#the one who made jokes non-stop was gar

[barbie0303]

Dick annoying/insulting the bad guys (New teen titans era)

(Because those compilations are always great)

Tales of the Teen Titans #58

Tales of the teen titans #43

New teen titans (1980) #21

New teen titans (1984) #36

New teen titans (1984) #37

New teen titans (1980) #7

New teen titans (1980) #39

New titans (1988) #75

New teen titans (1980) #19

New teen titans (1984) #22

Edit: I also have compilations of Batman era and Bludhaven era

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XVII

Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Part XIV - - - - Part XV - - - - Part XVI

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Anakin scarcely had time to relax into the confirmation that Obi-Wan still loved him when his Master drew back.

“Anakin- you have no idea how much I simply want to stay like this, but we don’t have much time before I have to talk to the council, and there’s some matters I really feel we must discuss privately before that happens.”

“Ok.” Anakin wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe and sat at the foot of his Master’s bed, vibrating with intensity. 

“First of all.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “I know this sounds insane, but I need you to believe me- I’m from four years in the future. Or I had an incredibly detailed, four year long vision. Either way- I know things. I know where the war is leading us.”

“Alright.” Anakin nodded in relief. Looks like Bant was right. Thank fuck- I hated her theory the least. “So when you-” He vaguely mimed a stabbing motion “-You were trying to ‘wake up’ - from a memory? 

“Yes! Exactly!” Obi-Wan replied, relieved at the ease of the explanation. 

Anakin smiled reassuringly, then lunged to grab a pillow to whack his Master over the head. “You- fucking- kara- blast- idiot.” Anakin grit out, thwacking his master repeatedly with gentle rage. “Do. You. Have. Any. Idea. How! Fucked! Up! That! WAS! FOR!-”

Obi-Wan snatched the pillow, “Yes! Yes! I didn’t intend to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry, and you are perfectly entitled to your anger, alright!”

“I- oh.” Anakin paused, sitting back on his heels, not really sure how to go respond.

“Anakin- I know the identity of the Sith Master. I know who’s behind everything.” Obi-Wan stared intently into Anakin’s eyes. 

“Obi-Wan- that’s great!” Anakin said excitedly. If Obi-Wan knew who was responsible for all their suffering then, “That could end the war, right?”

Obi-Wan continued to gaze searchingly at his dearest friend and brother’s face, gently opening himself up to their bond, trying to find any hint of duplicity.

Anakin faltered under the scrutiny. “Right?”

Obi-Wan took another deep breath. He didn’t know. This was Anakin, before Palpatine- did something to him. It wasn’t too late.

“Anakin...it’s...someone we trust. Someone you trust. He- Darth Sidious- he’s been running both sides of the war.”

Anakin paled, eyes darting to the door, voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper, “He’s on the Council? Fuck that’s bad. Obi-Wan, what do you need me to do? I don’t have my lightsaber right now, but-” 

“No!” Obi-Wan replied quickly. “No! I mean, yes, it’s bad. But he’s not on the council. It’s- Anakin. I’m so, so sorry. But I saw a security hologram of him giving the final order to- to wipe out the Jedi and the Separatist leadership.” Anakin watched in alarm as Obi-Wan shuddered viscerally.

“I saw his speeches declaring victory over us, over everything. He personally killed half the council when we finally, finally found him out, far too late. Yoda barely survived- we were- the two of us were all that was left. I spent the last few years listening to his decrees as ‘Emperor’ - declaring the scarce remaining Jedi traitors to be hunted down. Making non-humans second class citizens. Enslaving worlds.”

Obi-Wan grabbed the front of Anakin’s tunic. “Please Anakin. He- he’s evil. He doesn’t want peace, or freedom, or justice, or security. He’s just been manipulating us all for his own ends. All of us. This whole time.” 

“It’s going to be ok, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said earnestly, grasping his Master’s hands. “I believe you. If the force gave you this clear a warning- or this incredible a second chance, then obviously we have to listen! I won’t let it happen how you saw, I swear. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop him.”

Obi-Wan felt like he was teetering over the edge of a precipice. He sucked in another breath- why was it so hard to breathe- 

“Anakin- It’s Palpatine. Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith Lord.”

Anakin froze. “That’s- not funny.”

Obi-Wan barked out a single hysterical laugh. “No, no it is not. But it’s true. I told you- I saw it and- it makes a twisted sense, even only looking at the informational available at this point in time! How the Separatists  always stayed one step ahead despite our advantages. How the clones and the GAR came to exist in the first place. The constant increase in war time powers- Dooku karking told us the Senate was under the control of a Sith-” 

“We’re listening to Dooku now?” Anakin asked, getting angry for lack of a better response.

“Anakin...” 

“I mean of course that’s what the Sith would want you to believe! He’s the chancellor! Turning the Jedi against the leader of the republic is such a Sith move.”

“Anakin...”

“And- and- MIND CONTROL! What if it was it was mind control! You even said you thought that you thought Cody was mind-controlled, right?”

Obi-Wan drew back, alarmed and suspicious, “How do you know that?” he rasped hoarsely.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “You told Cody, remember? That first night? In the hovercar?”

“Ah. Right. Sorry. That first night is still a little fuzzy.” Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. “I still can’t believe I time-traveled while high on one end and drunk on the other. It’s so- undignified.” 

Anakin snorted. “You must have taken a lot of spice, huh?” he joked.

Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably.

“I- oh for Krong’s sake,” Anakin groaned, slapping himself in the forehead. “Obi-Wan- were you actually trying to kill yourself?”

“No!” Obi-Wan replied quickly to the loaded question. “I was just looking for a- temporary escape. I did mention that a Sith Empire ruled the galaxy and Yoda and I were all that was left of the Jedi order, right? He didn’t seem totally sane the last time I saw him, either! Not to mention, I spent most of the last three years alone in a desert.”

“Oh.” Anakin grew somber. “Master, that-”

“And that still doesn’t explain how you knew what I said to Cody.”

“Well, the day after I came back to our quarters to find you in the process of stabbing yourself in the heart you woke up, declared Master Che both dead and a Sith trick, then sunk into a self-induced coma.” Anakin snapped. “The healers, I think understandably, set aside privacy and called everyone in to try and figure out what the fuck was going on”

Obi-Wan cringed. “That...makes sense. Sorry again.” He cleared his throat. “Look, we’ve got seconds left before council interrupts- I just- didn’t want you to be blindsided by the Palpatine reveal.”

“But you admit there was mind control involved,” Anakin insisted. “Cody wouldn’t have turned on you without it, and neither would the Chancellor.”

“Anakin- I know we never liked to talk about it, but the Vod had a lot more opportunity to be compromised en mass. They were designed for a purpose we never fully understood and their entire childhood consisted of indoctrination; we already knew Dooku was involved with their ‘commissioning- we just ignored it.’”

Anakin bit the inside of his mouth, tasting blood as he restrained himself from screaming. He didn’t want to think about Kamino and he had to make Obi-Wan see past the nightmare he witnessed, before he convinced the council of an innocent man’s guilt.

“There wasn’t anyone else who might have been mind-controlled, who turned on you, or the Jedi? You said everyone died- there had to be someone besides some of the clones and one old man doing the killing,” he said desperately.

Obi-Wan’s sputtered, “That’s- that’s different- it was so obviously Palpatine’s influence.”

“But there was someone else you think might have been acting against his will.” Anakin pressed, sensing a weak point.

Obi-Wan looked gutted. “I don’t know- I want to believe you would never do such terrible things but you did and it all happened so fast...”

“So you admit-” Anakin stopped as his brain caught up with his mouth. “Wait- me?”

Obi-Wan’s face twisted in anguish but he didn’t break eye contact as he nodded.

Anakin swallowed hard. “Obi-Wan... what did I-” he cut himself off as the door opened.

Master Windu entered and squinted suspiciously at the two of them. 

"Mace!” Anakin said nervously. “We were just- crying. You know. Being attached and, and all that.”

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped open as he stared bug-eyed at his Padawan. “Mace?” he repeated, dumbfounded.

Mace Windu inhaled slowly through his nose. “Your friends had plenty of time to bond while we were trying to make sense of your more... disastrous traits.” He waved vaguely.

“You just gestured at all me,” Obi-Wan replied, offended. 

“Well, you’ll have the opportunity to help clear up our misconceptions. Master Aerdo is preparing a meeting room in the Halls so you can explain everything, just like you wanted.”

“Oh, fuck.” Anakin whispered softly. 

“It’s a different room, Anakin, I made sure of it.” Mace reassured him.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan parroted in delight.

“Well, I’m glad you know everyone’s names, at least.” Windu muttered. “Master Che will be by to check you over one more time, she should have some proper robes for you. Should we contact Commander Cody? He’s at a pre-departure briefing with Master Tiin not too far away.” 

“No.” Obi-Wan responded sadly. “We can’t alert anyone outside the halls about even the existence of this meeting. Maintaining secrecy right now is too important. We’re going to need to take a significant amount of extremely careful action on a lot of fronts if we want to unravel the Sith’s plots- and I hate to say it but stopping the actual war is unfortunately going to need to wait for last. We’ll still end things sooner than they would otherwise, but if we meddle too much right now... Whatever story you were using to explain my- absence the past few days, please simply double down on that.” 

The Master of the Jedi Order nodded slowly, holding off on questions with well-practiced restraint.

“Alright Windu, Skywalker, get out.” Che ordered, brusquely pushing her way in with a hovercart. 

“Yes, Master Che.” Anakin acknowledged, jumping up. He gave Obi-Wan a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before he departed. “We’re going to get through this.” he said valiantly, trying to project confidence.

Obi-Wan smiled weakly, “I’ll see you two soon.”

“That’s up to me, actually.” Master Che said cheerfully, snapping her gloves.

Part XVIII

[wanderinginksplot]

Just for Kix

Previous | Masterlist

Vent

"Hey, look who finally decided to show up!" a friendly voice called out as Kix walked into the GAR's main medbay.

"Curl, you di'kut, there's no one else here," Kix complained, though the grin on his face took the sting out of the insult he tossed to his fellow medic.

"Yeah, but the others are on their way," Curl said defensively, gripping Kix's forearm in greeting. Kix squeezed Curl's 104th-gray vambrace in return before helping to gather some of the medbay's most comfortable chairs.

'The others' were the other medics of various battalions. Every few months, the GAR brought some of the older medics back to Coruscant to be recertified. This class was going to be great or terrible, Kix hadn't decided. With some of the brothers he heard were scheduled to be here, it could go either way, but it was sure to be memorable.

Still, it would be good to see everyone again. They had decided to meet here as soon as everyone's transports arrived. Classes didn't start until the next morning, but everyone needed a chance to complain about the idiots they were in charge of.

"Are all the transports here?" Kix asked.

Curl started to say something, but he was cut off by heavy footsteps approaching the medbay door. A large trooper stepped in, his sheer size and the weight of his heavy muscle making the floor reverberate a little with every step. His armor, altered to fit his increased muscle mass, was painted with swirls of 327th yellow.

When he caught sight of them, he bobbed his head and removed his helmet. "Kix, Curl," he said in greeting, his low voice rumbling through the room like thunder.

"Limit," Kix returned.

"Well, if it isn't the most popular medic in the GAR," Curl joked, beaming at the man. "Heard you couldn't keep the females away last time you were at 79's, vod."

Limit's face flushed. "Stop it, Cu- Curl. I get enough of that from my- my own men."

"Leave him alone," Kix chided, shoving at Curl's shoulder. "Keep it up and I'll tell Wolffe you were bullying Limit."

Curl was irreverent, but Kix thought that threatening to go to his commanding officer would make him back off - especially with a CO as ill-tempered as Wolffe. Curl seemed unphased, however.

"Oh, yeah?" Curl challenged. "Maybe I'll tell him you were messing with Limit. He's still mad at you for joking about his cybernetic eye."

"You j-joked about Commander Wolffe's eye?" Limit asked, looking shocked and a bit horrified.

Kix felt an uncharacteristic surge of guilt. Limit was everyone's favorite brother. Disappointing him was like hitting a youngling.

"You didn't have to see how bad it was, Limit!" he defended. "I was scraping black goo out of it. He's lucky it didn't catch fire, and Curl is lucky he didn't have to deal with it!"

"Yeah, but I had to treat your general that one time," Curl tossed back.

"And I'm sure it was terrible for you," Kix said dryly.

The one time General Skywalker had been injured and admitted he needed a medic, Curl had been the one to treat him. Kix had spent his entire career dragging his general into the medbay for every injury, but Skywalker came and asked Curl to all but perform a battlefield surgery!

Curl had been insufferable after that.

"You know better than to make fun of someone who came to you- to you for treatment, Kix," Limit told him, deep voice saddened.

"Yeah, Kix," Curl gloated, beaming from behind Limit's impossibly broad shoulder.

"Come over here, Curl," Kix invited. "I want to show you this new method of spinal adjustment I learned. Only a mild chance of paralysis."

The door opened once again, this time admitting a trooper who wore Coruscant Guard crimson even out of uniform.

"Wow, Ink," Curl commented. "Didn't even bother to dress up, huh?"

"Got off duty an hour ago," Ink grunted. "Didn't want to be in my armor longer than I had to."

True enough, the trooper wore a crimson shirt with sleeves that barely reached his elbows. Wearing civvies to a medic meeting, even one that wasn't GAR-official, was a bold move. Everyone's civilian clothing was open to mocking, and Ink was no exception.

Of course, Curl didn't limit himself to Ink's clothing.

"What happened to your arms, vod?" he asked, seeming to fight a grin.

Ink was known among troopers for his tattoos. Intricate, Mandalorian-inspired patterns traced along the entirety of his back, shoulders, and arms. Ink had been expanding the maze of tattoos lately, and they had now spread down his forearms almost to his wrists. Of course, Curl was probably talking about the spots where messy splotches of color filled the precise outlines of the pattern.

At Curl's question, Ink glanced down at his forearms and shrugged. "The Guard had to investigate a fire on one of the lower levels. There were some younglings there."

He said it like it was a full explanation and - from him - it was. Ink melted around younglings of every species, despite how much he scared their parents.

Kix hid a smile of his own. "How's life with the Corrie Guard treating you?"

"He shou-should be the one doing the treating," Limit joked.

"Hilarious," Ink deadpanned. "Guard life is good. Treated a sprained ankle last week. Di'kut jumped down a level and a half without a jetpack."

"Hey, you know the rules," Curl objected. "No med talk until everyone is here."

"Who are we waiting on?" Kix asked.

"Heeeeeyyyyyyyy!" Shatter cheered, bursting through the door like he had been waiting for an introduction. Sprain followed close behind, throwing his arms outward like he was accepting applause.

"You didn't start without us, did you?" Sprain asked when Shatter finally paused to breathe.

"Just a short story about Wolffe," Limit admitted, looking guilty. "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, Limit," Shatter forgave easily, gripping Limit's forearm in a quick warrior's greeting.

"Besides, we've all heard about Wolffe's eye," Sprain added. "Kix has been complaining about it for months."

"Was I supposed to stop?" Kix asked, mildly affronted. "I can still smell it!"

"Gross," Ink contributed.

"Gross? I'm gonna assume you're talking about that sad excuse for civvies," Shatter jabbed. "I mean, I wasn't gonna say anything, but it looks like something a Weequay would wear."

Ink snorted. "At least they didn't run out of dye for my shirt like they did with your hair."

Everyone else in the room chuckled at that - except Sprain, who had a single streak of dye up the back of his hair to match his brother. Shatter's was 212th gold, of course, while Sprain's was 41st Elite Corps green.

"I would be more offended by that if we weren't talking to the unanimously-voted best medic in the GAR," Sprain said, grinning.

"Is it true you actually got Fox to sleep more than five hours straight?" Shatter asked.

Kix perked up. This was new information… Fox was infamous for his lack of regular sleep, and infamously stubborn when it came to setting professional limits for sake of his health.

Ink leaned back in his chair and crossed his color-swatched arms over his chest. "I can neither confirm nor deny that story. Medic-patient privilege."

"C'mon, Ink," Curl wheedled. "No one's ever gotten Fox to sleep that long, especially not an almost-shiny like you."

Ink shot a glare in Curl's direction.

"However you d-did it, good job," Limit congratulated sincerely. "The Commander needs to take better care of- care of himself."

"We're here to learn new stuff to use on the field, right?" Kix mused slowly. "Well, I have a general who likes to avoid sleep. Can you give me some tips, Ink?"

Curl snorted. "Maybe another medic just has to ask."

Sprain, having heard the Curl-treating-Skywalker story before, just elbowed Curl. "Yeah, Ink, help Kix out. Of course, I don't need any help at all, since General Unduli believes in living a life of balance..."

"Shut up, Sprain," Shatter told his brother. "We get it; your general actually takes care of herself. Ink, if the circles under Kenobi's eyes get any darker, I'm going to get called in for dereliction of duty. Help a vod avoid a court-martial, would you?"

Ink sighed. "I can't be specific, but… did you know that certain Coruscant businesses will package unflavored protein powder in stim packages?"

Shouts of laughter greeted his carefully worded advice.

"Is that ethical?" Limit asked, sounding a bit troubled by the idea of deceiving a patient.

With a shrug, Ink told him, "More ethical than letting the Head Commander catch a plasma bolt in his shebs because he's too tired to function when his overlapping stims wear off."

Limit still looked doubtful, but Kix made a mental note of the trick. The general and commander didn't use stims except in dire circumstances - claiming that the Force sustained them - but the captain was known to be more reliant on non-sleep methods than Kix would prefer. And don't even get him started on Fives and Echo. When the ARCs were attached to the 501st, Kix could feel his heart working overtime.

"Speaking of catching a bolt, is it true you threatened to shoot one of your troopers, Curl?" Kix asked, relishing the looks of shock on the faces of the other medics. He had waited until everyone was present to drop that particular bit of news.

Curl looked surprised, for once. "How did you hear about that?"

"I have my ways," Kix said mysteriously. It paid to be friends with officers from other battalions, and his friendship with Sinker had proven it on multiple occasions.

Looking murderous, Limit drew himself up to full height. "You what?"

Curl knew when to get out of the line of fire and took a few steps away from the mass of muscle that was Limit. "It's not as bad as it sounds! Some of the members of the Wolfpack were experimenting with their jetpacks. I overheard a plan to drop a trooper from cruising altitude and have the other men catch him on the way down. I told them that they wouldn't have to worry about the enemy if they tried it."

Shatter blew out a breath. "Your battalion is something else, Curl."

That was the general consensus, if the nods and grunts around the room were any sign.

"So? Am I forgiven, Limit?" Curl asked, his eyes dancing.

Limit clenched his jaw. "I just don't think there is any- any cause to threaten one of your own troopers. Their safety is your concern, and they get enough threats from outsiders."

Sprain looked curious. "And what do you do when one of your troopers refuses to consider his own safety?"

"I talk to him," Limit answered simply. "Last miss- mission, Lieutenant Galle tried to hide an injury from me. When I found out about it, I treated- treated him and we had a talk about the responsibility of command and the importance of being at your- at your best when the lives of your vode are at risk."

"How did he take that talk?" Kix asked. Galle was notoriously stubborn and took criticism extremely poorly.

"He cried and admitted that I was right."

Surprised laughter met that pronouncement.

"Psychological warfare is the worst kind," Ink told him. "I'd rather someone just shoot at me."

"You don't mean that," Curl said, though his voice made it a question.

Shatter raised his eyebrows. "Would you rather get shot at or have Limit tell you that your life choices were bad?"

With a long look in Limit's direction, Sprain shrugged. "I'd go under fire any day."

"And I sup-suppose you all just threaten your men?"

"Sometimes, you can bribe them instead," Curl countered, keeping a steady distance between Limit and himself.

Any attempt at coherent conversation disintegrated from there, as the medics fell into arguments about the best way to handle stubborn patients. Kix fought a grin as he listened to them all. With medics like these fighting for the Republic, the CIS didn't stand a chance.

---

A/N - As a note, stims are canonically injected, but this is a theoretical powdered version. (Go with it.) I know some of you have told me your hopes for a happy ending for Kix. While I'm sure he continues to help where he can in his current timeline, the sequel era just doesn't inspire me enough to write a sequel-based happy ending for him. However, the idea of a medic group chat is one that has stuck with me throughout this series, and I wanted to include it in part here! You already know Curl, Shatter, and Sprain. Limit was introduced in the Bly chapter of Nobody Listens to Kix. Ink is new and got his name from his tattoos (not because of my username, I promise!). I hope it provided a lighthearted end to this particular fic.

Unfortunately, this is the last chapter of this story at this point. Unless I get some new ideas or surrender to my urge to write more about these OCs, this is the end of this particular story. If anyone has interest in a different work about several members of the Coruscant Guard, I have one I'm publishing as my new weekly-updated story (found on my masterlist). If not, no worries! It has been an absolute joy writing for you! Thank you, as always, for reading! Have a wonderful day!

[myundeadgayson]

DC Street Racing AU — Bart Allen’s Backstory

alright, i know practically nothing about cars. i’ve also never even seen a Fast and the Furious movie, but SOMEONE has gotta fill the void on lack of DC Street Racing AUs, and i’m gonna do it. (if there are some out there though, please let me know! i can barely find ANYTHING, and i’d love to see stuff for this kind of AU!)

so,,, i’m just saying,,, the Teen Titans and Young Justice Crews as Street Racers.

we’ll start off with the characters that sent me into this spiral in the first place: Bart Allen and Wally West.

again, i know practically nothing about this kind of stuff. i know nothing about street racing, or cars, but i’m just saying… i really love imagining Street Racer!Wally being Bart’s inspiration for wanting to race.

even though Iris was never approving of Wally’s racing (she’s supportive, but extremely concerned for his safety), Wally would occasionally bring Bart along to the races that he’d have with friends. sometimes Bart would sneak his way into going without Wally realizing, but either way, Bart would come along.

after years of growing up and watching Wally race, Bart decided he wanted to race too. (note: to save myself a headache since this is No Powers AU and Time Travel doesn’t take place, we’re just gonna pretend that Barry and Iris adopted Bart. i want to say that his parents were close family members of Iris and Wally. perhaps one of the parents was another cousin of theirs, but both Bart’s parents ended up dying in some sort of accident. since then, Bart’s been living with Barry, Iris, and their newly born twins.)

i have so much more to say about this AU, but i want to warn you because this is about to be a VERY long post. however, if you wanna know Bart Allen’s Street Racer AU backstory and more about Wally (and his racing group, The Titans), please read more!

      (TW: small car accident — completely non-graphic, no injuries involved, everything is okay, but it does happen)     Bart’s been interested in racing for YEARS. ever since he was a kid, he’s always craved to know what it’s like — to feel the wind in your hair, the rush of adrenaline in your veins, the feeling of your heart racing as you watch the speedometer go up and up and up. the exhilaration filling your lungs as some part of you realizes “this is dangerous”.

he wants those feelings. he wants that experience that makes Wally’s eyes light up like there’s pure lightening rushing through his veins.

he wants to go Fast.

when Bart was thirteen, Wally let him sit in the driver’s seat for the first time.

Wally didn’t let him drive it, of course. Bart wasn’t tall enough yet to reach the petals even if he wanted to, but he was excited nonetheless. Wally had laughed at him as he grinned, asking how to work everything.

the car wasn’t on — Wally wasn’t dumb enough to give him even the slightest chance of trying to start it. it was a good choice. Bart would be a liar to say that he wouldn’t have instantly tried to drive it. instead, Wally let Bart mess with the gears and pretend he was in a race of his own. he’d adjust the mirror to try to see himself. he was too short to fully be seen in it, but if he sat up tall enough he could see his eyes.

years later, Bart would do the same. he’d look into his reflection and see his eyes, sparkling with that same determination that he had all those years ago.

Wally had explained everything to him. Bart started off by eagerly pointing at things (like the gear, the numbers, and all the weird symbols he could see) and ask questions, and Wally would answer every one. Wally explained other things too, like what made Wally’s special car better for racing than some random car. Bart hung on every word, trying his best to imagine all the pieces, even if he didn’t know what some were at all. he tried to commemorate every bit of information to memory bc maybe one day, he could make himself a cool car too.

the first time Bart actually drove a car was a disaster.

he was barely fourteen. it was hardly even a few months after Wally had verbally explained to him how to work a car.

no one expected him to put that knowledge to use so quickly.

somehow he got ahold of Iris’ keys. he would never explain how he got him (they were RIGHT THERE on the counter. how was he supposed to say no when they made it so easy?), but somehow it happened.

his joyride didn’t last long enough. for a short moment though, he was beyond excited to be beyond the wheel. after lots of adjusting the seat and awkwardly shuffling to sit as close to the wheel as possible to be able to see over the hood, Bart started to drive.

he managed to get down the street. he was a little slow at first. the car wobbled in an unsteady line as it trudged down the road at barely 10mph. Bart’s eyes flickered constantly between the road and the mirror, his small hands gripping the wheel like a lifeline.

the anxiousness he felt subsided as he reached the end of the neighborhood. there was no sign of Iris in sight, and he managed to drive just fine. stunned laughter bubbled from his lips as his eyes flickered back down to the road ahead— he was doing it! he was really doing it! he was driving!

with a newfound confidence urging him on, he turned onto a connected street to keep going. he started pressing on the gas pedal more, trying to gain some speed. the car started going from a slow crawl to a decently safe speed. Bart started pressing down on it harder and harder, going faster and faster. he remembered laughing in delight. the windows were cracked halfway, allowing the air to rush in. it tousled his hair, and for a moment he felt like he was flying.

until he wasn’t.

he hadn’t really considered the thought of other cars. he hadn’t considered a lot of things actually, such as the fact it was the middle of the day and people would be driving.

he didn’t crash into anyone, but it was a close call. when he started getting closer to the main road and noticed the cars zooming across, he panicked.

he hit the brakes. he did what Wally said. he didn’t slam them, but he was still going too fast. the cars were getting closer! Bart pressed his foot door harder and finally, stomped on the brakes altogether.

he yanked the wheel away from the road, shutting his eyes tight.

the wheels spun. he went off the road into the grass, tire skidding rough tracks across the grass and dirt. he didn’t hit a car, but he did hit the stop sign at the end of the street.

it was a miracle he didn’t get hurt, or worse. he ended up a bit banged up hitting the wheel and the seatbelt yanking too tight, but he was overall fine. unfortunately, Iris definitely wasn’t happy.

Bart didn’t drive for a long while after that.

occasionally, Wally would still take him on drives though.

some of Bart’s best memories are riding in the passenger seat late at night. along barren backroads and empty highways, Wally would race through the streets. with the windows rolled down, the two of them would laugh, voices carried through the wind that whipped their hair like reckless flames.

under the passing lights, Bart would grin wide and holler his excitement into the night sky without a care in the world.

the world would need to try pretty hard to catch them.

Bart would also get to attend a few of Wally’s races. it isn’t as often as he used to with Iris and Barry watching him more closely, but he still got to go some times.

he’d only really watch Wally race against friends.

they called themselves the Titans. Wally said the name wasn’t planned, it just happened to stick. Bart assumed it was more because as time went on, they really did become like the titans to beat if you wanted to prove yourself as a racer.

it was who made up the team that once surprised him.

Dick Grayson, Wally’s best friend of many years and infamous son of Gotham’s Bruce Wayne, was the unofficial leader of the group. The Dick Grayson, with his car as dark as the night. the darkness of the car was only disrupted by a few brilliant blue decals. the most memorable one was always the striking blue silhouette of a bird on the hood. (“Nightwing,” Dick affectionately called the car.)

Koriand’r, an incredibly kind woman with hair that was almost more fiery than Bart’s own. her car was a vibrant purple with flames racing along the sides as if it’d caught fire. (“they call me Starfire”, she told him once when caught him fawning over the car, awed as ever. “i like to imagine that if i drive just fast enough, i can see flames.”)

Victor Stone, who indulged all his questions and answered every single one with the same enthusiasm. he’d lost an arm to an accident, but replaced it with an amazing cybernetic one. his designed his own car to have similar robotic style. incredibly futuristic and constantly updated with the best parts he could find. (“someone called me Cyborg,” Victor told him once while working on the car. he let Bart sit in the garage with him, occasionally offering whatever help he could. “i think it was an insult at first, but the name sort of stuck, kind of like with the Titans. so i made it my own.”)

and at last, Garfield Logan, the youngest of the group. with his dark green hair and toothy smile, Garfield was always quick to make him feel welcome and make him laugh with an endless amount of dumb jokes. his charisma and bright personality showed in his car. like his hair, it was a deep green. when he turned it on, the underneath glowed a neon green. black pawprints walked along the sides towards the end of the car. (“they’re actually tiger pawprints,” Gar corrected him once, looking excited as ever to explain. “there’s a few other animals too. i wanted it to look like the animals were really here, or like maybe i’m the animal? i dunno. i told everyone to call me Beast Boy, so i guess this would be my beast.”) they had another friend, Raven, that never raced with them. dressed in black with dark hair that he swore shone purple in certain lights, Raven was much more quiet and reserved than the rest of the group. Bart enjoyed her rare company, despite it being more of a companionable silence. he’d take it none the less. sometimes if Bart was able to hang out with Wally and the group outside of racing nights, he’d occasionally he’d bring along homework, a book, or a comic to read if Wally was meant to be busy at some point. he’d end up hanging out in one of their apartments while they were busy, and sometimes Raven would be there. they’d quietly read in each other’s company, never having to say a word. he’d asked Wally once why she didn’t race too. Wally had only laughed. (”we’re lucky that she doesn’t,” Wally told him, “if Raven raced, we’d all be doomed, trust me. you should never underestimate her.” Bart figured that meant that Raven was an undeniable part of the group too. he hoped he’d see her race one day.)

all of them were amazing, but Bart was a little stunned by each of them had their own unique style. they all had their own story and reason for being inspired to race. the one thing they all shared though was that same spark in their eyes Wally had.

needless to say, Bart would try to spend as much time with them as possible to try and learn from them.

his dream was to race, but his other dream was now to become just like them. he wanted to be a Titan.

he was too young at that time, but he would aim to prove that he could be good enough to join them one day. he would be a Titan.

or at least, he’d be close enough to being a Titan, he’d decide upon meeting a few other faces around his age, but that’s a story for another day.             ...and that’s all we have for now, folks!

if you’re wondering why i chose only those Teen Titans, i didn’t want to make the group too big. i originally considered the OG Young Justice group, but found that i really wanted to save Superboy (Conner Kent, my beloved) to be apart of Bart’s friend group later. (not to mention, i REALLY wanted to talk about Street Racer! Kori existing in this AU. Beast Boy’s another favorite that i just HAD to include, thus we have the animated Teen Titans team, just with Wally and Dick having the same kind of friendship as kids like in YJ.)

let me know if you want any more from his idea! i’d love to know what you guys think of all this so far. if you ever want me to talk about anyone in particular, please feel free to ask! i’d totally be up to come up with more ideas! i’d also love to know if anyone has any thoughts about other characters might be like from this AU!

i really just came up with all this on the fly, but i’m honestly becoming attached to this AU already, so i’d be more than excited to talk more about it!

thanks for reading!!

[chariflare]

summawy of manga i redd wecently owo *glomp*

(apologies for the excessive censoring. i’m not sure how tumblr search works rn and would rather be safe than sorry) 

muscles & m4gic (m4shle): decently funny comedy-fantasy manga if you can stand that it’s a parody of the books by the world’s most famous tr4nsphobe. character art is functional but a bit mediocre imo. on shonen jump online

cws: inc*st jokes, harry pobber

other notes: if you like comedy manga, please.... read spy f4mily (cws: inc*st jokes), which is leagues better than this

s*gar d0g life: manlet uni student x c*p romance one-shot that i picked up for my quarterly “consume something shitty for a laff” thing. i actually liked it quite a bit and it’s nice to read another consensual non-teen romance.... if you can ~put aside~ the fact that it’s cops LMAO

cws: c*paganda (”your friendly & moral neighbourhood guy who always has your best at heart :)”), explicit s*xual content

other notes: article on c*paganda in manga/anime

given: the artist comic’d the SHIT out of this gay band drama. i’ve only read one volume but i really really really like it

cws: su1cide (there may be others in later volumes)

my love m1x-up (k1eta hatsukoi): funny enough but not made for people who can’t put up with annoying love geometry (me); i’ll probably read more though

st4r-crossed: junko is (imo) incredibly skilled at expression and comedic storytelling, but.... like..................... her choice in topics................................. this one is slightly less heavy on Objectionable Content than k*ss h*m not me (maybe.) but the characters and plot are lacking a certain something. the love interest doesn’t have much going on. feels kinda arbitrary & directionless

i used to write a LOT of “review” posts. out of capitalism-induced exhaustion (and anxiety-induced social media avoidance) more than anything, i just.... stopped? nowadays i feel like a bit of a Know-Nothing Illiterate Clown but it would be nice to start sharing opinions again. (regardless of who does or does not read them; and preferably in a better format than this) 

and that’s it

[catxsnow]

CHALLENGE PT. TWO G.L.

Requests: hi i just read ur gar x reader and i'm literally weak it was so cute omg. is it to early to beg for a part 2 with fluff and jason being a little jealous bitch lollll it can be shorter idk how many ideas u have i just love the way u wrote gar -xoxo!

for part 2 to challenge u could have gar and y/n in different domestic scenarios being cute n in love and jason trying to break them up bc he's jealous and can't understand why their dating since they're both so different but in the end realising they're both perfect for each other and they all live happily ever after the end.

Warning: Jason being jealousssss

A/N: Part two to Challenge! I’m terrible at multiple part imagines but I hope I did this good enough justice! 

Word Count: 3.1k

Part One

Jason Todd didn't understand.

He didn't get how someone like you would ever end up with someone like Gar. Not that he believed Gar to be a bad person or anything, but the two of you were so different. You were confident, outgoing, and never could say no to a fun time. Gar on the other hand, was way more shy than you were, he was hesitant to get out of his comfort zone, and he was the biggest nerd.

The two of you were just polar opposites. So, when you got together, he was more than shocked to see how well you got along. He had known about your friendship, but never realized how close it was. He found himself getting irritated every time he saw the two of you together.

The first time that he was annoyed by your dating was when you were making dinner in the kitchen together. Even though you cooked for the whole team, the process seemed like such a private time with Gar. He would sit at the counter watching your every move until you had asked him to do something for you.

The moment that he was done with the task, he would stand behind you with his hands around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. He would reach his neck around as far as he could to kiss your lips. In anyone else eyes, the action would have been adorable. In Jason's, it was disgusting.

He had walked in while Gar was leaning against the counter, chatting with you and looking at you as if you were the utter love of his life. Jason didn't say anything, but the flush in his cheeks spoke loud enough: he was jealous.

Jason had lost the challenge, but he wasn't ready to give up quite yet.

The second time Jason was irritated was when he was sparring against you. It wasn't unusual for the two of you to fight against one another, but this time he had just been frustrated with you. Gar was going against Dick just on the other side of the room and the two of you would constantly be exchanging looks.

Between fights, whenever you had the upper hand, any time that you weren't losing you were throwing winks or kisses towards your boyfriend. Jason was furious. This was supposed to be a serious training session and you were just goofing off. You were never serious anymore since you started dating Gar.

When he finally had enough of it, he had stormed off after yelling at you. Though your feelings weren't hurt, Dick still ran after him to go scold him. That left you and Gar in the training room.

"You gonna release the beast this time?"

"In your dreams," Gar rolled his eyes. He still refused to fight against you as the tiger. Dating you had made him even more protective of you and that meant that he wasn't going to do anything that would purposefully harm you.

"Oh baby, you know it." Gar's face lit up bright red. He was still getting used to your confidence and your ever lasting need to try and get him to blush. Almost every time, it worked. He was a constant flustered mess around you and you loved it.

"Stop," Gar whined. You raised your fists up and jumped around the mat. He followed your lead and the two of you circled each other, antsy on who was going to make the first move. If he was to be honest, it was always you, and he didn't mind that.

"Make me," you winked.

><

By the the fifth time that Jason had been annoyed that the two of you were dating, he had completely lost it. He was out for the night, causing whatever chaos in the town. By the time that he got back home, he was nothing but disappointed and disgusted.

You and Gar had decided to have a stay at home date night which included movies, popcorn, and far too much laughter. Dating Gar might have been the best choice that you had ever made in your life.

You were happier than you had been in years. No longer having to keep your feelings hidden brought a weight off your chest and you felt as if you could breathe once more. Not that you wanted to curse it, but things were going perfect.

Gar opened up to you more than he ever had before. He trusted you with his secrets and you trusted him with yours. The friendship that you guys had was taken to a whole new level. You couldn't even think about what life would be like without him - even it was only a couple weeks since you had been officially started dating.

When it came down to it, he was your best friend first, and losing him without the addition of a relationship would have broken you. Now, you felt as if a literal piece of you would go missing if he left.

"(Y/N)," Gar dragged out your name. You were sprawled across the couch with a bowl of popcorn by your side. Everyone else was out that night which meant that you and Gar had the whole place to yourselves. You decided to take advantage of the big screen and have a much needed, relaxing, movie night. "You're taking up the whole couch."

"I know," You smirked at him. The popcorn was moved out of the way and you opened your arms up for Gar to lay beside you. He grinned and nearly leaped into the space. Gar covered your face in kisses before landing on your lips for a quick peck. You were completely encased by him and the blanket.

This was the first time that you had the tower all to yourselves and you had to admit that you were a little more than excited. Your mind wandered to everything that the two of you could be doing and you weren't sure where you wanted to start. Gar had decided for the both of you with a movie night.

He picked some sort of comedy movie that was sure to be filled with cringe-worthy jokes and raunchy humor - exactly what the two of you needed. After the rest of the team figured out that you two were dating - which didn't didn't long - they had endlessly teased you for it. Rachel bugged you with every chance she got, Dick lectured you as if you were still kids, and Jason... he was a little frustrated at the situation.

Gar knew about Jason's feelings towards you, but he also knew that you were nothing but a conquest for him. He didn't want to date you - he wanted to sleep with you. That wasn't who you were, and Gar knew it. As much as he was worried about Jason taking you from him, he knew that he trusted your more than anyone.

Throughout the movie, Gar couldn't keep his hands off of you. The rested on your waist, played with your hair, intertwined with your fingers, and once he even dared to try and tickle you. You never realized how much of a touchy person he really was until dating him. You didn't mind - not when it came to him.

Even when you got up to go get another drink for yourself, he followed behind you with is arms around your waist making it much harder to walk anywhere. Gar had gotten you, and he wasn't planning on letting you go anytime soon.

Just before the movie ended, Jason had come back to the tower. Neither of you had heard him come in until he loudly groaned at the sight of you. You were still wrapped up with Gar, not even paying attention to the movie as you left kisses up his neck. It distracted him enough from both the movie and Jason.

"Seriously guys? Get a fucking room," Jason complained. Gar had nearly fell off the couch in surprise and you couldn't help but giggle. PDA was something that never bothered you, at least not nearly as much as it bothered Gar.

"Sorry, Jay," you apologized. "Movie's almost over. You can stick around for another one if you want."

"Hard pass," Jason rolled his eyes. "I'll watch a movie with you another night though." You could tell from the tone in his voice that he meant you, and only you. Jason never had a particular problem with Gar until the second you two started dating. It was more evident than ever that he didn't like the younger man.

"Yeah, maybe another time," you partially brushed him off. His smile held hope that what you said was true. Jason gave you a little wink before heading back to his own room. "He's impossible."

"Tell me about it," Gar rolled his eyes. He pecked your lips once more and was caught off by a yawn. You giggled a little at him - the sound of it lit up his face. Gar was absolutely entranced by every sound and movement you made. "Do you wanna stay over in my room tonight?"

"No offense Gar, but last time I stayed in your room I was up half the night sneezing from your tiger hair," you tried to hold back a laugh. "However, you are more than welcome - if not encouraged - to stay in my room tonight."

"It's not my fault I shed!" Gar laughed with you. "I guess I'm going to have to take you up on that offer." He leaned down to peck you - but you had kept him close and deepened the kiss. Your hands ran through his green hair and enticed a quiet moan as you tugged on the roots.

"Guys! Seriously!" Jason yelled. He had come back to the kitchen to get a glass of water only to see the two of you making out on the couch. That was his breaking point. He could deal with the hand holding, the hugs, even the pecks. But seeing the two of you make out on the couch where he sat, too? That was far past his limits.

Jason scowled at the two of you. His eyes darted between you and the mess of Gar's hair that you made. He was not impressed - that was easy to tell.

"I'm tired of seeing you two together! It's non-fucking stop," Jason expressed himself. You knew he had been upset at you and Gar for getting together, but you didn't think that he was holding this much back. "Grow the fuck up, there's other people living here too this isn't just your home. You don't see me having girls hanging off my arm everywhere do you? No. Stop being so, so gross!"

Jason stormed off leaving the two of you to sit there in shock. Jason was jealous of your relationship with Gar. He always had a crush on you - you knew that from the start. However, seeing the two of you together being a cute couple? You didn't realize how badly this could hurt his feelings.

As much of an asshole that Jason was, he didn't deserve for you and Gar to rub your relationship in his face.  And it wasn't like you meant to. Everything with Gar just flowed so easily, you barely even noticed that you were shoving your relationship down everyone's throats. However, the other's didn't see it that way, only Jason.

"I feel bad," you muttered. Gar rested his back against the couch as you snuggled into his side.

"Why?"

"Jason's always been nice to me, I don't want to stop being friends with him just because we're dating," you explained yourself. Gar squeezed your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. He didn't realize he could care for you even more since the short few weeks that you two had been dating.

Gar wanted you to have the world. He always wanted that for you. It seemed that every day his only task was to make you smile at least once. Whether it was him being his usual nerdy self, or surprising you with something he found in the store. He always managed to make you happy, and he wanted to keep you that way.

If that meant that he would have to deal with you and Jason being friends, then so be it. Even if he was jealous as soon as the older man walked into the room, he trusted you. There was a reason that you choose him over Jason.

"You know Jason. He gets frustrated and he over reacts, I'm sure he'll cool down soon."

><

It took a while for Jason to cool down afterwards, but he eventually did. 

It seemed like he spent the next couple weeks trying to sabotage your relationship. Going extra hard on you at training, taking away your time with Gar to help him with something, even getting one of you to do some stupid mundane task for him to split you apart.

He was trying his best to prove that he was right, you two didn't belong together. Yet, it seemed like after every pursuit he had, it seemed to only bring you closer together. You and Gar were the opposite of what Jason believed you to be - you were perfect together. While you brought out more confidence within Gar, he kept you grounded.

The two of you may have been polar opposites, but that didn't mean that you were any less good for each other. Jason had to learn that the hard way - and he did. It took him a while to see that you two were truly meant to be together. Even after all of his frustrated comments and actions, he realized that he was wrong.

Which was why after shamefully telling you that Gar wasn't good enough for someone like you, he had finally broke. Jason had seen the heartbroken look on Gar's face when he walked in just at the wrong time and the rage filled look on yours. He had known he messed up the second the words came out of his mouth.

That night you had spent the night with Gar wrapped around your arms and his head on your chest, telling him repeatedly that there was no one else that you would rather be with than him.   He felt like Jason was right - he wasn't good enough for someone like you. Gar couldn't be more wrong.

"Gar, don't listen to him. You said yourself, Jason's jealous, he's gonna say stupid shit that he doesn't mean," you assured. Your fingers ran through his hair in hopes to comfort him. "Beside's what's it matter what he thinks? It's me 'n you right? That's all that matters."

"Still doesn't mean I don't feel shitty," Gar grumbled. He buried his head into the blanket covering you both and sighed.

"You want me to go beat him up?" You asked, only half joking. Gar just let out a grunt in response. You hoped that the comment would have made him feel better. "I know what's gonna make you believe me that what Jason said was bull," you suddenly came up with.

Gar peaked his head out from the blanket just enough to stare up at you. He knew the look on your face and that it meant that you were up to no good. There were many things running through your mind as to how you could prove this to him - many of them ideas where you knew you'd need to lock your door - but this one in particular was nothing like that.

You ripped the blanket off of you and headed over to your dresser. Gar watched as you rummaged through to find whatever it was that you wanted. His gaze went from your bare legs all the way up your body - followed by a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

Rain pattered against your window and filled the silence in the room. Finally, you pulled out a small CD case which contained a singular disk. Gar looked at you with raised eyebrows, but you said nothing as you went to the old player in the corner of your room and popped it in.

A grin fell on your cheeks as the music began. You spun around to face Gar and stuck your hand out for him to grab. "Dance with me?" You asked. Gar matched your smile and accepted your hold. "This is the playlist from my parent's wedding... Haven't been able to listen to it in a long time but I figured if there's anyone I would want to listen to it with, it's you."

Your hand was encased in his, the other on his shoulder while his was on your hip. The two of you slowly paced around your room. Your head rested against his chest and you couldn't help but sway a little to the beat. This was perfect, these were the moment that you would forever cherish with Gar.

As the song neared ending, your looked up to meet his eyes. They were glassy, but held no sadness within them. You let go of his hand and placed both of your palms against his cheeks. Gar leaned into your touch. You cranked your chin up to meet his lips.

This kiss had been different than the rest of them. This was slow, each second filled with every ounce of adoration you had for this boy. You wanted him to know that he had no reason to fear for Jason, it was him that you wanted. Gar was everything to you, and upon realizing that in only a matter of weeks? It had to mean that this was going to be permanent.

You pulled away from the kiss. Gar was grateful for you. You knew how to cheer him up even when he didn't realize that he needed it. You knew him better than he thought, and that was what his weakness was. You were his weakness.

"Believe me now? Garfield Logan?" You asked.

"I think I'm going to need another kiss, just to be sure."

"I think I can manage that."

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

Fic: after the in-between

a spur-of-the-moment, thoroughly indulgent titans fic!

Summary: Trigon is defeated, and our heroes are on their way to start a new era of the Titans. However, Trigon isn’t quite done with them yet.

Warnings: set after 2.01: Trigon, so spoilers for the same. plentiful swearing. vomiting. a thoroughly indulgent sick!fic ft. dick, jason, rachel and gar.

-

About half a day into their ambitious cross-country road trip from Gotham to San Francisco, Dick starts looking at Jason in that weird, scrunched-up way of his, like he’s sucking on a lemon and hates it but is just masochistic enough to finish it off. It goes on for long enough that Jason starts to get irritated; they’ve barely started what’s bound to be a long-ass journey, his head is already pounding from listening to the kids chattering away in the backseat, and now Dick’s definitely going to wrap the car around a tree if he keeps taking his eyes off the road to look at Jason like—like—

“You’re sick,” Dick says.

Rachel and Gar stop whispering so fast that Jason’s brain adds a cartoony tyre-screeching noise to the silence that follows. “What?! I’m—” he swallows around an inexplicably dry throat, “I’m not.”

Dick nods, looks straight ahead and says, like he hasn’t even heard Jason, “We’ll stop at the next motel we find, get on top of this before it gets worse.”

He sounds very matter-of-fact about it, like he’s just stated some bald, obvious truth and is just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. For all the stories that Jason’s heard of Bruce and Dick’s epic dust-up, Dick sounds exactly like Bruce, right down to talking about feeling unwell like it’s a goddamn mission. “For fuck’s sake, I’m fine,” he says, which would’ve sounded very convincing had his voice not cracked around fine.

“I could use a bit of healing time, anyway,” Gar says before Dick can reply. “So a stop right about now sounds good.” He works his bruised jaw a bit, winces.

“Yeah, a break sounds good,” Rachel says, and Jason’s used to being talked around instead of talked to, sure, but it still stings that these two… children want to treat him like he’s the unreasonable one.

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Jason says, sullenly. “We’ll stop.”

“I wasn’t really asking for a vote, but sure,” Dick says, amused.

By the time they check in at a motel, Jason’s definitely feeling more than a little light-headed, and he’s sweating under his layers even as the chill wind cuts at his face like knives. He doesn’t know when he started leaning on Dick, but he’s definitely grateful when the guy guides him in front of the toilet when the nausea hits like a battering ram. The first, convulsive wave of vomit burns his throat and nose, and he thinks he whimpers a little bit—which, hello, mortifying. He feels a large hand squeeze the back of his neck and Dick says, “you’re all right,” with the same, annoying, Batman-esque matter-of-factness, but this time it reminds Jason of the first time Batman stood between him and evil, and it’s more reassuring than anything.

That’s the last thing Jason is properly aware of for a while. He hears disjointed voices, feels flashes of intense heat and cold, coarse motel sheets against his legs and the press of fingers against his lips, trying to get him to open his mouth. His heart thunders against his ribs as he watches horned shadows creep across the ceiling, his body numb and paralysed and utterly helpless. He’s Jason Todd—he’s motherfucking Robin—but right now all he wants is to burrow into some place cool and dark and safe until the storm passes.

The storm passes. Eventually.

At some point he opens his eyes to a very tired-looking Dick Grayson peering into his face and says, “Dude, personal space.”

Dick leans back in his chair and lets out a long breath. “Well,” he says, “I’m glad I don’t have to go back to Bruce to tell him that I lost his Robin in less than a day.”

Jason bites his tongue on a sharp retort; he thinks Dick might be joking, but he’s been a sour-faced whiner for so goddamn long that it’s kind of hard to tell. Instead he settles for asking, “how long?” and coughs.

Rachel hands him a glass of blessedly cool water as Dick says, “About half a day. It kind of came on real quick and left just as quickly. Rach, uh—she thinks that this might be some kind of side-effect of Trigon possessing you.”

Jason almost chokes on a mouthful of water. “—the fuck?!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees both Rachel and Gar flinch, and feels sorry for all of about three seconds. “Trigon’s presence lingered in all of us for some time—I could see it,” Rachel says. “But you’re clean now.”

“That’s good to know,” Jason says, “but how about a heads-up next time, huh? A little hey, Jason, I think my shitty father just gave you a case of the demon-flu, so watch out for that or something.”

Gar glares at him while Dick heaves a sigh. “Jason.”

“I’m just saying.” Jason shrugs. “Besides—I’m not the only one who got whammied by that monster. How come you guys are not spewing your guts all over the place?”

Dick levers himself painfully out of his chair and starts to walk to the other end of the room. “Maybe you’re just that annoying,” he says with a wry smile, and oh yeah, Jason definitely prefers broody-asshole Dick to this.

“Maybe that stick up your ass gives you immunity,” Jason says, which earns a snicker from Gar.

Dick turns, opens his mouth like he’s going to say something—then his eyes roll up in his head, and he collapses.

Rachel is at his side in an instant, crying out his name. Jason jolts out of bed, his sore muscles protesting, and settles ungracefully at Dick’s side. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Dick is sick—and has probably been that way for a while. He’s burning up, there’s a sort of chesty whine at the end of every breath that’s getting more and more pronounced by the second, and they can’t really get him to wake up all the way. Jason’s first big adventure outside of Bruce’s bat-bubble has gotten off to a really shitty fuckin’ start.

Gar hovers near them, looking warily down at Dick. Jason hasn’t exactly missed the way Gar flinches every time Dick talks to him, or the way he can’t really bring himself to meet Dick’s eyes. He’s pretty sure that Dick’s noticed, too, and decided to push that uncomfortable conversation further down the road to deal with, which, you know, makes sense. “What’s wrong with him?” Gar asks.

“He’s an idiot,” Rachel says fiercely, making Jason jump. “He was possessed the longest—and he’s been driving practically non-stop since then. He’s been ill all this time, and he didn’t say a word.”

Gar relaxes a little. “Of course he didn’t—it’s Dick. He could be beaten half-to-death and in the middle of drug withdrawal and he’d still insist on having the wheel.”

“At least Kory set him right last time.”

“Yeah. God, I miss her.”

“Me too. You think we should call her, make sure that Hank and Dawn aren’t—”

Jason clears his throat loudly. He’s used to being out of place wherever he ends up—he’s made a skill out of making his presence known anyway—but maybe standing over a possibly dying ex-Robin is not the best place to make either of those points. “Help me lift him up,” he says. “We need to get him on the bed.”

Between the three of them, they manage to get him lying down on a bed. He hasn’t really woken up, and Jason’s worried that they’ve got a concussion to worry about on top of the brain-melting demon fever. He props Dick into a semi-reclining position with some pillows to ease his wheezy breathing, manages to force a couple of spoons of liquid fever-reducer into his mouth, and places a damp cloth on his forehead. Not that that cloth is going to do a thing to reduce the fever, but from Jason’s experience, it usually feels pretty damn good.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Gar says, staring at him.

Jason shrugs, thinking of Alfred and feeling a strange pang in his chest.

A few hours later, the fever reduces enough for Dick to wake up. Rachel’s sitting at his bedside, asleep, head pillowed in her arms next to his hand. Gar’s curled up on the couch behind her, snoring. Dick opens his eyes, blinks blearily at the room. He sees Rachel and Gar first, and smiles—so softly, so fondly, that Jason feels a rush of irrational anger.

Finally, Dick turns to him. “You okay?” he asks, in a hoarse whisper.

You don’t have to put on the martyr act for me, Jason thinks, nastily. Instead he says, “Doing better than you.”

“Mm.” Dick closes his eyes; his face spasms, pained. “Give me a day—we’ll be good to go.”

“Sure,” Jason says. “But we’re taking turns driving.”

Dick gives a lazy half-smile. “Not exactly the Bat-mobile.”

“You’d probably be better off driving the Bat-mobile sick and exhausted. It’s got auto-pilot and it’s virtually crash-proof.”

“Oh. Right.” Dick looks at him, his eyes glinting in the moonlight streaming through the window. “That’s why you get the Bat-mobile and not the Bugatti.”

“Shut up and sleep.”

[gtgrandom]

Where Young Justice: Outsiders went wrong

(And before you tell me to just stop watching if I don’t like it - I’ve been supporting the show since 2011 by creating a significant amount of content and giving back monetarily. I have every right to critique the writing, thank you).

Honestly, I think they pulled their act together in the finale, and this season left me much more satisfied than I anticipated. That being said, there are some issues I want to address.

Major flaws:

Overabundance of characters

Undeveloped Relationships

Lack of Continuity

Problematic Representation (getting better)

Weak Dialogue 

Lower Quality Animation

The Message

Overabundance of characters

I think we can all agree on this one. There were far too many characters in season 2, but season 3 is laughable. It’s hardly a story anymore. Instead it’s an episodic series featuring new heroes each episode to appease niche comic fans.

There’s a formula for a superhero show (and any group-oriented tale in general), and that’s having a central team of five or less. Then you can introduce one or two new characters max per episode as side characters or villains. But you always circle back to your main team. YJ did a nice job of this in season one. So did most CW superhero shows before they made the same mistake of expanding their cast to make their writing task easier. (Yes, easier - new characters means you can stop developing old ones, especially with time jumps).  YJ started to narrow down the team by the end of the season, but it still left many mains as side characters / aesthetics. 

It’s great seeing these characters brought to life - I won’t deny it. But you can’t delve deep if you have this many. You can’t focus on character development or meaningful relationship development (hence why nearly every ship was established off screen). Furthermore, you frustrate fans when you focus on one group more than another. With a smaller cast you can always count on appealing to your audience because their "fave” is always present in some way. In many ways, fans feel like they’re being dragged along simply waiting for their character to pop up because of a one time cameo. It’s not fair to the audience.

The relationships

I think the only romantic relationships we’ve seen develop on screen are:

Violet/Brion

Spitfire

SuperMartian

Robin/Zatanna

sort of Roy/Jade

- and all but one were introduced in season 1. 

The others were simply introduced as a couple with little to no previous interaction. Like:

Tim/Cassie

Dick/Babs

Jaime/Traci

Bart/Ed

Kaldur/Wyynde

Gardita

M’gann/La’gaan

Mal/Karen

That is not how you write romance. You don’t stick it in there for the sake of it. You have to show us why they work, how they got there, and why we should care.  I’m not saying there HAS to be romance, but if there is, it still has to be written well. 

Continuity

This begins to overlap into the next issue, which is continuity.  I understand that Outsiders is not necessarily a new chapter to Young Justice, but if you are going to call it Young Justice Season 3, then I expect story lines to bleed over beyond just villainous deeds.  

Let’s look at Dick Grayson, for instance.  He’s one of the only mains who has had a very consistent, though shallow, character arc throughout the series.  First he wants to lead, then fears it because of the sacrifices he would have to make - because he didn’t want to be Batman.  In season 2 though, he becomes his worst nightmare.  He risks the lives of his friends, lies to his team, and ends up losing his best friend anyway.  And in season 3, we actually get a little bit of continuity here with Dick mourning Wally and being afraid to take on another team after season 2.  It could have been expanded upon, but it was still present, and I applaud the writers for that.  Especially for driving home his leadership qualities at the end there.

Now, what about the other characters, specifically those introduced in season 2?  This season is called “Outsiders,” and yet, it seems to only focus on the original team and Violet’s new group.   

What about Bart’s entire arc of coming back, stopping the apocalypse, and then losing Wally, his mentor?  What about Jaime’s home life and the lasting effects of being turned into a villain who nearly killed all his friends?  What about TIM and his role as the new leader??  Where did that plotline go?? Why is the unfamiliar Beast Boy now the leader of this Outsiders group?  How did Ed overcome his anger issues and repair his relationship with his dad?  How did Jade go from being a supportive wife and mother into the opposite?   

The writers tried to avoid all these problems by giving us a time jump.  But that’s just lazy writing if you don’t take the time to answer how things have changed!    

Also, I’ve said this before, but continuity isn’t simply having characters mourn a dead character.  You can’t keep using that plot device to give heart to the narrative.  If that’s your only source of true pathos...and that character is dead...then you’ve got a problem. 

The representation

Okay, I’ll admit they saved their asses with Kaldur. I love my wholesome pansexual rep. Would I have preferred to see his relationship occur with a character we’d already been introduced to outside the comics? Yes. But I’ll take it.

Disappointed with Ed/Bart and Bluepulse. They could have shown us more, but they didn’t. They could have given us a story, but they didn’t.  And don’t hit me with “this is a children’s show - we’re lucky to get what we get” BS.  Because it’s not anymore.  This show is literally written by adults for adults.

I really don’t want to talk about the whole Halo/Harper kiss because it was just so wrong in so many ways, but it needs to be addressed. So, first of all, if you excuse cheating in any capacity, shame on you. I don’t care what the characters are going through or how old they are. You don’t both recognize that you have significant others and then proceed to make out!! Second, what the hell?? You’re going to have the first lgbt content be a bisexual stereotype of two girls cheating on their boyfriends (and two characters who have only interacted in one episode before??) Not to mention, underage drinking and gun use? That sends the wrong message to the audience, even if the teens were reprimanded.  

Also, Halo is supposedly non-binary, and yet they explained it away by technology, so idk, I’m hesitant to count it as legitimate rep. I still think it was a good discussion to have. But yeah...

Finally, Halo is not Muslim rep after all.  She’s a hijab wearing character, but she does not identify with her faith or her culture. She outright rejects it in her scene with Harper. So...what? Is she diversity points that you can continue to violently kill off over and over?  Not a fantastic way to treat POC. I don’t think the creators meant any harm by it, but it’s something they need to consider going forward.

(I do appreciate the number of POC characters that have been introduced however. Especially the Latinx and black characters. This show has improved its diversity. But without proper characterization, they’re sort of just...there).

Dialogue

I can’t be the only one who cringed through entire episodes this season?  Some episodes had stellar writing. But the bad ones were very, very bad.   Obviously, not every joke is going to stick the landing, but if you’re going to kill off your beloved comic relief character, you have to have a better backup plan.   

Like, do you guys remember how witty some of the lines from the pilot were?  The whole “Speedy” vs. “Kid Flash” debate in the opening sequence?  You can tell how much effort went into those scenes.  How much love was given to those characters. Because they knew that was their only chance to hook the audience, to get a green light for a full season.  So they put everything into character development and plot - and now they’ve lost so much of what made the show precious in the first place.  (It’s still precious, but it’s tainted in many ways for me now).

Animation

It’s gone downhill. That’s really all I can say without being mean.  Some episodes seem slightly better than others, but if you compare the animation from 3x01 to an episode like Failsafe...there’s just no comparison.  I could hardly watch Wally’s scene without frowning at the frame rate.

Message

I don’t understand what the show is telling us anymore (or I didn’t, before Black Lightning gave a very “on the nose” speech about what it is that we were supposed to take away from this season).

I mean this has always been an issue with the show, but at least it was a little clearer in season 1.  Then, we had several themes:

Found family (+ Actions speak louder than heritage)

Don’t call us sidekicks (AKA the kids can make a difference)

Secrets are poison (They can tear a team apart. Trust in friends)

Season 2 was a little convoluted...and sort of just recycled material. 

Secrets are poison (dammit, Dick)

You are in charge of your own destiny (Jaime/Connor)

Sacrifice (Kaldur, Artemis, Wally, Bart...they all gave something up for the greater good).

But what is the message of season 3?

Secrets are still poison (Tara, Violet, Batman v. Wonder Woman team)

I suppose it’s about healing and letting others in?  Like how  Brion and Victor have both worked through their anger?  Artemis and Jefferson and Dick and Gar sorting through their grief...somehow...off-screen...(except for the episode devoted to Artemis saying goodbye to Wally.)

Perhaps...accepting yourself?  (Victor, Violet, Brion, Connor?)

Do you see my issue here?  How much harder it is to see what I’m supposed to take away from the show now?  I’m not saying there aren’t any good messages being told, but they’re difficult to interpret.  Sometimes that can be good.  But this time I’m on the fence.

Conclusion

I love many of the characters from this show, but the fandom acts as if the writing is impeccable, and that’s just not true.  Not everything is bad.  Some of it is still miles beyond other animated television (looking at you vld).  And I genuinely enjoyed about half of the episodes this season. But I think it’s important to recognize the flaws in media, as a writer myself, and as a consumer of these shows.  

Plz be civil in the comments, and understand that this is only my opinion. 

[3wisellamas]

Hey, remember my pet cracktheory that Darrell is a clone of Laserblast, or is somehow connected to him in some way?  I finally cleaned up and sorted out my full list of weird things I’ve noticed that they both have in common, or that otherwise support that, or are just weird about this stupid robot in general.  Because I wasn’t fucking joking about there being a lot of it.  Probably not gonna actually amount to anything, especially with not much series left, but meh.  It’s fun.  Enjoy.

---

Appearance/Body:

(Okay, I admit most of this section was pretty much killed by Darrell's canon human form in OK AU, which looked NOTHING like Laser at all.  But just in case...)

-Identical body shape/proportions to LB/SF, with wider torso/hips and very thin waist -- maybe a little smaller because he's a teen (and a robot)

-Very close head shape to LB/SF/PV:  square jaw (when it’s not exaggerated to make him cuter), similar rectangular shape and proportions if you include the braincase (since it would normally be inside his skull)

-LB's mask looks a LOT like Darrell's head, with the entire top half and most of the sides of his head covered and with circular ear...things

-That mask also tends to be quite expressive, almost functioning as a single eye sometimes

-Their big heavy boots are also kinda similar (Though honestly Darrell's boots look slightly more like Chip Damage's...)

-LB is based off of the superhero Cyclops, and Darrell is literally a cyclops

-Only robot that really seems to have an organic, human brain, and has human feet too along with Shannon -- even for just the feet, someone's DNA has to be cloned to make him, and not necessarily Boxman's.

-Darrell can grow stubble, according to that one tiny joke shot in Let's Watch the Boxmore Show; his face may be organic just like his brain and feet.  Also worth noting, the specific spots on the side of the jaw where LB's/SF's stubble shows are covered by metal for Darrell -- when comparing Darrell and LB, each character's most distinctive visible features (one eye and brain, cheek stubble) are covered up on the other!

---

Costumes:

-Darrell seems to enjoy dressing up as a HERO -- when he's in cowboy mode he plays a sheriff, and when the bots play Golden Statues he always plays the museum guard, both specifically hero roles!

-In fact, the costumes in general -- he definitely likes pretending he's someone else, rather than just being fashionable like his siblings.

-LB and SF both hide their eyes, and may have something unusual/distinctive about them, especially with Laser because of his eye-based powers.  LB!SF in particular would hide his if there was something that might immediately get him recognized as his former identity.  Perhaps only having one eye (hence the visor acting as one on occasion like I pointed out)?  (We got to see behind LB's mask once in Gar's fear sequence in Face Your Fears, with one red eye showing where the mask was broken, but there it did look like he had two.  However, Gar would never have seen what was ACTUALLY under there...)

---

Habits/Personality:

-LB was an anti-hero, willing to do some fucked-up things in the name of good, while Darrell is an anti-villain, who focuses more on just doing his job, having fun, and trying to make his father happy than crushing the heroes out of malice

-Darrell's also just a terrible villain in general.  Of course, he's directly killed another villain (or tried to anyway), and his idea of doing the most evilest thing was reporting Boxman's lies to the board and stopping him, AKA doing the RIGHT thing -- even with the betrayal, not very villainous of him, huh?

-Weird shared oral fixation?  There's a very unusual emphasis on food/mouth things with Darrell (his lowkey obsession with eating, spitting Boxman into the spitoon in his office, brushing his teeth), and LB's trademark was always having that lollipop in his mouth.

-Hugging soft cute animals, like Rippy and Fink

-Darrell writes in concrete in You're Level 100, and LB does the same using his eye laser in Glory Days (in the POINT theme song)

-Neither one is a big fan of new members of their respective teams right away.  LB refused to take junior members with him in both Glory Days and Let's Take a Moment, and doesn't seem to think much of them in either episode at all, aside from Silver Spark (and then, he still left her behind as one of his lookouts).  Darrell...just freaking HATES new siblings at first, having a problem with every single one he gets, at least the ones we've seen (we didn't get to see his and Mikayla's introduction).  He's also like this to siblings he considers inferior to him, to a point -- he and Shannon both got pretty jealous when Boxman started praising Jethro's "new moves."

---

Boxman stuff:

-Timing is correct, Darrell and the others were created right after LB disappeared according to Lad and Logic, since Boxman only drew the first three members in his original plans to attack POINT, and Gar was already building the plaza by the time Boxmore was opened.  This means the Boxbot quadruplets and KO were actually born around the same time, making them all 6-11 years old, roughly the same amount of time that's passed since the Sandwich Incident.

-Boxy was obsessed with POINT at that time (and still is, since he's kept the coordinates for POINT HQ memorized), and possibly LB himself (given his later attraction to PV)

-Boxman may also have some POINT tech and connections of his own?  First off, access to a huge supply of glorbs, the easiest and closest source of which Foxtail and Carol have been protecting and heavily monitoring, and are normally very hard for non-heroes to get their hands on.  Second, those boxes he sends the robots to attack in might use the same wormhole tech as POINT Prep's bus, since it looks a little similar both in transit and emerging at its destination, plus its driver sounds exactly like Ernesto.  And speaking of Ernesto, that one time he straight-up drew a POINT drone as part of a family portrait…

---

POINT stuff:

-There were six members of POINT before the Sandwich Incident, and LB was one of the original three, and seemed to function as co-leader alongside Foxtail.  There are six Boxbots, and Darrell was one of the original four, and kinda leads them in battle alongside Shannon, especially once he becomes CEO.

-And coincidentally, the original six members of POINT also share colors and in some cases roles with the Boxbots -- Shannon and Foxtail are orange, Greyman and Ernesto are purple, El-Bow and Jethro are blue, Rippy and Raymond are green, Silver Spark is...difficult but her hair is pretty distinctive and works with Mikayla for yellow, and of course, Darrell and Laser are red.  The robots' colors and relative ages even match POINT'S senior/junior members, with Greyman, Laser, and Foxtail representing three of the older Boxbots, and then Rippy, Silver Spark, and El-Bow representing the two newer ones and Jethro, who only recently was able to show his true personality/potential.

-"Junior Members" = "Junior Deputies"

-"Code Vermillion."  I made an entire post on this a while back, but to summarize, Vermillion is a bright, slightly orange-y red, and in most episodes is Darrell's exact color.  And Vermillion, as a red pigment, tends to darken over time into purple and black -- and SF and PV have connections to both glorbs (which Code Vermillion refers to), and to LB as well.

-Darrell has a bunch of weird similarities to Chip Damage as well, who is basically Laser's replacement at POINT, minus being the Charisma discipline rep:  Robots made right after LB got iced, green powers, special limited-edition costumes/POW cards, similar dark gray boots, the remote controls (Wisdom class blackboard for Darrell, Final Exams for Chip), possibly both made with actual brain tissue (The flashback to Chip's creation had a brain on one of Greyman's screens), etc.  Also, a dumb one, but...remember those Double-Dipped (KO and TKO?) Laser Chips (self-explanatory), that are "probably just a limited-edition" (Darrell).

---

Other assorted weird things:

-Darrell’s laser eye attachment shown in Stop Attacking the Plaza -- still being worked on in the episode (and it looks like it has been for a while, since it had been some time since Boxman was in that specific lab...), but used by a Big Darrell in the opening, where it produces a very similar (green) copy of LB's beam.

-Darrell is right-handed, in a left-handed family -- he's shown eating with his right hand in Stop Attacking the Plaza while everyone else is using their left, looks like he’s wielding a lightsaber right-handed in Plaza Film Festival, and draws with his right hand in Villains Night In.  Left-handedness is often associated with villains in fiction, so he may not be a full one?  (Definitely not as sinister as the rest of them, hehe.)  Though, some instances of Darrell using his left hand too, and other bots using their right, so I dunno how strong this particular point is.

-Line to keep an eye on:  "Just reboot yourself into a new body!  I do it all the time for funsies!" from Rad Likes Robots.  Related, Darrell reboots by exploding himself, which is how LB may have "died" and took on a new identity (if he's SF)

-Weird shit from Let's Not Be Skeletons:  Potato demonstrates a skeleton remote wearing a cowboy hat, and in addition to turning people into skeletons they remove powers, just like that red orb, and they also left Rad's and Enid's boots intact for some reason.  Darrell's also one of the biggest customers of the remotes, using his foes' weapons against them ("What do you say we snag more of them before they fall into the wrong hands?  We could even use them against our foes!")

-When we first saw TKO's power manifest in You're Level 100, it was while KO was trying to defeat a giant superpowered Darrell.  When we first saw TKO in physical form in Face Your Fears (as KO's "evil burp"), he was sent out to defeat a giant superpowered Laserblast head.  When we next saw TKO in, well, TKO (as his true self for the first time), he defeated another giant superpowered Darrell!

-Really dumb one, the letter right before C and D is B, so the acronyms LB and LCD may be a thing?

---

Turbo/SF/TKO connections, just in case those turn out to be related to Laser as well:

(Under the cut, since this is long enough already!)

-SF hints that negative emotions, particularly anger, fuel Turbo powers.  Darrell has quite a few jealousy and anger issues in general -- "Gets flustered by petty insults," HATES new younger siblings (or existing siblings showing him up and getting more of dad’s attention), etc -- and seems to be way more capable of mayhem than usual when running on these emotions.  They even gave him the power to defy his programming and (attempt to) kill Boxman!

-He can also have his power boosted by a ton in a very short amount of time, from level -4 up (down?) to level -100 and able to destroy the plaza in one shot, and for as brief as that level -100 thing was he STILL has yet to be topped as the most powerful villain in the entire series!  But, Boxman doesn't do it often -- even regular Big Darrells are implied to NOT be that powerful normally.  Perhaps he's holding Darrell back for a reason?

-A lot of emphasis on his brain, similar to TKO: the visible brain is obvious, he has the most noticeable hivemind, and he pilots Big Darrells from inside their braincases similar to how KO and TKO controlled Big KO (even the name's similar!) in TKO's House

-Also, he doesn't have to glitch or change colors with his mood like Shannon does, he can make decisions and go against his programming all on his own -- perhaps he runs mostly on that meat brain?  Or maybe his brain is actually a mass of pink glorbs like Jethro got in I Am Jethro that unlocked his intelligence and potential?  

-SF's speech to KO in TKO: "Everyone holds you back because they're afraid of your raw, natural ability.  They want you small and nice, blissfully unaware of your true potential."  Darrell in Lord Cowboy Darrell:  "Nobody's gonna hold me back."  Shannon to Darrell in Plaza Film Festival:  "Where do you think you got all that natural talent?"

-TKO ultimately came out of wanting recognition from his boss.  LCD ultimately came out of wanting recognition from his boss.

-That VERY noticeable purple glow in the "I'm the Daddy now!" scene in Lord Cowboy Darrell.  Like, to the point it seemed specially painted for emphasis, rather than the normal animation.  

-Also, Junior is pretty heavy evidence that Turbo powers do not necessarily = purple, as Junior's powers were all green (and so were Chip's Turbo-ish powerups!)  Darrell also has green powers (that even carried over to his human alternate in OK AU, despite Shannon and Raymond getting Enid’s and Rad’s exact same powers and colors), and is sometimes surrounded by Turbo-esque greenish lightning when he's angry, the best example being at the beginning of Legends of Mr Gar after being trash talked (remember that he can't take petty insults; he was PISSED there!)

-(If it looks like I’m insinuating Darrell’s secretly got more power under the hood than even he realizes, I absolutely am.)

-Darrell still has his dark hooded cloak from the pilot, which looks a little like SF's.

-Darrell's the only one who wasn't invited to Junior's funeral, and doesn't give half a shit, instead using it as an opportunity to betray people and take on a new identity.  Possibly like LB faking his own death, therefore not attending his own funeral, and taking on a new identity as SF?

-Sneaking through the vents = sneaking through the pipes (SF, maybe how LB survived given that pipe in Let's Take a Moment)?

-Weird broken halo imagery shared between both Darrell and SF in TKO.  (Not my observation actually, pointed out by @david-yells-about-cartoons )  Darrell's cloud halo thing in that episode also looks almost exactly like the clouds swirling above KO as he shoots a power fist for the first time at the end of Let's Be Friends…

[mnranger5]

Big Bass Bash 2019, The Boat Drama is Finally Over, Lake of the Ozarks, MO, 4/26/19 – 4/29/19

4/26/19

Early in the drive to Lake of the Ozarks, Aaron and I timidly joked about how it wouldn’t be our spring fishing trip if we didn’t have some kind of drama.  There is so much truth to that…  From blown out bearings, to malfunctioning trolling motors to dead batteries, we’ve experienced heartbreak on our trips that we’ve almost become accustomed to.  As we rolled down I-35 to Des Moines, something big was brewing…

Rewind to four weeks ago.  I pulled the Ranger out of the garage from it’s LONG winter slumber.  It was going to Lighthouse Motorsports for an oil change and tune up on the motor.  In the fall of 2018, I started having a weird issue where I’d lose power once I got up on plane.  I need that that fixed ASAP, before the spring trip to Missouri.  Lighthouse took about 2 weeks to finally diagnose the problem as a bad fuel filter.

T – minus two weeks until the fishing trip.  I picked up the Ranger from Lighthouse and went straight to the lake.  She fired up beautifully.  I idled through the Crystal Lake channel and gave her some throttle.  Immediately, I began experiencing the same power loss.  Nothing had been fixed.  In fact, it had gotten worse.  After limping one lap around the lake, the 2009 Mercury killed multiple times, even while idling.  I recall texting Aaron that I am sure the boat would be fine, but deep down, I wasn’t so sure…

Back to Lighthouse.  I was worried. After some more testing Lighthouse thought the problem might be a bad fuel pump.  Getting a new pump from Mercury could take several weeks due to it being on backorder.  This was a big problem.  They continued testing it at the shop while I contemplated a contingency plan.

Then Dyan opened a real can of worms: “What if you bought a new boat?”  Oh boy.  I quickly created a Craigslist/Marketplace add for my boat and furiously scoured the internet in search of a new boat.  But I am particular.  It had to be perfect.  The exact color, features and most of all, the right price.  About the time I came to the conclusion that I’d need to order a boat if I wanted to get all the options I was looking for, Lighthouse called me back.  They think the motor problem was just a bad $10 spark plug?  Serious?

Four days until departure, I picked up the Ranger and took her back to Crystal Lake.  She fired up without missing a beat and raced around lake sounding better than ever in the 7 years I’ve owned her.  Whew.  Crisis avoided.  Hopefully we can finally avoid some drama on the fishing trip….  For fun, I decided to leave my boat ad on the internet, just to see what kind of offers I might get...

The drive into the Ozarks was long and uneventful (in a good way).    We did make a mandatory stop at Bass Pro in Columbia for lures and licenses as well as a lunch stop which included this humongous 16” party sandwich.  

Aaron catches a fish that size on Saturday or Sunday, we will be driving home with some money!  As we continued the drive into Columbia, I told Aaron about the motor debacle and how it kind of “opened the door” for me to look at new boats and possibly sell my boat.  By this point in the drive I already had 3 people who saw my listing and had requested test drives when I returned from the trip.  In addition, I had a guy named “Greg”, who wanted me to cancel all my test drives because he was planning to buy it, sight unseen, no test drive necessary, as soon as I got home.  Okay, whatever you say Greg…

At 4:00, we arrived at Village Marina and dumped the boat into the lake.  It was bluebird sky with light winds and temps well into the 70’s.  Just a perfect afternoon for fishing.  And it wasn’t long before we began catching either.  Aaron and I both pulled in a couple of small bass each on the shakey head and drop shot.  About an hour into fishing Aaron hooked up with this chunker casting a shakey head up on the shoreline.  

We worked Jobson Hollow cove for a couple of hours before venturing toward the channel. 

Out near the primary points, we came across this monster long-nose gar.  It may have wound up in the boat a bit untraditionally, but no doubt, what a cool looking fish to see up close.  

This gar must have been nearly 40” long and close to 10 pounds.  Had I known the long-nose gar had teeth like these, I probably would not have been so eager to have my hand up near its huge mouth.  Yikes!

Once in the channel we actually had really good luck picking up a half dozen bass on soft plastics, including these couple of short ones. 

Once again, drop shot (4” pumpkin dreamshot) and shakey head (7” black & blue ribbontail) were really on fire.  

But, with BBQ ribs, au gratin potatoes, baked beans and Texas toast being served up hot at home, we blew across the glass-like lake to get some food in our bellies!  

And to top it off, home made chocolate chip cookies.  We’re eating good now!

4/27/19

5:30AM: Alarm clocks went off.  As Aaron and I contemplated our gameplan for the day, there were scattered thunderstorms in the area.  We took refuge under the covered dock, staying dry from the downpour.

The plan was to be the first boat on the Shady Oaks Resort cove just to the north of mom & dad’s house.  

We felt like our best chance to get a good fish in the morning would be working as much un-fished water as possible.  Then once other boats move in, and we’re no longer the first boat making casts on a particular area of water, it could be time to look elsewhere.  At 6:30, we took our first casts in the cove.  By 6:35, thunder boomed above use, and lightening magnificently lit up the sky.  And that was that.  

We made our way back over to the dock and decided to wait out the storm.  I can deal with a lot on the water – cold, wind, snow and rain – but I don’t take any chances with lightening.  So instead, while other anglers braved the heavy thunderstorm, Aaron and I made our way inside for quite possibly the best breakfast sandwiches being served on the lake.

As we conversed with mom and dad over breakfast, the rain pelted the metal dock just beyond the deck.  We were pretty lucky to have the comfort and convenience of 5 star accommodations and hospitality while all the other anglers were getting soaked and cold.  But, at least one of those anglers braving the elements weighed in a 7.93lb bass within the first hour of the tournament.  As Josh always says, “You gotta risk it to get the biscuit!”  This guy was risking some serious storms for a giant fish!  And it ended up being worth it.  That fish would go on to win the $100,000 Big Bass prize for the tournament.

Finally, around 7:30, Aaron and I were able to get out on the water under some light rain.  But it didn’t last long.  The cold and rain gave way to warm sunshine within the hour.  We fished the cove we had intended to start in, as well as a couple other bays in Jobson Hollow, picking up a couple of VERY short fish.  

Although the forecast was calling for extreme winds, at the moment, they were very light.  We made our way across the channel and began fishing main channel points at the Village of Four Seasons.  Aaron started chucking the Alabama Rig (Chandelier Rig) and almost immediate hooked up with this largemouth who was parked right on the shoreline.

We continued deeper into Four Seasons when the wind suddenly kicked up.  And it was fierce.  Sustained winds were 25mph out of the SE with gusts between 40-50mph.  It seemed like the winds in the channel were just as bad as the winds in the coves, so Aaron and I braved the rough waters and fished the rock ledges at mile marker 2.  I tried my best to keep the boat on a parallel line between us and the wall with about 30 feet of spacing.  Even though we were super close to the wall, the boat was situated in 40-70 FOW.  We were casting right up on the wall and slowing letting it fall down the shear cliff.  We picked up a flurry of fish, but none of them biggin’s.

We were getting pounded by the wind, so we decided to push back across the channel.  I could never have prepared myself for such a bumpy and chaotic ride. While the Ranger did fine slamming into the 3 foot waves, I broke the tip on one of my St. Croix rods, nearly lost another (if not for Aaron’s miraculous save) and broke the mount on my front trolling motor.  Uh oh, Greg is not going to be happy about that!

Back in Jobson Hollow, we desperately tried to find some quieter water, in the deepest parts of the cove we could find.  Unfortunately, the only fish swimming around there were the smallest fish in the lake.

We finished the day with not much to show for it except some sun and wind burn.  

We buzzed over the The Boathouse at Village Marina where we met up with Mom, Dad and Brianna for a couple of cold drinks before dinner.  

The Boathouse is definitely my new favorite watering hole on the lake!  

And little did we know, the feast that awaited us at home was fit for a king.

Yep, that is tenderloin roast beef with mash potatoes and green beans.  Off.  The.  Charts.  I am pretty sure I rolled off to my room directly from the dinner table.

4/28/19

Aaron and I were pretty confident in our approach to catch fish on Day 1, so we planned to continue it.  After all, we had caught WAY more fish than any of the other anglers we spoke to, so no need to change it up.  All we needed was a little luck that one of those bites was a 5+ pounder.

Once again, we started in my parent’s cove. This time working the point in our first casts.  I was pitching a drop shot while Aaron bounced a shakey head along the bottom.  On my first cast. I got bit and reeled in this feisty little two pounder with my parent house in the background.

A great way to start the day.  Made the windy, 40 degree morning a bit more bearable.  We cast everything in the tacklebox over the next two hours, not picking up a single nibble.  We worked way deep into the cove, which was packed with boats casting the spawning flats and pre spawn staging areas.  But we couldn’t muster another bite.

With only a single non-prize-worthy fish to show for the morning, we headed home for a hearty breakfast which was made to order!  Aaron went with the omelet, while I opted for the ham and eggs!  

This is like staying at an all-inclusive property!  Eat and drink whatever we want, whenever we want.  We feasted, warmed up, regrouped, and figured out a new game plan for the rest of the day.  

Aaron and I made our way to the shorelines of Birdsong Hollow.  We cast up and down this cove for nearly two hours picking up only one short fish.  We then changed directions and headed out to the choppy main channel.  We knew we’d get beat up in the big surf, but we felt like it gave us our best chance for catching a pre-spawn swamp donkey.  I was throwing the biggest bait I have, the YUM Flash Mob Jr, rigged similar to Aaron’s presentation yesterday.  Casting it on my 7’ heavy rod with 80lb braid, I was probably going to throw out my shoulder - but it would be worth it if we got a big strike.  Around noon, we got a strike, just not the giant we were looking for.

About the same time, Aaron hooked up with a fish on his spinnerbait.  The way this fish was spazzing in the water made it apparent it wasn’t a bass.  Instead, it was a nice little channel catfish.

We continued fishing the afternoon jumping from one spot to the next.  We worked a couple back creeks in Jackson Branch Cove as well as the rip rap around the Hawaiian Island.  Finally we made the trip back into Jobson Hollow where we finished the day pitching the docks around Village Marina.  

While I was getting hung up on submerged dock cables on nearly every cast, Aaron was busy catching this bass in front of the waterfall.  A good way to end the day.

We loaded the boat up at Village, and headed out to the Grand Glaize Park for the awards ceremony.  Finally, the sun was starting to warm things up, and attendance was much better this year than last.  I’d guess about 300 people were there which represents about 5% of the total anglers in the tournament.  

The 7.93lb bass hung on to win the event and was caught on a Crock-o-gator jig.  Rounding out the top four was a 7.11, 7.06 and 6.83.  Once again, these fish were caught using the same presentation Aaron and I used at various times thought the weekend.  Spinnerbait, shakey head (w/ 10” worm) and jig.  All it took was to drop the right bait on the right size fish at the right time.  Just as it happened to them, it could have just as easily happened to us.  That’s what makes this tournament so special.  Anybody can win on any given cast!

Unfortunately for us, gas money was not offered for MN anglers this year.  Instead they gave it to Colorado, California, Michigan and South Dakota.  But in an unexpected turn of events, my name was called for an early bird registration prize.  It was worth $500!!!

That night, we once again feasted.  Homemade Momma-cotti, salad and garlic toast.  To. Die. For.

Although the tournament weather left a bit to be desired, it was an absolute blast fishing the in the Big Bass Bash and staying with my parents again.  I can’t think of anything I’d change with the hospitality, except, maybe Mom could churn up some homemade ice cream next time.  Haha!  

And while we were fishing, Brianna, Nana and Grandpa didn’t have much for downtime.  

They spent the weekend sharing milkshakes, mini-golfing, playing at Minor Mike’s arcade, Dog Patch USA, and cooking for us fishermen.  And lots of Cooper time!

They even made me this sweet apron with all my favorite things!

The 2020 Big Bass Bash is April 18 & 19, 2020.  I’ve already got it on my calendar!  No way I’d miss out on another trip to see Nana and Grandpa with my best fishing partners!

4/29/19

The drive home seemed WAY quicker.  Aaron and I continued to joke about Greg, who had contacted me several times throughout the weekend about the boat.  He was hot for my boat, and needed it today.  I told Greg I wouldn’t be home until the afternoon but he was welcome to come by and see it this evening.  He told me, “I am not coming by to see it, I am coming by to buy it.”  Okay Greg!  Greg claimed he had “17K, cold, hard, cash.”  I’ll believe it when I see it.

During the bumpy seas on Saturday, I lost one of my Humminbird Gimbal mounting screws.  It’s currently somewhere 100’ underwater in the Ozarks. Greg probably wouldn’t be happy about this!  We stopped quick at Bass Pro in Des Moines so I could pick up a new one.  Unfortunately, they were out of stock of the $10 screw, but the guy working behind the fish finder counter offered me a free extra one he had!  Are you serious?  Bass Pro just gets better and better every time we stop in.  Around 4PM, we pulled up to the house and Aaron went on his way.  Brianna and I had a date at the car wash to clean up the filthy boat.

Later that evening, Greg did indeed show up to the house.  He gave the boat about a 30 minute lookover before stating he wanted to buy it.  The whole thing was surreal.  Was I really selling my boat?  I hadn’t even stopped to consider that if I went through with this, it would be the first time in seven years I wouldn’t be boat owner on fishing opener.    

Sure, that boat has been a thorn in my side and caused me more drama on the water than I care to mention.  But the happiness that little Ranger has brought to my life has been priceless.  I was blessed to find that perfect little boat 7 years ago in Indiana.  At the time, I paid $16,000 for a three year old boat with 11 hours on the motor (the MSRP was $26,345).

We drew up some quick paperwork and Greg made good on his claim by throwing down $17,000 in cold, hard, cash, onto to deck of the boat.   Yep, my little investment in floating happiness, netted me $1,000 more than what I paid for the boat in 2013.  There is no doubt, the Ranger brand holds it’s value!  In less than an hour, the transaction was completed.   I handed Greg the keys to the boat and asked him to send me pictures every now and then.  We hooked up the Ranger to Greg’s truck and he cautiously pulled out of the driveway, as I had done so many times in the past.  I watched from the driveway as he towed my baby away.  It was a very sad moment.  No more Ranger.

But it also meant, no more DRAMA!  And even better, it was time to start shopping for a new boat!  Stay tuned.

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 01245: Commander Bly

"Hold still, vod," Kix reminded gently. "The scanner can't get an accurate reading if you keep moving."

"Yes, sir," Commander Bly agreed, obediently fighting to keep still.

Kix refrained from reminding the commander that he in fact outranked Kix - and by quite a large margin. Bly was struggling enough as it was. He had been standing far too close to an explosive blast, and the burns covering the left side of his face and body were clear. The fire had melted large sections of his plastoid armor, adding to the damage.

Continuing to wear what remained of the armor had to be uncomfortable, but Kix had to complete a full scan before he could allow the commander to remove the outer layer. There was a possibility that some of Bly's skin had melted to the inside of the plastoid and he simply didn't feel it due to shock.

Finally, the scanner beeped to tell Kix that it had completed a full scan with no motion interference. Bly was lucky; there was no connection between his skin and the rest of his armor. Kix quickly informed the commander of this and they both worked to remove the plastoid from his singed body glove.

When Bly was free, his hand moved as though he planned on exploring the damage done to the left half of his face, but Kix stopped him with an extended hand and sharp shake of his head. "You won't want to do that, commander. Burns hurt worse than anything. You're in shock right now, but it won't last forever. The sooner you start feeling it, the more painful the treatment will be."

"I understand, Kix," Bly agreed softly, dropping his hand immediately.

"Let me do one final scan, then I'll start mixing a bacta spray," Kix told him, readying the scanner once more. "If we're lucky, we can get your treatment well underway by the time the pain really kicks in."

"Don't you mean 'Kix in'?" Bly asked, quirking a brow. Unfortunately, it was his left eyebrow and he hissed slightly at the new and painful sensation.

"I hope that was worth it, Commander," Kix told him dryly.

"It wasn't my best joke, but hey, laugh or cry, right?" Bly shrugged - carefully using his right shoulder this time. He fell silent again, watching Kix configure the scanner. "Can I ask why you need to do another scan?"

Kix eyed Bly for a moment, but saw no signs of impatience or mockery on the commander's face. "Scanners can work through plastoid, but the signal gets significantly weaker. That's fine if you're checking for surface-level injuries, but if you want to look deeper, you need to get under the armor. Now that we've removed the plastoid from this equation, this scan will show the full extent of the burns."

He began scanning as he finished his explanation, but the medbay door whipped open before the short process had ended. "Commander, how are you?"

Kix was tempted to turn so he could see the new arrival to the medbay with his own eyes, but the accented voice made Bly's spine straighten and his blood pressure ratchet up a few levels, so the medic knew who it was. General Secura had that effect on many a trooper.

Still, Kix always took care of his vode, so Kix silenced the scanner's alarm before it could play an audible arrhythmia warning. It was no business of the general's if her arrival had made Bly's heart literally skip a beat.

"I'm fine, General," Bly answered his commanding officer, voice steady.

It was an impressive show. Bly's feelings for his beautiful general were the worst-kept secret in the GAR… which was saying something. Still, his eyes were clear and his face serene, even as Kix watched his heart rate increase. As if he heard Kix's silent admiration, Bly's gaze slid to the scanner still held in Kix's hand and the medic hurriedly put it away. He had the information he needed, anyway.

Kix cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the general and the commander. "The burns don't appear to be deep. Commander Bly was lucky that he had his face turned away from the blast." He turned to address Bly directly. "The plastoid of your armor protected your body from the worst of the burns, but there will be some scarring on your neck and left hand."

Bly shrugged at that, but General Secura looked unhappy. "Is there nothing you can do to heal him completely? I could arrange transport to a medstation. Maybe some time spent in a bacta tank…"

Fighting not to furrow his eyebrows, Kix shook his head. "Not necessary, General. I'll make a bacta spray to help the healing process, apply some burn gel to pull the heat away, and administer some pain meds for the discomfort. Commander Bly will be all healed up in a few weeks."

As he went to assemble the components for a bacta spray, Kix smirked to himself. A kriffing bacta tank? Troopers went in bacta tanks for missing limbs, shattered skulls, comas… Putting the commander in one for a few mild burns would be insane. Kix’s motions slowed as he heard the quiet conversation taking place behind him.

"I have no skill for Force-healing," General Secura admitted, sounding unreasonably guilty about that fact.

"What are a few more scars?" Bly answered flippantly but his voice grew more serious as he added. "General, I don't care what I look like. What matters is that I can fight for the Republic. The best way to do that is to keep you safe."

Secura seemed to let out a sigh. "You were hurt protecting me- Protecting the Republic's interests, that is. I do not like knowing that you'll be scarred as a thanks for your efforts."

"I would gladly carry a few more marks if it means that you're alive, General," Bly said, tone genuine. Kix winced, thinking that he was cutting it a bit close to admitting having non-regulation feelings for a commanding officer. Bly seemed to feel the same, however, since he added, "Besides, scars will just make my tattoos stand out even more."

"Ah, how could I forget the importance of your tattoos?" the general teased. "No one should go without seeing them."

"Well, we'll try to minimize the scarring anyway," Kix told them both as he came back with the freshly-mixed bacta spray. He talked Bly through the process as he gently cleaned the burns, applied the bacta spray, and misted the burn gel from a special aerosol dispenser. He passed Bly some of the medbay’s strongest pain meds. Kix could tell that the pain was finally beginning to reach the commander and wanted to stop it as soon as possible now that the treatment was working.

"Now, I don't want you reaching around yourself to apply the spray," Kix said, finishing his explanation. "You wouldn't be able to get the right angle and distance, and it would stretch the burned skin more than we want. Take the spray and the dispenser with you and I'll transmit the instructions to the 327th's medic. Limit is still your main medic, right?"

"Yes, he is, but I would like a copy of those instructions as well, Kix," General Secura told him and turned to speak directly to Bly. Taking the hint, Kix moved a few steps away to give them a semblance of privacy - even if he could still see both medbay occupants and hear their conversation clearly. "If Limit is ever busy, comm me and I'll apply the treatments myself."

Bly shifted in the chair. "General, you've got more important things-"

"Hush, Bly," the general told him, lifting a hand to brush her fingertips over the tattoo on Bly's uninjured cheek. "There is nothing more important than supporting my men, especially the commander who kept me from being blown up today."

Obviously fighting a blush, Bly gave a single sharp nod.

Kix cleared his throat. "Feel free to make your way back to the Liberty when you feel able, Bly. General."

The two left the medbay, walking closer together than Kix thought was wise, considering the commander's injuries. When the room was silent once more, Kix pulled out a new patient treatment form and stared at it for a long moment.

Everyone in the GAR knew that Commander Bly had a weakness for his Twi'lek general. It was far from uncommon; the level of attention that Aayla Secura attracted from her appearance, strength, and grace made most of the 327th uncomfortable and ready to fight on a regular basis. However, none of the intel Kix had heard - and he had heard a lot, considering how chatty most brothers were - had suggested that the general felt similarly about her commander. Jedi weren't supposed to be attached, after all.

And yet…

Kix's mind played back the sight of General Secura brushing a delicate hand over Bly's cheek, putting the moment in an infinite loop. Even if she didn't harbor un-Jedi-like feelings for Commander Bly, there was certainly enough room for doubt that Kix could sympathize about how Bly may have gotten confused.

But General Secura had wanted to put Bly in a bacta tank. For mild, superficial burns, no less. And the warmth in her voice when she had volunteered to personally help with Bly's treatment…

Kix shook his head, feeling more confused than he had been since his first day of flash training. However, if there was one constant in his life, it was that paperwork needed to be filed. Kix turned his attention back to the medical form in front of him, checking the 'General Present' box and moving on to his other duties.

[rejectedusername-trashfics]

Shot by the Gods- The One in the Hole

Summary: A series of One Shots, Ficlets, or Drabbles from my Gods of LS AU.  What's a god to a non-believer who don't believe in anything? Not sure. But a non-believer to a god, is a nuisance. 

Chapter: 10/?

Word Count: 2,423

Note: Takes place after Causing Chaos and after Cheating

WARNING: TORTURE albeit very poorly written since it's been a while since I've done anything like it.

Previous / AO3

It had originally been a good week for Ryan. He had gotten the man of his dreams, as well as one of his best reapers. Life, or well existence, was going pretty well for him. But of course, he still had a non-godly job to do. He was part of a crew, which coincidently happened to be full of demigods, and he had a terrifying mercenary persona to uphold. And it was about time he held up that persona again.

A man named Edgar had been trying to run all of the different types of “Fakes,” down. His effort was successful in disbanding the Fake Creatures. They had been giving Fake Attack trouble, and ran Kinda Fake into San Fierro. When he started to mess with Fakehaus, The Fake AH Crew stepped in saying that they were the only ones allowed to have a messy rivalry of any sorts with them.

The Fake AH Crew had set up a Gala hopping Edgar would get cocky and show up and make a scene. And of course, they were right. Meg was brought in to help Lindsay pull Edgar away from the crowd. Edgar was able to recognize Lindsay and a big scene was made. He shot Lindsay, causing a panic throughout the Gala, but Meg was able to keep Lindsay’s soul working and connected, saying it wasn’t her time yet.

Jeremy and Michael can in to corner Edgar. He tried to escape, but Jeremy used his past as a fighter to make him back down. Michael as soon as Edgar was in a corner, Michael knocked him out with a bat, saying that that was for shooting his wife. He went in to hit him again, but Jeremy stopped, saying it would have to be Ryan’s kill.

The tied a knocked-out Edgar up and shot him up with tranquilizers. They carried him into a car and drove him to an interrogation cell while Jack stayed behind to clean up the mess of the Gala. They unloaded a still unconscious Edgar tied him to and sat him up in a chair in an interrogation room. Geoff and Ryan stood outside the room and waited.

Michael and Jeremy finished up and exited the room. “He’s all yours,” Jeremy announced as he waved and dragged Michael away.

Geoff turned to Ryan. “You know why I called you away from your little boy and you’re doing this today?” he asked.

“It’s okay, Gavin was tired and went to bed. And I know I have to do torture someone again so I don’t go soft,” Ryan answered.

“I mean, I’m really happy you and Gavin are finally dating. Honestly not sure how I feel about you dating the reaper who has been screwing you over, as well,”

“She’s a friend who I don’t mind sharing Gavin with,” Ryan interrupted to explain.

Geoff rolled his eyes in response. “I don’t know how you can be open to a relationship involving her after what she did to you,”

“It was all a big misunderstanding that I brought on myself,” he interrupted to explain, again.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” Geoff huffed. “The point is that this guy has been screwing with our allies.”

“And as annoying as they can be, it’s still better to have allies.”

“So, we need to take him down.”

“Alright, but that doesn’t explain why you didn’t just kill him on the spot, tonight at the Gala you held. Or do you just want me to practice my torturing again?”

“We think he’s using the likeness of something that’s yours.”

Ryan shrugged. “This guy could just be named Edgar and have a cow fetish. I mean, my little calf doesn’t do anything unless he’s told.”

“Whatever, I just want you to try torture again.”

“So be it. But if the likeness thing is true, I can’t guarantee he’ll make it out of my custody, alive.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

Suddenly, Edgar began to wake up. “Hey… HEY!!!! DID YOU COWARDS WANT TO ATTEMPT TO TEACH MY A LESSON OR SOMETHING?!?!” he screamed.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Ryan told Geoff.

“YOU’RE AN AWFUL CREW IN MATURITY AND I WILL MAKE IT OUT OF HERE ALIVE!!!!!” Edgar continued to scream.

“Did you put torture tools in there for me?” he asked Geoff next.

“Yep, you’re all set,” Geoff confirmed.

“GGGGGAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!”” Edgar kept screaming.

Ryan nodded and made his Vagabond mask appear on his head. He saluted Geoff as he entered the torture room. Edgar kept screaming and Ryan walked in. “Gods, you’re loud. If you really think the Fake AH Crew in immature, you should listen to yourself,” he commented, shutting the man up.

“Oh, they sent in the Vagabond,” Edgar attempted to taunt. “’What, is that supposed to do, scare me?”

“If I do, I do. If I don’t, well, it doesn’t change the situation you’re in.”

“My employees WILL get me out of here!”

“But, they aren’t here at the moment. While we wait for them, why don’t you answer a few questions for me,”’ Ryan suggested.

“What, you think I’m going to tell you why I’ve been messing with every crew with ‘Fake’ in their name?”

“Yes, I suppose that is a good place to start.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you. You don’t scare me. And are you too stupid to know that you’re supposed to start with a smaller question first? God, how many people have you even tortured before?”

Ryan sighed. “More than you can count.” Then he walked over to the table with tools and grabbed a pair of pliers. “Did you know I just got into a new relationship?” he started.

“Are you too dumb to know you shouldn’t be telling me that?”

“I’ve been thinking about exploring kinks with my girl and boyfriend to keep things interesting in the bedroom,” he continued as he walked over to Edgar.

“And you told me you’re with a boy? Wait till I tell the whole world, the Vagabond is GAY!”

“Did you miss the part where I said girl as well? No matter,” he said as he sat down and began to untie Edgar’s shoes. “Some fetishes have never interested me before. But, I don’t know I don’t like something unless I try it,” he finished as he removed the socks and shoes off of Edgar’s feet, and grabbed his left foot.

“A foot fetish!? That’s stupid and gross!” Edgar chastised. Ryan rolled his eyes and plucked out his pinky toe. “I’ve cut my pinky toenails off when I cut my toenails. This is nothing.”

Ryan ignored him and moved on to plucking out his bigger toes. “Ow. Owww,” he whined as his toes came out. Finally, Ryan got to his big toes and began pulling it out. “Owww! OOOWWWWWW!!!” he wailed. Ryan finished yanking out the toe. “Fuck. That actually hurts more than I thought,” he heaved.

“Watch your language!” Ryan commanded. Then he dropped Edgar’s bleeding left foot and grabbed his right. “I’m going to ask you again. What is your problem with all of the ‘Fakes’?”

“Fuck… You…,” he breathed heavily. Ryan shrugged and grabbed his right foot. He began to pluck out the toes on that foot. When he got to the right big toe, he started pulling it out slowly. “OWWWW! FUCK, ALRIGHT!”

Ryan stopped pulling and looked up at Edgar. “Yes?”

“Fakes are all fake criminals. Just for show. They need to stop messing around and turning the criminal community into a big joke,” he explained.

“I see. While we try to have fun with the crimes we commit, we are all still, without a doubt, criminals.”

“Whatever. I told you what you wanted. Are you going to let me go now?” Edgar asked.

Ryan got up and went over to set the pliers back on the tool table. “Not quite yet. I wanted to test out a new, moving up the body, torture technique, and I have a few personal questions to ask,” he clarified as he grabbed a scooping knife off the table. “I was wondering if you’ve ever heard of Ed-Gar?” he finally asked as he sat back down on the floor in front of Edgar.

“Of course, I’ve heard the legend, why the hell are you asking me about that?”

“How much do you know about him?”

“Why does that legend, OW!” he was interrupted but Ryan digging the scoop into the side of his knee. He continued to wedge the scoop under the kneecap. “OWWW! He was the three-headed cow of the god of death, Vaga, from ancient legend! Ed-Gar would torture the masses and eat people until a hero or something came to stop him, I don’t know!!!!”

Ryan popped the scoop out the other side and scooped the kneecap out. “That’s preposterous. Ed-Gar only do… did what Ah… Vaga told him too. And Vaga normally wasn’t one to start conflict.”

“Your name is Vagabond, you would be the one to study the death god.”

“I know Vaga better than anyone alive.” The he moved the scoop onto the other knee. “Are you using Ed-Gar’s likeness?” he asked as he began to dig the scoop into the other knee.

“What do you think?!” Edgar yelped in pain.

“I’m asking,” Ryan began twisting the scoop in deeper, “for a CONFIRMATION,” he continued.

“YES, YOU FUCKING IDIOT, YES!!!” Edgar confirmed. Ryan popped the other kneecap out of leg. “Why is thing so important to you?” he wheezed.

“You’re clearly uneducated on the sweet calf. I told you, Ed-Gar wouldn’t do anything without Vaga’s orders.”

“Sweet calf? What are you even...”

Ryan ignored him and went back to the tabled and grabbed a regular knife and the pliers again. He walked back over to Edgar and turned his chair so that his back was facing him. He grabbed Edgar’s wrists and saw that his fists were balled up. He stabbed through Edgar’s hands, forcing him to open his hands. “Last question. Why did you choose to disparage Ed-Gar’s name by using it?”

“Why does it even matter?” Edgar asked. Ryan rolled his eyes and began to pluck Edgar’s fingernails out. “God, that hurts way more than the toes!”

“I’m waiting,” Ryan prompted as he pulled out another nail.

“Vaga told people back then that they should fear Ed-Gar!” Edgar argued.

“Vaga told people that because Ed-Gar was their punishment if they did wrong; so, people wouldn’t disparage him or the other gods,” Ryan explained as he plucked out another nail.

“What does any of that matter? It’s not like the gods are real!” Edgar exclaimed.

Ryan finished pulling out another nail, then his eyes widened once What Edgar had said clicked. He immediately dropped the pliers in response. “What?”

“The ancient gods aren’t real!”

Ryan stood up in anger and turned Edgar’s chair around to face him. “The gods are VERY real.”

“God, you really are stupid. They’re just something the ancient people made up. It’s all fake. Just like your credential as a criminal crew is fake.”

“You want proof the gods, especially VAGA, are real?”

“What’s a god to a non-believer who don’t believe in anything?” Edgar sing-songed to taunt again.

Ryan groaned and grabbed Edgar by the neck. He turned the both of them into smoke and they dissipated. Ryan brought him to the underworld. Ryan reformed wearing his mask and godly robes. next to Ed-Gar, who mooed happily; he was very happy to see his owner again. Edgar reformed. He was tiny enough to fit in Ryan’s hand. “A non-believer is nuisance to a god,” Ryan announced, in his booming god voice.

“What kind of drugs was I given?” Edgar asked, confused.

“There were no hallucinatory drugs in those tranquilizers. You were to be sober for your torture.”

“Then what is this if I’m not high?”

“Your proof that Vaga is real, and the rest of the gods by extension!”

Edgar rolled his eyes, “Yeah right. Like hell, I’ll believe the Vagabond actually is Vaga, the god of death.”

“Fool.” Then Ryan turned to face Ed-Gar. “Hey buddy, it’s good to see you.”

“Mmmmmooooo!” Ed-Gar replied, happily.

Ryan pet his far-right head. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long. You want a treat to make up for it a little?”

All three of Ed-Gar’s head nodded. “MMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOO!” Ed-Gar excitedly mooed. Ryan put Edgar up to the cow’s center head. Ed-Gar took it, happily and began to munch on his treat. Edgar screamed as Ed-Gar crunched him in his mouth. Ed-Gar swallowed his snack and all three heads smiled.

“I gotta go back to the human world.” Ryan told the cow. All three heads pouted. “I’m sorry, I have people I work with there, I have to go back. But listen, next time I come and visit I’ll bring my girl and boyfriend. My girlfriend is a reaper, so she’s used to the underworld. And my boyfriend is the newest Midas reincarnation. I know it’s not the same, but he’ll be under my protection.”

“Moooo,” Ed-Gar mooed.

Ryan gave him a pat on each of his heads. “See ya,” he gave the cow a quick side hug and poofed away. He reappeared in the torture room. He immediately walked to the door and exited.

Geoff gave Ryan an up and down look. “What was that?”

Ryan clapped his hands together. “Turns out you were right?”

“Alright, but that doesn’t explain where you took him.”

“Also turns out he doesn’t believe in the gods.”

“Ooh…”

“So, I decided to pay my pet a visit and, give him a snack.”

“Oh, well at least no need for body disposal,” Geoff joked to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, but I was thinking. Gavin’s probably sad that he can’t get a cat because Meg and I are both basically allergic, do you think Gavin would mind meeting my cow?” Ryan asked.

“You know what, Gavin likes animals. And if your three-headed cow is the best thing you got. I think he’ll like it anyway.”

“Excellent! I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow. I’m gonna head out so I can go cuddle. Good night,” Ryan waved as he left the torture area to go join Gavin and Meg in bed, seeing as Meg would be off from her human job by then.

Geoff yawned and went to lean again the wall of the room. He closed his eyes for a second, then shot them right back open when he realized something. “Did I just give the God of Death relationship advice?” he asked himself.

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

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Case 00627: Scorch

Kix glanced up at the familiar sound of the medbay doors opening, frowning as he saw two commando troopers walking in. Their distinctively styled helmets gave an air of uniformity, but the designs painted on them spoke of very different personalities.

The commando wearing the helmet marked with red, jagged lines - almost suggesting a handprint - was half-supporting, half-dragging another commando with a simple, gray-green helmet painted with white and yellow details. Kix studied both new arrivals, but couldn't find any visible injuries on either.

"What happened here?" Kix asked, already starting toward the men.

"Scorch here blew himself up," the red-painted commando answered, with a motion of his helmet that clearly said he was rolling his eyes. "Di'kut."

"I did not!" the injured Scorch said defensively, turning to address Kix. "I had a minor disagreement with a wall."

"Yeah?" the red-painted commando asked, "What were the arguments?"

"Whether or not the blast from a thermal detonator plus my own fabulous aim would make the wall go 'boom'," Scorch replied, clearly grinning under his helmet.

"Congratulations on winning your argument, sir," Kix said dryly, already promising himself to blow up the Resolute and everyone inside before he would let Scorch and Hardcase meet. "Let's shed the armor and see how much damage that wall's rebuttal caused."

The two commandos completed their half-walk, half-drag journey to the first bunk in the medbay and Scorch leaned up against the mattress, stifling a pained groan. The red-painted one, obviously fed up with his brother's antics, unceremoniously lifted and deposited Scorch on the bed.

"Come on, Sev!" the commando complained loudly. "You know I'm injured and delicate."

"It doesn't count as an injury if you've always been stupid," Sev told him. "I'm going to report back to Boss."

"You're going to leave me here, alone and hurt?" Scorch asked dramatically. His only reply was the medbay door closing behind Sev. He shook his head and told the door, "Well, that was rude."

The door seemed unsympathetic.

Kix cleared his throat, wondering if he should crank the scanner high enough to scan for brain injuries, when Scorch turned back to him. He pulled off his gray and white commando helmet, grinned, and stuck out a hand. "Scorch."

"I gathered," Kix replied. "I'm Kix."

"Good, I'm in the right place," Scorch said, heaving an exaggerated sigh of relief as he began stripping off the rest of his armor. "But what is the best medic in the GAR doing attached to the 501st?"

"The best medic," Kix repeated skeptically, scanning the now de-armored commando.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard the stories," Scorch told him, eyes wide and sincere, though they sparkled with an edge of barely there mischief. "Granted, mostly from the pilot on the way here, but still."

"Troopers like to talk. And as for why the 501st…" Kix let some of his constant fond exasperation come through, "no one gets in more trouble or hurts themselves in stranger ways than them."

"And you like to treat them," Scorch summed up, the look on his face more intense than the situation called for. Kix was on-edge before the commando spoke again. "Makes you feel powerful, doesn't it? Makes you feel like you're better than them, more than just a regular trooper."

"Makes me feel like I've got one more living brother," Kix corrected sharply.

Scorch raised his hands in a gesture speaking of an innocence that his sparkling eyes belied. "Hey, I had to make sure you weren't one of those power-trip troopers."

Kix shook his head and silently went to gather the supplies he would need to treat his patient, unwilling to continue an insulting conversation. However, since the commando had started it… He turned to meet Scorch's eyes. "If we're asking uncomfortable questions, let me ask one."

Scorch made a beckoning gesture with his less-injured hand, as if he were inviting Kix to continue.

"Why do you sound different from every other trooper, but look exactly like the rest of us?" It was something he had been wondering since Scorch took off his helmet, but he had been too polite to ask. At least, until the commando had accused him of treating men for the ego boost. As if it did wonders for his ego to be vomited on, covered in blood, to need to help his brothers to the 'fresher, to hold their hands as they took their last breath-

"I'm an excellent mimic," Scorch answered, using Kix's own inflection. Kix stared at him steadily until he continued in his normal offbeat voice. "Sometimes, a situation calls for a voice to be different so we don't sound like normal clone troopers, no matter how much we look like them. Delta Squad is full of differences. Boss has a thicker accent than most native Mandalorians, Fixer has worked to speak the most pure Basic, and Sev's vocal cords are damaged. Me, I just talk this way because I want to."

"Yeah, you can never meet Hardcase," Kix muttered to himself, fighting a shudder at the ridiculous accent the 501st trooper would be sure to put on as a result.

"What was that?" Scorch asked.

"I said, oh excellent mimic, that you've bruised your ribs, pulled a hamstring, and most of the left side of your body will be covered in bruises for the next few weeks, maybe less if you can take a couple of days to rest up." Kix frowned down at the datapad showing the scanner's results. "You managed not to break anything, which is - frankly - a miracle."

"Commando armor," Scorch told him with a sharp rap on his chestplate, wincing as the movement strained his injuries.

"Bruised. Ribs." Kix repeated, biting the end off each word so that the commando would be sure to understand him. "I'll issue you some pain meds, but the most you can do to improve your recovery time is to sleep as much as possible and stay hydrated. Most importantly-"

Kix cut himself short as the medbay door opened and Scorch instinctively turned to see the new arrivals, hissing in pain at the twisting motion. "-don't twist or move your body in unusual ways," Kix finished, giving a perfunctory salute to the commando sergeant who stepped up to the bed.

"How is the patient?" the sergeant asked. Despite Scorch's overly casual manner, Kix had to admit that the commando had given an accurate description of his squadmates and their voices. This one with the thick Mando'a accent must be Boss.

With a shrug to answer the sergeant's question, Kix told him, "Not much I can do, actually."

"Told you those thermal dets would kill you some day," the rough-voiced Sev said to Scorch with no small amount of satisfaction.

"What? No," Kix told him, nettled by the idea that a patient of his could die from such minor injuries. "Scorch is covered in bruises and he pulled a few muscles. Nothing life-threatening, but they aren't injuries I can do much for. I'm issuing pain meds, but he could stand a few days of bed rest, sir."

Boss nodded while Scorch looked horrified. "I can't stay on bed rest!"

The last commando, the non-accented Fixer, sounded irritated by his squadmate. "Six-Two, you can't just choose which orders to follow. If Three-Eight says you're on bed rest, that's where you'll be unless you want a court-martial."

Scorch looked pleadingly at Kix. "I could die from my injuries, right, Kix? Even Fixer wouldn't try to boss around a dying brother."

"Er... " Kix trailed off, glancing around at the group of commandos. "Bruises have a notoriously low fatality rate, Scorch."

"I think his vocal cords may have been damaged," Sev observed. "Could you order a total lack of speaking for the foreseeable future? For medical reasons?"

"We'd make it worth your while," Fixer wheedled.

"Is it too late to say I don't want any visitors?" Scorch asked, though even that sounded like a joke.

"We probably should leave," Boss agreed, cutting through Sev and Fixer's gloating with a simple reminder of, "Lots of reports to write."

"Ugh. Really, sir? For a self-inflicted injury?"

"I was having a good day, Boss."

Before he left, Boss patted Scorch gently on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay, Scorch. Rest up or we'll leave you behind on our next mission."

"Kix?" Kix glanced over at the commando sergeant, one brow lifting in silent question. "Make sure he rests. Sedate him or strap him down if you need to."

With one last threatening look in Scorch's direction, Boss left the medbay. Kix silently held out the pain meds for Scorch, passing him a cup of water at the proper time.

"You're good to sleep now," Kix told the commando. "If the pain gets bad again, let me know and I'll increase your dosage."

Scorch nodded and had just settled back against the pillow when the medbay door opened and Kix's heart nearly stopped. He walked briskly to the front of the medbay, making small pushing motions at the new arrival. "Hardcase, get out of here. You're fine."

"You don't even know what's wrong yet," Hardcase pouted.

"Hardcase?" Scorch asked, sitting up with a manic interest gleaming in his eyes.

"Yeah?" Hardcase asked, leaning to peer around Kix's shoulder. "Whoa, a commando! I heard you guys get to deal with more explosives than anyone!"

"You ever juggled thermal detonators?" Scorch asked, giving Kix an innocent shrug when the medic glared.

"No!" Hardcase said, pushing past Kix to perch by Scorch's bedside, wearing a look of utter fascination.

In only moments, the two were swapping stories, each trying to outdo the other while both seemed impressed by the other's exploits. Kix groaned. Force willing, he wouldn't have much to do with Scorch after this, but he already expected a wild number of injuries in Hardcase's near future.

---

A/N - First off, I want to apologize to... well, just everyone. For those who are not familiar with Republic Commando, you're probably a bit confused about who these guys are and why they're here. I read a fic featuring the characters in a minor role and proceeded to inhale everything I could find with them in it. For those who are familiar with Republic Commando, I would like to apologize for any errors in characterization, background, etc. Sidebar: if you know of a good fic featuring Delta Squad, please share the name of it with me!

Please reblog this work! It helps me grow my readership!