possible scenarios- what her past and the Night court taught her. 

But Tarquin just like, blinks? Sets down the pastry bag on the bench for Nesta and is says well, she was shipwrecked. A whole passenger ship from the continent last summer- she was going to the North, to start a new business. But she liked it here, and decided to stay. 

Nesta: that human woman, owns a business? Here. 

Tarquin, who’s starting to get what is happening here: Yes. She’s a Summer Court citizen.

Nesta eats a pastry. Nesta, face wry, eventually hands a pastry to Tarquin, who’d seemingly decided she needed them more than he did. Tarquin wolfs it down in three bites, just enough time for Nesta to grumpily confess: I’ve never seen a free human, above the Wall.

Tarquin, haltingly, shyly is like: well, I want it to be different. We all share the same world. Acting like we’re not all the same is how Hybern almost took over- 

By the end of the sentence he’d managed to look up. That was the voice a High Lord, a man who had power and would use it.

So they have this truce, a spark of very real, pretty damned charmed interest. They walk back to the Palace across the whole city, talking.

The next day Nesta is deep in working Librarianing while she’s there- and Tarquin just pops up. Draws as little attention to himself as possible to be like, here. I noticed your hat blew away yesterday? So I brought you a new one. And some coffee. Do you like it cold? Don’t let me get in the way, what you’re doing is important.

What he means by important: incredible. 

It had taken him ages to find her, because Nesta is apparently spending her spare time- does she sleep??- winnowing all over his territory, solving any problems anyone asks of her, bringing books to schools. Talking to regional leaders about what their educational needs are. Chatting with sea monsters so the fishermen understand they’ll be totally safe, so long as they always throw back in that one kind of crab that the baby krackens exclusively eat.

And look, it is a coping strategy. Nesta CANNOT rest by the sound of the sea- but she’d also realized this kingdom her sister had fucked with had been hit so, so hard by Amarantha, and then the war. That she can help, so she will.

But she just kind of stops. Tarquin left as quickly as he came she’s just there like- coffee. hat. BEAUTIFUL RESPECTFUL MAN. It’s not the vibe of her and Helion. It’s flirty but not...pressing? It’s nothing like how any faerie man (see: Cassian) who wanted her has ever, ever treated her and it’s just...so, nice.

He’s nice. Gorgeous. Easy to be around, which Does Not Happen to Nesta ever.

Nesta breaks the curse and leaves. 

Keeps her promise to the schools, visits to sit on the shore and talk to sea monster babies, so much more prodigious now that they have enough food.

Tarquin thinks she’s amazing, and he starts writing to her. For real Lordship reasons, but also just to see what she’ll say- he wants to know how humans live. How his cities could integrate them. Can they use magic? Will they, if it’s available to them?  

Tarquin finds someone- witty, beautiful, so intriguing- who believes in the value of his most difficult dreams. Nesta finds someone who looks at the most fraught, hurt parts of her- humanity lost, a terrible human life, that she still, even now, asks herself sometimes if she can belong, and treats those things as important and integral.

And they fall in love.

It’s a story about a lot of things- Nesta, who drowned to become, learning the whole seas of world will still for her, protect her. Tarquin who does revolutionize his kingdom, and spend centuries counting Nesta’s freckles as they peel and disappear. 

Love of choice. Nesta, in the sun, being adored. Tarquin, who so many people think is foolish, a reckless dreamer, defended by the most loyal person on earth. 

There’s small details i love so much it makes me want to go to the extremely troublesome work of writing them their own story- Nesta inviting the mermaids from the Night Court waters to live in a place no on is afraid of them. Tarquin who is both sort of a golden retriever but ALSO a proud, petty bitch when tried, draping Nesta head to toe in rubies for inter-court events. 

With Tarquin the story really embraces the idea of eternity- of possibility. They’re young, they’re equals in this eternal life. There’s so many years ahead of them, so many things they can do: they have time to go slow, to make changes, to learn each other inside and out as they become the people they want to be.

[aotopmha]

(Chapter 396)

I've been thinking a lot about Robin's character recently.

Her character is one of the very first characters I remember truly relating to when I was young.

I've been interested in history and humanity's relationship with history since a fairly young age and it's almost strange how well this story which I for a very long time just considered a fun adventure with occasional nuggets of heart and hearty laughter manages to weave a powerful story of fighting an oppressive regime through only showing the erasure of history and making knowing it a taboo.

The Void Century is attention-grabbing to the readers not only because it is a mystery box waiting to be opened, but also because it is something forbidden and something the main antagonistic force of the story actively tries to hide. Knowing or even having any connection to this knowledge is a crime. So, of course, we as readers want to know what went down in those 100 years even more.

The motif of the sun has been a really strong constant in the second half of the story and I think the obvious representations of it have been pointed out many times. Everywhere the Straw Hats go, they bring freedom. They bring hope and perhaps a bridge of connection between opposing fractions. They bring peace and they do so through chance encounters, when feeling involving themselves is the right thing to do.

And Robin's ultimate goal has a similar, yet also a little different connotation. It's bringing knowledge to light. The idea of enlightenment is also very easily linked to the sun.

The world of One Piece is enveloped in darkness in many senses of the word, one of them the lack of this knowledge and I just kind of appreciate the rock solid thematic consistency here with the theme of freedom and what freedom means and what it doesn't mean.

For something I dismissed as ugly and dumb when I first saw it, One Piece really shook me and consistently kept surprising me and making me think. When I first saw the Arlong Park arc, I think what the story ended up doing thematically blew my mind because my young mind had never seen anything like it.

A cartoon where all of the characters looked so wierd and ugly talked about ideas I read in all of those highly-regarded books in literature class.

And hey, we had the whole sun imagery as far as back then, in material covered in chapter 80-100. Neat.

I think it's Water 7 when my opinion about the story truly changed. One Piece's humor is the kind of humor I did not expect to give room for the story to be powerful on a larger scale. Stuff like fart jokes, slapstick, extremely exaggerated facial expressions and the way the story did all of it for the longest time made me think that's what the story was going to be in its entirety. I get individual stories for sure, but not bigger picture stuff.

I'm still impressed to this day how it manages to do this with the art style it has.

It's all really cool.

[moiraineswife]

Worth - A Stormlight Fic

Back at it with my Jasnah/Wit crimes. Come. Feast on my content.

Title: Worth

Summary: Set pre Rhythm of War, probably fairly early on in Jasnah and Wit's foray into romantic territory (though tbh they're early on in RoW, so this is probably like...a month before or something). Anyway. Jasnah takes a moment to herself to Think Deep Thoughts about the world. Wit joins her and they Think Deep Thoughts together. 

Honestly it's just them vibing with each other for the whole fic because I get a serious kick out of that aspect of their dynamic and I really enjoy writing it. I don't know how else to sell this to you. I feel like at this point if you're here you're here for good. So enjoy.

Teaser:   "Jasnah was respected, certainly.

She might even be loved, by her family, whom she loved deeply in turn.

But she was rarely liked. And seldom wanted.

When the impenetrable tides of the Cosmere pushed someone towards her like Wit, though? Someone who not only seemed to actually like and want her, but also understand her? Well, then she was only human.

Human, and lonely. So lonely. Craving things others did not seem to believe she actually wanted."

Link: ao3

Commission Link: Have me write other cosmere characters

Sometimes, Jasnah forgot that the world was beautiful.

Academically, she knew that it was. She understood the quest of artists and poets to capture it, just as she sought to capture and unravel the mysteries of the past. Different types of scholarship, but both worthy, she now saw.

Yet practically, day-to-day, she did not often have the luxury of thinking about it.

So much of her life had been spent inside, enclosed by stone walls, buried in dusty books, surrounded by towering shelves, not mountains. The cold glow of spheres had replaced the warm kiss of the sun for her for so long now.

She had never resented her surroundings. They had made her feel contained, safe. The points by which she might have been approached, or attacked, could be easily identified, countered, and understood, when inside. It was a controlled environment, and that was the kind she preferred.

Strange, though, that close confines should make her feel protected now, considering…

Well, it did not do to dwell on that. Besides. It was the darkness that truly conjured up those particular Voidbringers.

She gave herself a little shake, refocusing on what unfolded before her, like a masterwork painting she had been included in. A single brushstroke in the centre of the piece, an afterthought, there merely to demonstrate how small humanity was in comparison to the expanse of nature.

Her chambers, by design, did not have a balcony. The danger it might allow in had not been worth risking for the sake of a pretty outlook and some fresh air. As a Radiant, she did not need to breathe, fresh air or otherwise. And if she needed something nice to look at while in her interior rooms, she’d ask Shallan for a sketch.

Still. It was pleasant to stand out here, for a moment.

The meeting she’d attended in Dalinar’s chambers had concluded, and the others had left almost at once to deal with other business about the tower.

This had left Jasnah to a rare moment of solitude and free time, when no-one expected her to be anywhere, so she had been free to simply be where she was.

In a rare impulse, she had taken the liberty of stepping out onto the balcony, and now she savoured this small gift she had afforded herself.

She missed the peace of being alone. Save Ivory, of course, but he was as much a part of her as her blood or bones, and did not count.

Urithiru was absolutely the place she needed to be. The goal of her long years of solitary research had been accomplished. It was time to move on to the next, and this tower was its natural staging ground.

Yet a part of her wished for those days. Solitude had been her blessing and her burden, back then, but now she only thought of it fondly.

She had been free, undisturbed by others and their needs, to do as she had wished to do. She had been unconstrained, unbound, save the pressures she had placed upon herself.

The burden of a dying world no-one else had noticed or heard screaming, as she had, had weighed upon her, and her alone. Like the Herald, Taln, for all those years, she had held the weight of Roshar and all those who lived upon it. Unknown. Unseen. Ignored.

Now that burden was shared. She had others that would listen to her, that could help. A good thing. For in bearing it alone, despite her torment, her pains, and her best efforts, she had failed. Again.

A part of her missed her peace, however. There was little of it to be found here.

She smiled wryly at herself, drumming her fingers on the balcony’s stone rail.

Wit would likely have had something to say had he been privy to her current musings. Something sarcastic, yet blended with enough insight to be profound all the same.

Satisfy a chull’s most basic wants and needs - food, water, shelter - and it would be content.

Satisfy a human’s most extravagant, outlandish and unnecessary wants and needs, and they would immediately discover new ones. Most likely contrary to the ones that had just been fulfilled.

Yes. he would like that idea. She tucked the thought away to share with him when he returned. He had been gone for a few weeks now, off doing whatever it was that he did. She did not begrudge him his travels. He had to do as he felt he must, and at her side was not always where he thought he was needed.

Though she did not chastise him, she did envy him, at times. What must it be like, to have the freedom to travel, not only across Vorin Roshar, but to other worlds.

He told her of it sometimes, at her urging. He would never say what he specifically was doing there, but she didn’t much care about that. She didn’t want the details of his adventures. She wanted to know of the places he had them. What other worlds looked like, felt like, what their history revealed of them, how they differed from Roshar, how and why culture had evolved there.

Some of their most stimulating talks involved these things. Jasnah had found herself dreaming, as she had as a girl, of fantastical places that felt so tangible, so real, yet out of reach.

Wit would return soon, she believed, and bring tales of other worlds. For now, she let herself simply watch her own as it turned around her.

Thick clouds swirled overhead, like blots of ink dropped into water, expanding and encompassing. They created a cavernous ceiling so far above, making her feel enclosed, but also free.

The vastness of it made her feel small. So small. So insignificant to this world she had tried to save. Likely it neither cared nor noticed. That gave her a strange sense of comfort. It was nice, for once, not to be seen, not to feel the weight of eyes and expectation upon her.

A wild songling flew past at her eye level,  sculpting the sky with its wings, trilling in warning of her presence to others she could not see.

Wind blew through the mountains around her, rising, and falling, and echoing in a song that seemed just for her.

Yes. This world was beautiful. This was what she fought for. These quiet moments. The spaces between the words of the history books. The moments no-one thought to write of, but which they lived for.

She had become so deeply entrenched in saving the world, lately, that she hadn’t taken enough time to appreciate precisely what she was saving. It was good to look out, now, to take a moment, to remember.

This was her world. If Odium wanted it, he would have to pry it from her bloody, clawing fingers. And she would not make it easy for him.

The door behind her opened, and Jasnah felt herself tense, alert. Ivory, on her collar, always keeping watch for her, murmured, “Wit. He comes to find you.”

She smiled, in spite of herself.

“Thank you,” she told Ivory, whose careful observation of the world around her, covering her blindspots, was the only reason she felt even a little safety these days.

Excitement rose in her at the thought that Wit had returned. A part of her, that quiet, cautious part that whispered always of what might hurt her, warned that her eagerness in this moment was more dangerous to her than any blade or poisoned bread had ever been.

She acknowledged that. She would be a fool not to. She was no sheltered child any longer, believing that if a person loved her, they would be incapable of ever hurting her.

Yet, for all she valued her solitude, loneliness was something else entirely.

She would be a liar if she claimed to not have felt lonely these past few years.

Jasnah did not need people. She had built a life for herself that all but ensured she would never need anyone else for any reason ever again.

But she could want them.

That feeling was rarely mutual, however.

Oh, Jasnah was respected, certainly. She was renowned as a scholar and well-regarded in many academic circles. She was sought after and coveted as a means of cosying up to political favour or power. She was needed now as a queen, a thinker, a Radiant.

She might even be loved, by her family, whom she loved deeply in turn.

But she was rarely liked. And seldom wanted.

Jasnah did not often dwell on that. She would not waste her precious time wallowing in self pity like a hog in crem. She had far better things to do with herself than that.

When the impenetrable tides of the Cosmere pushed someone towards her like Wit, though? Someone who not only seemed to actually like and want her, but also understand her? Well, then she was only human.

Human, and lonely. So lonely. Craving things others did not seem to believe she actually wanted.

At times she had felt like the last member of a dying species. Alien. Unable to properly fit with anyone around her, no matter how hard she tried.

Then Wit. Another who did not fit his world. Someone who saw her, and knew, they were of a rare kind. And by some stroke of luck they had found another like them. Two topaz spheres in a basin full of diamonds.

She felt it as he stepped up behind her, slow, footsteps deliberately loud so she knew that he was there. Then he put his arms around her, clasping his hands in front of her, holding her to him.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, quietly, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“What makes you believe I’m thinking anything?” she replied, absently reaching up and carding her fingers through his neatly styled hair.

“When are you not?” he returned, smoothly, nuzzling at her neck. Not to entice, simply...For intimacy’s sake.

She had, incredibly, found herself missing his strange little physical displays of affection while he was gone. So she allowed this. He was always more prone to such bouts when he’d been away for a time.

“Mm, a point,” she allowed.

“Come then,” he said, breath pleasantly warm on her skin, “A clip for them?”

“A clip?” she repeated, frowning.

“Ah, yes,” he said, as if he’d just remembered something. Likely which planet he was on. Literally. “A small metal coin. Not from around these parts,” he explained, confirming her hypothesis.

“And what would I do with a small metal coin that’s not from around here?” she asked, amused.

It had likely been nothing more than an honest slip on his part, a forgotten habit, but she always liked to see what she could tease from these little lapses.

“Oh I’m quite sure you’d think of something,” he said, lightly, “Perhaps even something somewhat clever, knowing you.”

“Indeed,” she said, “And what will you do with my thoughts, should I give them to you?”

“Torment them,” he said, promptly, “Twist them, and turn them, and then make them dance for your entertainment while wearing that lovely purple havah that suits you so well.”

She smiled.

“Come then,” he said, “Tell me what wondrous, profound, revelatory thoughts the great Jasnah Kholin has been thinking on upon this lonely balcony of Urithiru?”

She breathed in the crisp mountain air, and said, simply, “I think that this world is beautiful, Wit.”

Another man might have made some empty comment regarding her own beauty, which would have done nothing but put her off. Fortunately, Wit knew better.  

He only rested his head on her shoulder again and said, with uncharacteristic reverence, “Yes, it is.”

“Beautiful,” she repeated, “And worth saving.”

He perked up at that, and though she couldn’t see his face, she could imagine the expression on it as he planned to do with this thought exactly what he’d said he would.

“If the world were ugly,” he said, musing, “Would it then not be worth saving in your estimation, my dear? Very judgemental of you.”

“If I didn’t consider ugly things worth saving, I’d have allowed someone to assassinate you months ago, Wit,” she replied.

“How kind of you to forbid them,” he said lightly, not missing a beat, "It’s been attempted recently, then?” he added, with an indecent kind of interest.

“Yes. Three times.”

“Thrilling. A good assassination attempt every so often does wonders for one’s reflexes. Not to mention their sense of self-importance. After all, no-one ever tries to assassinate the unimportant,” he observed.

She might have noted how strange it was that someone was pleased to have been the subject of an assassination attempt. But this was Wit, and that was therefore expected behaviour from him. Not worthy of any special consideration.

Instead she drummed her fingers on the stone rail in front of her, considering.

“I’d permit the next one to slip through my defences to keep you on your toes,” she told him drily, “But I fear if your head becomes any more inflated than it already is, it may explode and ruin my new havah.”

Wit laughed loudly at that, and in so doing yielded their little verbal sparring match to her. A token of her victory.

He kissed her neck gently, and she could feel the smile on his lips as he did so. That made her feel warm.

“In any case,” she said, settling more completely against him, allowing him to hold her more firmly against him, their bodies melding more as she relaxed into it, “I don’t think a world is capable of being ugly, Wit.”

“That, my dear, very much depends,” he said lightly.

“On what?”

“On how you feel about sand,” he said, with a dramatic sigh.

“I feel that it’s coarse, stubborn, and irksome to find unexpectedly in your shoe,” she deadpanned in return, “Based on that I think we’d get on just fine, given that we seem very much alike.”

Wit huffed an amused laugh against her neck at that. “I assure you, I would be much happier to find you in my shoe than sand, Jasnah. Far more so were it my bed, in place of my shoe,” he added, his voice deepening as he said it.

She smiled faintly. She would not object to spending that time alone with him tonight after his absence. They always bonded more deeply afterwards, and she enjoyed the pleasurable distraction it provided. A nice reset for her mind.

“Later, perhaps,” she murmured softly, “If you earn your place there.”

“You wound me, Jasnah,” he said, allowing the mood of the conversation to flow smoothly back to light, neutral ground again, without the heat of loaded implications. “You know I always do my utmost to remain by your side as your Wit.”

“You have done satisfactorily in that area thus far, I will admit,” she allowed.

He did make a good Wit, and she had employed him on more than one occasion, to  the general devastation of his target.

“And in other areas?” he prompted, resting against her once more.

“Mm, I’m still considering.”

Wit smiled against her once more, then stretched up and kissed her temple as he said, “I think that you’re right, dear one.”

“I may require you to be more specific, Wit,” she said, smiling slightly, “As I’m often right.”

He chuckled, “Quite correct. In this case, I believe that you’re right in saying that a world cannot be ugly. Not in a way that makes it unworthy of saving, at any rate.”

“No,” she agreed, softly, “Especially since this world still has heart, left, Wit, and that alone is worth preserving.”

He hummed softly in affirmation, then said, “Do you know, Jasnah, I do believe that I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been three weeks, Wit,” she said drily, “You’ll notice you survived my absence.”

But she smiled, in spite of her words, and that warmth flared in her again.

She believed him when he said things like that. In truth, she believed him when he said most things. They may be convoluted or misleading, but they were not outright lies.

“And you?” he said, nuzzling at her like an axehound puppy under a blanket again, “Did you survive without your Wit?”

“Barely,” she deadpanned.

Then she softened, because she enjoyed this game between them, this playful back and forth that kept them both sharp and engaged, but she was discovering something deeper that existed beneath the surface of it. And she felt that worth noting, too.

Placing her hands on top of his, she said quietly, “I am glad to see you back, Wit,” her smile genuine. “Life tends to be more interesting when you’re around.”

“My dear,” he replied, in mock outrage, “This almost implies that I have a purpose in being here.”

“Further evidence that you don’t count as art, Wit,” she said lightly, smiling.

“ Further evidence?” he repeated.

“Didn’t we already discuss your beauty? More specifically its lack?” she replied, falling comfortably back into rhythm with him.

“Jasnah!” he exclaimed, “I worked very hard when sculpting this face to make it as aesthetically pleasing as possible!”

“To chasmfiends?”

He snorted.

“You are truly irresistible, dear,” he told her, tone half genuinely fond, half playfully wicked.

“Really?” she prompted, expecting the follow-through.

“As irresistible as a man lashed to a chull being pulled irresistibly along behind it as it rampages freely through the plains,” he said, completing the sequence of their dance.

“Chulls don’t rampage, Wit,” she said flatly.

“Well then pretend that they do. For the sake of art , Jasnah,” he returned.

She smiled, then glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes bright, twinkling. He didn’t seem offended or at all hurt by her jibes but-

“Did I take that too far then?” she asked, bluntly.

She liked that she could ask him those kinds of questions, with the knowledge that they would be taken with the sincerity she intended, and without judgement. A part of her still feared the answer.

“Not at all,” Wit replied.

Though his tone was still light and jovial, she felt herself relax again. That was the truth, for he did not tell those sorts of lies.

“I haven’t had such a pleasantly stimulating conversation since, well, since our last,” he added, and there seemed a genuine fondness in his words.

She smiled again, as he punctuated this last with a soft kiss, which she dipped back slightly to receive. Then he pulled her close, hands resting comfortably against her, chin on her shoulder once more, following her gaze out over the mountains.

They stood in silence for a while, enjoying one another’s warmth and company.

Then he punctured the moment like a stray arrow to the lung by commenting, conversationally, “Have you considered that were I an assassin, this would be an excellent position from which to stab you?”

Jasnah tensed. She did not flinch, she did not . He was joking. She knew that he was joking. He had told her, quite openly,  that he could not physically harm another living person. Curiously, she believed that.

She still reacted to his words as if they were an attempted strike at her.

Then she took a breath, and allowed her shardplate to manifest around her. It was always there, safeguarding her, protecting her, but it felt good to bring it into existence in this moment.

Wit laughed lightly, but the sound seemed to be lacking his usual humour.

She turned to face him at last, sliding out of his grip. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and cupped her face with his hand.

“Always prepared,” he said softly, “Always ready for the worst to happen at all times. I know that. I know your fears, and I should not have made light of them with a jest. I apologise.”

She nodded, allowing her plate to fade back into the cognitive realm again.

Choosing to ignore the latter part of his statement, and its implications, she said, “We’re at war, Wit. It’s only reasonable to be on your guard at all times.”

Wit smiled again, that knowing, almost sad look. His hand rested gently against her cheek and he said, “What a convenient excuse that must be for you, Jasnah.”

She turned away, out of his gentle caress. Yes. It was a convenient excuse. He was getting in too close, learning to read her too well, he-

No. She shut those feelings down and took a deep breath.

He was right, of course. It was hard to trust a world that had dealt so much pain to her. Hard to trust people when they always hurt you. Even the ones that loved you. Especially those. She couldn’t articulate that to him yet, however. She was unsure if she even wanted to.

Wit seemed to sense that, and he slid his fingers under her chin, gentle but firm, and coaxed her to look up at him again. “There will be a time you can relax, Jasnah. It seems impossible to conceive of it now, but you will feel safe again. Some day.”

She leaned forwards, pressing her forehead to his. How sweet that would be if it were true. How nice it would feel. She said nothing, because she did not believe, but did not want to undermine his sentiment.

“We will save it, Jasnah,” he murmured to her, “Your beautiful world.”

She smiled, “Then perhaps we might actually enjoy it,” she said, thinking back on her earlier musings.

Wit smiled, “No, my dear,” he said, and she withdrew, frowning slightly, to look at him, “Then I will show you new worlds for you to study and learn of and feast upon.”

She smiled at that, very broadly, for it was the first time he had so directly stated, without flowery implications or vague hints, that he would like her to accompany him.

“Even the ones covered in sand?” she asked, amused.  

“For you, Jasnah?” he said, eyes twinkling, “Why yes, we can even go to Taldain. If you insist.”

“I do, Wit,” she said, turning back to look out across the mountains, taking his arm and coaxing him to put it around her once more, enveloping her in his warmth.

Safety, even in the open.

“I wish to see it,” she said, closing her eyes and allowing herself a moment to imagine, “I wish to see them all.”

[doc-pickles]

never thought i’d see it break

okay listen.... i am sorry for this fic, mainly because i know some of y’all are going to drag me into the ground for this. but i wanted to write some angst and while it might not be super angsty in theory it definitely counts because our favorite idiots don’t end up together. like at all. so once again, sorry for any mental anguish i may cause, i promise i’ll make it up to you guys tomorrow.  

also i cried writing this so good luck

Halloween 2020

She really didn’t think that the day would hit her so hard. The days leading up to it had been uneventful, the decorations lining the halls at work not fazing her in the slightest as she went about her daily routine. But when Jo woke up on Halloween morning, it felt like the past year of her life was slapping her in the face. The cold harsh reality of her husband up and leaving her sat deep in the pit of her stomach, her mind reeling as she laid in bed. 

“Are you getting up today,” Levi looked at Jo from his position on the couch, eyeing her warily. “Because I had plans but I can cancel them.” “Get out, go away,” Jo’s monotone voice was barely above a mumble as she stared menacingly at Levi. “Let me wallow once again in the realization that my marriage has failed and I will probably die alone. Or with you. Can’t tell which of those is worse.” 

Levi blew out a short breath, gathering his things and letting Jo know he was going to hang out with Nico for the day. Once the door to the loft was closed and locked, Jo reached beneath her bed and pulled out a large black box. Pulling the lid off, her breath caught in her throat as she took in the contents of the box.

Laying on top was a ratty tshirt, one that Jo had once religiously worn as she climbed into bed every night. The faded Iowa State logo stared up at her with a menacing aura, the memories that came with it too painful for Jo to relive. She set it aside and reached for the photo album below it, the dusty jacket brandishing a name she’d wished she could forget but rang through her mind everyday. 

The Karev’s. 

She knew it was torture, opening the book up to look at photos of a day that was once happy and beautiful but now filled her eyes with tears, but she did it anyways. The shades of blue and yellow that graced the pages, the smiling faces of their friends, of him, were like a glowering unwanted sign that her life had taken a detour that she had neither wanted nor anticipated. It didn’t help that there was a Polaroid tucked into the back page, her and Alex grinning at the camera with fake blood and vampire fangs adorning their faces. 

Hastily shoving the photobook and shirt back into the box, Jo ignored the numerous photos, ticket stubs, letters, and other memorabilia from the years she’d spent with Alex and shoved the box back under the bed. Why she’d thought taking it out was a good idea she would never know, but the feeling that had been blossoming when she woke up was now taking over her entire chest in a painful display. 

How had her life been so different a year ago? Sure it wasn’t ever picture perfect, her and Alex had their differences but they’d always worked through whatever was thrown at them together. His dad, DeLuca, Paul, him getting fired, her mom… every single problem they’d faced in their seven years together had been done exactly like that, together. Whether by choice or by reluctant agreement, the two were always there for one another, but apparently ex wives with two children she kept a secret for five years was where they drew the line. Where Alex drew the line.

Knowing she wouldn’t be doing the laundry that was piling up or scrubbing the sinks that needed some TLC, Jo settled back into bed, eyes watering as she scooted to the right side of the bed and clutched the now unused pillow that lay there. It didn’t smell like him any longer, but the comfort of holding the fabric to her chest still held. 

That’s where Meredith found her hours later, tear stains across her cheeks as she slept through the afternoon. A heavy sigh left the blonde as she settled onto the edge of the bed, one hand patting Jo’s shoulder affectionately as she woke. 

“Schmitt texted, he said you were wallowing in misery so I figured that was a cry for help,” Meredith let out a chuckle at Jo’s angry expression. “Come on, you can come take the kids trick or treating with me, it’ll be a good distraction.”

“I don’t want to move,” Jo mumbled into her pillow, eyes barely moving to meet Meredith’s. “I want to lay here until I sink so far into the mattress that no one can ever find me again.” “Jo, it’s been months. And I know it’s not easy, but you’ve been so strong through all of this, I’d hate to see one day ruin everything for you,” Jo sighed at Meredith’s words, knowing her friend was right. “If you get up now I will pour wine into a tumbler for you to drink while we walk around.” “Fine,” Jo rolled out of bed, glaring at Meredith as she did so. “But I’m only getting up for the wine.”

Halloween 2023

“You know I don’t normally interact with other humans on Halloween.”

Jo stood in the doorway of her apartment, a grin on her face as she looked at the man in front of her. His grin was threatening to overtake his face as he leaned down and kissed her sweetly, one arm wrapping around her waist, “I brought beer and scary movies, will you let me in now?”  

“Okay fine, only because of the beer and not because I like you so much,” Jo rolled her eyes and opened the door fully, letting Jack into the apartment and locking the door behind him. “Please tell me you have Scream in your collection, otherwise I don’t think this is gonna work out.” 

Jack pulled out the aforementioned DVD case, eliciting a cheer from Jo as he set up the movie. She really didn’t think she’d been this happy in a long time, the feeling of happiness bubbling in her chest as she grabbed popcorn an altogether new experience. 

When she’d picked up a Safe Haven baby from Station 19 four months ago, she hadn’t expected to have an hour and a half long conversation with Jack Gibson, who’d been sitting with the little girl before she’d arrived. Their conversation flowed so easily that the two had picked it up over dinner that night and the rest was history. 

She hadn’t seen anyone since Alex left, she hadn’t wanted to waste time on something that was going to leave her heartbroken again because she just couldn’t do that. But the connection she felt with Jack was real and exciting and something Jo hadn’t realized she’d needed until she had it. It almost distracted her from the fact that today her and Alex should be celebrating four years of marriage together. Almost. 

“Are you dazing out again over there,” Jack’s voice was light and cheery, but Jo could see the concern etched on his face as soon as he took a good look at her. “Hey, what’s wrong? We can watch Poltergeist if that’s what you want.”

A heavy sigh left Jo as she realized that she’d have to tell someone else exactly why today was one of her least favorite days of the year. Of course Jack knew that she was divorced, he’d met Alex once or twice when bringing in patients but he didn’t know everything. It wasn’t something that you should burden your partner with four months into your relationship, the ways that you failed in your previous marriage. 

“I was married. Obviously. And we got married on Halloween, so that’s why I don’t like being around people today, because it still sucks,” Jo’s gaze was concentrated on her fingers as she spoke, not wanting to see the pitiful expression on Jack’s face as she relayed her tragic backstory. “And I didn’t really wanna bring it up because you… you are the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time and I don’t want to ruin that by talking about my failed marriage.”

Eyes finally flitting up to look at Jack, Jo was startled to find empathy instead of pity in his expression. She knew he’d had a rough upbringing like her, that neither of them had been handed anything they had in life, but the unexpected compassion and Jack showed her always took her by surprise. 

“You are a badass. And for the record, you’re the best thing that’s happened for me in quite awhile too,” Jack wrapped his arms around Jo and brought her into his chest, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Would it make you feel better if we played a drinking game and got ridiculously drunk?”

“You know me so well,” Jo giggled as her eyes met Jack’s, his green eyes sparkling with that same sense of compassion that he always wore so brightly when he was around her. 

The two settled in for a night filled with laughter, shots, and scary movies as Jack cracked jokes all night, making sure that the smile on her face never left.  For once Jo didn’t feel like the day consisted of her replaying all of her past mistakes. Instead, for the first time in a long time, Halloween felt like a new beginning. 

Halloween 2025

“Oh man it is too early to be awake,” Jo’s groans echoed through the empty fire station, her feet leading her towards the soft voices she heard. “Hello? Anyone here?”

“We’re in here,” a smirk played onto Jo’s face at the sound of her boyfriend's voice, not expecting to see him today. “Hey there.”

“Hey yourself, who do you have there,” Jo walked further into the room that Jack sat in, a tiny bundle settled in his arms. She peeked over his shoulder, taking in the dark curls and soft features of the baby he held. “Well aren’t you a cutie. How long have you had her?”

“Just an hour or so, she’s been perfectly calm,” Jack looked up to Jo, gladly accepting the kiss she placed on his lips. “Usually by now they’re screaming at me, but this one hasn’t wanted anything except snuggles.”

“Maybe you’ve just got the magic touch with this one,” Jo settled into the chair across from Jack, giggling at the faces he pulled as he tried to entertain the baby. “She seems content there.”

“It sucks, she’s got no family and she doesn’t even get to celebrate her first holiday,” Jack’s finger ran across the baby’s cheek, eliciting a quiet coo from the little girl. “Oh I know sweetheart, maybe if you’re lucky the nice doctors will sneak you a lollipop.”

Jo’s heart leapt at the sight before her, fingers twisting the silver chain across her neck. She’d been to the fire station to pick up babies more than she’d like to say in the past few years, but seeing the tiny infants cradled in Jack’s arms always made her heart burst. 

“How do you feel about stealing a baby,” Jack’s eyes widened as they met Jo’s, a grin taking over her face at the shocked look he wore. “Cmon, trust me on this one. It’ll just be for a little bit, plus you’re off now right?”

“Yes, but now I’m concerned about what my girlfriend has planned for this poor innocent baby.” +

“I give you about ten minutes of this before someone calls you out and we get arrested,” Jack’s eyes nervously flitted around the bustling Peds ward. “I will give you props though, she looks pretty cute.” Jo turned from the sight of children running down the hospital halls to the infant in Jack’s arms. They’d stopped at Target before coming to the hospital, grabbing a pumpkin costume to put on the newborn before they took her around the Peds ward to trick or treat. Jack and Jo both knew that they were being a little silly, but they wanted the little girl to have at least one day where she felt loved. 

“Of course she does, she’s the cutest little baby in the world. Aren’t you Hallie? Yes you are,” Jo grabbed the infant’s foot, looking up to Jack who was staring her down with an unamused expression. “What? She needed a name and I watched Parent Trap last night. Plus it’s kind of fitting, Hallie… Halloween… Oh you’re just a party pooper!”

“Jo! What’re you doing here,” Link sauntered up to Jo and Jack with a smile, sleeping baby strapped to his chest. “Woah who's baby is that? Did you hide a pregnancy from me for nine months?” 

Jo’s eyes widened as she stared her best friend down, lightly slapping his arm, “No you idiot, this is Hallie. She’s a Safe Haven baby, but we wanted to dress her up and let her have some fun before we turned her over.”

Links gaze floated from the baby still cuddled against Jack to Jo who was perfectly settled into his side. He held his hand out, a knowing smirk on his face, “Give me your phone, I’ll take a picture of you guys.”

Without hesitation, Jo handed the object over and both her and Jack wore bright smiles as Link snapped the picture. He handed the phone back, both adults leaning in to look at the photo in awe. 

“I give you about a week,” Link chuckled, both Jo and Jack too caught up in the infant with them to notice his words. “I’ll see you guys later!”

Jo absentmindedly waved her friend off, grabbing Hallie from Jack’s arms and bringing her to her own chest. The little girl blinked up at Jo before settling contentedly against her, eyes closing in a matter of seconds. 

“You know, she seems pretty content with us,” Jo looked up from the baby to her boyfriend with wide eyes, not believing the words she was hearing. “What? She does, she’s barely cried since I got her this morning and looks so comfy snuggled up with you.” 

“You are pretty cute, I’m just gonna sneak you out and take you home,” Jo squeezed the hand of the infant, looking up at Jack who was staring at her with an awed look. “What? Do I have baby spit up on me?”

“Nothing, you just look good. You’re a natural,” Jack brought Jo back into his side, pressing a kiss to her head. “I love you.” “I love you too,” Jo laughed as the baby burped loudly before settling herself back against Jo. “And I think she likes you too.”

Halloween 2030

“Bailey, I just finished my charts and I am heading out,” Jo sighed as she set her arms on the nurses station, head leaning warily against one hand. “I’m off for the rest of the day, I’m just going to check on Mr. Olsen in the ER before I duck out. Pretty sure my kids are driving their dad nuts and the addition of sugar tonight won’t help with that.”

Bailey let a laugh out, dismissing Jo for the day and letting the younger woman know she wasn’t needed the next day. A sigh left her as she climbed into the elevator with her purse in tow, Jo finally feeling a small sense of relief. 

“You are not making my job easier, you’re much more troublesome than your brother,” Jo settled one hand onto her growing baby bump, a strong kick meeting her hand as she rolled her eyes. “Typical. You’re going to have your sister's attitude aren't you?”

The elevator dinged loudly, bringing Jo away from her conversation with her unborn child and into the real world. As she stepped off the elevator, her hands dug into her purse in search of her phone. She’d finally dug it out when she ran straight into whoever was walking in front of her. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was ju-,” the air in Jo’s lungs left suddenly, as if it had been sucked away by a vacuum as she met the eyes of the person she’d bumped into. “Oh my god. Alex.”

Alex Karev, ten years older than when she’d seen him last, was standing not even two feet in front of Jo. Her heart was hammering as she stared at her ex husband, his presence the last thing she’d expected, especially today of all days. 

“Hey Jo, good to see you,” hearing his voice almost brought tears to Jo’s eyes as she stared dumbly up at Alex. “I’m working on a case with Hayes for the week. You look good, happy… round.”

A small laugh escaped Jo then, her hand falling to her bump as she finally found her voice again, “Yeah, this one kinda popped out right away. Between that and my constant morning sickness, I couldn’t hide being pregnant for very long.”

“I’m glad, that you’re uh happy, that’s good to hear,” Jo watched Alex’s eyes flit to the wedding set on her left hand, then back up to her. 

“Mama!”

Both Alex and Jo turned toward the excited voice sounding down the hallway, a head full of black curls flying past Alex as the little girl they belonged to wrapped her arms around Jo’s legs. A second shorter head of messy brown hair crashed into Jo’s legs, laughter escaping her as she tried to wrangle both children, “Okay you two, mom can’t breathe!”

“Sorry, they escaped as soon as I walked through the door,” Jack appeared next to Jo a second later, pressing a kiss to her cheek before turning to Alex. If he was shocked to see the man, he hid it well as he extended his hand towards him. “Hey, Jack Gibson. Alex, right?” “Yeah, nice to meet you,” Alex shook Jack’s hand with a small smile, Jo’s heart skipping a beat at the unusual sight. “You guys have some good looking kids.”

Jo laughed, her face lighting up as she looked at the two children now preoccupied with a game of tag, “I can’t take all the credit, Max is Jack’s clone and Hallie just kinda… fell into our laps. She’s got my attitude though, if that counts for anything.” “That counts for everything, you know she uses that to get whatever she wants,” Jack slung his arm around Jo’s shoulder as she leaned into him, her hand coming back to her burgeoning stomach. Jo could tell Alex was watching them, but she didn’t have the words to verbalize how odd it made her feel.

“I gotta go, but it was nice to meet you Jack,” Alex waved his hand at the other man, before turning to Jo. Their eyes met for a second and it almost felt like that day eleven years ago standing in a courtroom in the most ridiculous costumes. Jo’s throat tightened as she offered a watery smile to Alex, his own eyes glassy as they finally broke away from hers. “It was good to see you again Jo, it really is good to see you happy.”

Jo could only nod, lifting her hand in a wave to Alex, “You too Alex. Have a good stay.” Alex turned and left then, Jo’s eyes watching him until he turned a corner and was out of her view. The sight tugged at her heart strangely, her mind bringing up the image of him walking into an airport so many years ago and never turning around. She doesn’t realize there’s tears floating down her face until Jack nudges her lightly. 

“You okay?” “Yeah,” Jo swipes at the tears that have pooled on her cheeks, turning to Jack with a smile. She leans up to press a kiss to his lips, holding on a bit longer than she normally would in public before pulling and meeting his green eyes with her brown. “I’m perfectly fine, just another Halloween. You guys ready to go?” Jack pauses for a moment, holding Jo’s stare before turning back to their kids who are still running around the hallway, “Yup, we just came to pick you up before we headed to Meredith’s. Hallie! Max! Let’s move it!” The two kids followed Jack and Jo out of the hospital, a string of laughter following the family as they made their way into the chilly Seattle air. Jo’s eyes lingered on the trauma bay as they left, remembering a day so long ago it felt like another lifetime when she’d first met the man she’d been married to. A swift kick to her ribs pulled her out of her thoughts, her fingers squeezing Jack’s as they made their way through the parking lot. 

Just another Halloween….

[mousehole5000]

wow i made this draft on november 1st i really took a break from this huh anyway tgcf chapters 121 - 142

i realize now this coffin scene was inevitable. feel kinda weird about hua cheng  back and forth from Teen to Big Man but it is very funny that theyre having their “dude dont look at my boner” moment while in the jaws of a water dragon

pei ming: why didnt you guys make a bigger coffin so you didnt have to squish together like that? xie lian: haha yep!! anyways what brings you here?

“In the grand, spacious centre of the entrance hall sat a person. And this person, dressed in all black, its face snow-white—was a corpse! Instantly Xie Lian shut the doors soundly.” - king of minding his own business.

okay this is where i stopped putting notes here for a while but i did save some in my e-reader so here’s some of the highlights

“Guzi used to have a good sleeping form, but perhaps with his cheap dad’s bad influence, now he was also spread out on top of Qi Rong’s stomach like a dead fish. Lang Ying himself was curled neatly in the corner, and was covered by a few shirts. Xie Lian lifted the blanket covering Qi Rong, suppressed the urge to smother his face, and covered the two small children.” - xie lian funny moments. also it would be really funny if qi rong redeems himself by learning love through these misfit chiildren and it might actually endear me to him but i hope that doesnt happen

Every heavenly official was yelling, and even Ling Wen was throwing a fit. “DON’T THROW EVERY BIT OF USELESS INFORMATION MY WAY, HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK I HAVE TO GO THROUGH EVERY DAY? DON’T YOU ALL KNOW TO USE YOUR BRAINS A LITTLE BEFORE ASKING ME?!” - ling wen marry me right now

“An expression like “seen a ghost” that only mortals experienced was now showing on his face for the first time. Shi Wudu’s pupils shrank to the smallest they could, and he blurted, “You’re still alive?!” “I’m dead!” He Xuan said coldly.” - okay everythings going tits up rn but i did laugh

i did see spoilers re: ming yi/he xuan reveal + shi wudu’s fate beforehand so i dont have a genuine reaction other than oh shit

“He slowly enunciated each word. “I won’t touch your fate. But, here in this place, chop off your brother’s head for me.”  CLANG! He threw a rusty blade onto the ground. Shi Qingxuan stared at that blade, his eyes wide. He Xuan continued, “Then, never show yourself before me again, and I will pretend you’ve never existed in this world.” - okay idk what else is going to happen but rn im concerned that this is like the 2nd biggest ship. i guess we’ll see?? i mean i am really curious whats going to happen to them. shi qingxuan keeps calling he xuan “ming-xiong” and i... sad

shi wudu im not really invested in you as a character but these next two bits... interesting

“If I don’t die but have nothing, then that’s truly a fate worse than death. If I’m not the Water God, I can’t take care of you. I won’t even be able to protect myself. I’m scared that we won’t even last two days…TAKE IT!” - damn. something about the wealthy losing everything and not knowing how to live without it bc thats their entire life and identity

“EVERYTHING I HAVE TODAY, I FOUGHT FOR MYSELF. I WILL FIGHT FOR WHAT I DON’T HAVE. I WILL CHANGE FATE I DON’T POSSESS. MY FATE IS UP TO ME AND NOT THE HEAVENS!” - okay so the whole committing spiritual fraud by tormenting a man and his family to get your brother a cushy title thing aside this was kind of badass. heretical? possibly. but still. also is he intentionally riling up he xuan so sqx doesnt have to kill him? if so damn...

also okay as long as im here im just gonna say it. the choice that he xuan gives shi qingxuan is fucking brutal but i actually think its probably as fair as it could be. sqx didnt know about or participate in what happened to hx but they did benefit from it greatly while hx lost EVERYTHING and i can understand he xuan’s thinking of “if you really feel bad for what happened to me then you have to make a sacrifice and understand the suffering and this is as clean as its going to get” and theres a bit where sqx is trying to beg for mercy but cant get the words out which im guessing is bc theres no good argument!! what happened was fucked up!!

“When Pei Ming saw that reinforcements had arrived, he didn’t appear particularly delighted; instead he threw the sword into the ground, then rubbed his nose and said, sounding grim, “You all just had to come just as I finished making these, what the heck.” - pei ming making coffins chopping down trees with his sword i love it #wastehistime2k17

“Xie Lian brought that basket of eggs along, and gave them away as souvenirs from the mortal realm. Many who received the eggs were overjoyed; some deciding to eat it along with their own blood, and some proclaiming they would hatch an eight-foot monster.” - GHOST CITY GHOST CITY

“Placing the brush down, he blew lightly at the ink and smiled. “If I like something, then my heart will not have room for any other, and I’ll always treasure it. A thousand times, a million times, no matter how many years, this will not change. This poem is the same." - thats nice and all but king... get therapy. i actually have further thoughts but tbh i dont want to put them into words bc they are simply too personal! moving on

didnt take any notes but somewhere in here was the bit with mount tong’lu opening and hua cheng losing it and kind of um. hm. that scene. thats another trope i really hate tbh i dont care for it as a way of including physical intimacy between characters and idk if it really ever adds anything but whatever moving on

The Half-Maquillage Woman - kind of interesting monster idea bc women and aging…. yeah. however i think this would be a lot stronger if there were a) more girls and this was b) discussed or illustrated at all prior to this moment. still interesting that its included knowing the author is a woman tho and there’s been comments on how ling wen is perceived vs pei ming. this book does keep giving me hope for interesting female character arcs i really want it to deliver something

quan yizhen..... i get u

lmao i have a note on a bit with lang ying that says “please dont be hc in disguise” and..... my clown nose was on but at least i knew that. for real this is bothering me how much he’s just. always. there. i know he’s a lead but we didn’t really need him around for a lot of this. oh well.  okay now to my current notes

“Yet it was precisely because it wasn’t cooked that it had to be eaten quickly. Once Xie Lian cooked it, it wouldn’t be edible anymore” - fucking fantastic

“Xie Lian hugged his belly. “Of course! Only after having met you did I rediscover that it’s such a simple thing to be happy, hahaha…” Hearing this, Hua Cheng blinked. Xie Lian’s laughter quieted a bit, realizing what he just said was a little too revealing.” - okay i know i said what i said about being tired of hua cheng being everywhere but... the line…. the fact that theyre laughing together…. :pleading:

“It’s not,” Ling Wen said. “At least, I believe, there will definitely not be another in history who can create a dish called ‘Incorruptible Chastity Meatballs’” - and truer words were never spoken

“I, DO NOT WORSHIP GODS. “I, AM GOD!” - this was every bit as badass as i hoped but no one told me it was immediately followed up by a little bit of the ol dinner theater fjalkdsfjsd. also puqi shrine noooooooooo

“Xie Lian sighed as he thought, “Qi Rong has taken Guzi away, who knows if the poor child was eaten or abandoned. Wind Master...... ..... who knows if Black Water took him away. Pray they’re both safe.” yeah hey are we going to fucknig. find out what happened to the child???

and yeah i dooooont really care for the age regression? thing thats going on. i just dont like that trope tbh. but tiny hua cheng whipping out his fat ghost king wallet in the store was funny tho. it is really funny that hualian are just like wandering around some random towns while the heavens are in an uproar. i guess theres not much else to do but its funny

“Me too, me too. You all know of my shixiong, right? Talented, with an infinite future! He only had one small vice: he loved playing women. Decades ago, a little prostitute ghost seduced my shixiong and sucked him dry into human jerky, and that Hua, Hua, Hua, that ghost king dared shelter her.” - yes omg give me the forbidden hua cheng lore i love this for him for real it goes along nicely with xie lian’s principles about giving another cup. god i love shared values

“Hua Cheng poked again, and a small hole appeared on the wall, as if the wall was made of tofu.” - how’d he do that. why is this a ghost king power. its useful tho

*me shaking qi rong when he pops up* WHERE IS THE CHILD

mu qing fu yao is here okay im happy now. once again no one has a good grasp on their secret identity and i love that. this inn has descended into chaos and im delighted and im glad lan chang is back

“The good ol’ kitchen was suddenly squished and crowded, loud and noisy. Fu Yao was chasing that fetus spirit leaping up and down, Lan Chang was chasing after Fu Yao like she had gone mad. Half of Qi Rong’s face changed shape by the way Xie Lian was pressing him down on the chopping board, his back turning into a target for those yellow talismans Fu Yao hurled while being observed by a crowd, and Lan Chang would step on him from time to time.” - this is pure chaos. i love that mu qing was in that room when the mob checked and he didnt say a word didnt open the door just sent out a talisman as a warning. king your disguise is transparent

“Xie Lian remembered the way Feng Xin laughed until he was hoarse when he first heard that verbal password all those years back, and couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, even though it wasn’t the right time.” - awwwww omg im emotional about this... faithful friend feng xin laughing at xie lian’s stupid joke password and remembering it!!! ;_;

“They have, but they’re not effective,” Feng Xin said. “Usually they’re the most diligent in scorning the Palace of Ling Wen, like they could do the job way better if they had the position. Now that we need them to take up the task, not a single one can do even half of what she does.” - typical... typical typical typical

also emotional about the fact that feng xin contacted xie lian at all.....

also!! emotional about lan chang as a mom and wanting to help out sick lil guzi.....

xie lian forcing “fu yao” to let him help “his general” is making me.... what is friendship if not playing along with your buddies little shenanigans while also making them accept your help

“Someone like Mu Qing, even though he’s narrow-minded, petty, sensitive and skeptical, has a bad personality, constantly guessing, doesn’t say nice things, likes to nag, always offending people and has a lot of people who dislike him, has no friends, can remember small, unimportant details for a long period of time…” ”Xie Lian went on in one breath with a straight face, but in the end he concluded with, “...But I’ve known him since we were kids, after all, he’s still got principles.” - XIE LIAN PLEASE AFJDLKSFJDL omg ive seen this quote before but i figured he was talking to someone else not actually to mu qing himself fgjasdkfjsl. god thats amazing. hey im gonna help you out because i care but i will roast you first <3

waaaaaait so is lan chang aka jian lan that girl from book 2 we took a page to talk about and then disappeared? that has to be it why else would we have stopped to discuss her

“Jian Lan spat on his face, then choking his neck, she slapped him twice again. “WHAT SHITTY SUPREME! YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO BLOW YOURSELF UP! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, THINK YOU’RE EVEN WORTH TO BE THOUGHT OF AS EQUALS WITH THE OTHER THREE SUPREMES? WHAT ARE YOU EVEN GOOD AT? YOUR THICK SKIN? OF COURSE I DARE HIT YOU!” - oh this feels so good i cant lie. YES GET HIM!! CHOMPING AND VIOLENCE YES!!!!

okay this description of cuocuo.... im... that sure the hell is a creature

this book is so entertaining bc i already saw spoilers for the feng xin/jian lan/cuo cuo reveal and yet i could never have predicted the circumstances that brought it about. imagine being feng xin. the heavens are in an uproar and your only friend/enemy has been jailed for possible fetus spirit-related crimes but he escapes along with this female ghost who keeps causing problems. you figure “fuck it lets see if dianxia kept his old phone number” and he has but then he hangs up on you. you’ve got fuckall else to do so you go find him. mu qing is there but he’s in his disguise the two of you were using so you could watch over his highness while staying aloof. you think you see hua cheng only he’s a chiild for some goddamn reason but who knows at this point. the female ghost is also there and theres a fetus spirit climbing trees and biting your arrows in half. you realize the female ghost is your ex and the little demon is your son. it bites you. what do you do

amazing that despite everything going on everyone is still playing along with the “fu yao” persona when it would probably be easier to drop pretenses at this point. then again tbh if i could explain my actions to my friends while pretending to be a third party.... i probably would so.. carry on

“With all his devotees gone, only Feng Xin still treated him like the Flower-Crowned Martial God and His Highness the Crown Prince. ” “...his protection charms were all seen as trash. However, Feng Xin was still determined and tireless in handing them out; telling Xie Lian, look, you still have devotees.” “After all, he was the darling of the heavens since birth, high and mighty. Feng Xin so naturally spun around him like he was the world, so how could he possibly have his own life, his own heart” “Whether or not that fetus spirit was Feng Xin’s son, if it was that period of poverty that made Feng Xin lose the girl he loved, Xie Lian wouldn’t be able to forgive himself no matter what." ohhhh my god this relationship i. im...

oh my god i still have 30 more chapters until book 4............ its naptime now i think

[mrs--wheels]

I made a human.

Yes, I made a human.  I gave birth to a baby boy!  Here’s my birth story: On Wednesday July 14th I went for my routine 36 week OB-Gyn checkup.  At that visit they did a sonogram and everything looked normal, baby was in the 46th percentile for size.  The Dr. checked my cervix and I was 2 cm dilated already.  My blood pressure was high, which it had been for 6 weeks, but I did not have preeclampsia (yet - I was borderline.)  The Dr. took me off work and said if I did not deliver by next week Thursday July 22 I would need to be induced.  My blood pressure was causing really bad swelling everywhere in my body, but especially my calves, ankles, feet and wrists.  I weighed 251 lbs at the checkup, about 55 lbs heavier than my pre-pregnancy weight.  So I went into work with my disability form all filled out and basically peaced out, said goodbye to a few of my coworkers and my boss, and I ain’t lookin’ back.  I went home, much to my husband’s surprise (he was working from home that day.)  I’d like to say I enjoyed the last week of my pregnancy but that’s not entirely true.  I was in terrible discomfort, especially my pelvis: I was having bad pelvic pain & pressure, so bad I could barely walk. The night of Monday July 19th I could hardly walk up the stairs to my bed, it hurt so bad.  I did have surprisingly restful night’s sleep that night, which was good because of what was to come... At 5 am on Tuesday July 20th, I rolled over in bed and felt a wetness.  Unsure if I peed myself or if my water broke, I went into the bathroom.  Clear fluid was running down my legs, and it didn’t smell like pee.  The puddle on my sheets didn’t either.  I called the OB-Gyn’s office from the bathroom. and the Dr. on call told me if contractions started on their own to head into the hospital.  If they didn’t start on their own, head in anyway but wait until after 8:30, 9 am.  So I took a shower, made some toast & a banana for breakfast, and unloaded the dishwasher.  Around 6 am I had my first contractions, but they weren’t too strong and they were about 7 or 8 minutes apart.  I woke up my husband and told him I thought my water broke, and I was having contractions.  He leapt out of bed and into the shower.  As I lay on the bed waiting for him, the contractions were coming closer together (4-5 minutes apart) and getting stronger.  My husband got dressed and I called my mom.  She said she’d meet us at the hospital and we grabbed the overnight bags and diaper bag and went straight to the hospital. My husband drove like a panicked maniac, and I was gritting my teeth in the passenger seat with every contraction.  We got to the hospital and I refused to let my husband get me a wheelchair, I wanted to walk in on my own.  I had a contraction in the parking lot and barely made it to the 2nd floor to Labor & Delivery.  By now it was around 7:30 am.  They took me into a triage room for a  workup, I changed into a gown, and a nurse put the fetal heart monitor on me.  I got to listen to that little galloping horse heartbeat, nice and strong.  In came a Dr. and 2 students, they did a history on me and after a very uncomfy pelvic exam it was determined I was 8 cm dilated and fully effaced!  (The student who first checked me said I was 4 cm... the actual Dr determined it was 8... kind of a big difference!)  The contractions were pretty much on top of each other by now, only a minute apart.  I was moved straight into the delivery room, without stopping in a labor room first. This was at around 9:30 am maybe? I got to 10 cm in less than than 2 hours, and ready to push.  I didn’t even have a hospital bracelet or an IV, things were moving way too fast.  The Dr. showed up fully gowned, and they got me on the table and ready to go.  This was the first time my mom was able to see me, she’d been waiting over an hour, since I was expected to be in labor a lot longer! I was ready to push at just before 10 am and I was absolutely terrified, I was so not ready.  I had a birth plan packed in my overnight bag.  In it, I requested an epidural.  I wanted pain meds, to be able to sleep and rest during labor... My husband brought his laptop, we had a bluetooth speaker ready to play music in the delivery room... All of this was shot right out the window.  I was terrified of the prospect of pushing, terrified of the pain.  I felt like I had to take a massive poop, and even screamed “I’m gonna poop!” in the delivery room.  My mom and the Dr were like “Just do it! That’s the baby coming out!”  I pushed maybe a dozen times? Twice for every contraction.  I squeezed my husband’s hand and felt my mom’s hand on my forehead.  I was drenched in sweat from head to toe and shaking like crazy.  They told me not to scream, that I was wasting energy I needed to funnel into pushing -  but, like, ok, it hurts!  I was hurling 4-letter words (and I never swear around my mom,) and gripping onto the back of the pillow under my head (which didn’t help the poor nurse still trying to stick an IV in my arm - they blew a vein in my left hand and ended up putting the IV in my right wrist - normally I’m bad with needles but I was in so much pain I didn’t even care.)  The fetal heart monitor wasn’t working anymore, because the baby was moving down the birth canal.  The excess skin & fluid on my lower abdomen made it difficult to get a reading, so a nurse was literally pushing the monitor hard into my belly, while I was trying to push at the same time.  Eventually they used an internal monitor, this thing that looks like a cattle prod that attached to the top of the baby’s head, under the scalp, through the cervix.  Luckily I didn’t know that had happened until after he was born. After about 15 minutes of pushing, and my poor crying husband looking like he was about to pass out (he hates seeing me in pain.) I gave birth to a baby boy at 10:14 am.  It’s the most bizarre feeling in the world: like I was a bottle of champagne and he was the cork.  I could feel everything since I had no drugs, the baby’s head and shoulders popping out and the gush of fluids afterwards. I did need a few stitches, I had a second degree tear, but I never felt that or the placenta being delivered. The whole room was in a flurry, there was at least 1 dozen people there - the Dr, an instructor, several students, nurses and my mom & husband.  I was the talk of labor & delivery that day: the first-timer who came in at 7:30 and had a baby less than 3 hours later.  The baby was put right on my chest after he was born.  I had my eyes closed pretty much the entire time I had been pushing, but I opened them when I felt that warm, wiggly little baby on me.  He was absolutely beautiful, rosy pink and screaming.  My husband said he was born with his eyes open, arms and legs flailing, and a very healthy set of lungs.  He scored a 9 on his one-minute Apgar and a 9 on the 5-minute too: the highest score you can get!  He weighed 6 lbs, 8 oz and was 20.25 inches long.  My husband cut the cord (squeamishly) and my mom and him just gushed over this perfect little guy.  I was exhausted but exhilarated, I felt triumphant!  I had given birth with no drugs, all natural, and made it out to tell the tale. I had no idea my body was capable of that, but it knew more than I did.... We (me, my mom, and my husband) were able to stay in the delivery room for 2 hours after the baby’s birth.  We finally agreed on a name (well, I proposed the name and wouldn’t take no for an answer - after all, who had just given birth anyways?)  We decided on Owen Paul.  Owen because I love the name and it means “warrior”, and Paul after my brother who passed away 19 years ago.  It somehow fits him perfectly, he looks like an Owen.  He’s got beautiful red-gold hair that swirls on his head, and dark blue eyes that I’m hoping stay that color.  I was able to start nursing him right away (my nursing journey is a story for another time, though...) and we were all able to bond.  It was a wonderful experience, and it is true what they say: you forget all the pain once you lay eyes on the little miracle.  Maybe it’s the huge rush of hormones that causes this amnesia, but it really is true.  I’d do it all over again!

I’ve lost nearly all the weight I gained during pregnancy, since it was pretty much all baby, placenta, amniotic fluid and the fluid that was blowing me up like a balloon.  I’m not in any pain, even with the stitiches. I only took a few Tylenol the first couple of days, I guess I have a pretty high tolerance!  I’m feeling good, all things considered, and healthy.  It’s nice not to have that constant pelvic pain anymore. Owen is going to be 2 weeks old tomorrow, and it’s been a huge adjustment (an obvious understatement.)  The days are long, but the years will be short - everyone tells me that.  It’s frustrating, and miserable and so so so tiring.  But they are only babies for such a short time, I plan on enjoying every minute of him!  He’s the best thing I’ve ever made.

[kumeko]

A/N: Written for the @dragonkirizine. I wanted to do an adventure story, though it’s been ages since I wrote one of those so this was a little challenging.

Summary: Eijiro and Mina stared at the hieroglyphics on the wall, not certain if those were clues to some ancient treasure or just some dead dude’s homework. Maybe they should have asked Izuku to tag along after all.

…

…

…

…

“I don’t get it.” Eijiro raised his torch higher, squinting at the hieroglyphics on the wall in front of him. At least, he was pretty sure they were hieroglyphics. Carved figures on crumbling walls inside an ancient ruin? Really faded paintings that didn’t make sense? They had to be hieroglyphics.

 Or maybe it was some ancient dude’s homework. Eijiro chuckled at the idea. “Hey, Mina?”

 Standing on the opposite of the ruin, his partner looked over her shoulder. As usual, she was dressed for adventure: canvas shorts with plenty of pockets, a sporty t-shirt, and a backpack full of tools. It made him feel a little less prepared, but then again, Eijiro was dragon-kin.

 He was always prepared.

 A lollipop hung loosely on her lips and Mina cocked her head. “Yeah?”

“What if everyone’s wrong about this place? Like, if this was actually just some guy’s outhouse?” Eijiro’s shoulders shook as he laughed, his tail swaying slowly behind him.

 Her lollipop almost fell out of her mouth as she considered it. Almost immediately, she recoiled closer to the wall, disgust on her face as she quickly scanned the ground. “Ewwww.”

 “I’m not…” Wait, now that he thought about it, that was pretty disgusting. Quickly, he stepped back, taking a deep breath as he tried to catch a whiff of…actually, he didn’t want to smell it. Luckily, there was nothing in the air but scent of old. Which was definitely a scent, no matter how many times Mina stared at him incredulously. It was a mix of dust, mold, and something Eijiro couldn’t quite describe.

 It was just old.

 “I don’t see anything,” Mina whispered as she peered into the ruin. She moved the torch from side to side, the light revealing and hiding broken tablets and patches of grass. Gingerly, she stepped forward once, twice, before looking up at him. “I think we’re safe.”

 “Yeah, I don’t smell anything either.” Relaxing, his shoulders slumped and he snorted. “I mean, who’d make something this big just to shit in?”

 “Yeah, that was stupid.” Mina giggled, stretching an arm above her. “Man, though, if you were right and this was just someone’s toilet or barn or whatever, could you imagine Deku’s face?”

 Eijiro burst into laughter, already picturing their bookworm friend and the exact shade of red he’d turn. “And Iida? He’d faint.”

 “He’d die!” Mina crowed and it was too much. All it took was a single glance at each other and they were both in tears, their laughter the only sound in this abandoned ruin. It echoed in the cavernous chamber, bouncing off the walls and through the broken ceiling.

 Wiping his tears with a clawed hand, Eijiro sighed. “I wish he was here.”

 “Yeah.” Mina pouted, crossing her arms and leaning against a stone pillar. “I can’t make heads or tails of this place.” She frowned, a thought coming to her. “You don’t think we’re in the wrong business?”

 “Maybbeee?” Eijiro rubbed his neck awkwardly. They weren’t exactly the brainiest of their friends. The most enthusiastic, sure. The most adventurous, definitely. But searching ruins needed some level of smarts and they’d both failed every history class they’d ever been in. Still, this was what they wanted to do. This was what they did. There was no time to doubt it now. Slapping his cheeks, he declared, “It’s not manly to look back!”

 Mina stared at him for a long moment. His cheeks reddened, slightly embarrassed, until she nodded eagerly and stepped forward. “Yeah! We’re going to find treasure!”

 “And we’re gonna—” As Eijiro took a step forward himself, he tripped over a rock and sprawled face first on the floor. Luckily, even in his half-human form, his skin was as hard as dragon scales and all he had was an aching nose. “Ouch.”

 “Are you okay?” Mina hurried toward him but froze as they heard a slow grinding noise. Turning toward it, she gasped in surprise as a wall slide open, revealing a secret passageway. She blinked once, twice, and then pumped her fist in the air. “We’re totally great treasure hunters!”

 -x-

 “Do you think this goes on forever?” Mina whispered, holding her torch in front of her to light the way. As usual, she was leading. Despite her fears, she always did that. There was something comforting about the shape of her back, in how the flickering light gave her hair a reddish hue.

 Brave was what he had called her.

 She had always laughed it off, declaring herself more foolish than anything else.

 It was the only thing they really fought over, the only time their disagreements had any bite. Well, that and the fact that he wanted to lead more often. It just made sense—he was almost injury-proof and she was decidedly not. Saving the argument for later, he peered out into the near-darkness. It was easier for him to see than her, to make out the shapes in the dark.

 Unfortunately, this was a tunnel and the shapes were just more wall, more of the path sloping downward and away. The walls weren’t even interesting, just smoothened dirt. “It has to lead somewhere.”

 “I don’t want to be a skeleton when we get there,” Mina hissed, her voice low. Their shadows danced on the wall.

 “Why are you whispering?” Eijiro asked, raising his voice an octave when he realized he was doing the same.

 “It just…” Mina cleared her throat and continued, her voice now at normal speaking levels. “It just felt like I should whisper.”

 That he could understand. Their footsteps were muffled in the tunnel, which was kinda impressive considering Eijiro couldn’t walk quietly to save his life. “I just hope we get somewhere more open soon—my wings are cramping.”

 “They look uncomfortable, folded like that.” Mina nodded sympathetically. Her torch blew out and he watched as she jumped. “Whaaat was that?” she squeaked, trying not to scream.

 Eijiro blinked in the absolute darkness. Without any light, he was now as blind as Mina and a shiver ran up his spine. Actually, now that he thought about it, he could feel a slight breeze, the real cause for his shiver. Might even be the reason the fire went out. Too bad he couldn’t breath fire as a human, or this wouldn’t have been a problem. “Think we’re near the end of the tunnel.”

 He took a step forward, his tail dragging behind him as he did. A soft click echoed through the tunnel.

 “Click?” Mina repeated slowly, dragging the word out.

 Before he could say anything, he heard a heavy thud behind him, followed by a rolling sound. Something was coming. Something big. And it was picking up speed. Groping blindly in front of him, his hand managed to brush Mina’s back. “Hold on!” he shouted, sweeping her off her feet before sprinting forward.

 “What are you do—” Hearing the sound too, Mina shut up quickly and wrapped her arms around his neck as she clung for dear life. “It’s getting closer!”

 “Fuck!” Eijiro powered on, pushing his legs harder than he’d down before. Breathing heavily, he sprinted through the dark tunnel. His sides bumped into the tunnel walls. Mina squeezed her arms tighter around him. He took a deep breath and picked up the pace.

 There, just ahead of him, he could make out a faint light. “There’s a light!”

 “Maybe it’s a cavern!” Mina shouted, a vein of nervousness in her voice. “I think it’s almost caught up!”

 “We’re almost there!” Eijiro grunted as he forced his legs to move faster, further. If only he could have used his wings. The light ahead grew brighter and bigger, taking up the entire exit. Squinting, he could barely make out crystal walls and a pool of water. Speeding through the exit, he relaxed his shoulders slightly as he entered the large cavern. “We can—”

 His feet weren’t on the ground anymore. Eijiro blinked, barely registering the fact before gravity kicked in and they plummeted to the ground. “WHAT THE FUCK?”

 The air stole his words. Above, he could hear a crashing sound as their chaser appeared above: a giant boulder, which shot over the gap and crashed onto the ground on the opposite side. The crevasse they were in was starting to narrow and he wondered what would come first: they’d get squished or they’d splatter on the ground.

 Clinging tightly, Mina screamed, “YOUR WINGS!”

 “WHAT?” The words ran through his head twice before he understood. Right. He had wings. He could fly. Unfurling them, he furiously flapped them, trying to gain enough lift that they wouldn’t splat on the ground. His shoulders strained as he managed both of their weights.

 Mina whispered something, her voice too soft for him to hear. He could only feel her hot breath on his neck, her lips brushing his pulse once. Like a bolt of lightning, energy shot through him and suddenly everything felt light. He soared up through the narrow crevasse, shooting up until he finally reached the ledge they’d fallen off. Landing safely on the other side, he almost collapsed as the energy left him.

 “That…was close,” he panted, crouching.

 “Way too close.” Mina slipped out of his arms, but her hands stayed on his shoulders. “You okay?”

 “Yeah.” Taking a deep breath, he calmed his breathing and stood up straight. He frowned as he wiped his brow. “Did you give me your energy?”

 Mina nodded. Before he could say anything, she defended herself, “Hey, it was an emergency. Either I pony up or we become pancakes.”

 “But…” Eijiro puffed his cheeks, not liking this at all. Which was worse, that she was right or that he needed the help in the first place? “How’re you feeling?”

 “Not bad.” As though to prove it, Mina pumped a fist in the air. However, her energetic response did little to hide the weariness in her eyes. “I got plenty of juice to spare. If you need it.”

 “Mina,” Eijiro growled, grabbing her arm. “Don’t lie.”

 “I’m not.” Mina frowned, glaring back at him. “What about you?” She gestured at his shoulder with her free hand. “Don’t think I can’t feel it! You hurt yourself!”

 He blanched and looked away. This was maybe the worst part about their connection; he could never hide an injury from her. “That’s different.”

 “How?” Mina yanked her hand free and crossed her arms. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

 “…sorry.” Eijiro sighed, folding his wings. It ached slightly as he did so and he winced. “I might have pulled a muscle. Or two.”

 “It was a huge fall.” Content now, she walked behind him and pressed her hands against his shoulder blades, at the connection between wing and flesh. Her fingers prodded and smoothened his muscles and she gently chided him. “You know you can’t lie about this. My shoulder hurts too.”

 “Thanks.” He closed his eyes, relaxing into her touch. “But you can’t lie either.”

 Her hands stilled for a moment, and she sighed. “Okay, okay. I’m a little tired,” she admitted. She pinched her fingers together, waving it in front of his face. “Just a little, okay?”

 A little meant a lot. They’d been partners long enough that he could see the signs, read between the lines. Eijiro glanced around. The cavern they were in was a huge one, as big as forest almost. The walls were lined with crystals, faintly glowing in the dark, and a stream bubbled out of one side of the area. It criss-crossed merrily through the room before exiting on the other side. Just ahead, he could see where the boulder had crashed.

 There were no signs of any animals, any visitors, anything. They might have been the first people to visit here in centuries.

 All of which made it a safe spot to rest. “Let’s take a break.”

 “It’s not that bad,” Mina insisted, proudly. She took a wobbly step forward and he rushed to her side to keep her steady. “Uh…okay.” She tried to take another step, but her body was starting to shut down fast. “Maybe…maybe I do need a nap.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leaning on him for support. “Sorry.”

 “It’s not your fault.” Scooping her up, Eijiro grinned brightly. “We’re partners, right? You can rely on me.”

 “Yeah.” She nodded, her eyes slowly fluttering shut. “Thanks.”

 -x-

 Eijiro.

 Lying on the ground, stunned, Eijiro couldn’t place the familiar voice. All he could feel was pain, his entire body burning like every inch of his skin was on fire. His chest felt wet as he stared up at the sky. Raising a hand, his eyes widened as he realized it was blood.

 His blood.

 He was hurt.

 Eijiro!

 The voice again. Painfully, he turned his head slightly. Mina raced toward him, worry etched on her face. Her left arm dangled awkwardly as she moved and he realized with a start it was broken. How? He had been in his dragon form and she’d been on his back and…

 And he wasn’t in his dragon form now, he realized. He had skin instead of scales. Whatever had hurt him had shocked him back into his human form. They must have plummeted from the sky, Mina falling off him as they spiraled through the ground.

 Sorry, he croaked, his voice a wet rasp. He could taste metal in his mouth, blood dribbling down his lips. Fuck he hurt. Around him, he could make out the signs of battle, hear Bakugou’s angry roar and Kaminari’s lightning strikes.

 They were in a fight. For something. For someone. His head ached, making it hard for him to focus. Sorry.

 Stop apologizing! Mina snapped, suddenly by his side. Her hands cradled his head, her eyes full of tears. Shit. Shit. Shit.

 He must have looked as bad as he felt. Eijiro winced as he breathed, his broken ribs constricting as he tried to breath in. I…

 Don’t talk, just… Mina trailed off, not sure what to say. What to do. You…you’ll make it. I know you will. She cradled her head. There’s gotta be something. Think. Think.

 He was dying. Oh god, he was dying. Eijiro wanted to move, to run from it all, but he could barely feel his arms, let alone his legs. A droplet of water landed on his face, then another, and he could only stare as tears streamed down Mina’s face. Forcing his hand to move, he clumsily wiped her cheek, leaving a bloody streak. It’s okay.

 It’s not. Mina bit her lip before gasping. A pact. We have to make a pact.

 A pac—no. Realizing what she meant, he shook his head. Or at least tried to. You can’t—Mina, that’d mean—

 That’d mean you live, Mina stated firmly, pulling out a knife from her pouch. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself before cutting her palm.

 Don’t, he repeated weakly. It was harder to see now, the edges of his sight filled with black.

 It’ll be okay, she reassured, pressing her hand against his wound. It’ll be like an adventure.

 Ignoring his protests, she started to chant.

 -x-

 Eijiro woke up with a start, a ‘Don’t’ still on his lips. He’d passed out after she’d recited the spell, the blood loss too much. By the time he’d woken up, it’d been too late.

 Mina had created a blood pact with him, connecting her life with his.

 Calming his breathing, Eijiro glanced down at his partner, still asleep in his arms. It was hard to tell the time in here, this underground cavern didn’t have any convenient holes to check the sun. They could have slept for an hour or entire day for all he knew. Either way, Mina had lied earlier—he’d taken too much of her energy.

 As usual. Keeping an arm still wrapped around her shoulders, Eijiro brushed her pink bangs out of her face. His fingers hovered over her horns, the most visible sign of their bond. Her hair had always been pink, but there was more of a reddish-hue to it these days. Maybe it was a sign of his energy flowing back into her. He hoped it was the case. He’d heard enough stories of bonded partners dying young, of reckless dragons taking too much energy and sucking their lovers dry.

 Treasure hunting was supposed to be safe. Away from Bakugou’s endless wars, from Deku’s constant crusades. It was supposed to be safe and yet here they were again. It wasn’t manly to keep regretting something, to keep lingering on the past, but somehow he couldn’t move forward from that one action.

 If only he’d been more careful. If only he’d been less brash. If only, if only.

 Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead gently. “I’m sorry.”

 -x-

 “Eijiro?” Blearily, Mina opened her eyes with a yawn. She curled up into his chest, pressing a sleepy kiss against his skin. “You okay?”

 “Of course.” Eijiro forced a chuckle, pulling back to better see her face. Good. Her complexion was much better now. “You?”

 “Yeah.” Stretching, she slowly rolled out of his arms with a shudder and landed on the hard ground. “Yeowch.” She stared up at the ceiling. “We’re not home.”

 “Nope,” Eijiro confirmed, resting his cheek on his hand. He watched her worriedly, but she didn’t show any signs of sluggishness either.

 “Where—oh! The treasure.” Immediately, Mina sat up, her eyes bright and awake. She shook her head once, twice, and then bounced to her feet. “We’re out of the tunnel now.”

 “Yeah but I’m not sure where to go next.” Standing up, he gestured around them. They had an unobstructed view of the whole cavern. Crystals lined the walls, giving him just enough light to make out the general shape of the area. Borrowing his abilities, Mina would be able to see just what he did: unbroken walls, not a single tunnel leading out. It was effectively a dead end. “Maybe there isn’t any treasure here.”

 Mina looked around thoughtfully before shaking her head. “No, there is. My gut says so. And we also did not spend all that time for nothing!” She grabbed his hand, leading the way. “Come on, we have to start searching.”

 -x-

 “Are you still sure?” Eijiro frowned as he patted the wall for the 100th time. No, maybe the 1000th time. All he found was more rocks, more crystals, more nothing. He was a fairly optimistic man, but even he had his limits.

 “Not so much…” Mina sighed, tapping a pink gem. “Though, you know.” She smiled sweetly. “This is kinda romantic.”

 Eijiro stared at her blankly. “Huh?”

 “Kinda like a candlight dinner, those kinda vibes.” She bumped shoulders with him. “You know, mood lighting. And it’s just you, and me here.” Mina batted her eyes, her lips curved into a sexy smile. Lowering her lids, she added, “No one to see us.”

 His face burned red. “I—”

 “Oh!” Mina dashed forward, forgetting him entirely as she squinted at a part of the wall. “I think I found it.”

 He was never sure if she was teasing or serious. Both. Probably both. Biting back his frustration, Eijiro rushed to her side. Next to a row of crystals, almost hidden in the shadow they made, was a smaller tunnel than the one they’d entered before. It was more a crevice than anything else, barely big enough to fit one person at a time. “You sure?”

 “Yeah, squint a little. Deeper in, don’t you see a bit of light?” Mina moved over slightly, offering him a better view.

 Poking his head in reluctantly, Eijiro squinted. There was darkness, more darkness, and—well, maybe if he turned his head slightly and opened his eyes a crack, he saw a tiny speck of light. Though that could just be his eyes playing tricks on him. “Kinda.”

 “Let’s find out what it is!”

 Before Mina could march inside, Eijiro quickly stepped in front of her. “I’ll go first.”

 “Whaaaat?” Mina puffed her cheeks grumpily, giving him a baleful glare. “Come on, it’s my discovery!”

 “It’s still yours! But I can fight off traps.” He shot her confident grin as he persuaded her. “Come on, you gotta let me do my part. That’s what I’m here for, right?”

 “…just remember to lift your tail this time,” she grumbled, letting him go.

 He made it a point to lift his tail, waving it directly in her face until she batted it away with a laugh. Fortunately, this tunnel was much shorter than the other one, the speck of light growing bigger and bigger until it revealed another, smaller cavern. This one looked almost man made, the crystals brighter in here. In the center of the room, on a pedestal, was a glowing orb.

 A bright, green, floating orb.

 “Is that magic?” Eijiro muttered, transfixed.

 Before he could take a step forward, Mina wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight. “Wait!” she hissed, freezing him in place. She poked her head around his body, her eyes darting around the room. “There’s probably a trap here. Something deadly, I bet.”

 Remembering the giant ball earlier and spiky pit, Eijiro swallowed. Right. Dangerous place full of dangerous traps. He scanned the walls, squinting at the crystals and cracks that laced the walls, damaging the carvings on them. The whole room felt abandoned, forgotten from time. “See anything?”

 “Not really.” She bit her cheek, frowning as she examined the floor. “It’s really old.”

 “Yeah. I feel like we’re gonna fall through the floor anytime.” Eijiro shuddered as he stared at the small crevasses on the floor. Just how stable was this whole thing in the first place? It felt like they were one hard jump away from everything breaking underneath their feet.

 “Just don’t turn into a dragon, okay?” Mina requested shakily, gulping audibly at the thought. “You’ll wreck the whole place.”

 “A cave-in…” Rocks on his back, dirt weighing him down, unable to escape, unable to breathe. Eijiro swallowed. He wasn’t entirely claustrophobic, but he much preferred the wide, open spaces of the sky. To die like that, to die underground—nope, he wasn’t going to let that happen. “Definitely not.”

 “Oh!” Mina exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly. She tugged on his sleeve, pointing at the ceiling. “There’re tiny holes up there!”

 Eijiro stared at the rock ceiling. The solid rock ceiling. “Huh?”

 “Squint, you dummy. It’s really tiny holes.” She pinched two fingers together. “Like, this tiny.”

 He narrowed his eyes, eyes straining as he tried to make out the tiny holes. Or at least, discern what was a tiny hole and what was just a small dip in the ceiling or a natural crevasse or—“Oh.” Now that he’d spotted one, he could see them all, tiny holes littering the ceiling. The holes continued down the side of the wall. “Arrows?”

 “Probably. Don’t know what else is that small.” Mina picked up a pebble off the ground and threw it through the air. It landed on the ground with a soft thud.

 Nothing happened.

 “Maybe it’s not heavy enough?” Eijiro suggested, picking up a bigger rock. Throwing it, he repeated the experiment.

 Again, nothing happened.

 “That’s so weird.” Mina fumed, stamping her foot indignantly. “Why aren’t they triggering?”

 “Maybe we have to grab the orb?” Eijiro wondered if he could withstand an array of arrows. Maybe? If they weren’t metal-tipped, at least. “Like, I can sprint in, grab it, and then cover myself with my wings?”

 “You’ll just hurt yourself some more. Your skin’s tough, but not that tough.” Mina shook her head, vetoing the whole thing. “Maybe…” She frowned, biting her lip. “Maybe…” Her eyes widened as inspiration struck and without another word, she whirled around and dashed back to the bigger cavern.

 “Mina?” Eijiro stood stock still, not sure if he should follow or wait.

 As quickly as she left, she returned, dashing right up to the threshold to the small room. In her hand was a small, glowing crystal, and she wound up her arm and hurled it forward before Eijiro could utter a word. The rock flew through the air, a straight line that hurtled straight toward the glowing orb and knocked it off the pedestal. As it fell to the ground, a loud click echoed through the air and dozens of arrows flew out of the walls and ceiling, embedding on the ground.

 It looked like a porcupine sneezed. Eijiro stared in disbelief. That would have hurt. That would have hurt badly. “Holy shit.”

 “How did they even get that many arrows?” Mina gaped, her jaw slack. Amazed, she stared at the holes the arrows came out of. “Like, that’s gotta be a hundred. That’s must have been tiring to set up.”

 “What if it’s like dominos and you accidentally trigger it?” he mused aloud, still processing what he’d witnessed. It felt so impossible. A chilling thought ran up his spine. “Are there more?”

 “I hope not.” Mina tossed a rock in. Nothing happened.

 “Looks safe?” Eijiro tossed another rock in. Still, nothing happened. Then again, nothing had happened the first two times they’d tossed rocks in either. He studied the room once more, not sure what else to expect. Blades jutting out of the walls, a pit of tigers, who knows what ancient trap could be here.

 “Might as well go.” Before he could stop her, Mina darted in the room, quickly picking up the orb and dashing back out before any other traps considered springing. Wiping the sweat off her brow, she sighed. “That was close.”

 Eijiro dragged her further away from the trap door, before a stray arrow could hit her. He turned to her in a panic. “What if there were more traps?”

 “Then you’d rescue me,” Mina stated, squeezing his hand.

 He turned red but didn’t drop the argument. “That’s not the point, the point is—” Before he could reply, they heard a rumble. The earth started to shake. “What is that?”

 “…Eijiro, is it just me or is the floor collapsing?” Mina stared at the room behind them. Following her gaze, his eyes widened as he saw bits and pieces of the floor disappear, revealing a yawning black void. Turning back to the path they came from, he realized the same was happening in front of him.

 The whole place was going to collapse.

 “Shit. Grab on to me!” Without waiting for a reply, he carried her in his arms once more, his wings spreading behind him. Mina whooped excitedly as she wrapped one arm around him, the other holding onto the orb tightly.

 He shot forward, dodging pieces of the ceiling as it started to collapse. Tilting left and right, he weaved through the cavern toward the tunnel they came in from. All around him, he could hear rocks crashing, crystals cracking from the force. Luckily the tunnel was a straight line and he folded his wings in as he landed at the entrance. Without even pausing to catch his breath, he kept the momentum up and hit the ground running. It felt like the ground would collapse beneath his feet. Maybe it would. Mina shrieked as they sped through the pitch-black shaft, her head pressed against his shoulder.

 “You can do it!” she yelled. Probably. He couldn’t hear her very well, the wind stealing her words as they raced through the passageway.

 Up ahead, he could see a light. The other end of the tunnel. He picked up the pace, a burst of energy running through his veins. As they burst through the exit, he extended his wings and flew up through the cracks in the temple ceiling.

 Suddenly, above them was a bright blue sky and Eijiro stared at it for a long second, processing what had happened. “We did it.”

 “Yeah,” Mina repeated, dumbfounded. “We did it.”

 She pulled back and they stared at each other before breaking into identical grins. “We did it!” they shouted together.

 As relief coursed through his veins, the adrenaline receded and Eijiro wearily drifted to the ground. He stumbled as he landed on the ground, unable to support himself, and Mina tumbled out of his arms. She sprung to her feet quickly, catching him before he fell. “You ok?”

 “Yeah,” he grunted. He tried to grunt. His mouth wasn’t moving like he wanted it to, his tongue too heavy, and he slumped into her arms. “S’ok.”

 “You did great!” Mina cheered him, her voice at half its usual strength. Wrapping her arms around him, she slowly guided him to the ground until they were both sitting on the grass. “You were amazing.” As she praised him, she pulled his head to her lap. “Take a break, I’ll keep watch.”

 “I…” Eijiro tried to protest, but already his vision was fading. His body refused to move and he couldn’t roll off her lap.

 “Just rest a little. We’re partners, right?” she added, using his words against him. Before he completely blacked out, he felt lips press against his cheek. Her hand tousled his hair gently. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 With the last of his strength, he forced his arms around her waist, holding Mina secure.

 I’ll be here when you wake up.

 That sounded good. He smiled as he drifted off.

[marriedthedark]

Ladybug Week: Day 5 - AU

Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba) AU, 3.1k words

A/N: I got a little carried away with this one cause omfg I love this anime. Seriously go watch Demon Slayer if you haven’t already cause it’s so good. TW: Some light to moderate descriptions of blood/violence. Also angst. Lots and lots of angst.

Blake pulled her haori tighter around herself as she felt the cool chill of a crisp night breeze. The wind seemed to swirl up around her and into the trees causing the leaves of the forest to whisper sweet nothings into the night. The full moon glowed above washing the landscape below in a soft silvery-white glow. For the average person, nights like these couldn’t have been any more breathtaking and serene.

But Blake wasn’t an average person; she was a demon hunter. She knew nights like these would all too often prove to be the deadliest for an unknowing village or traveler. Without the sun to protect them, they were nothing but sitting ducks. While most people didn’t believe in demons, Blake was among the unfortunate who knew better.

She closed her eyes and sighed as she thought of all the people she was too late to save. If only she had gotten to that hut sooner, if only she had been able to slice that monster’s head off quicker, if only she had been scouting her territory in the east that one night instead of the south.

If only she could save everyone who needed saving.

She knew it was impossible. No matter how many monsters she slayed, more would eventually come to take their place. The Demon Slaying Corps were a small organization run outside of the government’s control; there simply weren’t enough resources available to cover every square mile of Japan in which people lived.

Innocent people were going to be killed on her watch; that was part of the deal she had signed when she accepted her nichirin blades upon surviving the Final Selection. She knew this, so why did it feel like a knife had pierced her chest every time she failed to protect someone.

She sensed she was being watched. There was a rustle just beyond her in the thicket of trees, too loud to be an animal. Blake drew her dual nichirin blades out, their indigo-gray blades glinting dangerously against the moonlight.

“Who’s there?”

She was answered with another rustle, this one closer to her position than the last.

Blake slowly creeped forward, her blades ready to strike at a moment’s notice. She forced her heartbeat to calm as she prepared herself to come face to face with a hellish creature.

Imagine her surprise then, when she was instead met with the face of a teary-eyed young girl.

She staggered back in surprise upon hearing the girl emit a terrified squeal. Surely, this was not the sound of a bloodthirsty demon.

“I’m s-sorry I didn’t mean to scare you I was just standing here and I heard someone so I got scared and hid cause I thought it was a demon but you’re obviously not unless you’re a weird one that prefers to fight with swords or something oh I don’t know I just didn’t mean to scare you!”

Blake stared at the girl in bewilderment. Her eyes flitted to her waist where she saw the hilt of a sheathed blade, the scabbard hanging from the girl’s belt. This paired with the fact that she knew about demons, Blake came to the conclusion that she must have been a member of the Demon slayer Corps.

She had run into fellow demon slayers before, but none as young and seemingly cowardly as this one.

Upon realizing the lack of threat, Blake returned her blades to scabbards strapped to her back. She observed the girl more closely, taking note of the tear stains on her cheeks and runny trail of mucus streaming from her nose. Despite this, Blake saw no obvious wounds on the girl’s body.

“It’s all right,” Blake finally spoke. “I’m not a demon either. Are you a member of the corps too? What are you doing out here all by yourself? I’m the one who normally patrols this area.”

The other girl nodded as she sniffed against the sleeves of her red coat. Blake caught sight of a black Corps uniform peeking out; the same one distributed to new recruits.

“I-I just passed the Final Selection two weeks ago. I was sent on a mission to a village northwest of here. B-but…”

Fresh tears now started to trickle down her face.

“I got there and there was so much blood. I saw it with someone already in its mouth…I-I couldn’t save them.”

Blake felt her chest clench as the other girl sunk to the ground, burying her head in her knees.

“I couldn’t do anything! I was so angry and I wanted to kill it b-but everyone was already dead! I thought if I made it through the Final Selection I’d be ready for anything, but the things back THERE are nothing compared to what’s out here! I ran away until I ended up here so I could cry in peace. I shouldn’t have done this, I should’ve listened to Yang and my dad and not joined the corps. I’m not cut out for this…”

The sound of muffled sobs filled the air. Blake quickly scanned her surroundings to make sure nothing had tried to sneak up on them during the girl’s story. Once she deemed they were still alone, she kneeled before the girl with a handkerchief in hand.

“It’s all right,” she assured again. “I know how you feel.” She lightly tapped the girl’s knee as she spoke, prompting her to look up.

“My name is Blake Belladonna. I’ve been with the Corps for two years now, but I still remember my first mission.”

She couldn’t fully conceal her grimace at the unpleasant memory.

“It went a lot like yours did, actually.”

The girl looked at Blake with wide silver eyes as she took the handkerchief. She blew her nose loudly into it before using what unsoiled parts were left to clean her face.

“My name is R-Ruby. Ruby Rose.”

Blake smiled at the introduction.

“That’s a pretty name. Makes me think of a thick bouquet of roses you give to someone to let them know you love them.”

Ruby managed a tiny smile. She had never thought of her name like that before.

“I like your name too. It sounds cool and mysterious.”

Blake huffed in amusement. “Trust me, I’m not nearly as cool as other slayers I’ve seen.”

She then rose to her full height, extending her hand down towards Ruby.

“We should get out of here. It’s not a good idea to stay in one place like this.”

Ruby nodded before wiping her eyes with her sleeve. She gladly accepted Blake’s hand as she hoisted herself up off the ground. Now that they were both standing, she noticed that Blake was several inches taller than her.

“My camp is about four miles north of here. Mind having some dinner with me?”

Blake herself was surprised with her words; normally she wasn’t one to be quick with getting close to people. She always viewed herself as more of the loner type, and she liked it that way. Despite this, Ruby somehow managed to squeeze through the walls she thought she had firmly built around herself.

Ruby’s face brightened at the invitation. “I’d love to!”

It was then Blake noticed that their hands were still connected. She felt her face warm slightly as she dropped her hand back to her side.

“U-uh ok,” she stuttered awkwardly before turning her back on the girl. “This way then.”

The duo made their way down the hill with Blake leading the way. As they moved, Ruby decided to fill the silence with more of her personal history.

“My older sister Yang is a demon slayer too. She passed her final selection a few years ago. Now she travels all over, so I don’t get to see her as often. I still live with my dad though! His name is Tai Yang. He’s really cool, he taught both me and Yang how to be swordswomen. He didn’t want me to join the Corps though. I guess he didn’t like the idea of both his daughters spending their free time hunting dangerous man-eating monsters.”

“Understandable,” Blake stated curtly.

“But I just, I wanna help people you know? My mom was killed by a demon. Her name was Summer Rose. She was a slayer too I think, though I’m not really sure. I don’t remember much about her, and dad’s never really willing to talk about her.”

Blake hummed as Ruby spoke, letting the other girl know that she was listening. In reality, she was much more focused on making sure the path in front of them didn’t lead to a savage demon.

“Soooooo, what sort of technique do you do?” Ruby asked. By the way she was speaking now, you’d have never know that Blake had found her as a pitiful sobbing mess.

“I’m a breath of a flower user! It’s an extension of the water breath. My nichirin blade’s color is pink, which is a real bummer because that’s so close to red which is my favorite color, but I’m sure someone like you knows that you don’t exactly get to choose the color of your blade-“

Ruby’s breath halted in her chest as she walked straight into the extended palm of Blake; a signal to stop moving.

“Something’s watching us, and I don’t think it’s human.”

Blake withdrew the blades from her back as she took a battle stance. Ruby quickly jolted up at the realization that trouble was on the horizon.

“Oh right get your blade get your blade,” she muttered to herself as she fumbled with the scabbard on her waist.

Sure enough, the silhouette of human-like form a emerged from the trees ahead. Ruby felt herself tremble slightly as the full form of the demon came before them.

It had a tall and slender frame with long lanky arms. The hair on top of it’s head was as ghostly white as the skin that was exposed from the tattered kimono. A single, jagged horn protruded from the left side of the demon’s head while another unsightly spike jutted out from his right shoulder. Vertically slitted pupils set against sickly yellow irises stared down the two slayers, clearly reflective of the malicious intent of their owner. The demon’s mouth widened to a large, loathsome smile filled with two lines of razor sharp teeth.

“Very astute you are. I am definitely not a human, not anymore at least.”

Blake’s grip on her blades tightened at the demon’s grating voice. Normally she’d have no problem facing a lowlife like this by herself, but this time she had Ruby. She couldn’t do anything that would risk putting the younger girl in danger.

The demon’s brow pinched with curiosity as he continued to stare down the girls in front of him.

“Quite the unusual pair we have here,” he pointed towards Blake before continuing. “You seem to have an idea of what you’re doing. Haven’t seen many dual wielders around these parts.” His finger shifted towards Ruby’s position, “You however don’t seem to have the slightest clue about anything. If you tremble any harder the poor ground will give way under you.”

“Leave her alone!” Blake barked through gritted teeth.

“Oh dear, seems you’re rather protective over that pathetic little flower,” the monster sneered as a thick snake-like tongue licked its chops.

“I guess I know which one I’m sinking into first.”

“Ruby run!” Black screamed frantically as she shoved her back. The demon quickly closed the gap between them yet Blake’s quick reflexes managed to block the savage attack.

The monster reared back in pain. He looked down to his hands to see the gashes left behind from Blake’s blades.

“Not going to lie, that hurt a bit. Lucky for me wounds like these don’t take very long to regenerate.”

True to the monster’s word, the gashes quickly mended themselves. The stains of red remaining on his hands and wrists were the only sign that he had ever been struck.

Blake frantically looked behind her, praying Ruby didn’t somehow get injured in the altercation. Much to her dismay however, she saw no sign of the girl behind her.

She didn’t have much time to worry about that, as the demon once again came to the offensive.

“Seems the brat ran off, so I’ll deal with you first,” he laughed cruelly as Blake jump back against a tree to avoid his fatal blows.

This one is so fast compared to other’s I’ve fought. I can barely evade his attacks!

Blake jumped to a high tree branch out of the demon’s reach, partially concealed in the forest shadows. She drew in a deep breath as she quickly prepped herself for her swords’ technique.

“Breath of the beast first form, shadow strike!” she called out as she launched herself down towards her target, her two blades extended ready to pierce.

The monster however was prepared for such an attack, and was able to move out of the way before Blake could make contact. Blake was unable to react in time to account for her miss, and the demon seized his advantage and delivered harsh kick.

Blake screamed out in pain as she rolled across the ground, only being stopped by the base of nearby tree. The demon however did not relent, and she was forced to roll out of the way in order to avoid another savage kick.

She panted ragged breaths as she desperately struggled to her feet, the searing pain in her upper arm letting her know that bones were probably broken. While she could control her breathing enough to control the internal bleeding, fighting with only one arm would put her at an even larger disadvantage.

Still, she couldn’t give up. She needed to buy more time for Ruby to run away. She had already watched so many people die on her account. She would not let Tai Yang lose his youngest daughter. She would not let Ruby die.

Blake yelled as she charged towards her foe, her still-functioning arm ready to strike.

“Breath of the beast fourth form, umbra assault!”

The demon bough his arm up to shield the blow. While Blake was able to sever it, her wounded side was left vulnerable in the process. Despite the gruesome injury, the demon used his free arm to latch onto Blake’s neck.

The demon raised Blake in the air away from his body. Blake madly used what strength was left in her legs to try and kick her way out. Her swords clattered to the ground as she desperately clawed at the hand to release its grasp around her throat.

She knew panicking was the worst thing she could do; panicking meant wasting precious breaths. But as the demon’s vile grin drew closer to her face, Blake found herself becoming more frantic in her struggles. She felt herself becoming light-headed, and it was only a matter of time before she completely passed out.

“Looks like you’ve met your match, slayer filth,” The monster growled mere inches from her. “Anything you’d like to say before I pluck those pretty eyes out of their sockets.”

“Go to hell,” Blake wheezed in the demon’s deadly grasp.

The demon snarled in displeasure. Blake closed her eyes as she braced herself for what was inevitably going to come.

I’m so sorry Ruby. I wanted to be there for you, I really did…

Her eyes snapped open upon hearing the loud crack of a tree branch. Blake looked behind the monster to see a blur of red and pink.

“BREATH OF FLOWER FIRST FORM, SERRATED ROSE THORN!!”

Ruby screamed as she put every ounce of force behind one single stroke. She prayed to whatever gods may be out there that it was enough to slice through the demon’s neck.

Ruby landed unceremoniously to the ground with a loud thud. Despite the messy landing, she was able to roll herself quickly back to her feet as she stared at the result of her decision.

The demon’s body stood motionless, it’s head lying a few feet away. In spite of this, its grasp remained closed on Blake’s neck.

With tears streaming, Ruby dashed up to the corpse and sliced the remaining arm from the body. Blake instantly dropped to the ground, coughing and wheezing as she struggled to regain normal breathing.

The demon’s body began to turn to dust, it’s decapitated body slowly melting away like sand in the wind.

“I was defeated by YOU???” the head roared as it too began to disintegrate. “You puny, insignificant little WORM!!!-“

Those were the final words of the monster as both the head and body succumbed to the night breeze.

Ruby breathed a small sigh of relief. The monster was dead.

It was short lived however, as she dropped to her knees to quickly take Blake in her arms.

“B-Blake!!! I’m so sorry!! Please don’t die, I wish I could’ve done more but I didn’t want to get in your way. I thought about running but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left you to die!” Ruby rambled on, her voice brittle as shattered glass.

Blake continued to wheeze, the gaze of her warm amber eyes fixated on bright silver ones.

Ruby bought her hands to gently cup her friend’s face. “B-Blake, please don’t die. Please don’t die,” she begged desperately. Her body trembled delicately as if a mere touch would cause her to collapse.

Summoning what strength she could, Blake raised a hand to place gently on Ruby’s own cheek. She coughed roughly before finally being able to speak.

“You…you saved me,” her voice came out in almost a whisper.

Ruby cried harder as the feeling of genuine relief finally washed over her. Blake was going to survive.

She bought her forehead down to Blake’s, nuzzling the other girl tenderly.

“I wanted to be strong for you.”

Blake smiled weakly as she felt Ruby’s tears drop onto her face, mixing with her own.

“You were always strong, Ruby. You just didn’t know it yet.”