#who has killed and hurt and maimed without a second thought

[thistlerock]

The Bad Kids Are Funny because they're all fairly violent and get really aggro really quickly (hey that's what you get for making a highly competent adventuring party a bunch of teenagers who don't go to therapy) but then Riz is somehow just two steps above everyone else and they barely acknowledge it. Fury of the Ball is the most wonderful thing.

The "face" of their party around school would probably be like Fig or Fabian, maybe Gorgug. Wow they're so strong aha. Hey who do you think is the most brutal, probably the half-orc barbarian who seems to mostly repress his rage until it's time to throw down right? Right?? No it's the little guy in the corner. Yeah, the one who just hid in the shadows and now you can't see him anymore. Yeah, he shot a pixie's fingers off one by one to get information, yeah, he ate a live dragon, yeah, he offered to tear someone's eye out for his best friend, yeah, he said the words "make sure his head is cut off so he can't be revivified" about another student. Yeah, he's a fucking goblin and so unapologetic about it at this point.

I always imagine his "fury" (which is a goblin trait which implies Sklonda has it too btw, never forget) being like oughhh pupils blown so wide, hair standing up, hissing claws out, kill maim stab. Just for a few seconds. You can elect to use it after hitting, I imagine him sinking his sword into a big meaty enemy and going "hm wow this guy's pretty tough. I need him dead though. Needs to die." and he twists the blade puts his whole weight in it and just drags it down no matter what's in the way. It HAS to be so gross and brutal every time and his friends are just like oh there he goes, the Ball cleaning up again.

Especially fun with the Kipperlilly thing. Oh two rogues fighting without sneak attack, that's gotta be a slow careful battle where they chip away at each other. Oh she does like seven damage rushing past him, oh he's gonna do the same wait never mind he uses his fury he stabbed her SO badly. No rogue finesse no show about it just the intent to kill. Kid with traumatic past does in fact end up fucked and it isn't actually fun or quirky or interesting, who would have thought. Shoutout to hold person over the lava that goes disgustingly hard and is also so gruesome, imagine being paralysed and watching yourself fall into a pit that will burn you alive.

The thing with classic rogues is that you're "dead before you know you're being attacked" and it's "quick and easy and possibly painless" but if Riz kills you it's gonna hurt. You're gonna know and it's gonna hurt but hey high chance you don't get to do anything about it still. Phenomenal character.

[hadesisqueer]

One thing I really like about RWBY as a show is that the heroes do not have a strict no kill rule. Like, obviously, they very much prefer not hurting or killing anyone at all, but if it comes to that, they do not hesitate.

-Tyrian is trying to capture Ruby and kill her uncle and her friends? The moment he gets slightly distracted, Ruby takes the chance and cuts his tail off without a second thought.

-Cinder is affected by Ruby's silver eyes in the Battle of Haven? Jaune doesn't hesitate and the moment she lets her guard down he tries to stab her in the face; had he gone for a slash instead, Cinder would be dead.

-Tock has blinded Maria and is about to kill her? There you go, Maria will decapitate her. Bye, Tock.

-Adam keeps trying to kill Blake and Yang? Oh, he gets stabbed by both of them. No more Adam.

-Ironwood tries to shoot Winter again with that weird gun even though she's a Maiden now? Winter just sends the blast back at him and leaves. Doesn't even check if he's still alive.

-Neo just pushed Yang to the void and they think she's gone? Blake WILL try to cut Neo's head off. And while they're fighting Ruby doesn't hesitate to push Neo off the bridges even if she thought that would kill her.

Which are all like, normal. Those other people are actively trying to kill them or their loved ones as well. Which is why I used to be really confused when I kept seeing some people complaining mostly about the Ruby with Tyrian and the Blake and Yang vs Adam things. Saying they are supposed to be the good guys and they should set an example to viewers instead of maiming or killing their foes.

What example do you want them to set? That letting others kill you and your loved ones is okay? Because that's what was gonna happen; Tyrian had just poisoned Qrow, actually he's lucky Ruby only went for the tail. Adam was not going to stop and he going to take Blake's sword to continue to try murdering her and Yang, who had no Auras either and were as vulnerable as he was. They either did it first or they could die, and they did. It's self-defense. Tyrian and Adam were trying to kill them and they were the ones who started the fights. You fuck around, you're gonna find out.

[fafodill]

Snape is a textbook example of ‘good but not nice’.

He’s more good than virtually all the characters the fandom recognise as good, because he sacrifices everything in order to protect those who do not love him and who would not do the same for him.

After his defection, he’s really not grey at all. Even *before* his defection, the worst crimes we actually see on page are using a slur (as someone who has a muggle parent and is therefore part of the marginalised community) while being assaulted against a girl who goes on to marry the abuser and passing on a scrap of a vague prophecy from Trelawney, who nobody takes seriously. But because he’s so morally unlucky, these actions have dire consequences, while somebody like Lupin who actually does a fair bit worse in full knowledge of the potential consequences of his actions gets away scot free because he’s lucky enough that Sirius turns out not to be a deranged mass murderer.

And what is grey after he defects doesn’t come from being an unfair meanie of a teacher - JKR definitely doesn’t think so, because if she did she wouldn’t have written Harry defeating the ultimate evil using a spell Snape taught him - but from what he might’ve been complicit in as a means to a good end (ie. the implication that on Dumbledore’s orders he gave up Emmeline Vance to Voldemort to cement his position as a trusted source, the fact that he couldn’t work to deradicalise his young Slytherins likes Draco, Crabbe, Pansy etc because he’d risk his cover)

You make really good points anon.

Like I said previously, people want to dislike Snape. Being a spy is horrible work and he must have seen and done terrible things and got really hurt by it. We are missing depictions of him breaking down from the choices he had to make, the people he had to see getting tortured or maimed or killed, especially during the second war. That man was holding on to occlumency for dear life to not just break down and ugly cry at night alone in his bed. And maybe he did.

But since we don't see his remorse written on page (why would we? It would mean that Harry sees it) then it doesn't exist to people. Snape's character needs critical thinking and empathy to be understood and most people just don't bother.

I would like to add that I suspect Severus to have been unable to appear as a 'good guy'. We know Dumbledore scolded him when he didn't want to reveal to people his true motivations.

Of course it was partly because his story with Lily was deeply private to him but I also think he had been ostracized so long during his life that he couldn't bring himself to be anything else at that point. It would have made his skin crawl to have those people - those who always judged him and despised him without ever trying to really know him (not that he made it easy either we can agree on that) - suddenly become nice to him. What a bunch of hypocrites he would have thought. He didn't owe them any explanation, he was doing what was right and that's it.

And the same thing happens with the reader.

[daemon-in-my-head]

Hi. I'm bored. And incredibly sleep-deprived. So let me try and fix the loopholes Larian left behind when doing that whole durge/chosen of the dead 3 plotline.

Let's start with the obvious: Durge is a titan. Even if we ignore that Durge is what would happen if Bhaals pinkie decided to gain conciseness of its own, Orin is brutal. She's strong. And while she's a chosen, she's also a 2nd Gen Bhaalspawn. She hardly has any "taint" worth mentioning that could enhance her abilities, no divine spark, but Durge does. Pretadpole Durge is a menace and a savage. Look at Gortash's decked-out stats while being only level 9 and the thinker rather than the murderer. Durge most definitely was even more fearsome before the parasitic nerf.

With that established, let me claim the following: Durge is immortal. Age, sickness, poison, etc can not kill them. But legendary weapons can, although even in that case, by the grace of being a titan, Bhaal can revive them if he wants to. They are not invincible or smth. They can be hurt and all, but the damage wont be as severe for most instances, so long as there arent any cut off parts or scooped out brains. Durge would need the proper revival to reclaim that, really rebuild the body u know? Well, this also means Kressas little fun project could've never killed Durge. They would've simply felt like they were dying the entire time without getting the sweet release that would've been death. Or maybe at one point they did, but seeing how the Absolutes plot wasn't done yet Bhaal immediately pressed the undo button.

Speaking off, Durge longs for death. They see beauty in obliteration. It just sucks they can't die until Bhaal allows them to. This also explains why they're still alive and why Bhaal killed them in a redemption ending. It takes a deity or a legendary weapon to kill a titan.

Regarding weapons, guess how exactly the alliance didn't falter for as long as Durge was there but shattered the second Orin took over? Neither Ketheric nor Gortash have a legendary weapon. Orin is the only one who does, and it's a ceremonial blade set she most likely stole off of Durge's knocked-out body. Even if they wanted to kill Durge, before the plan concluded, they could hardly do it, and even if they had wounded Durge severely, they would've killed them first before Daddy Bhaal would revive them because their job here wasn't done yet.

It takes another titan or a god to kill one, so the only people capable of doing so are Bhaal and Durge. Sure other gods, too, but they're forbidden from meddling, and everyone still remembers what happened the last time a certain Tyrant pissed off Ao.

As for why Orin attacked them? Siblings. That's the only explanation you need, really. Durge prayer probably pissed her off, and she just did the sibling thing, that is, maim her bloodkin. Probably stuffed a tadpole in there when Durge didn't get up in time so Orin would have an excuse before Bhaal.

This also gives us 2 options why Gortash did nothing despite expecting the Brain to transform.

1; better chances at killing Durge when it would eventually come down to it. A netherbrain infused with Netherese Magic (which is also Durges Origin btw, Bhaal was netherese himself) simply has better odds against a quasi deity than a human does.

2; he was convinced they'd ascend as gods themselves. Durge was already a quasi deity so the last bit wouldn't have been hard. And with a deity on your side surely even a netherbrain is no challenge.

Now back to unholy thoughts-

[xenodile]

Alphinaud and Alisaie are my favorite characters in FFXIV and I ship them both with my WoL but I do not trust anyone else that does the same because they invariably get it Wrong. I've only seen one person on twitter that really Gets It.

Alphinaud is a petty, selfish prick that came to Eorzea with a messiah complex because his grandpa saved Eorzea five years ago and now Alphinaud wants to prove himself by doing the same. He's got a massive ego because he was the youngest and smartest kid in school but didn't actually have any friends because his male peers couldn't stand how much a smug arrogant control freak he was, while his female peers just fawned over a cute boy that was trying so very hard to prove how smart and mature he was, so he has no idea of how to actually view other people as equals, and it only gets worse when he actually succeeds at saving Eorzea with that self-important mindset. The only person he actually has any respect for is his sister, and even to her he's an arrogant control freak.

He has a grudge against Minfilia because she's the actual leader of the Scions and inheritor of Louisoix's staff and legacy, which Alphinaud feels belong to him as Louisoix's grandson, and he makes no effort to hide that contempt by controlling the Warrior of Light, working independently of the other Scions, telling her how to run the organization, and ultimately forming the Crystal Braves to replace the Scions.

His relationship with the Warrior of Light is one that starts as manipulation, he needs a pawn to set his plans in motion, so he waits until the Warrior of Light is isolated and without guidance to step in and introduce himself as the brilliant leader that will save the day and outlines how everything will be fine if they listen to him. In the course of this he develops a fondness for the Warrior of Light, but not really as a person, more a favored tool or a pet. He sees them as his property and is more than happy to rub the WoL's willingness to listen to him in Minfilia's face.

This all changes at the Bloody Banquet, when the Crystal Braves are seized by Lolorito, Raubhan is maimed, Nanamo is "assassinated", those loyal to Alphinaud are killed, and the Scions are framed for it all. Having his perfectly laid plan that he shamelessly copied from his grandfather fall apart overnight and having a tremendous amount of blood dumped on his hands is a severe wake up call. It forces him to acknowledge that he was playing with people's lives as though they were disposable, including those that trusted and wholeheartedly believed in him. He also meets Estinien, who doesn't respect his noble heritage, who doesn't immediately listen to every little thing he says, but is nonetheless willing to help him try and fix things. It changes how Alphinaud views other people and makes him start actually respecting others, as well as makes him second guess his own brilliance because his plan was not as perfect as he thought, and a lot of people got hurt because of it.

Alphinaud has the classic arc of pride going before the fall, and his recovery from that self-righteous worldview that lead to it happening, and his relationship with the Warrior of Light becoming one of mutual respect after initially seeing them as a tool. And this extends to all people, as he sees the cost of war, of how the actions of those that believe themselves righteous, wise, or justified costs the lives of innocent people, Alphinaud becomes more of a humanitarian, valuing each and every person sometimes more than he values himself. He's characterized by the regret he feels for his selfishness and spends the entire rest of the story trying to atone for it.

Alisaie, by contrast, is a stubborn, asocial bitch with a chip on her shoulder who came to Eorzea to see what's so special about it that the one person she truly respected and admired went and killed himself for it, only to be disappointed. Growing up with Alphinaud means Alisaie has a very deep set inferiority complex. No matter what she does she'll always be comparing herself to her perfect, top of the class, most popular* boy in school twin brother. She similarly had no friends but it was because she was so busy pushing herself to keep up with Alphinaud that she neglected all social interaction, made worse by the fact she she's a lesbian that kept getting hit on by older girls because they thought she was her brother, only for them to then be disappointed she's actually just Alphinaud's sister. The only person that doesn't treat her as second banana and respects her as an individual is her grandpa, so she's understandably distraught when he leaves home when she's 11 years old and dies a few months later in a foreign country. It would be hard for her not to start feeling like there's no reason to live.

When Alisaie arrives in Eorzea, she's already very misanthropic. She wants someone to blame for Louisoix's death and is holding the greater populace of Eorzea responsible, so when the combined populations of three nations aren't shining beacons of moral purity and enlightenment, she feels pretty justified in hating the world and resenting her grandfather for abandoning her in favor of a bunch of savages. She still wants to believe in him of course, she's still grieving and wants to find some meaning or closure for the death of the one person that made her feel like she was worth anything, so she delves into the Binding Coils.

It's here when we start seeing the cracks in Alisaie's worldview. She's so fixated on Louisoix and his loss, and so deep in her own self-loathing, that she's blind to the good in the world. She doesn't recognize that there are people that really do like her and care for her, because in her self-doubt and isolation, she convinced herself that her grandpa was the only person that even knew she existed. Urianger gets the WoL to go after Alisaie, and Alphinaud pulls strings to make sure her investigation goes smoothly because they both care about her. The servants her parents sent with her nearly die trying to help her because they believe in helping her find closure, but she doesn't even remember their names because in her eyes, everyone around her might as well not exist because she thinks they don't see her as a person.

Alisaie's frustration is rooted in helplessness. She couldn't "catch up" to Alphinaud, no matter how hard she tried in school he was always smarter and more well liked. She couldn't stop Louisoix from going to Eorzea, and now he's dead. She wants to find the truth behind the 7th Umbral Calamity, but she can't get past the Allagan defenses without help.

At every step she feels isolated because she's not good enough, not strong enough, there's always someone or something better that renders her efforts meaningless. But once she starts making progress with help, she starts to turn around. She initially begrudges the Warrior of Light just because they're the nearest person when she's frustrated that she needs help, but it quickly gives way because getting answers and actually accomplishing what she wants, even if it's indirectly, is a euphoric feeling when she's spent so much of her life feeling like she can't do anything at all.

Alisaie is given three foils across the story of Binding Coils: the Warrior of Light, Nael van Darnus, and Bahamut.

The WoL is proof of Alisaie's weakness, the hero she has to rely on to actually achieve anything because she herself is powerless, but by the same token, is proof that Alisaie isn't alone. The fact she has someone willing to help her, who is in turn evidence of other people willing to help her, shows that her doubt and lack of confidence are self-imposed and she's capable of more than she believes. The Warrior of Light inspires her and gives her something she wants to become, the person that CAN make changes and in turn help others, moving her away from the selfish focus on her brother being adored by others,

Nael van Darnus is initially framed as the one responsible for Louisoix's death, leader of the XIVth legion that invaded Eorzea, the one that started the Meteor Project, and Alisaie is set to hate him. But then it's revealed that Nael is actually his unnamed, unknown twin sister, who carried on her brother's legacy after he died to bring forth the Meteor Project and both her Bahamut's puppets the entire time, showing they too were powerless in spite of all they did. This is obviously reflecting how Alisaie herself ended up isolated and alone as she pushed herself to try and match her idealized idea of Alphinaud's competence and talent, and how self-destructive that kind of idolization of a loved one is. (Which in turn also plays into Alphinaud mimicking Louisoix in the main story)

And finally is Bahamut himself, the dreadwyrm, the elder primal. Unilaterally the single strongest entity in the world, if not the game as a whole, who spent the past several millennia trapped in a cage incapable of acting until he broke free in a single moment of rage and grief. This is the final step in changing Alisaie's worldview, as she sees even the most powerful entity in existence can also be helpless, unable to do anything to protect what it loves, letting hatred and resentment brew in its heart until it's blind to everything around it, just like Alisaie herself was in the wake of Louisoix's death.

The expedition forces Alisaie to understand that strength and agency are not the same thing, and power does not guarantee success or prevent failure. She understands that value in reaching out to others when she feels weak or alone, and how she in turn can be there when others need that help.

But that's not the end of the road for her development. While she takes what she learned in Binding Coils to heart, she still develops a bit of a fixation on the Warrior of Light as the hero that allowed her to come to this revelation and gave her the closure she needed, and she starts to think of them as invincible. They become the new goal she aspires to chase, like she used to chase Alphinaud to be recognized and adored like he was, now she wants to stand on equal footing to the Warrior of Light and be recognized by them. However, Stormblood and Shadowbringers both give her pretty harsh wake up calls that the Warrior of Light is in fact, not invincible. She's reminded of Bahamut's helplessness when her hero in turn stumbles and must rely on her and the other Scions in their moments of weakness. Her goal shifts away from wanting the WoL's recognition for her strength, but to be someone they can always look to for support and be capable of providing it, because Alisaie knows she can always look to the WoL for support.

And the reason I type all this out, when I feel the need to explain it all in such exacting detail, is because I see so many depictions of them that just don't get it. Depictions that reduce them to stupid kids with no emotional depth, that write them off as innocent and naive with no capacity for wrong doing. That simplify them to "hot headed fight girl with a crush on the main character" and "kind hearted fancy lad with no common sense" with no understanding or even acknowledgement of their development and the nuance of their stories.

Which is why I just don't trust anyone else with them, except that one person on twitter that remembers that Alphinaud was like one more win away from becoming a RPG villain in his own right.

[the-starry-seas]

I uno-reverse your tag on my corries and ask you to talk about Kit ♡

omg hi <3

First things first, he loves novelty candy. Gummy sharks. Fun Dip. Toblerone bars and their funny little triangles. If it comes outside of the standard chocolate bar shape, he thinks it's the coolest thing. He has a shoebox in his locker that has the wrappers to his favourites. (And in a modern AU, his favourite candy is Kit-Kats. Yes it's because he shares half a name with them.)

His favourite fruit is peach, but he hates the fuzzy skins. So his solution is to peel them and then eat the fruit without the skin. Fox hates this, it genuinely unsettles him, but he grins and bears it. His second favourite is maraschino cherries.

Kit and Fox have done those BeanBoozled boxes several times (box of mystery flavour jelly beans and half are horrible). Fox doesn't care about any of the bad flavours and sometimes prefers them but Kit will spit those things out without hesitation. They both think the other is a little weird for their jelly bean tastes.

He wants to join the scout corps to be a massiff scout trooper like Sergeant Hound and Grizzer. When Hound finds out, he suddenly has a mystery injury that requires him to be in medbay overnight, and he asks Kit if he could pretty please babysit Grizzer so that Grizzer's not alone all night long? Fox tells Kit to get the damn dog out of the bunk and let it sleep on the floor... and then give up when Kit doesn't listen the first four times.

Fox makes him wait until he has more experience before sending him off to his permanent assignment, which is eventually massiff scouts! In an AU where Order 66 doesn't happen/Fox doesn't die/insert other happy ending of your choice here, Kit helps oversee the breeding program for massiffs for the other troopers. He baby-talks each and every pup and helps find good homes for the ones that flunk training.

The entire Guard will maul, maim, and murder on behalf of the marshal commander's shiny. Their shiny now. They will be fighting for joint custody. Kit is aware of this and is absolutely 100% fearless as a result because what can hurt him when he has an entire army behind him? This stresses Fox out immensely.

He likes fantasy media that bears no resemblance to his life. He's in the dark about the worst of the way the Corries are treated, because Fox would protect him from anything, but he still knows a lot. Media is his escape to a world where maybe Fox wouldn't have anything to hide from him.

He can't watch/read anything set on Coruscant because there's inevitably some detail that the producer/author gets wrong and he's just >:| every time. Very strong feelings about it.

His other weakness is funny throw pillows. He only has one pillow, because there's only so much room in his bunk, but he has a stack of pillowcases as tall as his arm. You can keep a calendar by the regular rate that he switches pillowcases.

He cried when he got his face tattoo and thought he was a total wimp for it until he met another trooper with a face tattoo who validated that it was in fact extremely painful. (He also didn't think through the face tattoo. It was an impulse decision and design.) Fox thought that Kit was reapplying a sharpie doodle for three weeks, he's kind of embarrassed about that.

There's a second tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. It's an outline of a fox head, with a second smaller outline inside it. A fox and its kit :)

He's tried to grow plants several times but he's killed every single plant he's ever touched. He's a little bit genuinely upset about that because plants are so pretty and he really wants to have one.

He re-dyes his hair once a standard month so that his roots don't grow out too much. He's shaved the sides into patterns a few times but generally prefers his hair to be as low maintenance as possible so he doesn't really do that any more.

He didn't realise he was faceblind for years after being deployed to Coruscant. All the clones look the same and all the Kaminoans look the same, how was he supposed to figure it out before that?

Not great with heights, but only when he can see how far down it is. Put him on a bridge and he'll be nervous. Put him on a windowless troop transport and he'll be fine.

Fox literally gave him a stylus to use as a chew toy until they figured out what chewelry was. Kit's is, of course, red. He keeps it in his locker when he's on duty because he doesn't want to lose it or have it confiscated somehow.

[sen-sational]

I SAW THIS THE OTHER DAY AND THOUGHT THEY FINALLY OFFED SUN- BUT NOOO IT'S HELP WANTED 2 GAMEPLAY. I FEEL LIED TO. WHO MAKES ART LIKE THIS FOR A THUMBNAIL THAT ISN'T RELATED TO SUN ACTUALLY BEING TORN APART?!

I know this sounds wrong, but I'm a little desperate for Sun to be killed. Don't get me wrong- I love Sun. He's one of my favs.

-And because of this I NEED HIM TO BE MAIMED.

THINK OF THE ANGST POTENTIAL!!!

Sun could be BARELY alive when they get to him-- either unable to speak, or only through pained, distorted syllables-- and might end up being a vegetable for a while depending on the damages. This could cause Solar PTSD or something, which sends him into "Work now, feelings later" mode, and stop caring about his own health and safety-

Moon would just LOSE IT. Whoever hurts Sun is basically dead already. If they somehow manage to get away, or his fam stops him from risking his own life to go murder this guy- Moon would be stuck with his own thoughts and fear and grief while he waits to find out if his brother is going to be able to be saved-

And then while they're searching for this guy, Lunar and Earth are left feeling scared and stuck because they want to help Moon and Solar try and repair Sun, but Solar's refusing to do anything but fix Sun- He can't let this happen to another Sun- He can't let it be his fault again-

And it seems that no matter what they say, Moon's not going to feel better until the assailant is dead, or he has confirmation Sun is going to be okay.

So Lunar & Earth don't know how to help, Solar and Moon aren't taking care of themselves, Sun might be dying, Moon's probably tasked Monty and Foxy with helping Solar, or searching for the attacker- Everythings getting bad quickly, and they have at least two extra villains to worry about on top of the one who attacked Sun (It could have been Bloodmoon, Stitchwraith, or Eclipse. I doubt Stitchwraith would go for Sun tho)- AND-

*Glances at fanfic that spawned last night while listening to "Meteor Shower" by Cavetown*

Yeah so if they don't follow through with that threat Bloodmoon made soon, I'm about to do it for them 🤣

Anyway would you be interested in my own take on that scenario if/when I finish it? (It would end up being within an AU, to avoid the "literally-everything-happening-at-once" issue. I want to be able to let these guys just kinda sit in their feelings without Eclipse busting down the door to interrupt it every five seconds)

I an very much interested to hear about this scenario once you finish it ^^

And yes I too am waiting for something to happen to sun but I don't think they'll kill him, maybe have something else happen to him

[raggaraddy]

hello if you want you can ignore this of course but I was wondering what would vampire Hoseok do if he found out someone turned oc? Your fics are amazing by the way!

Bitten to death

A/N: Thank you for your request :) It was fun to write. However I took it less as a reaction, and more of a story prompt. So it's not exactly a conclusive answer to your question. I hope you still like it, though ^-^ 💜💜💜

Summary: You thought you knew everything about Vampires but when you wake up one you learn there are some important things you did not know. And it's only going to let worse once you learn why you were turned.

Trigger Warnings: Blood, death, maiming, choking, violence, mind control, abduction, yandere themes.

Vampire! Hoseok

It was like a horror story within your already horrific story. Some man you've never met before broke into Hoseok's house when only you were there. While you screamed and fought and instinctively called for Hoseok, he covered you in bites unlike any other you had felt before. Ones that made you suffer as if fire was coursing through your veins. You wish that you could say you were strong enough that your fight had some kind of impact. But in truth, it was over after only a few seconds. And it was in those few seconds that you felt your chest burning and your breath fill your lungs for the last time.

Waking you're met by the stranger hovering above you. Your head aching and your body throbbing in ways you had never experienced before. With a quick glance, you can see everything around you, and that does mean everything. Every single little detail. And the information is overwhelming.

Your mind feels as if it's breaking from everything you're taking in. For as far as you can see there are pallets and long isles of shelves lined up, the contents on every rack crystal clear. You can hear the sound of his shoes on the concrete and the dirt gritting underneath, and how each peak of sound travels and bounces off the farthest point in the warehouse. Even the smells, there are hundreds of them all hitting you at once. A few you know like the fragrance of the treated wood or the oils stain, but others you couldn't guess at. It's as if all of your senses are on high and you have no way to focus them.

Despite your panic, no matter how much you want to run, you can't. Laying on your back with your arms spread out to either side of you and your legs held together, you're being bound by the thinnest most delicate length of silver chain. Though, it's not tied. It's only draped over you, but still holding you as if it were stronger than any steel. Burning you as if it were touched by the sun.

You may have only seen a few newly made vampires before, but you have still been around them enough and know enough about their existence to recognize how and why your body feels wrong. And absurdly you can't help but feel betrayed. This was not supposed to happen to you. It was the only safety you got from belonging to someone who was called The Immortal King, and The Origin of Cruelty. No one was supposed to be foolish enough to steal from him, and most importantly, no one was supposed to be able to hurt you. But now because Hobi didn't keep you safe, he's now lost his blood supply and you've lost your humanity.

The stranger snaps his fingers, the sound bursting in your eardrums making you groan and wince as he repeats it. "Focus your attention on just this one sound. On just the sight of my hand. Feel the air around it." He coaxes you, snapping again. The noise echos dozens of times, ricocheting off every wall. The dull thud of his fingertips hitting his palm only sounding the once though.

Opening your eyes your concentration goes to the hand held above your face as he said, the space around it blurring. On the back of his pointer finger on an otherwise porcelain complexion, you notice a small patch of dry skin just below his knuckle. Clear blue-black defined veins wrapping the back of his palm. He clicks his fingers again and you catch the sound of friction from the way his finger rubs down his thumb, feeling the most minuscule shift in the air created by his motion.

The pinpointed attention helps for a moment, but then you shift your eyes to his face and the explosion of information overpowers you again. His hold comes around your neck keeping your head from turning. The tight pressure on your throat while stifling your movement, nearly makes you smile. There's no airflow to restrict. Your chest isn't heating, your body isn't convulsing trying to breathe. Even in this tense moment, you can't help but find it humorous, thinking how many times over the years had you wished for this exact thing when Hobi had squeezed the air from you.

"Watch my eyes," on his words your vision becomes immersed in them. They're piercing blue. Made up of streaks of white interlacing with a clear sapphire shade, like thousands of threads made out of the purest tropical ocean. A transparent irregular line encircling his pupil, and beyond that every distinct strand blurs together with the others until it reaches the shadowed grey edge that holds the circular shape. Slowly his jet black pupils dilate, stretching and filling his entire iris till every trace of colour is removed. As if transfixed, you're unable to close your own eyes, a flooding of bright light filling your field of view. The strength of it is so intense that the tendons in your sockets ache and your eyes begin to water. Tears rolling down the sides of your face, cresting in your ears.

"Apologies, you are only my second." He confuses you with a vague explanation you did not ask for. The black finally receding into its natural size. Your own eyes scrunching as you try to blink away the soreness. The bizarre occurrence leaving you feeling drained of strength, filling you with anxiety caused by the uncertainty, which is only worsened by the glimmer of triumph in his gaze.

Searching past him to the ceiling your brain is again processing the whole image instead of the sum of its parts. The strain in your head slowly fading, your tight held muscles releasing as everything begins to normalize. You don't know what he did, but it seemed to help.

He doesn't back away, continuing to invade your personal space. Although, the way his fingers are trailing along your skin while you're restrained on the floor is still not the worst thing he has done to you. Seeing as he killed you.

"I had almost given up hope that Jung Hoseok would love." His hand daintily caresses along your neck and up your jaw. Your eyes shutting as his fingertips run over your lips. "I began to fear it might not be something possible for him." He divulges, his touch still aimlessly wandering.

The way he speaks you can feel his vailed anger. Despite his soft words, this is not someone who cares about Hoseok's wellbeing, this is someone who hates him deeply.

"However, you restored my lost faith. And for that, I would like to thank you, Inamorata."

He thinks Hoseok loves you? Is he crazy?. He's possessive of you, that is all. Even in moments of deception or weakness when you had told him that you loved him, he's never said it back with any sincerity. And he has never said it of his own accord.

"Sir," your eyes reopen. "I think you've misunderstood. These," you weakly gesture to the silver, each slight movement searing the links deeper into your flesh. "aren't necessary. We are on the same side. I hate Hobi, more than anyone."

"Truly?" He asks tilting his head to the side. His white hair messily hanging across his forehead.

"Yes," you nod trying to insist your point. "He's kept me locked up for years." you chuckle dryly. Finding it nearly risible that all of this is because this man believes in a fantasy.

"Well then, you are free to rise," he nods resolutely. Plucking the chains out of your melted skin as you grit your teeth. The sound of the sizzle on his own skin baffling you as to how he can even lift them.

Sitting up you gently pull your limbs in, inspecting the blistered and bloody marks. The skin on your wrists already starting to intricately knit itself back together.

"Come here." The stranger calls from a rested place on one of the pallets to your right.

Standing, it is a bit hard to walk with your ankles still cut up but you make it to him decently. Looking around you, you can see the sun streaming in from the high windows that line the whole length of the warehouse. It's enough to light up the otherwise dark space, but with the sheer size of this place, the beams of sunlight do not get close to the two of you in the centre. Still in the middle of the day, it means Hobi can't get to you. Not easily at least. So you're on your own for now.

"Kneel." He instructs plainly. And you follow, lowering onto your knees in front of him. Your only thoughts are of escape. You may be in your first minutes as a vampire, but it should be simple to move quickly. It always seemed like something that came easily to them. "Inamorata, you will call me Master." he declares abruptly.

"Yes, Master." You smile confusedly. Inamorata? Why does he keep calling you that? You're unsure if it's a name or a title, but it's weirding you out.

Your face drops, your heart thumping, realizing what you said. The words you just spoke replaying in your head. You hadn't meant to say that.

Why did you say that?

In fact, why had you knelt? Why were you doing what he said at all?

With a gaped mouth you climb back to your feet. "Look, I think-um." You start not knowing what you want to say.

"Kneel." He orders again more forcefully yet with a knowing, jovial smirk. You shake your head hard, staying upright. You're not going to let him order you around. He has to be kidding.

Your brows furrow, your mouth drops open, and your forehead tightens as your knees bend against your wishes. You drop back into your knelt position. Grunting as your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into your legs, doing your best to resist without success.

Your eyes go wide in shock.

"Good. Now stay there," his voice makes your stomach drop. But your muscles relax, your shoulders dropping and your bottom lowering on your calves. Your body resting in this position.

This is nothing you have ever seen before. It's nothing that you knew was possible. It shouldn't be possible. On top of all the horrible advantages they already have, you're sure you would have known if mind control was one of them!

"How?" You gape, shaking your head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Why?" a smile fills his face, "What you have told me is far different than what I had heard." He stands and turns, tapping his foot against the top pallet sending it and its boxed contents flying. He grabs at the bottom slats of wood underneath and drags them closer to you with a horrid screeching on the concrete. Sitting back down he is now much lower and much nearer to you. So much so that his legs spread straight out on either side of you. "See, I had heard stories of the self-proclaimed King of Vampires, who had fallen in love with his human pet. That he kept her close, kept her safe, and drank from her exclusively."

"That's not love." you interrupt with a scoff, "That's imprisonment."

"Well, let us see what the truth is. Tell me honestly, Jung Hoseok's little Inamorata, do you love him?"

"Yes." You're mouth answers before your mind has time to think. "No!" you instantly correct.

The smile grows larger on his face "And what do you feel about him?"

"I'm scared of him. But I care for him." The words are pouring out of you uncontrollably, your face placifying as you speak. "and I miss him when he isn't home."

"And does he love you?"

"I think so, yes." You wish you could make yourself shut up! Your calm tone drops and you bite your jaw trying to take back your own body, growling as you do. "No! He doesn't." you snarl in a rapid shift.

"You think so? Then my last question; Do you want him to love you?" He asks satirically.

"Yes," The word slips out. Being accepted joyously from him. "You can't just make me say anything you want!" you shout. Your body is rigid and stiff as you think to stand with nothing happening.

"I did not," he chuckles, "I made you say what you believe is true."

"No, you didn't! Tha-" his finger raises to his lips shushing you, cutting you off like your voice had disappeared.

That is not how you feel! Hobi may have gotten better as time has gone on, but he is still cruel and malicious and heartless. The only thing this man is doing is speaking to your primal brain. The part of you that gave into its survival instinct and it's the part that you fight every day to repress so that you stay in control. You can't love him, it's not possible.

"Ha, you are far more amenable than my last. I can hardly feel any resistance." He mocks, tapping his temple. "And I recall Jung Hoseok trying to move heaven and earth to break free. Even Mansueto struggled to contain him. But you," he reaches down holding out his hand and you follow his gesture, your body moving independently to accept it. "You are a broken little thing."

You don't understand his ridicule. You're not moving consciously. Your own mind isn't connected to your actions. So you can't fathom how your body is even reacting, let alone how you should be able to fight it.

"Stop." You complain, your voice coming out with far less strength than you had intended. "Look, Hoseok doesn't have my blood anymore, okay. So just leave me out of whatever fucked up feud you have you have going with him."

"No, that is not enough." his tone becomes suddenly harsh. He lifts his hand and you stand as he raises it. "He stole someone precious to me and he must feel the same agony of loss."

"You're wrong." you swallow, working to overcome your nerves, "I'm sorry, but you just are. He doesn't love me. I'm not precious." You try to reason, seeing your pleas falling on an unreceptive man.

"We will see."

The sun has barely set before you hear commotion beyond the metal walls.

You had tried over and over to pry information from this man, to convince him to let you leave. But you were unable to gather so much as a name from him, and clearly, you failed to be let go. After a certain point of ignoring you, he stopped you from speaking altogether. Not allowing you to say a word until he permits it. More than that though, he filled your head with many instructions. Telling you how to behave in anticipation of Hoseok's arrival.

100 meters in front of you the locked doors are ripped off their hinges, a dozen men and women pouring into the warehouse with inhuman speed. But as if time slows down your eyes adjust and you can see them, see their movements with full clarity. Hoseok comes in last and straight down the middle into the open square that you all occupy. And you must admit, you are genuinely happy to see him. Now you just want him to hurry up and get you out of here.

The man steps forward to meet them while you are sat on the stack of pallets behind him. Your only instruction at this time is to sit quietly and wait for him to call you. Hating the feeling of being restrained by your own body.

Watching them all lineup versus a single man, you find it comical how outmatched he is.

Hobi always said that when he got tired of playing with your human body, he was going to turn you. And he was furious if anyone robbed him of even your smallest reactions, so clearly, he was going to be beyond pissed that someone sped up his plan, and took your death away from him.

"That's mine," Hoseok puffs up his chest, looking past the man's shoulder to you. 

The only thing that's confusing you, though, is if this man knows who The Vampire King is, why he didn't expect to be met with hell on earth, and why he didn't prepare better.

"Jung Hoseok, always so impolite. Do you not think you should greet an old friend after so many years?"

"We can talk all you like, Kol," Hoseok snarls, finally giving a name to your killer. "Once I get my property back."

"I think you'll find this is my belonging now." he chuckles in a brief pause. Hoseok's expression darkens, his eyes becoming murderous. The fury around him actually making you shiver. "Do you like the modifications I made? She is much more durable now."

Supposedly, Hobi's already noticed your change, because he doesn't look at you again. Instead, the two men have an intense staredown. All of the vampires on his side looking ready to kill on a word.

"And far more obedient. Come here," Kol calls you, holding his hand out at shoulder height for you to take. Moving automatically, you jump down from the stack of wooden pallets placing your fingers on his palm.

Unable to stand the rage on Hoseok's face you look down, just missing the exact moment he charges. But you see an instant later as he is thrown back like a paper doll into four stories of shelves, his weight bringing the metal, the shelves, and the products down on top of him as the whole structure collapses. His men looking as startled as you to see Hoseok so easily discarded.

Before the toppling construction settles, Kol breaks from your side and an incredible, horrible scene breaks out. His speed is something you can't follow, even now. You only see the trail of destruction when he stops. One after the other, he made his way through half of the vampires, ripping them apart. Literally tearing some in two halves. Decorating the square with blood and innards.

The others are as belated and overwhelmed as you, only just having the sense to react as his blurred image stops. When he advances again, this time he doesn't use his quickness for an advantage and simply ploughs through them. They attack all at once, and still as they grab and strike at him, their forces barely move him. And his response is terrifying.

You can only bear to watch the first one. Kol's fist driving through a woman's chest, the horrid cracking of her ribs as he tears it back out making you want to scream. But his orders have you completely silent. Instead, you close your eyes, sealing your hands over your ears. Trying to block out the violent sickening sounds of his destructive rampage.

There's a last thud before it falls quiet again. Your eyes springing open to see as horrific of a sight as you had imagined. He's dripping in blood. Drenched in it. And Hoseok's people are strewn in every which way. Not a single one having survived.

Sauntering through the sea of dead bodies, he makes his way to the side where Hoseok is unmoved, tossing away the beams and panels as if they were nothing. Grabbing him by the ankle, he drags him from the rubble into the clear space in front of you. The man you once thought of as the most powerful in existence, and his troupe of vampires, was completely demolished in mere seconds of work. And you can only watch on with your body shaking. Your hopes of rescue decimated. Your chest aching with worry, even for Hobi's sake.

"Now that it's a more intimate number of us, should we talk?" Kol releases him, brushing past you as he sits where you had before. His action triggering an instruction he provided earlier, forcing you to follow him and kneel at his feet.

Sitting up, Hoseok rubs the back of his hand against a large gash under his eye. The ferocity not having left his mannerisms. "You disappear for 90 years, and you show up to what, gimmie a blood bath." His laugh falls into a grimace as he stands himself back up.

"I was created in the 13th century and you brought infants to a fight with me. What did you think would happen?" Kol asks scornfully.

"I was hoping they would do a little better," He smirks, shrugging off their deaths. "Okay, that's my bad. But still, that doesn't tell me what you want. Or did you just want to remind me that you're still alive?" He taunts, his sardonic nature returning, "Remind me that you're still pissed and you can kick my ass. Good job. You put on quite a show." he smiles, his tongue running over his fangs as he gestures around at the gruesome display. "But she," he points to you with two fingers, bitterness lacing his next words, "is worth nothing to you."

"Oh, she is worth everything to me," Kol slides forward, his hand brushing down the back of your neck, "because she is worth everything to you."

On those words, you get the most heart-wrenching sight. A pang of insecurity shows up in Hoseok's eyes. Uncertainty and something so close to fear. The smile fading as he looks him up and down.

"I am curious, though, Vampire King, do you think she will detest the Sire bond as greatly as you did?" he punctuates the question, tugging your head back by your hair. "If I treat her as Mansueto treated you, how long do think until she breaks?"

With immense speed, Hoseok splinters one of the wooden crates near him, lunging at Kol, aiming to drive the shard into his heart with a roar. But he's caught before his hand ever plunges forward. Instead, Kol takes the sharp wood and spikes it into Hoseok's stomach. Continuing to dominate him with a solid blow, knocking him off his feet, smacking him into the concrete in front of you. Stepping down, he swings his foot punting Hoseok in the chest hurling him back among the remains of his fallen creations.

You had thought if you ever saw Hobi being handled as roughly as he treated you, that you would enjoy the Karma of it. But seeing him so easily immobilized is making you sick with fear and mostly sadness.

With Kol having stood, you're no longer bound on your knees and you scramble to your feet. You want to run to Hoseok's side but before you have the chance Kol drags you into him, his hand wrapped around your waist, his other crudely brushing the hair from off the side of your face.

"Call out to him. Tell him your every feeling." He hushes the order in your ear.

"Hobi!" you yell, not sure you would have even needed to be compelled to want to shout for him. "Get up, please. I'm scared. I wanna go home!"

"Go to him," Kol releases you and you sprint to his side, hardly able to slow your sudden frantic speed.

Doubled over Hoseok is bleeding profusely. He needs your blood- but you can't do that anymore. And you have no idea what to do. You don't know how to help him or how to get out of here. He's the one that is supposed to keep you safe.

Coming from behind you, Kol bends down shoving you out of the way to lift Hoseok by the throat. "Stop!" you follow their movement, hanging on Kol's arm. "Stop! Please." But you have no effect. Instead, he jerks the wood dagger out making Hobi yell in pain.

"Do you recall what you said as you killed our Sire?" Kol whispers maliciously. "You told me that 'I will get over it'." Releasing him, he lets Hoseok plummet to the floor and you drop with him trying to catch his weight. "In 100 years from now, I'll let you see her again and you can tell me if you were able to take your own advice." he smiles spitefully.

"Hobi," you whine lowly. Brushing his hair from his sweat and blood wet forehead. "I don't want to go with him. Rather the devil you know, right," you softly chuckle, trying to pull his energy back.

Even though you know the both of you have no chance at the moment, you guess you're just looking for an affirmation that he isn't going to let you go and let this other man keep you for the next century.

"Please," you whisper, your waterline filling with tears.

Reaching towards you, Hoseok's hand constricts around your throat, pulling you into him like he has countless times before.

"You're mine," he growls through pained grunts. His anger lessened, distress replacing it. But he gives you the answer he could see you searching for.

"Yes," you nod subtly. Closing your eyes as you lean further into his hold.

"Get up," Kol orders, interrupting you.

Despite his tightening grip, you pull away from Hobi, standing as you were told. The elder vampire taking your arm leads you away through the bodies to the open doorway.

"Say goodbye Jung Hoseok," Kol calls back, leaving him injured and alone, making you wish more than ever that you could pull back. "And do not worry, I'll take very good care of her for you."

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 28: Summer Changes (School)

AO3

Prev

A week after the Disney movie marathon, Marinette was finally back on patrol. No thanks to her dad though. If it was up to him, she’d probably never patrol again. Luckily for her, (unluckily for him) her brothers were adamant on her coming back to the field. Which led to her current problem. Hanging upside down from a gargoyle near Wayne Enterprises.

“Ukht, what have you done?” Damian asks, and though she can’t see his face, she can tell by his voice that he’s exasperated. Join the club, she thinks, at least you’re not upside down.

“Why do you automatically think I did something?” She asks, trying desperately to turn around so that she can talk to him. It was really awkward talking to someone when you couldn’t see them but you knew they were near you.

“Because you are the one hanging upside down,” Damian says flatly. She huffs.

“It’s not like I want to be, Robin. It just kind of happened,” She says.

“And how exactly did it happen? I have never seen your yoyo betray you like that before. Not even in the videos when you were still very new.” Damian says, and she swears he’s smirking. He’s definitely laughing at her on the inside, and as much as she wants to be frustrated, she can’t. It wasn’t easy amusing her little brother (unless you were an animal) so she wasn’t about to ruin it.

“Hood made a bet relating to this exact gargoyle and I’d never been this way before and I just, I don’t know. Somehow I misjudged where my yoyo was going and next thing I know, I’m tied up and Hood is gone.” She says, sighing.

“Where did he go?” Damian asks.

“Over here so I could record the dumbass trying to untie herself.” Jason says with a snort, she manages to turn just enough so she can see him and stick her tongue out at him. He chuckles. “You’re the one who somehow tied herself up with a magic string, I’m just getting the proof so I can show Wonder Woman.” He says and Marinette’s jaw drops.

“You wouldn’t dare!” She screams, struggling against her yoyo, finally able to get the string to loosen slightly.

“Oh, I’d dare.” Jason says and Marinette just knows he has a huge smirk underneath his stupid helmet.

“But Wonder Woman is the coolest person ever and she can’t see me like this!” Marinette complains, trying not to grin when she feels the string start to move the way she needs it to. She ignores Jason’s next remark, instead focusing on the string and- yes! She free falls for a moment, laughing at her brothers’ panic before she swoops up and jerks Jason’s phone away from him.

“You little shit!” He calls after her, starting to chase her.

“You’ll get it back once I delete the videos!” She calls back, laughing as she continues swinging through Gotham, a warm feeling in her chest as she looks over the city that has quickly become her second home.

---

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” A voice screams, making Marinette jump out of bed with a yelp. She clutches her hand over her heart, glaring at her oldest brother.

“Are you trying to make sure I don’t make it past my fifteenth birthday?” She asks with a huff. Dick just grins.

“Happy birthday kiddo! I can’t believe you’re already fifteen!” He exclaims, picking her up in a giant hug. She wants to complain, ask him to let her down, but it’s nice, so instead she returns the hug the best she can. Until she glances out the window.

“Richard Grayson.” She says in a tone she usually reserves for enemies. She feels him stiffen, the hug turning into more of a restraint than a cuddle.

“Yes?” He says.

“Did you honestly wake me up, before the sun, because it’s my birthday?” She asks.

“Yes?” He says, his voice cracking slightly. She purses her lips and lets out a long sigh.

“Dad has a no killing rule.” She says, and suddenly she’s back on the ground.

“Oh would you look at the time, Mar’i needs another bedtime story loveyousomuchgottagobye.” Dick rushes out, practically sprinting out of her room. She just smiles and shakes her head. She’d learned intimidation tactics from Jason and Damian, who both claimed her size made her an easy target against bad guys. They were right, of course, so she was fine with a few extra lessons. Seems they were working. Deciding to call her Maman and Papa since she’s already awake, she frowns as it goes straight to voicemail. It would be nearly eleven in Paris, so the bakery shouldn’t be too busy. She quickly checks the Akuma Alert App to make sure she hadn’t missed anything while she slept. Nothing. So why weren’t they answering? She had assumed they would be waiting for her call since it was the first birthday she’d spent without them. Sighing, she lays back down on her bed, closing her eyes and trying to fall back asleep.

As she lays there, she frowns as a realization hits her. This was the anniversary of her birth mother’s death. Her mood instantly sours and her stomach churns. It was the first year that she could do something about it, the first year she could visit her grave. Quickly making a decision, Marinette throws on a pair of black leggings and an oversized black hoodie. Hopefully no one would spot her.

“Kaalki.” Marinette calls out quietly, not wanting to wake Tikki (who had somehow slept through Dick’s intrusion).

“Oooo, Guardian, are we sneaking out?” They ask, an amused smile on their face. Marinette frowns.

“Yes, but it’s for a good reason.” She says, and Kaalki snorts.

“Whatever the reason, I’m happy to be of assistance.” They reassure her. Marinette smiles and calls the transformation, opening a portal in the cemetery where her birth mother is buried. Her Maman had taken her once, right after telling her she was adopted. It was extremely hard to avoid being akumatized that day, and Marinette steels herself before dropping Kaalki’s transformation. Today would probably be even harder. Pulling the hood over her head to try and hide her identity, she glances around the cemetery, unsurprised to see the small place empty. Despite its small size, it was well taken care of, with beautiful trees adding shade and creating a melancholy feeling. Taking a deep breath, she walks over to the tombstone in the far corner, underneath the Willow tree. Bridgette Le. Died July 9th. Marinette barely notices the tears that start to form as she sits down, tucking her knees into her chest.

“Hi Mama. I-I’m sorry I haven’t really been by to see you much. Did you know I’ve been spending the summer with Dad? Sometimes, I wonder if you would’ve been okay with that. None of us really know why you left, why you didn’t tell him. I’m not blaming you, I just wonder if you would’ve been okay with me knowing him.” She talks, though she knows she’ll never hear a response. And she tries to pretend that fact doesn’t hurt her. “I have brothers. Four of them. They’re all great in their own ways, but they all also make me want to rip my hair out. Three of them are older, Damian’s younger than me. He kinda acts like a big brother at times though. And I have a big sister, Cass. She doesn’t say much, but she’s awesome. She’s in Hong Kong right now, so most of our conversations have been video calls. I have a niece, too.” Marinette stops, wiping furiously at her eyes. She didn't want to cry. At all. But knowing her birth mother would never be able to be part of her life, would never know any of these people like she did- it was hard.

“Guardian, please breathe.” Kaalki says, floating up to sit in front of Marinette’s face. Marinette blinks at the Kwami before listening to them. If they were worried, then Marinette was more lost in her head than she originally thought.

“And today’s my birthday. I was excited at first, and then I remembered the other thing that this day was. Remembered that it’s also the day you-” Marinette pauses, and grits her teeth. “I am so sorry, Mama. I am so sorry that I caused your death.” She chokes out, dropping her head onto her knees, trying to suppress the sobs threatening to break out of her chest.

“We need to go. Marinette, we need to go.” Kaalki urges, patting her cheek urgently. Marinette calls the transformation and falls through a portal, closing it quickly to keep the butterfly that was surely after her from following. She definitely didn’t need to test how far the victim had to be to be akumatized. The second she lands, she lets the transformation drop and the sobs break out.

“Shit Pixie.” Jason curses, and suddenly she’s wrapped in a warm hug, sobs tearing through her as she continues to apologize.

---

Jason Todd had been through a lot of weird shit. Waking up in a pool of green water after being fucking murdered by the Joker, was weird. Emotional baby sister falling through a portal into the room and sobbing? Also weird. But also heartbreaking. He grabs onto her and just holds her, desperately trying to give her some type of comfort.

“Shhhh, it’s okay Pix. I got you.” He mumbles, holding her close. Damian rushes in, sword drawn, face scrunched up when he sees them. Jason shakes his head, this wasn’t something that they could fix with a sword. He wasn’t exactly sure why his baby sister was crying so hard, but he had caught a couple of muffled apologies, so whatever it was, he didn’t think it was something that he (or Damian) could kill. Or, rather, maim, since she was against murdering people that were against her for some reason.

“Has anyone seen Mars, she’s not in her room-” Replacement starts, freezing as he walks into the room.

“Excellent situational awareness, Drake.” Damian mutters, glaring at him. Jason shoots both of them a glare, now was not the time to be fighting. Especially since the kid’s other parents were on their way to celebrate her birthday. If they showed up and she was sobbing, they’d take her home and never let them see her again. And Jason was NOT going to let that happen.

“Anyone know if M’s decided to not kill me yet?” Dick asks, walking into the room with a huge grin that falls the second he sees what’s happening. Jason resists the urge to roll his eyes. Apparently none of his brothers could read a fucking room. Instead of staying at the edge of the room like Damian and Tim, Dick walks over.

“Hey kiddo, it’s okay. We’re here.” He says softly. The kid pulls away from him, though he can tell it’s a little reluctantly, before launching herself at Dick, her sobs starting to die down. Jason lets out a short huff, running his fingers through his hair as he tries to think of what could have set her off. There were no akuma alarms, but she fell out of a portal. Which means she was out of the manor when she got upset. He watches as Dick pats her hair gently and whispers to her. God, he’s such a dad. Then again, he’s been mother henning him and their other brothers for years, so it’s not really a surprise.

“I’m sorry guys.” Marinette says suddenly, her voice small as she stays hidden in Dick’s arms.

“No need to apologize, Pixie Pop.” Jason reassures her. She finally pulls away from Dick and Jason’s heart, honest to god breaks at the broken look on her face.

“She died in childbirth, you know.” She whispers, and suddenly it makes sense. Why she was sitting there sobbing on her birthday, why she’d fallen out of a portal.

“That is not your fault.” Damian says firmly, walking over and standing face to face with Marinette, something Jason knew annoyed the girl. Damian was two years younger, but a little taller than her. She didn’t seem to mind now, though.

“But it was. If I hadn’t been born-” She starts and Jason frowns at the thought.

“The world would be a much shittier place.” He says with finality, not leaving room for her to argue. “Pix, you’re amazing, and the world would really suck without you. Never be sorry you were born.” Jason says firmly, stumbling slightly when she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“Thank you Jay.” She mumbles, and he can tell she’s crying again, but this time it’s not sobs, so he thinks it’s fine.

“Come on, let’s all watch a movie.” Repla- Tim suggests and Jason raises an eyebrow at the idea, briefly wondering what kind of movie he’d pick. They all pile on the giant sectional that Bruce had bought specifically for impromptu movie nights as Tim sticks the DVD in. Jason just snorts as the title card for “The Addams Family” comes on, settling back in the couch, ready to watch one of the greatest movies ever.

---

“Thank you again for flying us out here for her birthday.” Sabine says, smiling at him. Bruce returns the smile and nods.

“Of course, thank you for letting her spend the summer here. I know she’s appreciated the break from her classmates.” He says, his smile quickly fading at the confused look on both Sabine and Tom’s faces.

“What do you mean?” Tom asks.

“Marinette hasn’t told you?” Bruce asks, suddenly regretting bringing it up. Why hadn’t she said anything? They were her parents too. Sure, she’d made it clear they couldn’t know about Ladybug, but her class wasn’t a hero problem. They were a civilian problem.

“We knew that she wasn’t hanging out with them as often, and that she didn’t talk about her class as much as she used to. We just assumed that she was busy.” Sabine says, her face a mixture of sadness and anger.

“My apologies, I assumed she’d talked to you.” Bruce says, feeling as if he had crossed a line. Would they be mad at him, for her telling him something she hadn’t told them?

“She’s always looking out for others first,” Tom finally sighs, a tired smile on his face. “She probably thought she was saving us from being akumatized.” Bruce’ jaw clenches. Had Marinette really suffered in silence to avoid being forced to fight her parents?

“We can continue this conversation later, right now we should focus on her birthday.” Sabine says, placing a hand on Tom’s arm. He nods and Bruce makes a note to talk to the two about the possibility of her switching schools.

“She’s probably in her room.” Bruce says, leading the two towards the stairs.

“Actually, Master Bruce, the children are all in the informal sitting room. I believe they snuck down to have a movie night after Master Dick woke Miss Marinette to wish her a happy birthday.” Alfred says, Bruce watches his face and knows that’s not all, but doesn’t press. It had to be something that he couldn’t talk about in front of the Dupain Cheng’s.

“Of course they did. Thank you, Alfred. Alfred, this is Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, Marinette’s parents. Tom, Sabine, this is Alfred Pennyworth. He’s the man who raised me.” Bruce says, smiling at him. The three exchange pleasantries and soon Bruce is leading the two to the sitting room. He pushes the door open gently, careful not to let it slam. He spots a sword on the floor near Damian and quickly grabs it, moving it away. If he was woken up suddenly, he would still panic and attempt to fight his way out.

“She looks so peaceful.” Sabine whispers, and Bruce smiles, a genuine smile, he didn’t have to fake a smile when most of his children were together and safe and happy. Or, quiet, at least. It was rare.

“I’ve found them like this several times.” Bruce admits, pulling out his phone to show the two all of the pictures he’d taken of the kids piled together sleeping. Sabine and Tom smile widely at the pictures and Bruce quickly sends them their favorites.

“B, I swear to god, I can sense you in here. Let us sleep.” Jason mumbles grumpily.

“Sorry Jason, Marinette’s parents are here so it’s time to get up.” Bruce says, amused at the way his son’s hair was attempting to defy gravity. Jason looked around sleepily, waved lazily at Sabine and Tom, and then collapsed back on the couch. Bruce sighs. “Would the two of you like to have a cup of coffee while we give them a few more minutes to sleep?” He offers.

“That would be lovely.” Sabine says, and Bruce leads the two to the kitchen, hoping Tim (who had sat straight up after Jason flopped down) would take the hint and wake up the others.

---

Marinette sighs happily as everyone sits down at the table for dinner. The day had been amazing, despite the rough start. And her Dad had even flown her Maman and Papa out to spend the day with her. They couldn’t stay for long, they had the bakery to run after all, but it was still nice to see them. Marinette glances at the end of the table where a place was set, but no one sat.

“What’s with the extra plate?” Jason asks, turning to Alfred who was sitting in the chair next to it instead of his regular seat.

“It is for Miss Le.” He says, and she can almost feel everyone freeze. Her throat tightens, but she still smiles at him with watery eyes.

“Thank you, Alfred.” She says quietly. He nods.

“You are quite welcome, Miss.” He says. She clears her throat and looks back at her Maman, noticing that her smile was also a little sad. It had been all day, but Marinette was certain it wasn’t anything to worry about. Bridgette had been close with her Maman, surely she was just mourning her today, openly for the first time in a long time.

---

Marinette groans at whoever is trying to wake her up.

“Five more minutes.” She mutters, burrowing deeper under the covers. It was summer break, why wouldn’t anyone let her sleep?

“Come on sweetheart, your Papa and I want to talk to you and Bruce.” Her Maman says, and she immediately sits up. Was she in trouble? Had her Maman figured out the whole Batman thing? Had she figured out the Ladybug thing?

“Uh, okay.” She says, sliding out of bed and stepping into slippers. She wasn’t sure how serious the conversation was, but since her Maman didn’t stop her from walking out of the room in her pajamas, she relaxed slightly. It couldn’t be that serious, right? She follows her Maman into her Dad’s study, glancing wearily at the clock in the corner. Her Maman was often too observant. Hopefully she didn’t notice anything odd about the clock. They all sit in silence for an entire minute until Marinette can’t handle it anymore.

“Am I in trouble?” She asks hesitantly, looking between her parents’ faces.

“Of course not, we just- We noticed how different you are.” Her Maman says and Marientte frowns, furrowing her eyebrows. Different? She was different?

“How?” She asks.

“You’re happier than I’ve seen you in months honey. Your smile reaches your eyes, you talk freely, you seem peaceful.” Her Maman says softly, and Marinette blinks in surprise. Had she really been so easy to read in Paris? Had her parents really been able to tell? She’d wanted to hide it from them, not let them see how everything was piling on her, crushing her. She didn’t want to worry them.

“What do you- how-” She stumbles over her words, trying to figure out where she messed up.

“We didn’t know why until we talked to Bruce.” Her Papa says and she turns to glare at her Dad, feeling a little betrayed. He holds up his hands in surrender.

“Marinette, you didn’t tell me not to tell them about your class.” He reminds her, and she huffs.

“Guess we can cross mind reader off the list of things you can do.” She mumbles, making her Papa snort.

“It wasn’t just that though. We’d seen how restrained you had become, how you never went out with friends and you stopped talking about them.” Her Maman says softly. Marinette grits her teeth, hugging herself to try and hold herself together.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” She says, her voice barely audible. That wasn’t the main reason though. She didn’t want to fight her parents, and if they knew everything going on with Lila, they’d definitely be akumatized. She couldn’t fight them. Not if she could help it.

“What would you say about transferring schools?” Her Maman asks suddenly, and Marinette jerks her head up, looking at her with wide eyes. Transfer schools? It would be great, amazing, fantastic, but- but her classmates would still come to the bakery. Still give her the same odd looks they’d been giving her since they found out that she’s a Wayne.

“What school?” She asks, because yes, that makes a difference. Chloe had transferred schools not long ago, and Marinette did not want to trade Lila for Chloe. She’d rather not deal with either of them, if she was being honest.

“Gotham Academy.” Her Maman says, and Marinette feels lucky that she wasn’t drinking anything, because she would have definitely done a spit take. Gotham Academy? As in, live in Gotham year round? What-

“Are you giving me up?” She asks, suddenly hurt. Her Maman’s eyes widen and her Papa pulls her into a giant hug.

“Of course not honey.” He says, rubbing her back gently and squeezing her lightly.

“We asked Bruce if he thought Gotham Academy would be a good school for you. He offered to let you fly home some weekends, and any of the breaks you want. Or to fly us out here if you have time off school. You don’t have to say yes, and you don’t have to make a decision right now.” Her Maman reassures her as her Papa lets her go. Marinette turns to look at her Dad, his face unreadable.

“Would you really be okay with that?” She asks, and he nods.

“We all just want you to be happy, Marinette. Wherever that may be. And we’re all willing to work together to do that.” He says and she smiles, letting out a soft sigh.

“I- I’d need to think about it a little more,” She says, running through the idea in her head. It seemed perfect, besides the whole ‘bouncing back to Paris for attacks’ thing. But she’d been doing it all summer, it had been fine so far. And maybe, maybe, Hawkmoth would even be defeated by the end of summer. No matter what, things were changing and Marinette was trying her best to keep up.

Next

Tag list:  @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @laurcad123 @waiting247 @jayjayspixiepop @mizzy-pop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @lady-bee-fechin @corporeal-terrestrial

[bestworstcase]

on ‘villainy’ and varian’s and cassandra’s moral codes

for all that varian’s and cassandra’s villain arcs get compared to death they’re really more different than they are similar, and i think one of the more interesting distinctions is the characters’ moral perspectives on their own actions--namely that varian recognizes his own choices as villainous and consciously self-identifies as a ‘bad guy’ and cassandra not only…doesn’t do that but appears legitimately taken aback when varian says she’s ‘become the villain.’ from this we can infer that varian is transgressing his own personal sense of right and wrong while cassandra isn’t.

and… well with varian i think it’s pretty straightforward: he’s a kid who desperately wants to make the world a better place and make his father proud, but his impulsivity and recklessness and general disregard for lab safety foil his plans and get him into trouble. then one of his accidents puts his dad into what is essentially a magical coma and varian becomes singularly focused on reviving him--and, when he realizes that the king is more invested in covering up the problem than fixing it and his only hope lies with a zealously guarded relic belonging to the kingdom, he decides that the only way to achieve this goal is to start breaking the rules.

so he asks rapunzel--his friend who promised to help him--to retrieve some information the king is trying to steal from him, and then persuades her to help him access the sundrop vault; then when she balks at stealing it he makes it clear that he no longer trusts her and escapes with the flower. at this point he’s in the morally dubious zone; being strategic about what he tells rapunzel to make sure she helps him, spiking cookies with truth serum to sow chaos and get information he needs, and doing things that are crimes on paper but also largely victimless. i think these were things varian could probably rationalize as okay--not exactly good, but no one got hurt and he got what he needed.

except the flower’s magic is gone. he drugged the palace, manipulated rapunzel and broke her trust in him, and committed treason all for something useless because the actual magic of the sundrop is in rapunzel herself. now he’s in trouble, because he needs rapunzel’s help but his desperate measures guaranteed she won’t be willing to help him again. and this is when varian realizes that his only options are 1. give up on saving his dad and turn himself in and hope rapunzel takes pity on him, or 2. accept that no one is going to help him now and do whatever it takes to free quirin himself.

so--mutating ruddiger, attacking the city, kidnapping arianna and threatening her with encasement in amber, building an automaton army to defend him while he works--these are all things that varian feels are wrong, but chooses to do anyway because he doesn’t trust that anyone else will even try to save his father. despite his anger and his rationalizations, at the end of the day varian sees himself as doing bad things for good reasons. (“Believe me, I know/I’ve sunk pretty low” & “I’m the bad guy, that’s fine”)

and when his reasons fall through--when he fails to free his dad--he falls quickly into guilt and despair over having hurt people for nothing. he stews for a year in how unforgivable and ashamed he feels, and even when he teams up with the separatists, he’s doing it in, basically, pursuit of a reset button: he wants to take back what he did. and when rapunzel shows him that he can be forgiven, he can have a second chance, he does have people who are willing to help him and trust him again, he drops the memory-wiping idea and his alliance with the separatists without a second thought--because what rapunzel actually does is give him a way to pursue his goals without sacrificing his conscience, which is what he really needed the whole time.

now, cassandra, on the other hand…

cass is an interesting character in this regard because, while she does want to be a hero, she’s not at all altruistic. she’s consumed by her lack of autonomy and she craves not only control over her own life but also respect from the people around her--her desire to be a hero is very self-interested, at its core. and moreover she has a somewhat fatalistic view of the world wherein some people (not her) matter and some… just don’t. 

moreover cassandra, despite her ambitions of becoming a guard, doesn’t so much as blink at eugene’s or the pub thugs’ criminal pasts--she is suspicious of lance at first, but on the grounds that he’s an unrepentant thief who showed up out of the blue under suspicious circumstances to ‘reconnect’ with his old partner in crime; eugene is also distrustful of lance, for the exact same reasons--and of course she doesn’t think twice about breaking the law herself. literally one of the very first things we see cassandra do is commit treason to make her friend happy. cass doesn’t care about the law, and she only wants to be a guard because she associates getting the job with having her dad’s approval and it’s also her ticket out of lifelong servitude.

on the other hand, cass does seem have a strong sense of right and wrong where people she cares about are concerned. she is constantly putting the desires and well-being of her friends ahead of not just her ambitions (e.g. in beginnings for rapunzel, or great expotations for varian) but also her own safety (e.g. risking her livelihood and home to sneak rapunzel out for the night in bea, or setting aside her misgivings about the sketchy bird people in freebird). 

which is all to say--cass isn’t exactly amoral but the moral framework through which she sees the world is… more complicated than varian’s. she doesn’t seem particularly motivated to help strangers but she’ll move mountains to help people she cares about; she doesn’t care much about rules or laws except insofar as she doesn’t want to get caught breaking them, and she has this hierarchical mindset that some people matter--meaning, they get to make decisions for themselves and have people care about what they need and want--and some don’t, and that she herself is stuck in the latter category despite her best efforts to climb out of it.

which brings us to the subject of the moonstone, and cassandra’s villain arc, and why cass, unlike varian, doesn’t consider herself a bad person.

i think what it comes down to most is this: taking the moonstone is an act of defiance against not only rapunzel but also fate itself. waiting in the wings sets up cassandra’s resigned acceptance of this hierarchical order and her own cosmic insignificance, and then in crossing the line she REJECTS that same order. she’s raging against rapunzel but also against the cultural and legal and destined systems that put rapunzel on top and forced cass into subservience. she is very literally fighting for her freedom against the universe itself.

and when cass was not an altruistic or heavily morally motivated or even particularly law-abiding person before, and when her conscience has always been predominantly oriented around taking care of her friends first and herself second, and when the thing that drove her to this breaking point was her friends spitting that back in her face… well.

it’s easy to say “cass literally tried to murder rapunzel a bunch of times, how can she possibly believe she’s the good guy?”--but rapunzel maimed cass, blamed her for it, and consistently prioritized her destiny over cassandra’s wellbeing; and rapunzel represents the cosmic order that cass is fighting to liberate herself from. and while i know that the -popular- take on be very afraid is “cass is terrified of hurting rapunzel,” i submit it’s actually “cass is terrified of having to fight rapunzel, because she still believes that fate is literally tilted in rapunzel’s favor and she can’t win a direct fight with rapunzel.” that’s why she’s so scared; that’s why rapunzel seemingly deleting the red rocks hardens her resolve; that’s why she marches into corona with maximum drama and bluster and builds a fortress and tries so hard to mess with rapunzel’s head before the battle begins. she’s trying to even the odds. and that’s why, when rapunzel stomps her into the curb, cassandra’s immediate response is “i need an army.”

cassandra isn’t scared for rapunzel. she is scared OF rapunzel.

we do also see cass trying not to harm people she considers to be innocent bystanders; she uses the truth serum on varian bc she needs the incantation, but afterwards she doesn’t even bother to restrain him until after he starts pestering her, she says flat out that she doesn’t want him to get hurt when she fights rapunzel; similarly she is willing to hurt calliope to force rapunzel to comply, but--despite her deep personal dislike of calliope--uses a minimum amount of force and again verbally expresses that she doesn’t particularly want to hurt her, that it’s a means to an end and nothing more. attacking rapunzel? that’s fine, rapunzel is her enemy. attacking eugene? of course, he’s rapunzel’s closest ally. mind controlling the brotherhood? that kills two birds with one stone--eliminating powerful enemies with a vested interest in taking the moonstone away from her and turning them into allies who can level the playing field between her and rapunzel. and when she does finally snap and raze corona to the ground? the people of corona attacked her first. i think cass ABSOLUTELY sees herself as fighting a purely defensive war against people who have or will hurt her.

and this is, of course, ultimately why varian failed to get through to her during ‘nothing left to lose’--he appealed to her sense of morality and her sense of morality shrugged. 

as for the thing that snaps her out of it? the moment that forces her to question whether she’s really as right as she thinks she is? it’s learning who her new friend really is. it’s the shock of finding out that she’s been allied with, confiding in, taking advice from a legendary villain, from a monster she likely grew up hearing stories about. cass takes it as a given that zhan tiri is evil--and if she’s friends with zhan tiri, what does that make her? and even then, cass is resistant to the idea that she might be a villain--“No, no, I’m nothing like you. Just because I’m pursuing my destiny doesn’t make me a bad person!”--which is, ultimately, very telling of her whole mindset. she’s not a bad guy, she’s fighting for her freedom. she’s not a bad guy, she’s protecting herself against people who want to exploit her. she’s not a bad guy, she’s just putting herself first for once.

and OAH generally, i’d argue, is not actually about cassandra trying to reconcile with rapunzel or redeem herself or be a better person, it’s… literally cass trying frantically to prove she’s NOT the bad guy. it’s “oh yeah? you think i’m a bad person? well could a bad guy do THIS? *lies and impersonates a former coworker and gets up on a stage to justify her own actions in front of a crowd*” it’s “a bad guy wouldn’t apologize, rapunzel never apologized for anything, and to prove i’m a better person I’M going to apologize! see? SEE!?”--and then everyone in corona attacks her and she goes “FINE, i’m the bad guy, fuck you all” and wrecks the place.

only then--only in plus est en vous--does cassandra get into a mindset similar to varian’s, of “i am the bad guy but if i can pull this off it will be worth it.” she’s not sorry. she still sees rapunzel as an enemy trying to get her under control again, and the only thing that’s really changed is cassandra acknowledging that she has in fact done bad things too.

and… i would argue that by the end of plus est cassandra… feels some guilt but isn’t sorry. “i’ve failed” and “i’ve done terrible things” and “i tried to prove i was more than everyone thought but they were right”--her anguish is not like varian’s anguish in RR, where he was consumed with despair because no one could possibly forgive him for the things he did. cassandra is upset because she did awful things and failed and she perceives that failure as proof of her own worthlessness. she’s right back to feeling how she felt in waiting in the wings but with a hefty new helping of self-disgust and shame for having been stupid enough to believe she could change anything for herself. 

she’s not sorry. she’s not pleading for forgiveness. she just wants rapunzel to give up and leave her alone--& then, after rapunzel convinces her that she’s wrong, and she does have worth as a person, and she does have a destiny of her own, cass does what’s necessary to clean up the crisis she created and then… just bounces. she gets the freedom she wanted and leaves without a backward glance.

(which. good for her.)

tl;dr: varian’s villain arc explores his moral scruples and what it takes for him to be willing to ignore them, whereas cassandra’s villain arc explores her incendiary reaction to a lifetime of injustices; she isn’t amoral but her sense of right and wrong is, unlike varian’s, very contextual and personal. varian is a pragmatic idealist who wants to be lawful good but is capable of setting his own morals aside in pursuit of a goal he considers to be important enough, and cassandra is one radicalizing incident away from realizing that her grievances are not a unique personal failing but a systemic problem and then leading a class uprising.

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

kisses #14 for jmart? write or draw, whichever you prefer!

For the prompt "kissing each other breathless". I ended up going for Old Guard AU yonmartin for this one, and naturally it got VERY long and plot focused, so,, apologies hflksjdfk. There are some Pahlavi and Latin words/references in this, and I've put the meanings for all of them at the bottom of the fic! :0 Hope you enjoy!!

———————————————

Yonatan doesn’t generally consider himself a pessimist, but right now, he has to admit that he’d been expecting this whole trip to go wrong.

He had voiced as much when, days ago, Martinus had first presented the idea of returning to his hometown to see the sights, but Martinus had shaken his head and promised that all would be fine, that ten years would be far enough time for his former allies to give up searching for him, and they would be able to blend in as well as anyone.

Yonatan had been skeptical, claiming that ten years might have been enough to cease a rescue, but not enough to suppress the memory of a face, especially if they came across anyone Martinus had known, and if it came to a fight, Yonatan alone would not be able to hold back a whole force of Byzantine soldiers.

“Deliciae*, they won’t be looking for me,” Martinus had argued and taken Yonatan’s hand in his own, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “You remember what we left behind. They have no reason to suspect there were survivors.”

Yonatan had squeezed his hand and frowned, glancing up at his love from where his head rested on his shoulder. “Even if that is true, you could still be recognized. People knew you.”

“We won’t stay long enough for that to happen,” Martinus had assured him; all confidence, all certainty. “Please, I want to share this with you.”

And Yonatan had said yes, because of course he had. Martinus had looked so eager, so excited to share this piece of his life with him, and Yonatan had never been able to refuse him when he glowed like that.

Now, however, he wishes that he had.

It hadn’t taken long for everything to spin wildly out of control. Ten years had in fact not been enough to dull the memory of Martinus’s old allies, and an aging man dressed in familiar armor had cried out in alarm as he turned his face upon the pair of them in the marketplace. A fellow soldier - Martinus had identified him as - who had fallen ill shortly before their battalion was sent out, stopped in his tracks to gape at Martinus, his face going slack in disbelief.

The man’s shock had turned to fury faster than Martinus could attempt to deny his own identity, and then the marketplace had been swarming with onlookers and soldiers, all straining for a look at the so-called ‘deserter’. Yonatan had held tight to his beloved’s arm through the mounting noise, but then there were rough hands pulling Martinus away from Yonatan’s grip, more and more of them appearing when he shoved them away, and Yonatan should have been able to hold them off, to push them back, away from his love, but he saw the look in Martinus’s eyes as his hand fell on the hilt of his sword, and had realized that the gathering forces would be too much for him even if he did strike, undying though he was, and he had hesitated when it mattered most. The other soldiers had gripped his arms then and wrenched him to the ground, sealing their separation, and then Yonatan had watched as his beloved was ripped away and degraded for a crime that these men had no ability to understand.

Coward, they had called Martinus with spitting voices. Traitor.

God, he can’t imagine how much it must hurt Martinus to be treated this way by those he once called friends. Yonatan’s hands had shaken with the weight of their ignorance, cast so effortlessly at a man who didn’t deserve a syllable of it, but his fury could not change the fact that Martinus had been taken, and so Yonatan found himself abandoned in the center of the marketplace, surrounded by fallen produce and pastries, utterly alone for the first time in a decade.

He is now trying not to fall into the panic of that isolation as he searches for the prison where they have dragged his beloved, asking pedestrians in the street and following the clearly defined tracks of a struggle marking the dirt roads. He tries not to look too hard at the scattered dust underfoot, tries not to imagine angry hands around his gentle wrists, cruel tongues lashing at his ears. What if they hurt him on the way there? These soldiers are known for the punishment they bestow upon their captive foes; what if they attempt to maim Martinus the same? And then… What if, in doing so, they realize his secret? What if Yonatan is wrong about where he’s been taken, and cannot find him again? What if Yonatan does find him, but he cannot free him? What if Martinus is separated from him forever; cast out to sea or buried beneath stone or locked away somewhere unreachable? Yonatan feels his heart pounding in his chest in fear and tries to get his thoughts under control.

He is a warrior, whether he likes that fact or not, and his long years of fond sparring with Martinus have only sharpened that training, so he can handle this. He will handle this, he corrects himself, as he finally catches sight of the prison where Martinus has been discarded. He is more than a soldier now; he is half of a whole, and he has no intention of letting his beloved go that easily, especially not to some pretentious, dujdaft** Byzantians.

Besides, he tries to reason with himself as he looks over the small, stone prison, it isn’t as if they’ve dragged him to Anōšbord***. The building before him is fortified, certainly, but hardly a castle, and Yonatan doubts that it counts as any sort of masterful architecture. It doesn’t look big enough to hold more than a few other prisoners anyways, so he will be fine. He will walk out with his love like always, and then they will go back to their sanctuary together. They will be safe.

Yonatan repeats this to himself for hours as he forces himself to be still, lying in wait with bouncing legs and tapping fingers until the darkness of night falls around his shoulders like a cloak, and he is able to sneak close enough to see the prison guard’s head begin to droop. Finally, he thinks, and unsheathes his sword.

Yonatan holds his breath as he slinks around the entrance to the prison and strikes the guard from behind. The man barely has time to gasp in surprise before Yonatan brings the wrapped hilt of his blade down hard against the back of his head, his knees giving out as unconsciousness quickly takes him over. Yonatan hadn’t aimed to kill; he remembers Martinus’s eyes in the marketplace when Yonatan’s hand had brushed his sword, and honestly, he can’t bring himself to feel anything but relief for the excuse to avoid any further violence. He has enough blood on his hands to last a lifetime already, and he isn’t exactly eager to dip his hands in more.

Once he’s certain the soldier is out cold, Yonatan does his best to prop him up against the wall where he had been standing, and then, carefully, nicks the keys from his pocket and slips through the front entrance into the prison.

He hadn’t expected it to be so dark, he thinks at first, noting only a few lone torches illuminating the inside of the structure, but he quickly brushes aside the concern. Even if there was no light in here at all, he would find Martinus by touch alone; by voice or by smell. He puts a hand to the wall and withdraws one of the dark torches from its position on the stones, strikes it alight, and ventures deeper into the prison.

The cells are unmarked, but there are only a few prisoners and metal doors are easy enough to see through, so Yonatan makes quick work of checking through them, not sparing a second glance to any sleeping forms he doesn’t recognize, letting his eyes slide off one person to the next until he finally catches the wide eyes of Martinus - very awake and silently waving towards him - and runs immediately to his door. The torch clatters from his hand as he falls to his knees at once, eyes locked on the face of the man he loves.

“Martinus,” he gasps out in relief, wrestling the keys from his pocket and wrenching the lock on the door open without care for silence.

“Took you long enough,” Martinus breathes as he tumbles through the door, although his eyes are shining in the torchlight, and his chest is hitching with emotion, and he is clinging onto Yonatan’s arms the moment they’re close enough to touch. Yonatan feels a smile bursting across his face and tears pricking at his eyes as he returns the touch, wrapping his arms immediately around his beloved, his partner, his grāmīg****, feeling the press of his body against his, all the softness of his chest and stomach and arms, fitting perfectly into Yonatan’s arms and heart.

“Dušāgāh wīr*****,” he mutters into Martinus’s hair, the teasing insult leaving his lips like a blessing, and then he’s pulling back from the embrace and grabbing onto Martinus’s gorgeously round cheeks and sealing their lips together firmly, the kiss all pent up worry and relief and love, always love.

Martinus makes a small noise of surprise, barely a whisper, but quickly melts into the kiss, hands coming up to cup the sides of Yonatan’s face as he kisses him again and again and again, answering Yonatan’s relief with his own.

“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Yonatan pulls back suddenly, twisting Martinus this way and that in his arms, searching for drops of blood or torn fabric or anything to indicate that an injury might have befallen his loved one’s skin in his absence.

“No, no.” Martinus shakes his head, breathless. “I— They were going to, I think, but not yet.”

“Good,” Yonatan’s voice burns in his chest, relief scorching his throat, and he draws Martinus in to kiss him again, deeper this time, and a hint almost possessive in the way his hands curl around Martinus’s shoulders and his lips capture his. Martinus holds him back just as tightly, winding his hands in his hair and rubbing over his shoulders before finally tugging him away and breaking the kiss, ignoring the disappointed frown that tugs at Yonatan’s brow.

“Okay, okay. We still have to get out of here, cara******.” He mumbles, struggling to find the stuttering breath in his lungs, still overwhelmed by the kiss of the man he’s stood beside for over a decade.

“We will,” Yonatan agrees, his heart lighter now with the familiar presence of Martinus here to accompany him, and leans in to press one final kiss to his beloved’s soft jaw before stepping away and nodding. “Together, like always.”

Martinus smiles and takes his hand, and the pair of them take their steps together, like always.

* Deliciae - Latin for “darling” ** dujdaft - Pahlavi for “ill-breathing” *** Anōšbord - Also known as the Castle, or Prison of Oblivion. This was a castle and political prison in the Sasanian Empire that held several notable members of royalty over the centuries. **** grāmīg - Pahlavi for “dear” or “treasured” ***** Dušāgāh wīr - Pahlavi for “foolish man” ****** cara - Latin for “dear”

[fireinmoonshot]

SPIDER | BUCKY BARNES x READER | PART FOUR

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE Summary: Bucky doesn’t know what to make of you when he meets you. You’re friends with Sharon, and you seem pretty easy to read on the surface. But the more time he spends with you, the more he seems to uncover, and the more he becomes tangled in the web you unwittingly weave. Pairing: female!Reader x Bucky Barnes Fandom: Marvel / The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Word Count: 2,769 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. A/N: Thank you all for the lovely response yet again! I really appreciate it. We're getting into Episode 4 now, so if you've not seen it yet make sure you don't read this chapter or you'll spoil yourself! Please let me know your thoughts, though. I really liked how this chapter turned out and I tried to make it so it didn't read like I was just writing the episode out word for word so I hope it's okay!

Zemo’s apartment was, at least, comfortable. As soon as you’d arrived Sam had settled in and gotten himself a drink and Zemo had excused himself to shower. You’d gone for a wander around the place, trying to get your bearings. It’d been a while since you’d been out of Madripoor and it felt a little like the ground had just been ripped up from underneath your feet. It was undoubtedly going to take some getting used to. Then, with what Bucky had said in the street. You were overthinking and you knew it, but he’d been right. You hated that he’d been right.

A change of clothes and freshening up in one of the bathrooms the place had done at least some of the job in helping you feel settled in, and by the time you re-enter the living room Bucky’s back, the Dora Milaje is after Zemo and the news that Karli bombed a GRC supply depot has broken.

You settle on one of the seats beside Sam with a glass of water and a heavy heart. Zemo is talking about how he personally believes Karli is a supremacist, but you can’t get your mind off of how three people had died and eleven more had been injured at the GRC supply depot bombing. You have a feeling that more people are going to end up dead if you don’t act soon, and fast.

“She will not stop,” Zemo says. “She will escalate until you kill her.”

You zone back into the conversation, taking a long sip of your drink.

“Or she kills you.”

“How unbelievably morbid of you,” you mutter.

Bucky glances at you and Sam even huffs out what you think could be a laugh.

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve,” Bucky says.

“Touché. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

You can’t disagree with him. These people – Karli, her super soldiers. You know that they’re not trying to be Steve Rogers. They’re anything but. But you also know that John Walker, where-ever he is, whoever he is, isn’t qualified for the job either.

Bucky sighs and makes to walk away from the three of you and head toward the couch, looking for a well deserved seat. “Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.”

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo replies, staring into a cabinet and not even bothering to give Bucky a glance.

“Yes.” Bucky doesn’t hesitate.

Sam rolls his eyes, clearly irritated by the both of them. He says something, you vaguely hear something about his ‘TT’, though you don’t listen to the words. Instead, you stare into your drink, swirling the water around in the cup.

It’s not the first time you wonder if you’ve made a mistake my coming along with Sam, Bucky and Zemo. It’s not like Sharon gave you a choice, but you know that you could have insisted that you not come along. But now you’re wondering even more as you sit in Zemo’s living room, listening to the three men concoct a plan without even needing to consult you. Three men – a criminal, one that doesn’t trust you and one that you just don’t understand at all. You feel out of place among them.

You push yourself up and out of your chair, leaving your water behind on the table, and head towards the hallway that’ll lead you to the room Zemo told you that you could use. Bucky watches as you go, wondering if he should call out and ask you where you’re going, though he hesitates for too long and by that time, you’re out of sight. Sam watches him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Bucky looks at him.

“You, staring at her like that. Are you in cahoots or something? I saw you talking on the street. Hell, you stopped to talk to her. What’s that about?”

Bucky scoffs. “In cahoots? Are you being serious right now?”

“Deadly.”

“Yeah, you know what else is deadly?”

“What?”

“Karli if we don’t hurry up and get some information on Donya Madani.” Bucky stands up and heads towards the bathroom. “As soon as I’m done, we’re heading out.”

Sam shakes his head and mutters “Who made you boss?” under his breath.

Bucky hears him. “I did!”

***

You’re not quite sure what you expect to find, but it’s certainly more than you’re leaving with. Bucky is standing and staring at Zemo and a group of children when you and Sam rejoin him. You’d gone upstairs with him, having decided on the journey there to at least try with him, and if he still refused to trust you, you’d give up. Or perhaps you wouldn’t. You hadn’t quite decided yet.

Bucky looks at you as you stand beside him, hands tucked firmly into the pockets of your jacket to shield them from the cool breeze. You hadn’t said much to him since he’d joined you at Zemo’s apartment after your talk on the street, and honestly he didn’t expect you to. He didn’t even really know what to say to you, so he’d figured he’d not even bother breaching the topic. If you wanted to talk about it, you would.

You stare ahead at Zemo, eyes narrowed. He’d been a little anxious about you going upstairs with Sam alone, even though he knew deep down that Sam wasn’t going to do anything, especially to Sharon’s friend.

“Someone needs to teach those children not to talk to strangers,” you mutter.

Sam snorts.

“No, seriously. If I was their age and someone that looked and acted like Zemo came up and started talking to me like that, I’d probably want to punch him and run.” You pause and then spot the Turkish delight. “On second thoughts…” You make to walk towards him, suddenly feeling rather protective over the children unknowingly speaking to a criminal like Zemo.

Before you can even make it two steps, a hand closes around your wrist and pulls you to a stop. You look back, irritated, to find Bucky shaking his head at you.

“Don’t. He’s not going to hurt them. They’re giving him information.”

“They’re children and he’s a criminal.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, tugging you back to his side and letting go of your wrist once you’re there. “And I’ll punch him in the face if I have to.”

Sam chuckles. “Don’t tempt him, or me, for that matter.”

“Now you’ve just made me want to watch him get punched in the face.”

Bucky and Sam share a look.

“I will if you will,” Sam shrugs.

Zemo finishes speaking to the children and walks back towards the three of you. “Cute kids,” he says, smiling a smile that makes your skin crawl. He walks straight past you.

“Yeah, I hate that man,” you mutter.

***

The journey back to Zemo’s apartment is quiet and uncomfortable. You feel worried for the children and are contemplating various different ways you could physically injure and maim Zemo. Whatever Sam and Bucky are thinking, you don’t know or particularly care.

What you do know is that you didn’t find what you came for

You close the door of the apartment behind you.

“Well, I got nothing,” Bucky says, heading straight to the couch. “No one’s talking about Donya.”

“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them,” Sam replies, settling down on the couch opposite Bucky. “And she’s not wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

You find a spot on the couch by Bucky and kick off your shoes so you can put your feet up. All of the travelling around was certainly taking its toll and honestly, you were beyond exhausted. If you had the time to sleep for more than a few broken hours, you’d take it. You rest your head on your arm, laying your head down on the top of the couch, and look between Sam and Bucky.

Sam sighs and elaborates. “For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doing something.”

“You really think her ends justify her means?” Bucky says. “Then, she’s no different than him,” he motions to Zemo, “or anybody else we’ve fought.”

“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.”

You find the courage to speak. “Just because she’s not motivated by the same things as Zemo or the people you’ve fought, it doesn’t mean she’s not unlike them,” you sit up a little straighter as they look at you. “I haven’t fought people like you have, but I’ve fought. I’ve seen what regular people can do with a following. Karli is different, but she’s the same, too. She’s making change, but at what cost?”

Bucky looks at you, eyes narrowed. “I like you,” he says. “You get me.”

Sam rolls his eyes and looks like he’s about to reply when Zemo comes over holding a tray with tea and several tea cups. It almost makes you laugh, the sight of him with the smallest, daintiest pieces of China, but you hold it back, knowing that all eyes in the room would fall on you if you did laugh.

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky’s amusement over you is long gone.

Zemo looks at the three of you for several moments before finally giving up the information he’d been holding hostage. “The funeral is this afternoon.”

Beside you, Bucky huffs in annoyance. “You know the Dora’s coming for you at any minute? In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.”

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.”

You watch as Bucky stands up from the couch and walks towards him. Something tells you that he’s not just standing up to talk, but before you can so much as think of anything else, Bucky grabs a tea cup and throws it against the wall behind Zemo. It shatters with a surprisingly loud crack.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?”

Both you and Sam are on your feet in seconds, stepping in-between them. You press a hand against Bucky’s shoulder and try to move him away from Zemo, but it does nothing. He doesn’t move and instead keeps shooting daggers at Zemo over your shoulder.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing,” Sam says, warning Bucky off. “Let me make a call.” He leaves the room, but not before tapping on Bucky’s other shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of it.

Zemo gets on your nerves by asking “You want some cherry blossom tea?”

“No, you go ahead.” Bucky is seething.

You push on his shoulder again and finally he steps back.

“What, you think we can afford to start fighting amongst each other now?” You ask, directing Bucky out of the living room and down the hall, figuring it’s probably for the best if he and Zemo aren’t in the same room right now. Zemo can enjoy his cherry blossom tea all on his own.

Bucky lets out a long, shaky breath. “Told you I wanted to punch him.”

“When I said I wanted to see it, I didn’t mean today.”

You tug him out of the hall and into your room, closing the door behind you. It’s the first time the two of you have been alone since the street where he’d called you out for contradicting yourself all the time. Strangely, he’s the person out of the three of them that you’re the most comfortable around, yet you also know he’s definitely the one that’s the most rash in his decision making. Hence the broken cup.

Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed and runs his hands over his hair.

“I know that helping him get out was for the best considering everything with Karli and the Flag Smashers, but I’m really regretting my decision right about now,” he admits, eyes focused firmly on the floor.

You walk over and settle down beside him on the bed.

“He has his uses, but just because he’s useful doesn’t mean he’s any less of an ass.”

He laughs briefly and the sound makes you smile.

“We all have regrets, okay?” You continue. “I have plenty of them, you have them, Sam has them, I bet even Zemo has some. Buried deep down. I try not to focus on mine. Maybe you should try the same with the Zemo thing.”

Bucky lifts his head and looks at you. “Yeah, it’s that easy, is it?”

For some reason, you want him to trust you even more now. Having felt disconnected from them all day, but also having felt the thrill when one of them laughs at your joke, or even Bucky just telling you that he likes you… the part of you that wants trust wins out, so you decide to tell Bucky one of your regrets.

“I regret leaving Madripoor and Sharon,” you admit. “She’s the only home I’ve known for the longest time. Madripoor – however messed up it is there – felt like some kind of home because of her. It’s the first time we’ve been apart since the blip, I suppose. Part of me wishes I was still there with her. But the other part of me focuses on the fact that she thinks I’m of more use here, with you guys. So I’m trying to be of use to you guys. I’m trying not to shut myself off. I’m pushing down my regret in favour of trying to be helpful.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Well, I haven’t contradicted myself yet, have I?”

Bucky smiles properly for the first time since you’ve met him.

“And listen, if it makes you feel any better, you entirely have my permission to punch Zemo before we finish all of this. I don’t know Sam well, but I have a feeling he’d be on board, too.”

He chuckles and leans back until he’s laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I meant what I said in there before,” he points in the direction of the living room. “That I like you. That you get me. I don’t know how, but you do.” He looks up at you, sitting up and watching him. “You’re making it annoyingly easy for me to trust you right now, you know that? I feel like I shouldn’t trust you because of the contradictions you make about yourself. But now you’re sitting here, being open and honest with me. Making sure I don’t punch people. And now I feel like I could trust you.”

You’re smiling. “Maybe that was all part of my grand plan.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m joking. It was a joke,” you huff out a laugh. “Learn to take a joke, James.”

He pushes himself up, sitting straight again. “James?”

“That’s your name, is it not? Or do you not like being called James?”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.” He blinks. Lets your words settle with him for a moment.  “Bucky, James. I don’t care what you call me. Unless it’s offensive.”

“Well, you’re safe there,” you laugh. “I’m not mad at you, by the way. About what you said earlier. You were right. I do contradict myself, and I do it to protect myself.”

Bucky frowns. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me.”

“Then I’ll try not to,” you say honestly. “Now, have you cooled off enough to go back and see who Sam was calling, or do you wanna stay here for a few more minutes?”

Bucky thinks over your question for a few moments, thinking ever so briefly about staying here with you for a little bit longer simply because he thinks he likes being around you, before nodding. “I think I’m good.”

You nod and stand up, intending to head to the door, but Bucky reaches out a hand to stop you. He means to grab your wrist, but unintentionally ends up grabbing your hand. You whirl, eyes a little wider than you realise, and look at him.

He doesn’t let go.

“Thank you,” he says. “For getting me out of there. For calming me down.”

You smile. “Anytime, Bucky.”

***

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[sxfik]

Why is hanseok considered the greater evil, and vincenzo the lesser evil?? I genuinely dont understand, can you explain it to me please??

hiii thank you so much for sending me an ask!! i'm not going to lie, i saw this ask a long while ago when you originally sent it but it took me a long while to answer it because i really had to think about it and also it's kind of a hard question for me to answer. but, i will attempt my best to kinda give my thoughts on why we consider vincenzo as the "lesser evil."

first, i need to say that both vincenzo nor han seok are good people and i am not saying that either of them are good people. i am simply comparing their evil levels and explaining why we as viewers often find vincenzo to be the lesser evil than han seok.

second, we need to define what evil means in this context (which is kinda hard because it depends on each person's perception but aaa) if we're considering someone evil for purely their actions, excluding motivations, then both vincenzo and han seok are the same level of evil. han seok brutally murders, and psychologically and physically abuses people. vincenzo's actions (aka setting people on fire, abusing and murdering people, torturing people, etc.) also makes him evil.

BUT if you define evil through motivation, then vincenzo and han seok are still evil but not on the same level of evil. yes, both characters commit bad actions but their motivations are different. vincenzo kills only when given a reason to. for example, we know that a robber killed his foster parents so when he joined the mafia he both psychologically and physically tortured him for almost a year (now whether the method of killing is a justifiable or an equal punishment for the crime is an entirely different question and i just won't be able to answer that because it's just so hard and complex of a question.) he sets the warehouse on fire to get revenge on behalf of the victims of the drug produced in said factory. he kills the two people who killed cha young's father and he kills the people who set up the family of the dead researchers to look like a suicide. he only kills or tortures people who have done a wrong against him or the people he cares about.

on the other hand, han seok kills and tortures for his own amusement and gain. he kills the prosecutor with the hockey stick because he didn't get his way and they annoyed him. he allows and gives the resources to choi myung hee to kill or maim anyone that gets in the way of his plans. han seok murdered his classmates for no reason other than he didn't get what he wanted. and most of all, he tortured and abused han seo just for his amusement. han seo was his punching bag, where he would belittle and abuse him in order for han seok to get his anger out. he does bad actions without a given or justifiable reason. he would play with han seo and keep him on the edge at all times, because he got a power rush from it. so when you compare vincenzo and han seok's motivations for their actions, i don't think you can say that vincenzo is the same level of evil as han seok.

we also don't see vincenzo attacking someone beloved to the person who has done wrong in order to get revenge. for example, in order to hurt vincenzo, han seok kills vin's mother, who has not done anything wrong this situation. but with vincenzo, we never see that happening. even though we see vincenzo hanging out with prosecutor jung's family after he betrays them, there's not a moment that he actively threatens or attacks prosecutor jung's family. he doesn't threaten prosecutor jung or tell him he will kill his family because in his mind, it's not justifiable to take the life on another person who hasn't done wrongdoing in order to hurt the person who has. for han seok this is not true, he has killed or attacked innocent people to make his enemy hurt.

another reason we are bound to consider vincenzo 'a lesser evil' is because of remorse. despite vincenzo's motivations or actions, he displays remorse and regret for the killing he has done. han seok, on the other hand, does not. Vincenzo is haunted by the killings he has done, by the blood he has spilled and we don't ever see that ending even when he gains a family and gains love. even if he can justify his actions, he is still regretful of what he had to do. han seok does not show the same remorse as him, only feeling bad when it is his life that's under threat in the very last scene. not to mention that he brags about killing, he gets power and happiness from his killings both when he killed his classmates as well as when he killed the prosecutor. han seok takes pleasure in his actions, as he is shown dancing and being gleeful as he kills vincenzo's mother and many others. he has no regret or shame in what he has done.

in so many law and crime shows we see a "morally" good hero who "spares" the villain in the end because it is the "right thing to do" despite a) killing all their side minions that helped the villain and b) all of the villains evil actions and harm they have caused the victims. we, as viewers, often aren't satisfied at the end because we're not seeing the punishment match up to the crime. this show's main thesis is showing that han seok is so evil that no law or justice system can properly punish him for the pain and abuse he has inflicted on his victims AND because this system that is supposed to punish him is just as cruel and corrupt as he is. it's highlighting the injustice to the victims of babel as a corporation, victims of the justice and law system and victims of han seok himself. vincenzo is showing that he is the best punishment for han seok because vincenzo is a mirror to him and han seok in the end is getting a taste of his own medicine.

all of this is why that last monologue of the show is important. we, as viewers, are watching a show that frames vincenzo as the main protagonist. his actions and him are framed in a way to make us root for him, with the music and the cinematography. but we're also given small reminders of who he actually is throughout the show: through the nightmares he faces, through mr. tak telling him not to change into a lighter person, through the scene where he faces han seok in jail. and finally, that ending monologue is showing that no, he is still a bad person. he is still an evil person who is committing bad actions and us rooting for him to punish the villains in this show does not change the badness of his actions. really, that last line in vincenzo is making us question whether his actions are justifiable and can we actually root for him.

feel free to disagree with me or start a conversation below because i feel like this is a really interesting question but the answer to this changes based on each person's perception of morality and what constitutes a good person and a bad person. i feel like this is such a deep question and there's so many ways and angles that you can look at this from so i don't think i've done a great job in explaining everything but this was just what i came up with for today. there's also every chance that my line of reasoning or logic is flawed so i'm open to any criticisms to this so i can acknowledge and correct it!

(also if you want a good kdrama that asks these same questions and has that same energy as vincenzo then please watch taxi driver! it’s a great show and it really makes you think about the earlier questions of “does the punishment given out by vigilante justice match the crime committed by these people? to what extent is vigilante justice justifiable? where does the law draw the line between giving the victims of brutal crime justice vs protecting the criminal from cruel and unusual punishments?”)

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 25: Hiraeth

Hiraeth (Welch): A kind of homesickness which is a combination of the homesickness, longing, nostalgia, and yearning, for a home that you cannot return to, no longer exists, or maybe never was.

Harry hated cleaning Grimmauld. And it always seemed that no matter how much cleaning he did, more junk (half of it cursed) appeared to replace it.

He forced himself to set aside two hours every Saturday morning, someday this house would be worth living in and having guests in.

This particular morning, Harry was working in the hideous study, cleaning out the desk and thinking that he really ought to tear out the carpet and take down the wall paper, when he accidentally knocked over a small bust of Merlin only knew which Black. A heartbeat after the bust was knocked over, a panel on the wall scraped open.

That was interesting.

With a bit of caution, which was warranted given how many things had attempted to kill and maim him in this house, Harry made his way over and peeked inside of what appeared to be a cupboard of some sort. Inside was a pensive with a shelf above with memories floating in vials. Many weren't labeled at all but there were some that were labeled in Sirius' familiar script.

One sitting right in the front, as though it had been placed there for him, was labeled Harry. There were several memories swirling together in this one and Harry found himself reaching out and pouring it into the pensive without really thinking about it.

A moment later he plunged his head into the pensive.

He looked around when he landed and saw that he was standing in his parents' home in Godric's Hollow. His mum was sitting on the couch with her feet propped on the coffee table rubbing at the side of her very pregnant belly.

Sirius was knelt on the floor next to her, rubbing his hand over the other side, "And I am going to be your favorite uncle," he promised. "I'm the cool one, I'll teach you how to ride my motorbike and help you with your boy trouble."

"His boy trouble?" his mum asked, obviously amused.

"Well, I can't very well help him with his girl trouble."

(Read more below the cut)

His mum laughed and brushed her fingers through Sirius' hair. "I suppose you're right about that.

"He's kicking," Sirius crowed, rubbing his thumb over his mum's belly. "Hi, Harry," he said. "It's your uncle Padfoot," he informed him, leaning closer and putting his mouth almost against her belly, "I love you and I cannot wait to meet you."

--------

The scene faded and was replaced by the next one.

"He's perfect, Prongs," Sirius murmured and Harry saw that he was standing in a hospital room. His mum was sitting up in a bed, looking tired but smiling so wide that Harry's mouth ached in sympathy. Sirius and his dad were standing close together, a baby held securely in Sirius' arms and his dad hovering near his head.

"Yeah," his dad whispered in reply, sounding genuinely choked up as he brushed his fingers over the baby's downy head.

"Look at his tiny fingers," Sirius said. "He's got your eyes, Lily," he added.

Harry watched as the baby wrapped Sirius forefinger in his little fist.

"Oh Godric," he murmured. "I'm gone on him," he said, looking up at James and Lily. "I love him more than life itself."

"We feel the same," his mum replied, smiling. "James, you should tell him."

His dad covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head as though he couldn't manage any words.

"Tell me what?"

"We want you to be Harry's Godfather," his mum said.

"Really?" Sirius whispered looking back and forth at his mum and dad like he could hardly believe they were serious.

"Yeah," his dad said, patting his shoulder, "Yeah, of course."

Sirius looked down at the baby in his arms and Harry watched a tear track down his cheek, "You hear that, Harry?" he murmured. "I'm your Godfather. I'll never let anything bad happen to you," he promised.

-------

Godric's Hollow came back into view and Sirius was sitting on the couch, his arm around Remus' shoulders while Remus fed Harry a bottle.

"You're just a little angel, aren't you?" Remus cooed at him. "Just the most perfect, beautiful baby anyone has ever seen."

The baby kicked his feet.

"We'll teach you how to get up to mischief," Sirius promised. "Don't you worry. You'll get to inherit everything we've learned, you're going to make the best prankster imaginable."

Remus huffed, "But you'll be good to Minerva, won't you? She had more than enough trouble with your dad and uncles."

The baby finished the bottle and Remus sat him up, holding him over his shoulder as he lightly patted the baby's back. "I know things are a little scary right now," Remus murmured and Harry for the first time wondered where his parents were, if they were on a mission for the order at the moment, "But everything's going to be okay. You'll see."

Sirius rubbed Remus' neck soothingly, "Everything's going to be okay," he repeated but his face looked as weary and worn as Remus' did.

--------

"Come on, Harry! You can do it!" Sirius cheered and Harry shaded his eyes to see the back garden better. Sirius was squatted a few feet away from his dad who was steadying the baby as he apparently thought about walking. "Come on," Sirius said again, holding out his arms.

With a little giggle, the baby started to toddle unsteadily across the distance to Sirius. Sirius caught him and scooped him up in his arms, swinging him as he stood before pulling him in to smother him with kisses.

The baby giggled and grabbed at Sirius sunglasses, pulling them off his face.

"Ah, here, allow me," Sirius said, as he put them on the baby instead with a big smile. "Already developing better taste than your dad, I see."

"Oy," his dad called from where he stood with his arm around his mum's waist, stealing her glass of iced tea.

"I can't believe how big you've grown," Sirius murmured.

"Us either," his mum replied. "It's all gone so quickly. At this rate we'll be watching him head off to Hogwarts tomorrow."

"We'll all be there," Sirius promised, pressing a kiss to the baby's chubby cheek.

--------

The baby was a bit older in the next memory, and Harry knew there wasn't much longer left before the inevitable.

"I don't know how to do this," Sirius said, he was holding the baby in his arms, swaying back and forth, and Harry could hear the unshed tears in his voice.

"Be our secret keeper," his dad insisted. "Sirius we trust you with our lives, we trust you more than anyone."

"I can't," he said, shaking his head. "Dumbledore said it himself, they'll know it's me."

"Then stay here," Lily pleaded. "Just stay with us. Help us keep Harry safe."

"I would," Sirius said, "You know I would if I could. The Order won't allow it, they need more people to be able to go out on missions."

His dad nodded, scuffing the toe of his trainer over the carpet and it struck Harry how young they were. Harry was older now than his parents had lived to be.

"How am I supposed to say goodbye?" Sirius asked, pressing his forehead into the baby's dark curls.

"It's not goodbye," his mum said fiercely. "We can't think like that. It's just for a little while. It's just a see you later."

Sirius nodded and pressed a long kiss to the baby's forehead, "See you later, love," he murmured. "I'll miss you every second."

------------

Harry was snapped out of the pensive and he stood still for a long moment, in what must have been shock, before he realized that he was crying. It took another second to realize that his entire body was shaking as he was overcome with a sense of grief that he thought he'd long since buried.

He was overwhelmed by the longing to have a home, to have a place where people loved him and cared about him, a home were people wanted to protect him and be sure he was safe. It was a longing that he'd felt from the core of his being for as long as he could remember. And in these memories he'd had that.

He'd had so many people who loved him, so many people desperate to keep him safe, desperate to watch him grow up, and he'd lost it before he'd ever really known it.

The injustice, the hurt, the loneliness, and every moment that he'd ever desperately wished to be loved welled up inside of him at once and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. It was like he was being pounded by waves in the ocean and he could make it up for air.

Harry couldn't stay here, he pulled out his wand and apparated.

He'd intended to go to Ron and Hermione's, or maybe even the Weasley's but that was not where he ended up. No, Harry ended up in the front yard at his auror partner's house, sobbing and gasping for air.

"What the-" he heard and looked over to see that Draco was out working in his Garden, "Potter? What-" he started as he got closer. "Are you alright?"

Harry shook his head but couldn't manage to get any words out.

"Are you hurt?"

He shook his head again, "I didn't mean-"

"Alright," Draco said softly, wrapping a protective arm around him before Harry could even finish his sentence, "Come on. Come inside."

Harry could only nod, trying to make his feet move in spite of their numbness.

"You're shaking," Draco murmured as he guided him inside of the cozy cottage, all full of sunlight and fresh air. "You're sure you're not hurt?"

"Yes," Harry whispered, voice still raw.

Draco nodded, "Let's have some tea, yes?" he asked, guiding Harry into the sunny yellow kitchen. "Here," he said, pulling out a chair and settling Harry into it before moving to prepare tea.

Harry took the few moments of relative privacy to try to get himself under control, to try to reign in all of the feelings. He was certain that he would feel embarrassed about this later; this wasn't a great look for someone you were a little bit in love with to see.

By the time Draco turned around and brought the mugs of tea over, his breathing had even out a bit and he wasn't sobbing anymore. Draco set a cup of tea in front of him, "Here you go," he murmured before sitting down in the chair next to Harry instead of across from him.

"Thank you," Harry managed as he took a sip of tea made just the way that he liked it.

"Don't mention it," he said, he reached over and rubbed soothing circles on the center of Harry's back as Harry drank his tea. He didn't push or ask any questions, he was just quiet, just there with him as Harry's heart slowly came down to a normal pace and he finally managed to stop crying. "There we are," he said.

"Sorry," Harry whispered, feeling embarrassed and foolish and raw. "I didn't even mean to come here," he confessed.

"Well, I'm glad you did," Draco told him and for some reason, Harry believed him. "I've got some ginger biscuits in, if you'd like?"

"I shouldn't impose-"

"It's no imposition," Draco said, standing up and reaching for the cookie jar. He set them out, offering it to Harry before taking a couple himself.

Harry nibbled at his biscuit, not really sure what to say.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Draco asked. "You don't have to, of course, but I can be quite a good listener."

They'd been partners for three years at this point, so Harry knew it was true that the other man was an excellent listener. After a moment debating where to start, Harry confessed, "I always felt like there was something wrong with me." He stared down at the biscuit in his hands for a moment, "When I was little," he swallowed and set down his half eaten biscuit. "My aunt and uncle didn't want me and they weren't shy about letting me know."

Draco frowned, "Then why did you live with them? Surely there were no shortage of wizarding families who-"

"I had to," Harry said. "In her death, my mother's magic protected me. It's why Voldemort couldn't kill me. Because my aunt Petunia shared my mother's blood, as long as I lived with them I was protected."

"Alright," Draco said, nodding once and apparently accepting that answer without any other questions, which Harry was grateful for.

"They didn't want me and they didn't love me," Harry continued, "and I just really wanted to be loved, you know?"

Draco nodded, "Yeah, of course," he said as though Harry was being totally reasonable right now.

"I always imagined that I'd had parents who loved me," he said. "Like I always imagined that Lily and James Potter were completely besotted with me; they literally died trying to protect me. And I've had it confirmed by people throughout my life in a casual sort of way."

Draco nodded again, "But you've just had it confirmed in a more tangible way?" he guessed.

Harry nodded and felt a tear slip down his cheek. "I found some of Sirius memories when I was cleaning today," he said.

"That's fascinating," Draco replied.

"Yes," Harry agreed, "And there was a vial with my name on it, so I poured them into the pensive and took a look." Draco waited patiently as Harry tried to calm himself enough to get the next words out. "They were all of me as a baby," he finally managed in a whisper. "Of him with me, of my mum and dad, and Remus. And they all-" he choked on the words. He could hardly get them out, "They all loved me so much," he managed.

Draco took his hand.

"And I can't even remember-" he couldn't manage another word before the waves of grief rolled through his soul once more.

"Oh, love," Draco murmured as he stood and moved to wrap his arms around Harry, holding him and letting him cry against his stomach.

"It's not fair," Harry finally managed.

"No, it's not," Draco agreed, one of his hands stroking through Harry's hair. "It's not fair at all."

When Harry finally got himself under control once more, Draco drew back and sat down in the chair beside him.

"Sorry," Harry said, feeling miserable, and drained, and exhausted.

"You've nothing to apologize for," Draco said as he took another biscuit.

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, "I just thought that I'd stopped grieving this."

"Do we ever really stop grieving the people we love?"

"It's not just the people, though," Harry said, shaking his head. "It's that I had a home, I had a place where people loved me and cared about me. If I'd fallen and scraped a knee in that home, I would have had adults clambering over themselves to fix it. I would have been tucked in at night, and someone would have read me stories. I would have always had enough to eat and I would have had clothes that fit me and toys that weren't broken. There are a million things that could have been that I'll never know."

"I'm sorry," Draco said softly, "I can't imagine what that must feel like." He put his hand over Harry's, his thumb rubbing soothingly over Harry's knuckles.

Harry nodded once, trying very hard not to start crying again because three times felt like it might be a bit ridiculous for one day.

"There are people who love you now, though," Draco said gently. "And I know it doesn't change the past, and it doesn't make this hurt any less, but you have people who love you. And I'm sure that someday, you'll live with someone who loves you, someone who wants to protect you and comfort you when you're hurt, someone who wants to share their life with you."

Harry scoffed, "I have my friends but there's no one who would want that with me."

"There are loads of people who would want that with you," Draco said, rolling his eyes as if Harry was being ridiculous.

"Not people who actually know me," Harry argued. "Sure, there are people who want me because I'm Harry Potter but no one who wants me because I'm just Harry."

"That's not true," Draco replied.

"Name one person who wants that life with me because I'm just Harry and not the savior," he challenged. "One, single person and I will go out right now and move in with them. Tell me one name of someone who would want this," he said, gesturing at himself, "Who wants all of this mess, all of this baggage, and traum-"

"Me," Draco finally exploded. "I want that with you. I want to protect you and comfort you when you're hurt. I want to make you tea in the evening before bed and I want you to wake me up with coffee in the morning. I want to spend every moment with you, celebrating your successes and weeping with you about what makes you sad. I want that."

Harry blinked at him, a bit (alright, a lot) shocked.

"And I know that it's stupid and you don't want that with me, because, well," he shook his head. "There are a million reasons you shouldn't, but you said one person and I want you to know that it's more than possible for someone to know you and want that with you."

"You do?" Harry asked.

"Do you think I would have told you that I did if I didn't?"

Harry felt a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "I would like that with you, too."

"What?"

Harry shrugged one shoulder, "I've been a little in love with you for like a year," he confessed, feeling brave now that Draco had already told him how he felt.

Draco smiled a shy little smile at him, "Maybe we should go on a few dates before you move in, for appearance's sake," he joked.

He laughed, but then actually considered it, "Do you care about appearance's sake? We already know that we work together, we already know that we're good at spending time together," Harry replied. "I know more about you than I've ever known about anyone I've dated."

"Do you really want to move in with me? Already?"

Harry shrugged, "I mean, you've got a second bedroom, right? We wouldn't have to rush into anything. Just," he swallowed and he reached over and took Draco's hand, "Wouldn't it be nice to come home at night to someone who cares about you?"

"Yeah," the other man agreed with a smile, "Yes it would."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, feeling hopeful.

He nodded, "Yes, of course. Merlin, of course you can move in," he said with a laugh.

"I'd like very much to kiss you if you'd be amenable to that," Harry said.

"I'd like that, too," Draco said, with a breathless little smile.

Harry leaned across the corner of the table, cupped Draco's cheek in his palm, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

When he pulled back Draco's eyes were still closed and he murmured, "I'm going to need you to do that again."

Harry grinned and obliged him.

"Again," Draco breathed.

Harry leaned in and took Draco's bottom lip between his, sucking lightly before brushing his tongue over it. Draco let out a soft sigh and his fingers clenched in the fabric of Harry's t-shirt.

"Again," Draco whispered when Harry pulled back.

He smiled and let his finger's slide in Draco's hair, tilting his head slightly as he slotted their lips together. He slowly explored Draco's mouth and Draco explored his in turn, they kissed slowly, luxuriously. Hands brushed over necks, cheeks, shoulders, and backs as they carefully learned their way around each other.

Draco was the first to pull back this time and Harry's eyes fluttered open to look at him, his cheeks flushed and lips red. "You are so beautiful," Harry murmured.

He looked down at the table, smiling shyly, "We should start getting you moved in."

"I'd like nothing better," Harry replied with a big smile of his own.

And while moving in with Draco didn't give him back the home he'd lost, it did give him a place where he belonged. It gave him a place where he could receive the love he'd longed for and give all of the love he'd always wanted to. It wasn't perfect and it wasn't always easy, but it was home and Harry wouldn't have traded it for anything.

-------------

Thank you, @iamactuallya-cat for the prompt! I hope you enjoy it and that I didn't break your heart too much! <3

Day 24: Mafia Husband | Day 26: Broken Bone

[sullustangin]

Darth Marr and Satele Shan:  Names and Priorities

I’ve reached the point in my Yavin fic that I’m starting to use Marr’s POV on occasion.  One of the things I’ve been chewing on (likely to the annoyance of others) has been the Marr-Satele-Theron dynamic during the Yavin 4 op.  It’s clear that Satele and Marr have put aside differences and have become friends (as much as a Force ghost and a self-exiled Jedi Master can be friends) by Chapter 12 of KotFE. 

I give credit to @swtorpadawan for posting about Satele on Yavin 4 a few months ago and being willing to have continued discourse about the post -- thank you.  In comments and reblogs, there’s been discussion about how to interpret Satele’s references to Theron during the op and her motivations for why she does this. 

This is a spin-off of that post, since I’ll be focusing more on the dynamic between Marr and the Shans instead of Theron and Satele. 

During the Yavin op, Theron is consistently referred to as Theron, not as Agent Shan or as Shan.  The issue of his last name is avoided.   A few people (including me) have the headcanon that ‘Shan’ is a common name in the galaxy, like Smith or Patel or Garcia would be on our world; two people named Shan does not a family connection make, necessarily.  It would explain why Theron doesn’t have a code name (though he jokingly? complains about it on first meeting). 

And yet, Satele avoids using the name in reference to Theron.  So does Marr.  And Theron doesn’t insist on being referred to by his last name, even though his peer, Lana Beniko, is referred to as ‘Beniko’ by Marr. (Satele never addresses Lana using her name.)

Why the dance? 

Honestly, when I try to reverse-engineer dev!logic, in terms of the game design for Yavin 4, I’d guess it was done to help the player differentiate between Grand Master Shan and Agent Shan.  And maybe that’s all it is: calling Theron “Theron” just keeps the player from getting confused, especially if the player isn’t a Jedi and doesn’t know Satele; and/or skipped the Forged Alliances quests and thus doesn’t know Theron.

Within the universe, however, what’s an explanation a player can come up with?

The Spies in Question

Theron’s name was broadcast across the galaxy as a wanted man for killing Colonel Darok.  He was to be apprehended on sight, but Theron was a spy; spy agencies to this day rarely let any images of their active duty agents be circulated, even if they do go rogue or defect to the other side.  Theron’s image in direct connection to his name and job as SIS agent would be on a need-to-know basis.  This has led me to headcanon that Director Trant was well-aware of Theron going off the grid; in fact, he aided and abetted it.

Lana, on the other hand, was a known member of the Sphere of Military Offense.  She commanded troops on Hoth.  She had a known face, and there was an Imperial bounty contract on her head, per Theron at Manaan.  If anything, Lana was in as much danger as Jakarro; someone could try to claim the bounty on her head, since the bounties weren’t lifted til the end of the Yavin op.

And yet, Theron’s name was the unspeakable one. 

Satele and Theron

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I feel that the dynamic between Theron and Satele is not that of son and mother; both of them have gotten past that decision.  Rather, it’s more similar to a child who was given up for adoption looking for some sort of acknowledgement from his birth family -- it’s not love.  It’s not approval.  It’s.... complicated.  Acknowledgement of existence.  Acknowledgement that the decision had impact on Theron well beyond his first year of life.  Acknowledgement that Satele hurt Jace. 

I’ve interpreted Theron’s bristling at the use of the term “my agent” to be more directed at the possessiveness of the word, yet how far apart they still are, despite the biological connections.  Technically, Yavin 4 was the first time they worked on an op together.  This was their first professional collaboration.  They haven’t seen each other socially, they can’t talk about their issues/relationship/whatever.....and they have to save the galaxy together.

Giving up Theron doesn’t mean Satele felt nothing. She privately struggles with what she did and how it turned out -- still does, based on 6.2.   However, she, like Jace and Theron, believe in serving the cause at great personal cost.  Seeing Theron beat to hell after Rishi bothered her -- it would bother anyone with any sense of compassion (which she does have).  Theron got the beatdown he did because he was taken by the Revanites.  Revan attempted to convince Theron to join him on Yavin 4 by invoking the idea that they are flesh and blood -- family.

Pretty sure Revan wasn’t talking about the Malcom side.  Satele knew that.  Was there a sense of protectiveness for Theron because of what happened immediately before Yavin 4?  I think so, yes, but it’s not motherly.

Theron’s experience on Rishi probably made Satele hyperaware that if Theron was of interest to the Revanites, then the Empire would doubly interested in Theron if they knew that he was not only an heir of Revan, but that the Grand Master of the Jedi Order was his biological mother.   Referring to him as “my agent” may be Satele’s way to avoid using any part of his name on Yavin 4.

I’m willing to bet, regardless of any efforts to ignore or conceal Theron’s name, that Marr quickly figured out that the agent who managed to outfox Revan, resist torture, get Marr’s attention, and unravel an intergalactic conspiracy was something special to the Republic.  Odds were that this agent had acted against the Empire.

Marr would be interested.

The History of Darth Marr and Satele Shan

Prior to Yavin 4, Marr and Satele had most recently squabbled over Makeb in the Hutt Cartel expansion through their various operatives.  When Marr saw Satele on the Imp side Battle of Rishi, he bowed.  He respected her and she respected him.  I didn’t get any other impression from their interactions. They saw each other as equals, though on rival sides; that creates tension, since a fight between them would be a draw or mutually assured destruction.  It’s highly likely they fought against each other in the previous Galactic War (which I’ll talk about below). 

Marr was born in 3702 BBY, Satele in 3699 BBY.  They’re about the same age, and they ascended almost equally quickly when the Sith returned in 3681 -- Satele is 18, Marr is 21.  I have spoken about how Satele and Jace (who seems to be somewhere between 16 and 20 in the trailer) were essentially just kids when the conflict started.  So was Marr.

The big difference, in terms of how their characters are constructed, is that we have the end product of Marr.  Period.  We don’t know what his name was before he took on the name ‘Darth Marr.’  We know nothing about his family, his relationships, his struggles.  As Marr said later to the player in KotFE, he wanted to be a symbol to the Empire.  Marr did not let himself be just a man.

Darth Marr is not the singular leader of the Sith.  Marr is the head of the Sphere of Defense of the Empire for decades, and as of the Battle of Corellia and the death of Darth Decimus, he also becomes the head of the Sphere of Military Strategy.  With 2 of Military Spheres in his grasp, Marr was the de facto leader of the armed forces of the Sith Empire.  The Sphere of Military Offense passed from Baras to Arho and then to Arkous after Ilum.  When Arkous is killed by the player’s character, there is no indication as to who was the next head; that Sphere is never spoken of again in-game.  We may assume Marr took hold of that.  Either way, he has become the de facto leader of the Sith Empire.  His voice, his robes and mask -- immediately recognizable to the whole galaxy.

The creators of content for SWTOR took the opposite approach to Satele. We can read about how her mother Tasiele was forced into exile when Satele was still a child.  We meet Satele at 18 in a SWTOR trailer during the first Sith incursion at Korriban.  We see her in comics fighting against the Empire.  We see her at the Battle of Alderaan against Malgus.  In Annihilation,we see bits and pieces of her falling in love with Jace Malcom and hoping she doesn’t get too attached... until a pair of permanent complications occur in 3667 BBY:   Jace was severely maimed in the Battle of Alderaan, and Satele got pregnant.  Jace’s injuries made him a much harder person than the soldier Satele met in 3681 BBY; he scared her with his hatred of the Empire. 

I’ll take a moment here to say that Satele wasn’t dumb or naive when she made the decision about Theron.  Satele was at least 32 years old, possibly 33 by the time Theron was born in 3666 BBY. She wasn’t a teen having a knee-jerk “oh noes, he’s evil” moment.  She had been in a constant state of war for 15 years when she got pregnant.   It’s in that context that Satele was concerned that Jace’s hatred could drag their child to the Dark Side... but also, Satele’s love for her child would make it impossible for her to serve the Republic without a second thought.  She couldn’t fight and die for the Republic if she was always preoccupied with coming home to her baby.

So she let Theron go.  She had other adventures.  She was at the Treaty of Coruscant.  Satele founded Tython.  She became the Grand Master of her order.

We don’t get any of that pathos or glory with Marr.   Marr IS.  Marr is the Empire. He is the best of them.  He has been, is, and will be. 

The odds are pretty good that Marr and Satele met each other in combat, directly or indirectly. The bow on Imp side Rishi is a big thing for me that points to that.  Also, look at their responsibilities during the last war.  Marr was responsible for not only defending Korriban and what would become the Imperial core, but also any gains the Sith made over time against the Republic.  That’s the job of the Sphere of Defense of the Empire; taking planets was somebody else’s rodeo, not Marr’s.  His job was to defend... something the Imperial people living on these planets would love him for.  He was their protector against brutish Republic troops and their systemic corruption. 

Satele was responsible for winning those territories back; we see her on counter-strikes against the Sith.  Satele is cast as the liberator of people imperiled by the spreading Sith Empire, not a conqueror taking new territory.  Marr probably had to defend against Satele at least once in their careers, possibly multiple times.  If she was absent from the front lines for any period of time, Marr would have noticed; he had to anticipate the next move of Republic counterstrikes as part of his job. 

And indeed, Satele was absent for an extended period.  How long Satele was absent from the battlefield due to her pregnancy, we don’t know. Satele did continue her battlefield duties for “months” after she found out.  The only information we have about post-partum Satele is that she stopped visiting Baby Theron at 6 months old, according to Lost Suns.  I don’t think she could just skip off at random while in command, so I think she probably was off the battlefield at least 10 months (last 4 months of her pregnancy, 6 months post-partum), possibly as long as 18 months, since Gnost-Dural reports she was assigned to duty with the Republic Navy at some point in 3665 BBY.  She did give birth on a random planet in a cave, so she didn’t exactly have the best medical care immediately.  Maybe there were complications. Maybe she did show early. We don’t know.

Regardless of the timeline, Marr would have been paying attention.  Marr would have noticed when Satele Shan stopped fighting for the Republic.  Where was she?  What was she doing?  Was this part of a greater plot by the Republic?  What were they planning?  And when Satele did return, he may well have wondered what she had been up to.  But no matter; she had returned.  Marr had to be ready.

There’s no obvious indication in the game as to when Marr figures out Satele and Theron are mother and son.  He makes no comment to indicate that he knew before Rishi.  Based on Marr’s dialogue in game on the Imperial side, he heavily suggests that he knows who Theron is by the time Iven, the former commandant of the Imperial Guard, is taken into custody and it’s time to interrogate him. Satele objects to Marr’s plans to torture Iven.  “And what do you think your agent has done in the Republic’s name?” is Marr’s response. 

The delivery of ‘your agent’ is indicative that Marr knows.

Theron himself stated at the end of the Imp side romance that if he was indeed recruited by the player to join the Empire, people would be suspicious that he’d be working for his mother.  That would have to include Darth Marr. 

Personally, I would guess that the after-action reports from Lana and Theron would have some clues for Marr.  However, once Theron had healed up from the Rishi events, Marr may well have taken one look at Theron standing next to Satele, and then had an epiphany so immense it gave him a headache that Lana felt across the compound.  There’s the answer.  That’s why she disappeared for almost two years, twenty-nine years ago. Theron Shan.

(According to Jace in Annihilation, Theron has some similar features to his mother. He doesn’t specify which ones.)

The Lie of Omission

A lie of omission is permitting an inaccuracy or a falsehood to continue to circulate without correction, even though the person knows the truth. (In contrast, a lie of commission is when you actively make something up or contribute to the lie -- you commit the act lying.)  Marr signals he knows who Theron is by the time Iven is retrieved from the Imperial Guard training facility on Yavin, but he never says the name Theron Shan out loud.   It’s simply “the agent” “your agent” or “Theron.”  But not Agent Shan.

The use of “Theron” in the Pubside story is most eyebrow-raising.  

Marr calls people by their titles. Marr always keeps professional distance.  Underlings are uniformly referred to by their titles.  Lana doesn’t like titles, so Marr doesn’t refer to her as Lord Beniko or Darth whatever;  it’s just Beniko.

Calling someone by their first name is highly irregular.  He does not refer to Satele as such until 6.2 (and that might be the Socratic Problem of Marr in the player’s memory rather than the real Marr).  It’s always Grand Master or Grand Master Shan. In a unique instance in the game, Marr calls Theron by his given name when he finds the Imperial Guard’s buildings in ruins during the Pubside story:  “But given the destruction Theron describes, it’s mostly likely a distress call.”  This is before the Pub operative annoys Marr by going to the Imperial Guard facility by themselves; it’s not said in anger or in irritation.  It’s said under ‘normal’ circumstances (if circumstances on Yavin are normal at all). 

But why?  Why not “Agent Shan”?  That would differentiate him from Grand Master Shan.  Just referring to the pair as Grand Master and Agent would work too; how many Grand Masters and SIS Agents are running around on Yavin 4?  Why is Marr avoiding attention to the man’s last name?

And why doesn’t Marr hop on this and use it to the Empire’s advantage?

Pragmatism and Prioritization

Marr is not a Jedi.  Marr doesn’t do things for the greater good.  He does things for the Sith Empire and for the people of the Sith Empire.  Offing Theron Shan?  Definitely on the agenda.  So is killing Satele, eventually.

But not now.  Not on Yavin 4.

Marr is probably the person closest to knowing what Revan is going to try to do in order to make the Emperor take physical form again so he can kill him.  It’s going to involve a lot of dead people.  That can easily happen; up until this tiny fragile cease fire between Marr and Satele, the Empire and the Republic have been engaged in a hot war. When they first make camp on Yavin, there is a real possibility they’ll frag each other regularly.  This is why players have to do daily quests, in theory -- to build good will between the factions. 

My partner is a military nerd and a Star Wars nerd.  He watched both version of the Battle of Rishi.  His conclusion:  based on the ships we see, Marr had more than twice the number of troops that Satele did (I put the numbers in my Yavin 4 fic).  The Imperial troops, at Marr’s word, probably could wipe out the Republic forces on Yavin 4, pack up, and head back to Dromund Kaas in time for tea.

But they won’t.  Marr wouldn’t permit it.

He knows how dangerous the Emperor is, and if he does let his troops kill the Pubs, they feed him. There also appears to be some sort of weird mystical thing going on with Revan’s bloodline.  Revan knew highly personal information about Theron (and Theron says so when the player opens the temple later on); somehow, Theron was able to use that connection to get Revan to give up Yavin 4 and secure an invite there at the end of the Rishi op.

Marr knows about this.  Marr doesn’t know what Revan would do if Marr did kill Theron or Satele, plus there’s the more predictable possibility that the Republic would respond to the death of Satele Shan thanks to the Jedi feeling it through the Force.  Chancellor Saresh would not let that opportunity pass by, even if it did feed the Emperor; we saw that at Ziost. 

Grand Master Shan is a public figure.  Her name and her power is obvious to everyone in the Yavin camp.  Theron, however, is everything his mother is not.  He is a spy.  His face is not known to the general public.  His work is secret, his exact abilities unknown.

Sure, the last name is common enough....

But Theron and Satele have never worked together before.  They’ve never operated in such close proximity before.  Yavin 4 would be the first time all the pieces could fall into place to someone observant.  Marr is many things, but one of the things he really gets annoyed about in regard to the Sith is their arrogance.  They get such fat heads that they can’t see obvious danger or they overlook aliens and non-Force Sensitives to their own detriment. 

Marr isn’t arrogant.

He doesn’t think he’s the only one who can see a family similarity or sense some connection between them.  Saying someone’s name is a powerful thing; we get upset when someone screws up our name.  It’s how our attention is attracted.  Shared last names of interesting people attract attention.  Attention leads to distraction away from the primary goal of stopping Revan and the Emperor.

That’s something Marr doesn’t want to deal with right now.  Revan and Emperor now.  The Shans later.  He avoids referring to Theron as “Shan” so as to reduce any chance that some young Sith will attempt to make their bones killing Theron, since that would spell doom for the Empire, whether through Revan’s anger or the Republic’s revenge.  It would also help empower the Sith Emperor to retake physical form, which is the last thing Marr wants him to do. 

Exposing the Grand Master as having a secret son would remove an ally from the field for Marr; Marr doesn’t want to destroy his assets before he’s used them to their full ability.  There’s no point in burning Satele Shan on Yavin 4 before Revan is dealt with. 

...And Marr respects her.  It’s a cheap way to win against a rival he knows to be his equal.

Marr wants to end Revan and the Emperor now, in that order, to defend the people of the Empire.  He’ll worry about the Shans later.  Marr will let Theron’s last name be overlooked and unmentioned, if only because it makes his job as Defender of the Empire less complicated for a few months.

**

Thanks again to @swtorpadawan​ and also @inyri​ @shabre-legacy​ @theniveanlegacy​ for discussing the original post about Satele and Theron and making me think about this.  

Headcanon Postface:

This last bit is purely my headcanon ideas about Marr, so you can leave here if you so desire. I’m placing them here rather than making a separate post and having to link back to this one. 

As I’ve described previously, we have the finished product of Darth Marr, with none of the personal insight that was provided for Satele Shan.  Who’s under the mask?  Nobody knows, really.  His first comic book adventure takes place in 3678, when he’s about 24 years old.  There’s nothing about his life beforehand that would let the player wonder how his past life affected his current decisions.  Marr ultimately would do the best he could for the Empire, regardless, but knowing if he ever hesitated, ever had second thought, had a regret -- that would make him mortal. 

And Marr is an icon, not a man, in the grander SWTOR universe, per the writers. That’s the point driven home to the player.  So that leaves it to fan fic to take off the mask or not. 

In “The Planter of Trees and Other Tales from Yavin 4,” Marr comes to this conclusion about the Shans’ relationship after observing two Shan chins.  He then alludes to understanding Satele’s decision to conceal Theron’s existence.

After Marr had gained his seat on the Dark Council (late 3680s, early 3670s), a lot of Sith families wanted him to add to their prestige. The man needed a legacy; he needed heirs.  Marr had already set himself on his path, however; he understood that it was better to be an icon.  If Marr was a normal man, he would be weakened by family connections, love, protectiveness, concern for his personal future.  Instead, Marr’s devotion to the Empire was unmatched and pure.  In the public’s eye, he was the great defender. He was the perfect Sith.

Marr never did have a public wife or a political marriage. His private life -- better secured than Imperial state secrets -- produced a  daughter that did not inherit her talents from her Force-Using parent.  Marr had been relieved that his daughter was not like him.  It meant she would never be pressured to come into public life. It meant she was free of the burden of his legacy. 

Lately, I’ve considered that, regardless of having access to the Force or not, a child of Marr was always in danger of becoming a pawn.  She was something Marr’s enemies could use against him, if they ever found out about her; being Force-Null simply meant that others could not detect her as easily. That may have also have been a concern of Satele in regard to Theron, especially as she rose through the ranks of the Jedi Order.  As soon as Marr could let his daughter fly away from Dromund Kaas, he did.  She was free. 

She died shortly before the Sack of Coruscant.  Marr did not go to her. The Empire had to matter more.  That doesn’t mean he didn’t love her.  He just never could prioritize her over the Empire. 

In my fic universe, Marr understands Satele’s choices.  He can keep his mouth shut.  For now. 

Theron is far more dangerous to the rival faction than Marr’s daughter ever was, however; he is an active player in the war, while she... just got caught in the middle, in the end....

Revan and Emperor now.  Shans later.

**

[yanderemommabean]

The second scenario, reader asking them questions and trying to understand Grey’s backstory a little more.

Your fingers play with the black locks of Greys hair as he lays in your lap, muttering about how he hates the fact He’s always so cold now. Never enough heat, always in his cute little grey hoodie. He’s hardly ever taken it off since his change, so he says, wearing it like some sort of safety blanket or comfort object.

“You know…I know you’re like a vampire and all but…well-“

“Well?” He asks while prying one eye open to look at you, face resembling a cat woken up from a nice warm nap. You giggle and resist the urge to mush his face like you would a pet, adjusting your legs as you finish your question.

“-well where’s the story? Where’s the beginning of all this? Like…do you even do what other vampires do?”.

Grey goes quiet for a second, letting out a huff as he lays his head in a more comfortable angle on your thighs, and closes his eyes again in slight annoyance. “Can’t this wait til tonight? I don’t feel like doing much of memory searching when I can’t even think straight”.

You give a soft hum in thought, and pouted your lips in thought. “How’s about you answer me now, and I won’t beg to play on your switch later on and drink your Capri suns. Deal?”.

“You stay away from those!” Grey fiend being serious, giving a cute smile as he decided it wouldn’t hurt to answer some questions. “Fine, I’ll try and remember some past stuff but don’t expect anything major, got it?”.

“Got it”.

“So…I guess you wanna know when I really became one huh?” He asked while sliding his hands into his hoodie pockets, trying to warm his fingers up a bit as memories were being brought back up.

There’s this person who looks like his father. Some screaming and yelling, something violent, fire and scorched earth, and his own body was bleeding. That seems familiar enough for him to know his past wasn’t exactly a Brady Brunch kind of life.

“All I can remember from before is really just some flashes of people I don’t remember and the feeling of dread when I see them. Like they always thought less of me and hated me”.

You pause your fingers playing with his hair, and looked down at him to see his eyes closed in thought. “Grey that’s-“

“Don’t dwell on it” he shrugged “If we focus too much on that part I start to have anxiety attacks. Kinda like when I’m forced to feed on people but like…without any bloodshed”.

You hold in your comment, and try to steer him away from that part of his mind. “So how about when you first woke up as a zombie?”.

“Zombie?”

“Well your undead aren’t you?”

“I’m not a fuckin zombie though” he laughs, nuzzling closer into your thighs as he hums in thought.

“I remember seeing these bright, shining stars above me, then feeling like I was having low blood sugar. Shaking, hungry, confused- I thought I had a sugar crash or something”

“You diabetic?”

“If I was I can’t remember. I just know the signs is all. Pale, shaking, irritated- blah blah blah. Anyway, I remember feeling weak and shaky, and having the urge to feed on something. Anything really.”

During that time, he was lost in the woods and unable to remember how he even got there, what had happened before, and what the hell his actual name was. “Couldn’t remember anything, not even my actual name. I stumbled through the brush and what not for two hours until I found this ugly ass cabin”.

“Oof” you playfully say “Lee wouldn’t wanna hear you dissing his cabin”

“He’s the one who says speak the truth. Technically I’ve done nothing to garner his anger”.

You roll your eyes and gesture vaguely “Go on. Continue”.

“Well I knock on the door, pleading for Lee to help me, thinking maybe I had a mental break or something. Turns out he was waiting for me, said something about an old demon friend needed a favor”.

“So you were turned by a demon?”

“Apparently. Lee won’t tell me what deal I made, he just says we both gave the same demon our soul. My guess is…I probably had such a broken home that I wanted to either die or forget my family ever existed”.

He trails off softly, shifting nervously as he begins remembering bits and pieces of why he felt so hurt and alone. “I can definitely see wishing for death…but here I am. Alive but not at the same time”.

You gently rub his temples and think over his story so far. You thought maybe he was an experiment gone wrong, or had some badass secret society under his belt. Not that this story is disappointing, not at all! It’s just so sad to think a man who’s been hurt his whole life, felt the need to sell his soul to start over.

And he’s still being hurt. He hates that he’s a monster who has to hurt people. He doesn’t like to hurt people, he knows what it’s like to many extents, and to have to kill and maim just to survive really fucks with him. He nearly starved to death a few times because He couldn’t bring himself to eat from Lee’s “toys” in the basement.

“You’re still fantastic. A strong, sweet man who somehow manages to keep Jasper in check”.

Grey spits out a laugh and covers his face, shaking his head “I don’t even know how! I swear it’s like he has a crush or something! Hahaha!”

You smile hearing his laugh, and go back to toying with his hair and watching as his laughter dies down. “Well, your old life was shit but, I think your new life is much more suited for you”

Grey gave a half smile, half believing that statement. “Yeah. So far this life is looking up. Especially since you came along”.

(Give me your thoughts! Please I need to know if my OCs are actually entertaining 😂-Mommabean )