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neon-junkie · 1 year

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Knee-deep in Trouble

Summary: If there's one thing worse than being stuck in a snow storm, it's being stuck in a snow storm with your least favourite squad mate - Crosshair.

Pairing: Crosshair x gn!Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Enemies to friends, Huddling for warmth, Snow storms, Arguments, Bickering, Sleepy cuddles, Touch starved.

Notes: the recent episode got me THINKIN. yeah, i wanna cuddle this man, but... what if we hated each others guts? and we HAVE to cuddle for our own survival? mwahahah

Out of all the scenarios that could have happened today, this one just had to arise.

First, you were cut off from the rest of the Batch. Your comm lost signal as the snowstorm began to thicken, and all hopes of communicating the others dwindled as your main focus became finding shelter.

Your armour is only doing so much to keep you warm, and only now do you curse yourself for not opting for a helmet. A thick hood, scarf, and goggles are doing well at protecting your face, but the chill continues to seep into your bones as every second passes.

And even now, knee-deep in snow, trudging towards the mountain in hopes of finding some sort of shelter, you still manage to bark up another argument with your least favourite member of the Batch. "Hurry up," Crosshairs words are sharp, peering over his shoulder for a short moment to see you following behind. You're using his tracks to your advantage, pushing through the loose snow, allowing him to take the lead like a bulldozer.

You let out a grunt, "not all of us have stupidly long legs." Crosshair doesn't bother replying. There's no point. Instead, he pushes forward, and keeps his helmet dipped down to protect his sights from the incoming snow. Minutes pass, although time has blurred into one. All you've known for the last thirty minutes is to push forward, keep walking, and follow Crosshair's trail. Through your goggles, all you can see is white - thick heaps of snow that only continues to pile higher and higher. The mountain is now within your reach, and you follow the edge, waiting for some form of shelter to appear.

"This will do," Crosshair comments as he comes upon an assortment of boulders, providing some shelter from the storm. With a frown, you let out a disappointed, "is this it?" as you gesture to the tiny crevices that will barely keep you covered, let alone warm.

Despite not being able to see Crosshair's expression, you know he's scowling as he gestures to the surrounding area. "Do you see any other options?"

No, you don't, but you're not going to give up hope. "I'm going to push on," you say as you turn back to him, and vaguely gesture into the distance. Surely there will be a cave up ahead, or a cliff that provides cover. There must be something better than some rogue boulders.

Pushing through the snow, Crosshair grabs at your forearm with a tut. "You will not," he scolds. "We need to stick together. This is as good as it's going to get," Crosshair points to the 'shelter,' and you pull your hand from his in disgust, let out a grumble with it. "I'm going," you repeat. "You can sit with your boulder buddies and freeze to death. I'll find a cave, get warm, then collect your body once the storm has passed." With that, you continue moving forwards, unbothered if Crosshair chooses to follow. His lips purse in annoyance, and he's rather vocal about his frustration. Still, he follows you, telling himself that it's purely for the fact that you're going to get yourself killed, and he'll be the one collecting bodies. The mountain itself would provide decent cover, if it wasn't for the fact that the snow is falling against your direction. One gloved hand comes up to move your scarf higher on your face, tucking the edges beneath your goggles to prevent it from slipping down again. At least your nose is warm, the complete opposite to your toes.

Despite his armour's heating system, Crosshair is now really starting to feel the chill. His teeth are clattering together beneath his helmet, and every so often, his fingertips brush over one of his belt pouches. Inside are the tools necessary to start a fire, and he'll be damned if those tools are somehow taken from him, despite never falling out of his pocket before. Your feet come to a halt, and Crosshair, who isn't looking up, bumps into your back with a grumble. "What is it?" he groans as you look over your shoulder, silently cursing him for running into you without an apology. "What does that look like?" you point ahead. Crosshair squints through his visor, before flicking his helmet's scope down to zoom in on the area up ahead. "A cave," he mutters.

"I told you I was right," you shrug, and you're met with another grumble. "Don't let it get to your head," Crosshair huffs as he pushes past you, eager to get out of this knee-deep snow. With a roll of your eyes, you follow behind, allowing Crosshair to clear the last stretch of your journey. The cave is deep, stretching far deeper than you require. You only need shelter, not another adventure, so you and Crosshair pitch yourselves several meters from the entrance. For the first time in what feels like hours, snow and wind is no longer against you; all you need to do now is stay warm, and stay alive.

Once his helmet is removed, Crosshair crouches down and begins pulling supplies from his belt pouch. It's standard GAR equipment, but it's enough to get a fire up and running, and hopefully, keep it burning for longer than you need. However, once lit, the flame is... disappointing. "Is that it?" you sigh, looking at the meek fire at your feet. Crosshair looks up at you whilst feeding the remains of his supplies to the flame, encouraging it to grow, even if it's just a little. Despite the tiny flicker of light, your goggles begin to steam up, so they're reassigned to sitting on your forehead, allowing you to give your eyes a well-needed rub, and relax your scarf around your neck. "This pack is usually only assigned to one person," Crosshair replies, watching you sit down opposite him. You know that the clones are kitted with essentials to survive, which would explain why Crosshair only has enough for himself. If only you had your backpack with you - the backpack that is sitting back on the Marauder, because this mission was meant to be a simple retrieval, until you wound up separated from the others, and lost in a snow storm. "It's better than nothing, I suppose." Crosshair lets out a simple, "mhm," as he gets comfortable opposite you.

Silence fills the air, minus the howling winds coming from down the cave. Silence - as in, the silence between you and Crosshair - is common. You've never really seen eye to eye, both too stubborn for your own good. Maybe that's why he went after you when the Batch split up, covering different routes as part of your mission. He must have known that you would wind up in trouble, which is why he told Wrecker to go with Hunter instead, pairing himself up with you. You are his squad mate, after all. Far from a friend, but still an asset to the team. "What is it?" Crosshair questions, and only now do you realise that you've been staring at him.

"Nothing," you reply with a firm shake of your head. Crosshair's eyes squint for a brief moment, before he decides to bite his tongue, and not bother pushing your buttons. (For once.) "Why don't you get some rest?" Crosshair suggests, which might be his first good suggestion of the day. Maker knows how long this storm will brew for, and you need to be physically prepared for more trudging through that snow, which must be thigh high at this point.

"Only if you do the same," you reply. Such kind words cause Crosshair's eyes to widen, only for a moment, before he pulls his emotional mask back on. There's no need for either of you to be on watch, and despite your disliking for the man, the bags under his eyes are as heavy as yours. Rest is needed, for both of you.

"You first. I'll follow," Crosshair replies with a soft nod. "I want to finish warming myself up first." With a light sigh, you shift onto your side, pulling your knees up against your chest. The fire is warm against your face, and hopefully, it'll continue to warm the rest of your body up as you sleep. Your hood acts as the thinnest pillow in existence, but it's thick enough to keep the chill of the cave floor away from your ear, and you'll take what you can get. Finally, your lases flutter shut, and it doesn't take eternity for you to drift into a deep slumber.

Crosshair is loitering.

Why? He doesn't really know. You've been asleep for an hour, and in that time, Crosshair has cleaned the snow from his armour and rifle, wandered deeper into the cave to find the remains of another campfire, long forgotten, and scavenged the leftovers from it. The fire is eating away at new material, yet Crosshair is still huddling close to it, as if it's a fading source of warmth. There's a chill in his bones that he can't seem to shake off. No matter what he does, no matter how warm he feels on the surface, his insides feel cold. With slanted brows, he brings his knees up to his chest, and wraps his armoured arms around his thighs. Silver hair rests against his forearm as he presses his cheek to his knees, breathing deeply as his eyes shut. He can't relax. He can't warm up. Crosshair thinks, questioning what to do. He's oh-so-tense, and his muscles are long worn out from shivering. However, it seems he's not the only person who has a chill within them. Crosshair's eyes perk open at the sound of whimpering. There, on the cave floor, is you, sound asleep; only you're not sound asleep. You're shivering, curled up in a ball besides the fire, struggling to maintain heat in the depths of your slumber. Untucking himself from his position, Crosshair pulls his glove off to press his palm against your cheek. There's barely any warmth to you, and it's a mystery how you've not woken up. Crosshair has found himself in a predicament. Despite not being the best of friends, Crosshair doesn't want you, nor himself, to freeze to death. The fire is growing, but it's still not enough for either of you. He has an idea - a silly, foolish idea that you're bound to hate him even more for - but he can't bring himself to wake you up and offer the suggestion.

Well, what if he doesn't have to wake you? A deep grumble slips from his lips as he ponders his options. Surely you'll understand, right? It's not like there are any other options, and you can't hate him any more than you already do.

With that, Crosshair slips his glove back on and rises to his feet. He walks over to you, tilting his head as he analyses your curled up pose, questioning how he can fit with you - like pieces to a puzzle. He's quiet as he dips down to his knees, tucking his body behind yours. Crosshair remains propped up on one elbow, and cautiously positions his legs around yours, followed by his torso. You've barely shifted in your sleep, jittering away whilst soft huffs slip from your lips, only your whimpering seems to calm as Crosshair places his hand around your waist, ensuring that it's firmly in the centre of your torso, not wondering north or south. With that, he shifts himself off his elbow, allowing his head to rest against the cave floor. This isn't his first time sleeping on the floor, nor stone floor, for that matter; still, it's uncomfortable, but he'll take what he can get. After letting out a deep breath, Crosshair finally bites the bullet. Using the arm wrapped around your waist, Crosshair pulls your body against his, fitting perfectly together. He's cuddling you, in some form or other, but there are instant results. Your jittering is coming to an end, and somehow, Crosshair is already managing to feel warmth growing inside his chest.

Or are those butterflies?

Whatever. He allows his eyes to fall shut, and finally gets some rest.

It's not often that you drool in your sleep. However, this is one of those few occasions. The sensation of your drool dripping over your cheek shakes your body awake, and through groggy vision, you move a hand off your pillow to wipe your spit away. Your arm returns to your pillow, clutching onto it tighter as you pull it against your chest. Something firm is pressed to your cheek - firm, yet warm, like plastoid armour on a-

Wait.

You let out a soft, "huh?" as your eyes open, soon focusing on familiar red and black armour. Somebody's chest plate is acting as your pillow, along with their arm, keeping your head off the cave floor.

Ah, yes. The cave. The cave that you entered to shelter from the snowstorm, and of all the people that you could have been thrown into the deep end with, it just happened to be-

"Would you stop fidgeting?" a rather frustrated, yet quiet voice calls out. Looking up through your lashes, your eyes come into focus with Crosshair, who is attempting to sleep. His expression is neutral, eyes shut, and dare you say it, but Crosshair looks rather sweet when he's cooped up at your side.

You let out a sheepish, "sorry." Your eyes wander around the cave, soon meeting the entrance. It's light outside, the sun is shining down overhead, and the snow looks far tamer than it was last night. Your way out might not be as cursed after all, but a new issue has risen. Crosshair is softly snoring, and his grip on you is deadly. He is not letting go, or at least, not without a fight. For a man who prefers his own company, he seems rather touch starved, and whilst you clash heads with him, you're content with giving him the comfort that he so clearly needs.

And it's a good thing that you're content with this scenario, as Crosshair rolls over onto his side, engulfing you deeper into his grasp.

Sure, plastoid armour isn't the comfiest thing to cuddle, but the man beneath it is. Your chest is pressed to his, legs tangled up together, and Crosshair's arms are holding you tightly against him. He's rather soothing like this, your personal teddy bear, but you know that he's only doing this for warmth. It pains you; you may not get along, but you can't deny that you aren't soft on him. Perhaps your soft spot is mutual, as despite your clashing heads, Crosshair wouldn't do this if he truly disliked you.

"Go back to sleep," Crosshair quietly mutters, his voice barely audible above his deep breaths.

"What?" you stir, peering up to see his tired expression, eyes remaining shut.

"I can hear you thinking," he replies. The hand around your waist moves up, and gloved fingertips entwine themselves in your hair. Crosshair begins to softly massage your scalp, earning a pleasant hum, and for your eyes to close. "Quit thinking, and get some rest," Crosshair demands once more.

Mhm, can't argue with that. You allow yourself to become engulfed in warmth, pressing your chest tighter against Crosshair's, with your forehead resting against his collarbones. His fingers continue to glide against your hair, offering nothing but comfort.

In this moment, you feel nothing but safe and secure. Crosshair is doing all he can to keep you warm, and you've been the fool for being so harsh on him - not that your harshness isn't reciprocated. And it seems you're as touch starved as he is, as you're clinging onto him for dear life, soaking up all the physical contact that you can get.

Maybe it's time to turn over a new leaf, see eye to eye, and allow your similar personalities to grow, rather than clash. Maybe Crosshair isn't so bad after all.

#tbbwriting #knee-deep in trouble #the bad batch #crosshair #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #tbb #snow storm #blizzard #huddling for warmth #fanfic #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfic

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fenricken · 3 months

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You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 4/7

AO3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

first

The rain fell heavily, washing the blood on the ground away as he stepped toward the woman. She was hunched over, sobbing, clutching her dead son to her chest. She glanced up at him as he approached, mouthing silent prayers.

“What happened here?” he asked, carefully ignoring the dead bodies around.

“They came… for a box my family has guarded for a long time. They killed my husband and my son, and they’ve taken my Catherine… They’ll torture her to make her speak its secrets. Please! Please, help her!”

She reached out a hand to him, imploringly. He crouched down to take it.

“I will.”

————

Danny stood before Clockwork, adjusting his new cowboy hat. Maddie and Jack stood behind Clockwork tinkering on the Fenton Omega Siphoner, and arguing over the aesthetics of the machine.

“I have already sent Dani out to help the Justice League locate Batman’s cape. Hopefully we should receive word on her success soon.” Clockwork began, “In the meantime, we do still need someone to make sure Batman doesn’t rush forward too quickly, lest he build up too much energy before we can stop him. Are you ready?”

“Always ready for bat-sitting duty. I’d hope he’s doing something a bit calmer this time, but I suppose there’s no chance of that happening.” Danny responded, pointing to his hat.

Clockwork just gave his usual cryptic smile before opening a portal for Danny to step through.

————

“Roooooobin. Rooooooooobin.”

Tim whirled around, searching for the source of the noise.

“Oooh, new fit?” Poltergeist asked, stepping out of the shadows. “Ugly cowl, but I like the rest of it.”

Tim lowered his bo staff at her, readying himself for whatever chaotic ‘game’ she tried to rope him into this time.

“Your city’s on fire. You bats trying out some new defense mechanism or something? Like, you think no rogue would want to take over Gotham if it’s a pile of rubble and ash?” She turned in a circle, surveying the chaos Gotham was under.

“What do you want, Poltergeist?”

“Well, so like, Batman’s stuck in time, right? And-”

“How do you know that?!” Red Robin cut in. He had been struggling to convince everyone that Batman was still alive ever since he found those paintings on the walls of the Batcave. Suddenly, here was Poltergeist who seemed to know something about it, but he couldn’t trust her. She was unpredictable, and running into her could mean leaving with anything as benign yet uncomfortable as soaked socks or as irritating and hindering as being cursed to only speak dead languages for the next 3 days.

And things only got worse if she was tagging along with Klarion. Fortunately, he wasn’t in sight, so it's unlikely he was here with her.

“What do you want?”

She smiled slightly at him. “Oh! I want to get Batman back where he belongs before he dies or explodes everything.”

Explodes everything?

“I mean, Gotham’s got a grumpy quota and since you’re his mini-me I figured you’d start trying to take it on and that’d be so boring.” She raised her pointer fingers to the side of her head, imitating Batman’s cowl and adopted a nasally voice. “I don’t have time to play, Poltergeist. Gotham needs me. I have to go stalk Penguin, and then I need to go brood on my favorite gargoyle.”

“So you want to help me find Batman so that I will… be able to play with you?”

“Well, that, but also if he makes his way to the present day on his own, he’ll have built up enough of something called Omega Energy to make all of reality go ka-blooey, and I actually really like this universe. Top 10, easily.”

Tim held up his hand to stop the oncoming ramble while he compartmentalized.

First, Poltergeist knew Bruce was lost in the time stream and seemed to want to help.

Second, Bruce was making his way back to the present, and by doing so was becoming a living bomb

Third, Poltergeist is a multiversal being???

That last one can probably be ignored for now.

“If I were to let you help me find Batman, where do you suggest we start? I’ve been tracking down artifacts I think he’s left behind to try and convince the Justice League to help us-”

“Psh. Justice League Shmustice League. My dad and my Nana and Pops are already working on it. We just need to find the cape he was sent back in time with for them. Besides, I can probably convince Wonder Woman to help us get the Justice Dorks to help out once we get the cape if we really need to.”

What.

“What?”

“My grandparents are building a thingy-thing to suck all the Omega Energy out of Batman so he’s not a bomb. My dad’s hanging out with him to keep him from dying or something, and we’re supposed to find his cape so we can safely yoink him out of the time stream.”

“I didn’t know you had parents??? What do they do while you’re here breaking things???”

Poltergeist shrugged “King things I guess. And I only have a dad.”

“King things???”

She rolled her eyes, “Anyway, Dad said he last saw Batman’s cape in the Batcave.”

“You didn’t answer my question, and I’m not taking you to the Batcave.”

Poltergeist landed on her feet, and stared at him with wide eyes. He stared back, caught in her gaze for what felt like an eternity, as he felt invisible fingers trickle up his spine. Whispers started low in his ears, building to a crescendo. It was getting too much to bear, until he broke eye contact and looked away. All of a sudden, it stopped. Tim heaved a big sigh.

“I’m… kinda fighting with the current Batman, so we’ll have to sneak in.”

She punched both arms into the air, “YES!”

Tim turned, flicking his cape and walking off, not waiting to see if she’d follow.

“Poltergeist, when this is over you are going to be answering my questions.”

He heard her blow a raspberry at his back, but kept walking.

————

He followed their trail easily enough, the rain trailing after him. As he reached his destination, men came out to fight him, readying pistols, but he made short work of them easily enough.

With his memory having returned in bits and pieces, it had been easy to fashion metal into bat shapes aerodynamic enough to hit true when thrown, and it was these he’d used to disarm the men.

These memories were useful. The ones of children with blurry faces less so, haunting him as they stayed just out of his complete grasp. A constant reminder of how lost and alone he was.

He steadily made his way to the headquarters, where he figured they were keeping Catherine. He whirled around, sensing someone approaching from behind. It was the man with white hair, again.

“Seems you’ve got this well enough in hand, but I hope you don’t mind if I’d tag along all the same.”

“Why?”

The white haired man smiled slightly. “Will you not believe that I just want to help you?”

He stared, unblinking and quiet. Memories from before had proven this a good method to get more information.

His target stared back, also quiet and unblinking. It wasn’t long before he started shifting, and not much longer before he finally spoke again. Under his breath, almost too quiet to hear, he muttered “Just like Dani, I swear…”

Louder, the man said, “I’ve not known you to be the kind of man to ever be on the wrong side of a cause. Whatever you’re up to, I just want to help.”

He squinted at the man, trying to find any evidence of a lie, but the man just appeared open and honest.

“No guns,” he says, before turning back around and leading the white haired man on towards the headquarters.

As they got closer, they noticed two men standing guard. He deployed smoke bombs to cover their approach, sneaking closer with his companion close behind. They were spotted, but the smoke did its work, scaring the two guards and allowing him and his companion to disappear from view again.

“How you gonna tell me there’s no such things as ghosts now???” One of them whimpered, apparently to his white-haired friend’s delight, as he broke out in giggles.

As the smoke continued to grow, he and his friend snuck around the two, tricking them into fighting each other.

He broke through into the offices in the back. They were unfortunately empty.

“Already gone!” He said, slamming a hand on the desk. His companion stood at the window.

“Not long though, look!”

When he spotted their carriage speeding away through the window, he knew he had to act quickly. He launched himself out of the window, and onto the tarp covering the wagon.

An explosion sounded behind him, but he focused on the task ahead of him. His friend always seemed to find his way back, so he’d have to trust he’d do it again.

The ensuing fight was nothing pretty, little more than mad scrambling as he fought to hold his balance, dodge bullets, and wrestle the men actually in the cart so he could get away with the Catherine and her family’s box.

Looking ahead, he saw they were quickly approaching the dock, and a man who was walking down it. Thinking quickly, he swung his body-weight around, tipping the wagon over and sending everyone sprawling.

The man who had been at the dock had acted quickly, grabbing the young woman and holding her protectively behind him. He stood up, adding to the obstacles that stood protecting Catherine from her kidnappers. Only 3 men remained. From the snippets he heard as two of them fought, he figures the two fighting must’ve been the masterminds behind the plot and the third still in the distance was a gun-for-hire. Taking out his weapons of choice, he quickly dispatched the two men.

Catherine tugged on his cloak. He turned to face her, seeing that she had opened up the box, and was showing him what was inside.

It was Jack Valor’s journal.

He wanted to reach out–to see what Jack had added since they parted, but the gun-for-hire had caught up to them by then.

“My employers may have been dealt with, but I still have a reputation to uphold. Draw.”

He stood up straight, reaching for more of his weapon of choice. Over the shoulder of the gun-for-hire, he saw another man approaching quickly, white-haired. His friend.

A loud bang echoed, and he felt pain in his side. He stumbled, too close to the edge of the dock, and as he fell over he heard one last cry of ‘BAT–’.

And everything went dark.

————

Shit.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

As if Batman stumbling towards the present through who-knows-when wasn’t bad enough, now he’s SHOT???

Danny quickly ripped a portal back to Clockwork’s lair.

“Please tell me you’ve almost got the machine ready.” Danny said after confirming his parents were in the room.

“Almost! Just one problem, sweetie…” His mom said, looking over at her husband so he’d finish.

“Batman needs to die. Or at least be very close to death!” Jack said, ending with a laugh.

“Basically, we can get this machine to suck out the Omega Energy, but it’s tightly bonded with Batman’s life energy, so it’s extremely risky unless we can find a way to diminish his life energy.”

Danny groaned, putting his face in his hands. “It’s just one thing after another! He’s just been shot. Would that bring him close enough?”

His dad tilted his head back and forth, considering. “Likely not, unless he was in a pretty bad way. In any case, we asked Sam and Tucker to take a look into it!”

“We’ve already found something, actually.” Sam said, having entered the room. Tucker followed behind her.

“There’s an herb that I was able to locate, which should slow his heart down to extreme levels, to the point his heartbeat would be pretty undetectable. Only problem is that his heart would have to be jump-started afterward by a great shock.”

“Clockwork let me take a closer look at his monitors into Batman’s original time and place, and I was able to determine that they have defibrillator technology that can administer an electrical shock needed to get his heart pumping again, as well as adrenaline injections in case we’d need the extra boost.” Tucker continued.

Maddie clapped her hands together. “Excellent! If we can get the Justice League to set up the anchor point on the Watchtower, we can pull Batman to that point and perform everything there! It’d probably work best to do it in his original time as well, to avoid any potential effects that could crop up from being in the wrong time when we remove the Omega Energy and try to stabilize his system.”

“Great, some good news.” Danny said, tension leaving his body. He turned to Clockwork, who had been quiet thus far. “How’s Dani’s work coming along? Will we be ready to proceed soon?”

“Dani and Red Robin have recovered Batman’s cape, and have moved it to the Watchtower. I believe Dani was able to recruit Wonder Woman’s help into getting the rest of the Justice League in line to receive Batman.”

————

“Red Robin! Did you seriously bring Poltergeist into the cave??? What were you thinking?”

Before Tim could reply, Poltergeist raised a hand to point at Dick-as-Batman.

“AAH! It’s the cops! Run!”

Poltergeist placed her hand on Tim’s shoulder, pulling him and the cape through the ceiling of the batcave and up in the open air of Gotham. As Tim caught sight of Wayne Manor his head whipped towards Poltergeist, hoping she wouldn’t make any connections.

She was staring at him, lips pressed together, looking a bit like a frog.

He was quiet, waiting for her to say something.

She blew a breath of air out, letting her lips buzz.

“Listen, you keep my secret, and I won’t tell anyone Batman’s secret id is some rich fruitloop.”

“...What secret?”

She pivoted them somewhere Southeast.

“That sometimes I can be responsible. Let’s go see Wonder Woman.”

AN:

It's definitely been longer than I had planned since the last update, rip.

Not going to lie, this is like my second ever fic and I definitely thought it'd be a bit easier to get back into the habit of writing. Thought I was making it easier on my self by strongly sticking to the plot of an existing story, but I think that's been an obstacle in and of itself.

Always a little worried that the language is a bit stuffy or things aren't being clear.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #batman comic rewrite basically #dp x dc crossover #spirit halloween ship

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nothums-from-tj · 2 months

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Hi I’ve arrived to shove a Dakavendish theory down ur throat <3

MML spoilers if you haven’t finished it yet

Hmmmm also if you end up writing this pleeeeeeease rb w/send me the link, otherwise I’ll be writing this when I finally have the energy to do so <3

So it’s common behavior for people to be most judgmental abt what they’re most insecure about. What does Cav mostly pick apart? Being taken seriously, and being competent. Based on the alien invasion, hence seemingly the reason he went rogue, it was a huge thing that he felt he wasn’t being taken seriously, and then to think that Dakota—his only constant—thinks he’s crazy, that seemed to be a breaking point. I’m sure even with knowing about the ILD, that could’ve solidified some idea along the lines of “I can’t believe I’m so useless that Dakota had to save me that many times.” (Maybe I’m projecting. Maybe both idk it’s my post)

TigerUnknown on AO3 had this idea of Dakota requesting a partner change early into them working together, and I really like that it adds depth to their relationship in the sense that it really took some extra time to get used to one another. Even when they were first assigned partners, there was still a bit of tension despite the new understanding with one another

All that said: what if the first time Cav died was to save Dakota?

Like he spends the whole mission after that trying to prove himself to Dakota and nothing’s going as planned, Dakota’s getting annoyed/frustrated as much as he’s not showing it (not much anyway) and Cav is even more frustrated and humiliated that things are worse than they usually are. He breaks down at one point finally expressing how he’s trying so hard to be good enough and to show he’s worth something and Dakota feels horrible bc it was never meant to make him feel bad it’s just a matter of preference

Mid-breakdown or nearing the end is when he notices Dakota being in danger that he doesn’t notice either, Cav becomes human shield/pushes him out of the way, cue first Cav death

Dakota can only sit in shock at the realization of. Everything and can only attempt to process before eventually going back and saving himself and Cav, maybe even killing his past self in the process so he didn’t have to deal with that right away

Things continue on and Dakota is still struggling but suddenly he’s a bit more easygoing and reassuring, and Cav has no idea what happened bc last he knew he was about to die and Dakota was pretty distant—not exactly cold, just the way most coworkers talk to one another. Now he’s talking to him like a scared child and Cav thinks he’s patronizing him and there’s not much to convince him otherwise, but with Dakota insisting on a distraction he just goes along w it and their relationship actually builds from there

Dakota never really forgives himself for upsetting Cav as much as he did then, even if it was completely unintentional, and especially couldn’t live with himself if he let him stay dead after everything Cav shared with him

#dakavendish #milo murphy's law #mml #vinnie dakota #balthazar cavendish #tj shares #long post #i have. so many thoughts #are there no other ship tags for them??????#that made things easy lol #been thinking abt this a lot #mml spoilers #island of lost dakotas

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undreaming-fanfiction · 4 months

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With This Ring (13)

Chapter 12 here, Ao3 here

The whole rush to the church was a blur to Steve. He was distantly aware of Eddie’s sped up summary of the last day that sounded more like a drunken nightmare instead of something that could have ever happened. He didn't bother adding any details, instead focusing on the feel of Robin and Eddie’s arms under his. Steve had originally started speed walking and tried to keep his pained expression at bay, but a few whispers behind him put a prompt end to that. They both grabbed him, supported his weight enough to lessen the pain in his ankle and off they went.

Robin, to her credit, remained mostly quiet. Maybe it was the shortness of breath - as Eddie had said before, not needing any oxygen had its merits - but she took the whole story in literal stride. Only when Eddie finished with tossing the tape in the mail did she say something.

“I wish I could have seen Dick’s face when you did the stabby thing. He deserved that. And more.” Her tone didn’t betray much, but there was a hidden sting.

Eddie laughed. “Damn right he did. Although you’ve surprised me, Buckley. You seem pretty chill with the whole living dead thing.”

She kept her eyes on the road, carefully synchronizing her steps with Steve. “Trust me, I’m freaking out on the inside. But I saw you up close. You…don’t look right. Having a crazy explanation is better than guessing and coming up with an even crazier one.” After a few seconds of silence, she added, “and also I don’t have time to faint, scream my head off, or do whatever you’re expecting. Nancy’s about to marry that douchebag, and I can only handle one crisis at a time.”

“Wise.”

As they arrived at the church door, Steve turned to face them. “How do I look?”

It wasn’t really a question. He was disheveled and for how crazy his heart was beating, he was dead tired. No pun intended.

Eddie smirked at him and tucked a rogue hair strand behind Steve’s ear. “Perfect, like always.”

“Yeah yeah, but you also look like someone who was supposed to crash the wedding five minutes ago,” snapped Robin and pushed him towards the door. “Let’s go!”

That was an order he could easily follow. Steve straightened his back and pushed the heavy doors open.

He was met with dozens of pairs of eyes. Frightened, relieved, confused…but mostly judging.

The church wasn’t nearly as full as Steve expected, but his stomach still gave an uncomfortable squeeze, as if it begged him not to draw any more attention to themselves. But he had to do it, had to be in the spotlight again. Especially when Nancy was about to have her life ruined in a way much worse than had been in her stars just a few days prior.

Swallowing down the rising panic, Steve took a deep breath. “I object!”

If Brenner’s stare could kill, Steve would be hanged, stabbed, stoned and set on fire all at once.

But as cheesy as it may have sounded, he was afraid of nothing when he had Eddie by his side.

“You’re late, young man,” Brenner said. “You had your chance already, you squandered it. Isn’t ruining one wedding enough for you?”

“Not at all, sir.” Steve was marching ahead, still holding Eddie’s hand and focusing on not letting his pain show. This wasn’t a place to show weakness. “This one is far more enjoyable to ruin. Because the bride actually doesn’t want to marry him. I doubt God looks kindly at coercion.”

Nancy smiled at him with so much warmth and disbelief it made his heart jump. “Steve, you came! You’re okay!” she whispered. She bit her lip when she saw Robin behind his back, sneaking to the side and making her way to the altar. To do what, Steve wasn’t sure, but he would support her no matter what, even if she tried to abduct Nancy by throwing her over her shoulder.

But before he could respond, another voice interrupted them. “You dare to speak about God when you keep this company?!”

Jason Carver was shaking. He stared at Eddie with a look so hateful and terrified that he must have seen through the ruse, even though Eddie was still far away. Eddie wasn’t facing any of the wedding guests, but Carver’s expression betrayed that he knew.

“I don’t know what dark entity brought you back, freak, but you don’t belong here. You can’t be in the house of God! I won’t allow you to ruin more lives than you already have!”

Nancy took a step back, watching Jason with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you see? He’s dead! His…his eyes are all wrong. He was gone for over a year and now he’s come back…different.” Jason was pale under his usual tan. He was licking his lips between sentences, staring at Eddie as if he’d been sent to drag him to hell. “You should be dead and I don’t care what black magic you are using, you will return to the grave. The dead have no right to walk amongst the living!”

“Ooooh, scary!” muttered Eddie, but Jason wasn’t listening. His focus had shifted to the wedding guests.

He turned to the seated people of Hawkins and raised arms. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I know how preposterous it sounds, but take a single look at his face and tell me, is this the Eddie Munson you knew?!”

More people turned to Eddie, studying him and flinching as the realization hit them. “No,” was the resounding answer.

Jason continued his speech, turning to pastor Brenner. “Pastor, you are a man of God. Will you allow this? Will you allow this abomination to disturb this joyful day?!”

“No!” shouted one of Jason’s friends. Steve recognized him - it was Patrick, Jason’s teammate and a constant sidekick. “Not in this town!”

There it was, that famous magnetic personality. Jason could rally crowds, inspire bravery and righteous anger with his speeches, just like he had when Chrissy disappeared. Steve could see the wedding guests stirring in their seats, some slowly getting up, moving towards him and Eddie. He grasped his hand, disregarding its coldness – it provided much more warmth to him than many had in life. So what if he was supposed to be dead!

Dead…

Steve took a deep, sharp breath. Was this…?

The mob in fancy clothes was approaching.

“Steve?” whispered Eddie and tugged on his hand, urging him to follow him out of the church. “I’m pretty sure this is our cue to leave. Maybe run. Fast. I’m sure the bride to be will follow.”

But Steve shook his head and let go of Eddie’s hand, a single caress on his knuckles as a promise of return before he took a step forward.

“How do you know, Jason?”

The groom stared at him, confused. The charm was temporarily broken and people stopped in their tracks, glancing between the two men. “How do I know what?” asked Jason.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he felt his trademark bitchy smirk tugging on his lips. He might not have been academically smart, but he knew people. And that right there? That was a man sweating underneath his expensive wedding suit, and not because the church was too warm, oh no.

He took another step forward and motioned for the people to sit, no struggling for confidence this time, no wondering if he deserved the attention, the respect he felt when they returned to their seats, confused but obeying. Because this wasn’t about him – this was about Eddie in every single way. If he was honest with himself, he couldn’t really remember when things hadn’t been about Eddie.

“How do you know Eddie is dead?” he asked again, loud and clear. “Because that was an impressive monster hunt speech. And yet…no one could have told you Eddie is dead. He’s moving. He’s breathing, when he remembers to. Sure, I told my parents and Robin too, but I know for certain none of them told you. My parents would never say something so preposterous aloud, and Robin didn’t know until just a few minutes ago. The point is - Eddie does look alive if you don’t see him up close. But you are so certain from the second we walked in that he’s dead. Or at least…that he was dead at some point.”

Jason grew several shades paler, if that was even possible. He was gripping Nancy’s elbow so tightly that she bit her lip in pain and yanked her hand away. Staring at Steve, he was stammering, searching for words. “I…of course he is, I mean look at him, look-“

But Steve just shook his head, making his way to the altar. The carpet felt soft under his feet and he had to stifle an urge to laugh – he was dreading this day so much, avoiding it like the plague, and yet joining Nancy at the altar now felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was almost liberating, saving her from a monster that for once wasn’t their forced marriage.

“Look at what, Jason?” he stretched his words, enunciating and raising his voice so everyone in the church could hear him. “Please enlighten me. Or maybe some of you esteemed guests can!” He turned around and addressed the wedding guests, taking in their faces – Ted Wheeler’s pasty face, trembling in silent rage, confusion in others, fear…but only one face showed what he was looking for.

Karen Wheeler was clutching her purse so tight her baby blue nails made tiny indents in them, but her mouth was open. She couldn’t hide the horror of the growing realization about who her daughter was to marry.

Steve smiled at her, motioned for her to speak up. “Tell me, Mrs. Wheeler. When you look at Eddie Munson, the man standing there – sure, he might look a bit tired, maybe pale, but would your immediate thought be…this man is dead?”

She shook her head slowly and Steve didn’t have to look behind him to sense the pride that was swelling from Nancy. The women of this family were strong, after all. “Absolutely not,” she answered, voice loud and clear. “Not unless…I already knew he was dead.” Her eyes bore into Jason, accusing him.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. My thoughts exactly.” Steve turned back to the guests and extended his hand towards Eddie in a silent plea to join him. “You see, Jason is right. Eddie is dead. As in no heartbeat but still moving, reanimated dead. He’d be able to describe it more eloquently, maybe even present it in a rather disturbing way. But Jason couldn’t have known that – Eddie was assaulted about a year ago and left for dead, buried in a shallow grave…”

That was the first time Steve’s voice faltered, the anger, sadness and injustice of it all squeezing his throat, but Eddie’s cool hand was there again, rejoining him and grounding him as he went on.

“A shallow grave a short walk from here, in the woods. There was no headstone to see, no indication what happened. As far as everyone knew, Eddie just left one day. And it was so convenient to believe that he ran away after all the rumors about Chrissy Cunningham, about his assumed role in her disappearance. Even if his uncle knew Eddie would never leave his guitar, his beloved books, hell, especially him. He wouldn’t leave Wayne Munson behind, not without a goodbye. But if you asked, someone had an answer…a convenient witness who saw Eddie leave the town.”

Steve turned to Hopper who stood there with his usual unreadable expression, frowning at the guests and at the world. “Chief. Can you please confirm for all of us here who informed you that Eddie left the town, that he wasn’t missing?”

Hopper stayed quiet for a moment, fingers looped behind his belt as he considered his answer. “It was Andy…Andrew Conner,” he said gruffly, stabbing Jason with a sharp glare – Jason, who was still grasping what was happening.

And there it was, the final discrepancy. Nodding, Steve addressed the guests again. “There you have it. The only reason why Eddie Munson wasn’t considered missing was the word of a single young man…a young man who happens to be Jason’s close friend. And yet, before even seeing Eddie up close, Jason immediately believed that Eddie was the spawn of Satan, an unholy zombie or whatever he wants to call his current state. But if his best friend witnessed Eddie leaving the town, how come Jason immediately jumped to this conclusion?”

Hopper made a sound of reluctant agreement. “Young Harrington here makes a good point. Care to explain that, Carver? Because I’ve been here for the whole shitshow and while you spouted a lot of stuff about black magic and what not, that young man doesn’t look dead to me.”

Before Jason could respond, Patrick stood up again and pointed a finger at Eddie. “This is absurd. What reason would Jason have to kill Munson? Sure, he didn’t like him, but it’s not like he’d risk prison to get rid of him. You don’t go to jail for vermin.”

Before anyone could answer, an unexpected sound broke the silence – Eddie started laughing, loud and unrestricted, echoing between the tall church walls. “Oh, but he had a reason,” he growled at Jason, staring daggers at him. “I didn’t really suspect him, didn’t think he had it in him. Or at least I hoped that the Hawkins’ next golden boy wouldn’t do something so utterly stupid. See, Nancy Wheeler isn’t the first woman Mr. Perfect here is about to make unhappy. Do any of you remember who used to date Chrissy Cunningham?”

The groom grew even paler. “Don’t you dare talk about her!”

“Oh, but I will!” Eddie uttered, and his eyes were cold, angry. “I will because she is an incredible person that never deserved what she got from you. She felt suffocated by this town, by you, by her family.”

Eddie took another step towards Jason and each word sounded like an accusation. “I know all about you, Jason. She told you about the pain she suffered under her parents, their criticism, their demands, the threat to her health that they were. She decided to confide in you because she thought you cared about her. And what did you do? You told her to be patient and understanding. You told her that this must have been their way to show love, that they were her parents after all and they would never hurt her. All the while she was starving herself for their approval. After that, she came to me for help.”

Hopper tilted his head. “To you?”

“Yes, to me. How bad do you think it must have been, to trust the local outcast instead of her perfect shiny boyfriend? She was afraid of everything and everyone, but the night her mother told her that she had a month to lose weight into her wedding dress when Chrissy barely ate enough to function, that was the last straw. She was so weak, so hungry. She told me that the stale cafeteria müsli bar I had in my van was the most delicious thing she’s ever had.

She knew some of my friends had moved out of Hawkins and wanted a starting point for her new life. Someone to crash with. I helped her plan everything, gave her my friend’s number and directions. I made sure I was on that bus with her, I went to Indy with her, helped her find the place. Then I went there to check on her again…because she trusted me. And I would never betray that trust.” Glaring at Jason, Eddie’s fists were clenching and unclenching as the realization sank in - that he finally found the cause for his untimely demise, his murderer. “But I never thought that you’d kill me for it, Carver.”

Steve expected many things, most likely a fight to break out, for Carver to deny everything, maybe for Hopper to step in and arrest him for…what exactly? But the one thing he never saw coming was Carver’s hands dropping, hanging limply by his sides. What was written on his face was pure shock.

“Chrissy…Chrissy’s alive?” he whispered.

Once again Eddie’s chuckle echoed in the church, but no matter how many times the sound was brought back, it held no joy, no amusement. It was bitter, so bitter that Steve’s insides felt like ice. “Wait. Fucking wait. I thought that all the shit you were saying about me killing Chrissy was just your way of punishing me for letting her escape your clutches. Are you really…are you telling me you really believed that I murdered her?”

Jason was sweating, shaking even more than he had been before. He looked like he was about to be sick, clutching his mouth and taking deep breaths through his nose. “What else was I supposed to think?” he whispered. “She said she’d be back the next day. You wouldn’t talk to me. She never…she never mentioned wanting to break up, how was I…”

“Of course she didn’t! She told me everything, Jason! How you shut down her attending college, for her own good of course. How you asked her parents to marry her even when she told you she wasn’t ready. And you have the fucking gall to question why she ran away instead of talking things through with a guy who bulldozed over everything she wanted? Who told her to keep starving herself to keep the peace?!”

That snapped Jason out of his stupor. “I loved her, you freak!” he shouted, his voice breaking at the last word. “As if you could ever understand that! She always understood that I wanted only the best for her, she knew it was the right choice when we discussed things. I would have made her happy! It would take only a while. We would appease her parents and she’d be free. She didn’t…she didn’t have to run away from me…”

Eddie’s anger dissipated, and he just seemed sad. Rubbing his temples, he let out a deep sigh. “Look, I can handle being murdered for doing the right thing, but being dead because you’re dumb and didn’t bother to think of other options? Because you’ve got a…murder tunnel vision? I’d be better off not knowing.”

Jason was staring at the floor, and Steve thought he saw tears in the corners of his eyes. “I never wanted to kill you,” he whispered. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped back towards him. “What? Care to explain this,” he gestured at his own face, his body, “because how do you fucking accidentally murder someone?”

Steve could have sworn he heard Chief Hopper mutter, “yeah, that’s what I’d also like to know.”

Still talking to the floor, Jason wrapped his arms around his middle. Cornered and finally forced to reveal the truth, he seemed much younger. “You wouldn’t talk to me! You’d always leave when I tried to question you, or you’d say that I’d better get used to Chrissy being gone because it wasn’t changing. So I thought I’d make you talk. I saw you going to those woods, and I followed you. I just wanted to knock you out. I wanted to restrain you, question you. But I…I hit you too hard. You just collapsed and…when I checked, you weren’t breathing.”

Steve felt sick, and from the look on her face, Nancy did too. She was taking short steps away from Jason, not daring to turn around. Robin, on the other hand, was petrified. Nancy had to tug on her hand several times to make her move.

But Jason wasn’t stopping them. He was full on crying now, sobbing into his palms. “I was so afraid. I tried to revive you, I swear. But you weren’t getting up, and I thought…I can’t get arrested, not when Chrissy’s still missing. I buried you there and told Andy I saw you leaving on that bus. He’d repeat anything I told him. I thought I’d confess once I found her, but…I never did. I couldn’t stop looking for her because if she wasn’t found, then what I did would have been for nothing. And now you’re telling me that’s exactly what it was. I killed someone for nothing.”

Apart from Jason’s lingering sobs, the church was quiet. Eddie stopped moving and stared at the stained glass window above the altar, at the tinted rays of sun that had no business looking so cheerful. “A mistake until the end,” he said flatly. “How fitting.”

Steve barely registered the steps behind him. Chief Hopper got up from his seat and, not unkindly, grasped Jason’s arm. “That sounded like a murder confession to me, Carver. You know what that means.”

Jason nodded through his tears, meeting Hopper’s eyes with something that hadn’t been there for years - acceptance. “Yeah. I do. I’m coming with you.”

There was a sudden rush of movement from everywhere - Jason’s parents throwing themselves towards Hopper and being blocked by his officers, Karen Wheeler rushing to Nancy and Robin, Mrs. Henderson and the Sinclairs ushering all the kids outside despite their vehement protesting…it was a lot. But Steve could only concentrate on one thing - Jason Carver stopping in front of Eddie.

“For all it’s worth…I’m sorry,” he said. Glancing towards Nancy who was in a joint embrace with Robin and Karen, he added, “to both of you.”

With his and the kids’ departure, the church finally went quiet.

Chapter 14 here

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie au #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jason carver #corpse bride au #corpse groom eddie #with this ring #steddie big bang 2023

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dominimoonbeam · 1 month

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To The Edge - 12

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: scifi romance, hijinks in space, rogues learning to trust, violence, blood, guns, death, explicit language, so much kidnapping,

Works organized and easily found over on the patreon. <3

TO THE EDGE - CHAPTER 12.

Rory didn’t like putting them back in the box, but he couldn’t ignore another call from the Solinohs. They probably already had another bounty out—this one on his head.

When the call connected across space there was a crackle of static and then a smooth voice demanding, “Where are you?”

He dropped his shoulders back and stared out the window at space, like he could possibly look across all that distance to this other man. “I have the cargo and I’m heading toward the drop off. Maybe a day off schedule, but you know how things go.”

The quiet was just long enough that he almost checked to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped. “There have been problems?”

Rory shook his head slowly, though a smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth when he thought that Stardust could be categorically described as a fucking problem. “No, no problems I can’t handle, thanks.”

Another pause. Maybe there was a delay? That happened sometimes with the sort of distance they were dealing with. The original bounty hadn’t been a direct call or communication—it had been a message sent out and available to anyone.

“Was there something else?” Rory chanced, wanting to hang up and deal with the primer in the crate behind him.

“Did you see it?” Genesis Solinoh asked.

For the first time since he saw the bounty and set out to retrieve Stardust, Rory felt a hitch of unease in his chest, an instinct that screamed—this was a mistake. Rory had great instincts. He wouldn’t have survived this long without them.

“…Did I see what? What are you talking about?”

Another pause, only now he was certain it wasn’t a delay.

Genesis was choosing his words. Rory had seen this Solinoh on broadcasts and recordings for gossip channels. He was primer royalty and though Rory hadn’t paid a great deal of attention, he was certain he had never seen the man hesitate.

“We’ll be able to meet you sooner than planned,” Genesis said, voice smooth and back to business.

Rory physically jerked a step back. Thank the stars there was no video feed to give that away. What was this guy talking about? “What? What do you mean you can meet sooner? The drop spot is on the edge…” The primers didn’t cross the edge. More specifically, the Solinohs did not cross the edge! It was exactly why they had sent out an open call to any mercenary and bounty hunter to go pick up their kidnapped cousin.

“Where are you now?”

“My coordinates?” Rory clumsily played for time. What was going on? He had Stardust and he was bringing them to the drop off. What more could they want? What reason did they have to venture beyond the map?

He jumped when Stardust thumped the box. They could have screamed and shouted, but they didn’t.

Rory reached out and tapped the control panel.

Call muted.

He exhaled hard, pulse racing. The last time a primer yacht had weighed into their side of space, it had been to destroy everything in sight for that dead kidnappee. Rory had never doubted that something like that, only much worse, would happen if Stardust wasn’t returned—but they were on their way!

“What the fuck…” He spun to the crate and was back to it in only two steps, unlatching and lifting the lid.

“Your family doesn’t come out here. Why would he… What did you do?”

They sat up, staring at him with wide eyes. “He’s going to kill you,” they blurted out like it was the end to a movie and they’d figured it out. “We have to run.”

Rory shook his head. “Why would he kill me? I’m just delivering you.”

They stood up, still staring at him, and he hated how much fear was welling in those eyes. They had been so stubborn and reckless, so wild, but it was all draining from them like blood from their lip earlier. “He thinks you know,” they whispered, voice shaking like something might hear.

Rory grabbed their arm. “He thinks I know what, Stardust?”

Their breath came fast and he imagined could feel their rising pulse in his fingertips on their arm. “If you help me, I’ll help you, I promise. I’ll get you out of this, just hang up. We can run and—”

“Oh, you want to make a deal with me now? I think it’s a little late for negotiation.”

“Bounty hunter,” Genesis all but growled into the call, waiting for those coordinates.

Rory turned toward the speaker, toward that voice that was so clearly a threat. He wanted to scoff or roll his eyes—he wanted to tell that rich boy to fuck right off—but he had seen what those rich kids and their ships could do.

An elbow connected hard with his stomach, doubling him over and knocking the air from his lungs.

From the watery corner of his vision, he saw Stardust jumping out of the crate and making a dash for the hall. “Shit. No, not again, Stardust!”

Their steps were unsteady, probably from being crammed in that crate for the better part of the day, but they practically threw themself forward.

He coughed and stumbled in their direction. “Get back here!”

They rounded a corner. Where the hell were they going? He almost hoped they locked themself in the storage room. It would solve a lot of his problems if he could just barricade them in for a few days and figure this mess out without the threat of being mutinied again.

The ship voice announced, Emergency pod activated.

“Woah! No!” Rory ran those last steps around the corner, catching them at the escape pod, the panel open and their fingers flipping switches. He hooked an arm around them and lifted them off their feet, turning to get them away from the controls. The pod was lit up and in some stage a preparation. He’d honestly never seen it do that before, since he’d never used it.

They screamed and kicked, trying to elbow him again but only jabbing at his arm, unable to get the angle and reach with their wrists bound together. He flipped down the switches and closed the plastic covering on the panel.

Emergency pod deactivated.

“Stop kicking! Stop. Just settle down,” he yelled.

They didn’t, but he could tell they weren’t trying to hurt him either. They were trying to get away. They screamed—really screamed—and he realized it was the first time he’d heard it. He’d seen them kidnapped twice, busted up and terrorized by this side of space, but he’d never seen them this upset. He’d barely seen them cry.

They kicked and arched, but he couldn’t let them go. They’d been ready to jump into an escape pod. His back hit the wall but he held on.

“If you don’t answer me,” Genesis warned, voice broadcast throughout the halls.

“Ship, drop the call.”

Call dropped.

They screamed again, this time behind clenched teeth, their whole body shaking in his arms like they were trying so hard to stop their own fit of panic.

He slid down the wall, until they were both on the floor, his legs sprawled and the primer planted between them, their back to his chest. “Stardust…” he rasped. He really could feel their pulse through their skin now. “What is this about?”

They dropped their head forward, hair in their face. “Let me go,” they said and he knew they didn’t mean his arms around them. A tendril of ink from that tattoo on their back peeked up from the collar of their shirt, reaching for their spine before fading away again. “Just let me go.”

“No, I’m not letting you go.” He was sure about that. “You just elbowed me and tried to jump into an escape pod with your hands still cuffed. Your plans are getting worse by the hour… At this rate, you really are going to throw yourself into open space.” He spoke slowly, giving them time to breathe. “…But…That begs the question why. You’re obviously scared.”

“I’m not,” they said automatically, voice low and another deep breath shuddering out of them.

Rory laughed darkly. “Yes, you are.”

They shook their head, swallowing. “I’m not scared.”

“Yes, you—” he stopped and closed his eyes, teeth clicking before he said, “Stardust, please, don’t start this again… I’ve got my arms around you. I can feel your pulse racing.”

His bounty didn’t rebut.

“I’m starting to get the idea that your cousin isn’t going to pay up if I deliver you,” he thought aloud.

They sighed. “No. He’s not. Tansy might have but not Gen.”

Rory took a breath himself, letting that sink in. The last place he wanted to be was on the wrong side of the Solinohs. “Okay… So, you’re in deep and you really were trying to save me?”

They twisted to the side to look back at him. “Of course.”

“Huh…”

“I’m not lying—”

He shook his head, that wasn’t what he meant. “No, it’s just that you’re really bad at crime. Which is weird because you’re from the most notorious crime family in the galaxy. You’d think you’d be good at this.”

Stardust blinked and then coughed up a laugh before they could help it. “Yeah. I guess I am… I’ve been kidnapped three times in the last week.”

Rory laughed too and then sighed. “I should have just left you with the mercs.” It was true, but there was no version of the universe where he would have done it. “I should have reset my ship controls and hightailed it out of there. You are a magnet for trouble.”

Stardust exhaled, leaning back against his chest and staring up at the escape pod. “If I’m trouble then—”

“What does that make me?” he finished their question, looking at them in his arms. His smile dropped because he knew exactly what this made him. “It makes me trouble, Stardust. And I’m not letting you get away until I get paid.” There was no way he’d let them jump into space to save anyone, let alone him, and there was no way he could hand them over to Genesis Solinoh either.

#to the edge #ride or die in space #sci fi romance #own work #audio script to novel #the adventures of stardust and cosmic #dominimoonbeam #clover down #<3 #romance #writblr

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yasmindifference · 2 years

Note

headcanons for a magic au?

(my dear, I hope you have a very forgiving definition of “headcanon”...this became more not!fic than anything else lmao)

1. Tim comes from a long line of sorcerers and is expected to uphold the legacy. Unfortunately, he keeps getting kicked out of the elite magic schools his parents stick him in over the tiniest bits of experimentation! The fancier the school, the more uptight and traditionalist, unfortunately.

(Tim calls it experimenting. The administrators at his last three schools called it "twisting the laws of nature" and "risking every life on the East Coast.")

2. There’s still a Batman in some form, but magic means Bruce has been able to keep it very, very quiet. (Most people in Gotham think there’s some kind of multi-layer curse on the city...provoking more crime, but also meaning that at random, criminals will suffer worse than their victims.) Hence Tim’s experimentation---he didn’t have Batman to hyperfixate on, so there’s not as much keeping his genius mind occupied. Why not see just how far he can go with magic?

3. Jason doesn’t die, but he does come close. Not in the same circumstances (none of the Rogues have any idea they’re being thwarted by a guy in a bat costume and a kid in green shorts), but yeah, Joker nearly kills him. Only thing is, Jason’s got magic. A lot of magic. And he was living on the streets in desperate conditions when he should have been learning the basics of controlling that magic. As a result, his use of magic is very rooted in both instinct and self-defense.

So: Jason realizes Joker’s gonna kill him. Jason’s magic says heck that.

Joker is a little smear of green and red on the warehouse floor by the time Batman arrives.

4. Bruce doesn’t blame Jason for killing Joker - it really wasn’t Jason’s fault - but the situation does make clear that Jason needs serious, dedicated training, more than the casual lessons Bruce has been giving him. Problem is, Jason’s got even more trauma now than he did before, and putting him close together with a magic-wielding adult he doesn’t know/trust is likely to end in disaster.

Fortunately, there’s an easy solution: make sure there’s another kid around while Jason’s getting trained. He’s a protective soul and will keep an instinctive hold on his magic to avoid harming the innocent. Conveniently, Bruce just recently heard all about Jack and Janet Drake’s struggles with their precocious, apparently-determined-to-get-kicked-out-of-every-school son.

Solution: put Tim and Jason in private tutoring together.

5. Jason does still end up attacking their tutor. But, in his defense, it’s just a very gentle sleep spell, sent entirely accidentally when the tutor walks in on him kissing Tim. Tim doesn’t even notice and the tutor wakes up before anyone else finds out, it’s fine.

#meme response #magic au #jaytim #ladytauria #we're really stretching the definition of headcanon here lmao

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azol-otl · 2 years

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While I know that Jason interacts with Harvey Dent in Task Force Z and that he had arcs with Black Mask and Penguin in rhato, I wish that dc would explore what he thinks of these men more thoroughly and with respect or at least references to his pre-flashpoint history with them.

Because one of Jason’s big points for why killing would be the better option is the amount of bodies afterwards is not? Why are the lives of innocents worth less than their murderers or their hypothetical redemption?

Jason saved Black Mask’s life as Robin. He is the reason Sionis was alive to do everything he did. It would be so interesting to see that fact eat Jason up inside. That because he saved this man’s life, Sionis was able to become someone that ruins lives whether they be his clientele (which Catherine would have been) or his workers (which Willis would have been). Sionis is basically one of the biggest threats to kids like Jason was, but also one of the biggest threats to Park Row and from what we’ve seen he’s made himself a pillar of Gotham’s underworld, meaning that he can’t just be killed because the fallout would be catastrophic.

With Penguin, well the story was retconned and will never be touched again because it paints Bruce is a negative light, but back in the day he used to just be a jewel thief. None of this organized crime business he mostly stole stuff. And at one point he actually tried to go straight. And Bruce didn’t believe him despite Jason arguing that Penguin was genuinely turning a new leaf. Instead he gets thrown into jail and it’s kind of fucked up in the way comics are and after Jason’s death he along with several other rogues end up taking a level in depravity and competence. So we could honestly have this be Penguin’s “Then Let Me Be Evil” point. We could have him be both a reason why Bruce hangs so hard onto redemption (because he didn’t believe someone before and they came out worse) but also as a symbol to Jason about how the system doesn’t work and was never designed to work. Because Penguin came out worse and for a long time basically flaunts the fact that he’s a criminal with a thin veneer of legality that works because of his money.

And with Harvey, well. Harvey is Bruce’s friend. A very close friend that Bruce should remember every time they are clashing. Bruce remembers Harvey Dent the district attorney. He remembers a good person. Not only that but Harvey’s been pretty consistent in the fact that he very much needs help. He’s had a couple of arcs across different media where he is ‘cured’ (which is its own can of worms) and how in the end it didn’t matter because he became Two-Face again. And this should infuriate Jason because Harvey murdered Willis. Harvey is one of the reasons Jason’s life sucked so much! Without Willis he and Catherine didn’t have enough money to survive! Even if Jason didn’t like Willis or if the abuse retcons stick, he knows that without Willis they couldn’t survive. And Harvey had him killed! Harvey should be Bruce’s longshot, the man Bruce never gives up on, and he should be a symbol of Bruce’s selfishness to Jason because how many people ended up the same as him because of Harvey.

(Side Note: I love how when Jason says “Only him” referring to the Joker, he brings up Harvey who caused a lot of grief, Penguin who got worse in the system, and Crane who doesn’t even see people as people. Like these guys are obviously not good and Jason’s like, “Not even these horrible people causing suffering, just the clown.”)

On the other side I want to see Jason interact with Killer Croc and Ivy as well.

Croc’s one of those characters who’s actually been treated pretty nicely after flashpoint and while that is wild it could also be used. We know he has chilled out since his debut (though is he still a cannibal? I’m really not sure). He’s canonically Roy’s AA sponsor (which again, wild as shit. But even with how Roy’s been handled I love the idea that he was at such a low point he was trying to commit “Suicide by Croc” which honestly feels like something vigilantes do (continue to fight with little care to themselves and hope someone takes them out in a way they’d still be viewed as a hero for)). He has been drafted into the Suicide Squad (which again, another way to show that the system doesn’t work because good lord is Task Force X so many human right violations [but also something I can see the actual U.S. government doing]). So he’s killed a ton of people but he’s also pretty much “Out of my territory and you’re fine”, saved someone close to Jason, and generally not in Jason’s way. Like how would Croc file into Jason’s morality? Does it even matter?

And with Ivy, well... She’s right. Corporations are absolutely destroying the planet, and if anything Gotham’s like one of the worst at it considering all the weird chemicals and shit. Like the way Ivy goes about it is both wrong and absurdly incompetent, but she has the right idea. No Man’s Land has been retconned but the event was kind of Ivy’s first steps into anti-villain as far as I’m aware of (until Harley Quinn exploded in popularity and just absorbed her into her sphere). How does Jason act with someone who does bad shit but if reigned back a little, would cause way more good than bad in the long run. Or does he only care about the ‘right now’?

Uhhh, this was really long and consists of mostly word vomit but tldr; Jason should interact with the rogues besides the clowns and everyone adjacent to them because they either tie into his morals or history and that’d be cool.

#Man this is a mess #I didn't expect to just word vomit everything I just wanted to see more Harvey-Jason content and remembered about Penguin and Black Mask #And then I thought about Croc and Ivy #He'd probably have an interesting relationship with Freeze too I think because of the whole 'Sacrificing everything I am for them' thing #What rogue/hero interactions that we don't see/don't see enough do you think would be cool #Except for the clowns. I'm sick of them #Jason Todd #Roman Sionis #Harvey Dent #Oswald Cobblepot #Pamela Isley #Waylon Jones #Don't 'uhm actually' me I will. not. care.

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woodsfae · 7 months

Text

Babylon 5 s03e11 Ceremonies of Light and Fire table of contents - previous episode

It opens with a neat shot of Ivanova’s face in a porthole, backs away to show how tiny it is against a fraction of the ship, then back in. Love little things like that when they’re sprinkled in. Also, really smooth use of CGI there.

Garibldi’s arm is broken and, to my surprise, Ivanova rubs his back supportively when he talks about not wanting to be in a cast!

Delenn and Lennier are working hard.

“Lennier, you still haven’t told me what you think of all this.” “Opinion doesn’t enter into it. What is, is. Prophecy said one day we would unite with the other half of our soul in a war with the ancient enemy. It is what we have done.”

It’s amusing to see a mystic that’s so pragmatic. But Lennier hold multitudes. He’s a complicated, serene little guy. I just wanna. Squish him. In a nice way.

Not sure who was almost just attacked. Marcus? Probably Marcus. He’s from the Mars colony and is happy they seceded from Earthgov.

Sheridan is back in a dress uniform for the funeral of the crew who died defending B5 last episode. It’s surprisingly few, and only seems to have human names. I do hope we get a recounting of the Narns who died as well.

Does Londo holographically record all his meetings? Amazing. Love the tiny hologram to shame Lord Refa from Londo, who should be feeling a lot more shame than he is. So funny - legitimately funny seeing Londo try to shame Lord Refa into doing the right thing. When did shame ever work on Londo? Oh, never mind. He’s backing up the shame with poison. That’s a much better insurance policy.

Londo seems to be feeling emboldened by his meeting with Lady Morella, third wife of the late Emperor, and seer of renown. Since he made a series of Less Idiotic Decisions and Delenn wants to invite him to the healing ceremony it looks like we might be at the beginning of Londo’s redemption arc!

Ahhh, the would-be-murderers are Nightwatch who went undetected, and one of them is a total murderous psychopath who “once took seven days to kill a Minbari,” and from the sound of it, enjoyed slowly dismembering a living person and would love to do it to Delenn! Fucking creepy! I don’t like that! To the Nightwatch person who said the Minbari are weird about their leaders and might take it personal if they kill Delenn…yeah. Maybe reconsider your life choices.

This dive bar people have been ending up since season one is, I have just realized, one of the places where B5 is actually high fantasy. People slink around in dark hooded cloaks, in leather bondage gear, with strange costumes and bandoliers slung around themselves…it’s the fucking tavern everyone starts their quest in when they play DnD.

The station’s base setting is as a snarky, New Jersey-accented AI? That’s actually quite fun.

Londo, don’t dish out the snark if you can’t take it. And also, be more grateful that after you expressed that you missed Delenn a few episodes ago, that she invited you to something!

Something about Londo brings out my urge to lecture directly to the character. Probably because he could use a good talking-to.

Tragic Marcus backstory! It seems he didn’t grow up on Mars colony, since it was destroyed, or perhaps it was a single dome? He doesn’t want to do the ceremony, since it requires giving something up, and he’s lost his friends, family, and home. Delenn says, wisely, that he must give up his grip on the past, and how he uses it to hurt himself.

I knew there was depth behind those devil-may-care green eyes. He’s so rogue-coded.

The Nightwatch successfully kidnapped Delenn! And Mr “I like to cut people up while they’re alive” does not like being told that she’s faced worse than him. He wants to be the worst thing anyone’s ever faced.

Wow, Delenn really got to him! Her psychological warfare game is on point.

The aftermath of this barfight isn’t doing anything to convince me that Marcus isn’t rogue-coded.

Lennier: “I see they trained you well back home.” Marcus: “I’m not repressed anymore.”

B5 is a comedy, actually. That's the real quote. And then Lennier goes, basically…. “Me neither. I love Delenn!!” Me too, guy.

He’s her knight! In a scholarly way! He’s a chivalric ideal. Very sweet. Very high fantasy of him to confess his love of a Lady to a rogue in a tavern. Me too, guy.

The senior staff: we need more info Marcus: I got u. Level 14. Senior staff: how do u know that Marcus, hiding his bloody knuckles: a kind stranger told me

Are they having a shootout in the fusion reactor core? Fucking ballsy, as is Captain Lennan successfully throwing down with his hands tied behind his back. And Delenn jumping in front of a knife for John??? Wow, I got 20 credits on John not killing him. Ope, I win.

“I can no longer imagine my world without you in it. I don’t know exactly when or how it happened, but I’m glad it did.”

OK, so I was having feelings about everyone bringing their uniforms and confessions to Delenn…and I was tearing up over Susan’s “I think I loved Talia,” and when Dr Franklin came in, Partner said, “I’m addicted to speed,” and then Franklin said “I think I have a problem,” and that shook me right out of my sadz with a guffaw. I miss Talia! Bring Talia back! I don't believe she's gone for good. I was promised. p r o m i s e d . a kiss.

Nifty new uniforms! For a moment I was almost correct with my joking prediction that they were going to run around in civvies till humanity is reunited.

If Londo and G'Kar had some to the ceremony, did Delenn have new kicks for them too?

Next!

#woodsfae b5 #delenn #john sheridan #susan ivanova

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dairy-farmer · 2 years

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Because I love angst....

There’s some fics where Tim tries to help Jason to kill him so that he can rejoin the family, where he assumes Jason and the rest of the family won’t miss him and he is passively suicidal.

Usually, it goes that he’s mistaken. I want a world where’s he not.

Jason brutally murders Tim in Titan’s Tower...maybe even worse. (R*pe) Then, he destroys the body, and sets off to rejoin the batfam.

Bruce and Dick, are, predictably, overjoyed to have Jason back. They don’t know he killed Tim—he’s gone missing, but nobody really cares too much. Why should they? It’s a miracle. Jason’s back.

Sure, Kon and Bart care, but they die soon after, in manners similar to canon.

Time goes on. Jason tells them the censored story. They weep and hug him. All is well. He doesn’t regret killing the imposter.

But it starts to feel a little strange, because he thought he’d have to try a little harder, if you know what he means. Bruce takes over a month to actually open a case regarding Tim. Nobody opens it for weeks at a time. No one is really *looking*— it seems they’re content to let it lie.

Tim’s school eventually reports his drop in attendance. The Drakes take a month to return home. They pay off the police to keep the investigation hush-hush— Drake Industries might not be able to tank the bad publicity if it gets out that their son is likely dead due to their negligence.

They leave again, for Peru, or Ecuador, or Suriname. Jason can’t keep it straight.

He kept one trophy. A single tooth, from the back of the mouth. He had knocked it free with a crowbar sometime during the killing. He keeps it in a false bottom in his sock drawer. There’s nothing else. The acid made sure of that.

Meanwhile, he gets used to the evolution in operations down in the bat cave. There’s a few new rogues, a few new allies— Cass is pretty cool, he supposes. The bar computer is a lot better than he remembers. It’s a bit like the internet before and after google, the difference is so stark— messy, poorly formatted files are now neatly saved and backed-up and cross-referenced.

He asks Oracle about it. She mentions it being the work of— she pauses here, not wanting to say ‘the previous robin’.

Eventually, she says, “The Substitute”, even though Jason isn’t Robin anymore, is working on his own costume and identity with the help of his family. Red Hood is a dusty secret, not entirely MIA, but operated remotely so as to not draw the suspicion of his family.

It’s the first time he ever feels something about the boy that isn’t rage. It’s something else, gray and shriveled in his gut. He doesn’t know a word for it, and he doesn’t need to. He pushes it aside.

But he’s always had an addictive personality. A week later, he’s the only one in the cave. The bat computer just sits there, calling his name in a voice he doesn’t want to recognize. He heard it before, sobbing mostly.

He finds the old ID. When he logs in, the setup takes several minutes to load, which is strange, because everything is so much faster now, loading in milliseconds.

There’s files. More than Jason can even fathom. Case files, photos, and video footage from the Robin mask. Even a few AI chess-games with game times going into the months-long territory, differently coded ‘players’ wining or loosing matches against each other into perpetuity, with nobody left to witness them.

There’s a lot of side projects like that. They’re usually quite strange, technically complex, and Jason slowly realizes as he pores over them in between watching the trackers for Bruce and Dick’s return, bloody brilliant.

Weirdly, it just breeds a sort of awe in his chest. No anger.

And there’s the footage. It takes him bags full of high-storage flash-drives to get all of it. He watches it alone in his room. Tim Drake in black and white security footage in the cave, quietly cleaning up after Batman or sitting hunched at the bat computer— looking so small, hunched over with his legs tucked in like he’s cold.

Footage from his Robin encounters— he’s quiet, speaks far more rarely than Jason or Dick had. He’s got this sweet, soft little voice that Jason actually finds quite relaxing. Sometimes he mutters to himself when he’s solving a problem faster than Jason can believe, always sounding a little unsure of his own brilliance.

Jason’s always had an addictive personality. It’s why he killed Tim, in a way. He just gets obsessed.

It happens all over again, in reverse.

He starts seeing Tim in his dreams, in the corner of his vision when he’s tired. He doesn’t speak, and when Jason reaches for him, he’s always drifting away, his expression blank.

He runs out of footage. The dreams turn into nightmares. He’s running, screaming, crying, begging for a companion in a vast void, and there’s Tim, off in the distance, hunched over., never able to see or hear him.

Sometimes, he finds Tim, after wandering in the rocky hellscape for hours. Or, what’s left of him. It’s never a skeleton, always a fresh corpse— mangled almost beyond recognition if not for the tatters of red and green. It’s a familiar sight.

Back when Tim was reported missing to the Police, somebody— probably Dick— was sent over to the Drake manor to collect all of Tim’s things, hopefully clearing anything incriminating.

Jason checks the evidence storage. There’s long rows of it, shelves leading into the darkness of the vast cave tunnels. It takes him several nights to find the sealed plastic box.

DRAKE MANOR it is labeled in neat, blocky letters. In the notes section of the item sheet, it mentions a loose floorboard and a false panel in the wall. It’s clinical. The paper is damp and dusty.

When he opens it, he finds notebooks, stuffed with sticky notes and yellowed with use, and more than that, *photos*. His heart nearly stops, desperate for a new hit of his newest drug.

When he begins to look through them, he has to sit down, because— because they’re *old*. Really old.

He stares at a photo of himself as Robin, silhouetted proudly by the Gotham moon. It’s a great shot, perfect in composition and and coloring. He can’t imagine how long it took Tim to get it.

He couldn’t have been older than 11. He pictures the School photo-day records he had dug up, that even smaller, paler Tim, with his shy, gap-toothed smile.

His hand curls into a fist. There’s something wet in his eyes. For the first time, he allows himself to acknowledge its more than the dust.

He’s in love with Tim Drake, he thinks. He thinks it again. It’s stronger each time, more and more sure, until it’s a crescendo pumping in every inch of his body. It’s like the hot twin of the Pit, but somehow *more*. He can barely stand it.

He sends Bruce a note over the Bat-Chat about the status of the missing ‘neighbor’, as they tend to refer to him.

Bruce seems surprised he asked, and then reassures him that he always viewed Jason as the proper Robin. That boy didn’t mean anything to him, he says.

He gets an even more flippant response from Dick, punctuated by an octopus-hug that Jason has to excuse himself from to go vomit in the bathroom.

Because he knows that. He knows Tim didn’t mean anything to them. He can see it, in the old footage. In the way they treated him like a servant at best, a crutch, and a scapegoat at the worst.

He sees the shake of his skinny little limbs as he hauls himself out the back door in the snow back to the empty Drake Estate, his bruised ribs trembling in the cold.

He sees the glitzy press conference recently held by Drake Industries, where the only mentioned of their missing son was a token used to bolster their story of ‘resilience in the face of challenges’, garnering more donations to their nascent technology fund.

He knows Tim didn’t mean anything to them. He didn’t mean anything to anybody.

All alone.

Something in Jason curdles for the second time. This time, he needs no pit to grant him rage.

(Im going to continue this, but my phones dying lol. Expect a contusion In the coming days, but Id love to hear ur thoughts!!!!)

tim!!!😢😢😢😢 the fact that no one cares that tim died, no one looks into it at all!! jason slowly falling in love with tim through the little things about him that were left behind!

that line!! where jason realizes that both dick and bruce along with tim's parents don't care to know what happened to the boy that jason killed and whose body he destroyed. "He knows Tim didn’t mean anything to them. He didn’t mean anything to anybody."

😢😢😢😢😢

fics where tim gets the short end of the stick just hit so much harder because he's my fav and seeing him suffering!!! tim hasn't even suffered for long here and he's not present to see how unmourned he was but it's just so tragic all the same and heartwrenching!! that the only person genuinely upset by tim's death is the person who killed him.

and you feel for jason, despite the fact that he killed tim who was innocent. you really feel for him because as his state of mind becomes more steady you can see how the regret and horror slowly seeps in. he's being haunted by the horrible guilt and disgusted realization that even if he confessed and told what he did...nothing would happen. part of jason is still that boy, that robin who fought for justice and now here he is, the person who comitted a heinous act that can't be taken back and it's just so horrendous. because he didn't just stop at killing tim, he erased every bit of evidence of what happened to him, he destroyed his body- there is no trace or bit of tim drake left in the world aside from the few words he left behind.

and the absolutely gut-wrenching tragedy of jason falling for tim, of having been probably the only person to care for tim but that care coming too late to save tim.

it's just so sad!!!!! 😢😢😢😢 i'm happy you wrote and shared it but it really is the most angsty thing i think i've read in a while!!!

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

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andorerso · 1 year

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I sure would like to know more about the WIP just called "Jyn leaves" because I have the feeling that ANGST is incoming.

oh there's SO MUCH angst... tons of angst. probably my most painful story if I'm being honest 😭 it's playing with one of my favorite tropes, thinking the other is dead, but with a twist

it's post-Scarif, Jyn and Cassian survive and tentatively begin a relationship, and while it's the happiest either of them have been in a long while, it's not exactly easy. they both have their own stuff to overcome and deal with, trust and abandonment issues, problems with communication etc... it's not perfect but they're trying and it's working so far.

until it isn't. Jyn ends up succumbing to her fears and insecurities (she's gonna need a catalyst that pushes her into this but I haven't figured out the exact details of that yet) and she ends up leaving the Alliance with only a brief note to explain that she's leaving and he shouldn't come looking for her. basically she just panics, and running seems like the safest, best option to spare herself the inevitable heartbreak.

except of course it doesn't, at all. because leaving is harder than she expected, and she regrets it almost immediately but coming back is really difficult as well. she agonizes over it for a long while, fearing that people (read: Cassian and the rest of the rogues) will hate for leaving like that, that they won't want her back, or perhaps worst of all, that they're happy she left and better off without her. for a while she convinces herself that it'd be better for them if she stayed gone, but deep down she knows in her heart that she made a mistake and the only way to make things right is to go back and face them and hope she can fix things. she's not sure she'll be welcomed back, but she has to at least try because not knowing what could have been would drive her mad.

so eventually, maybe like two months later, she finds her way back to the Alliance and prepares to face her family, and especially Cassian. except he's nowhere to be found. and at first, she thinks he's avoiding her which was to be expected. but when Bodhi comes to see her and she asks after Cassian, he gets really quiet and grim and somberly informs her that he was killed in action a few weeks ago. and Jyn realizes that she waited too long, missing her chance to make things okay and she'll have to live with that regret forever...

anyway, Cassian is eventually found alive ofc, but it's a difficult journey before that, and even after that. I love pain, what can I say? one of my favorite painful tropes is leaving things on a bad note with a loved one before their death, as horrible as that is, because I think the regret and guilt is fascinating to explore. but I'm also too much of a softie to make it permanent, and as I said I love the thinking the other is dead trope, AND the exes trope, so basically this is just very self-indulgent for me.

I actually have a snippet for you too (set shortly after Jyn finds out about Cassian and Kay confronts her)

“What?” Jyn spits out, clenching her fists but resisting the urge to throw herself at the droid and begin pummeling his metal chassis. The only one who would get hurt is her, but maybe that’s what's so appealing about it. “What, Kay? What could you possibly say to me that would make me feel even worse than I already do?”

There’s a pause. Kay stares at her, unaffected by her outburst.

“Cassian loved you,” the droid answers evenly. He doesn’t sound judgmental, for once, or angry or spiteful. He says it as a simple fact and that hurts more than his hatred would have. “Even after you left.”

Jyn’s face contorts in rage, and she snarls at him, a second from breaking down. “Get out.”

#replies #mosylu #rebelcaptain #jyn leaves #she's going through it in this one rip #hope that was sufficient angst for you

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lizhly-writes · 1 year

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hoooo okay, i’ve learned one thing and that thing is i can absolutely be counted upon to write a tumblr post when i should be doing something else. it’s like a terrible, terrible treat for me.

today’s procrastination tumblr post: a mdzs au, because man have i been lost in the sauce.

so. let’s start with mo xuanyu.

mo xuanyu and his cultivation skills: well, they can’t have been very good, if he’s still here at his shitty aunt’s place, could they. if he was good, he could have taken off to be a rogue cultivator; if he was good, he could at least stop his cousin from so badly beating the shit out of him. his life has gotten fucked six ways to sunday and maybe it’s depression and maybe it’s madness and maybe it’s helplessness in the face of an inevitable march to failure, but either fucking way? he can’t do shit about it.

but you don’t need to be good at cultivation to be good at demonic cultivation. is he good at demonic cultivation? irrelevant. doesn’t matter. all he needs to be is good at one thing; all he needs is a steady hand and a supply of blood, and he’ll wring out every drop of it, everything he has for this one ritual. he sinks his fingers in his own resentment and drags it out, shoves it in every carefully painted stroke on the ground.

that beautifully nightmarish array he’s drawn out? he lights that fucker up.

it fucking kills him.

good. correct. this is only right. this is the expected outcome.

except it isn’t, because after that he opens his eyes.

it takes him years to truly comprehend exactly how he’s fucked up. this is not because he is stupid; this is because he’s a baby. his brain doesn’t have enough storage, enough processing power, enough focus. you know how it is.

that’s right. mo xuanyu is reincarnated.

this isn’t what he wanted, and once the full force of exactly what has happened to him hits him, he bursts out crying. great heaving sobs like his heart’s been torn out, like the world’s wronged him. a child’s body isn’t good at emotional regulation. you know how it is.

he is quickly found, quickly held, quickly soothed, because in this life, he is not an unwanted bastard. he is a child born of love; his mother presses kisses to his forehead and his father sings him lullabies, and it has been a long time since he has been this warm.

he thinks of the revenge he was aiming for. did he successfully summon the yiling patriarch? no way to know for sure whether this reincarnation of his was an intended side effect or a fuckup of such monumental proportions that literally all it did was kill him.

that said: it’s not like he can do anything about it, because he’s a literal fucking child. an unusually intelligent child, because he has the memories of an adult man, but a child, nonetheless. he has to set aside revenge for now. key words: for now. we can’t forget this is the guy who fully intended to sacrifice his own soul to kill his family super fucking hard. it takes a certain amount of resolve to do that, and that can’t be so easily brushed away.

but for now, he is a wanted child, held carefully close, to be protected and cherished. his mother tells him that he takes after his father, with his quiet, serious nature; his father tells him that he takes after his mother, with his intelligence and cleverness. he makes new memories, full of laughter and life and light. he is loved. there is so much love that he feels drunk with it.

this is perhaps the happiest he’s ever been. the future looks so wonderful, so bright.

so of course, it doesn’t last.

his father dies and his mother dies and mo xuanyu ends up on the streets, and this is worse, this is worse than his old life, this is exactly the fate he was trying to avoid back when everyone called him mo xuanyu, except now he’s a little kid and he can’t do shit.

at least he’s not being cursed at and run off for being cutsleeve lunatic. it’s such a little thing, though. is it worth it? is it worth living?

not at all.

but his mother. his father. they wanted him to live well, they wanted him to live happily. even if he can’t accomplish that much... he should at least make the attempt, shouldn’t he?

(and doesn’t he want to see if he managed to summon the yiling patriarch after all? doesn’t he want to see if the mo family all died in the end?)

so he tries. he tries and he tries and he tries. what’s the best way to get food? who can he steal from to get what he needs? who does he need to run from, who can he run to?

if he cries just right, if he laughs just right, if he smiles just right, if he lives for just long enough --

he gets good at it. the right kind of demeanor, just the right kind of pitiful face to get coins thrown in his begging bowl. one day he gets it perfect, he gets more coin in one throw than ever before from a rich man, and he thinks: I’m going to eat big tonight.

“thanking honored sir for his generosity!” he says, making sure to look the right kind of grateful, the right kind of pathetic.

the rich man smiles back at him. “it’s nothing,” he says. and then: “what’s your name?”

it’s a bit of an odd question. no one has wanted to know mo xuanyu’s name for a while. still, there’s no harm in giving it, so mo xuanyu goes to answer.

do you know what name i’m going to put in his mouth? for all that he still half-thinks of himself as mo xuanyu, his loved mother and father gave him a name, too.

“i’m wei ying!”

#mdzs #modao zushi #mo xuanyu #mxy #liz rants #everything #mo xuanyu should have paid more attention in history class #hey has anyone written this idea before?#it feels like it's probably been written before

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sophiainspace · 2 months

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Chapter 9: You Want The Truth (Well Are You Listening?)

Iris West/Leonard Snart (now with bonus coldflash side ship because the characters are in charge and apparently I do not make the rules)

This chapter was a bit of a struggle, but I hope it's good enough!

Chapter summary:

While Len seeks some advice about Iris from her best friend, Iris learns some surprising things about Len from his partner.

And then Iris hits breaking point.

Chapter snippet (in which Iris requires help with a mouse in her kitchen and Barry sends a Rogue):

Iris gives the phone screen her best unimpressed look. “You have been spending way too much time with those Rogues.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Iris finds herself without a comeback. “Fine! But only Rathaway, okay? He’s a pretty reasonable person.”

“No substitute Rogues," Barry agrees. "Got it.”

“Absolutely none,” Iris says firmly.

And so it is that Mick Rory is standing in her kitchen ten minutes later, aiming an honest-to-god flamethrower at the base of her cabinet. So much for the reasonable Rogues.

Iris sighs. “Please don’t set the house on fire.”

“Ain’t planning on it,” Mick says. And sure, his voice is nice and even, but his eyes are burning with the ferocity of a supernova, and that’s really not ideal.

Iris gets down from the chair. “Put the heat gun down, Mick. We’re gonna do this the old fashioned way.”

Mick does, in fact, lower the heat gun, but only so he can narrow his eyes at her. “Thought you were afraid of mice?”

Iris manages to approach the cabinet with what should look like only a little caution. “It’s barely a phobia. I’ve handled worse.”

“This week.” Mick sounds almost thoughtful.

“Right. I’m getting used to facing down scrawny little rodents with murder in their eyes. Anyway, you’re the one who’s going to catch this thing. I’ll just tempt it out.” Iris grabs a couple of crackers from the box on the counter. “Ready?”

Mick’s still squinting at her. “I ain’t killing the mouse. Not if you make me hold it. I’m gonna get attached.”

“You can keep it as a pet, for all I care,” Iris says, crouched on the floor. “There. The crackers are in position.”

They both take a step back.

With barely a flicker of gray whisker, the cracker is gone.

Mick makes an impressed sound. "You think mice got powers from the particle accelerator?”

“God, I hope not.” Iris throws down a couple more crackers. “You’re an experienced guy, Mick. Tell me you know how to make a mousetrap.”

Mick grunts. “Maybe. Got a shoebox?”

It’s a little surreal to find herself sitting at her kitchen table with a Rogue stroking a mouse in a Vagabond shoebox lined with toilet paper a few minutes later. Fortunately, Iris is getting used to weird. “Are you gonna give it a name?”

Incredibly, the feral little thing is visibly relaxing under Mick’s surprisingly gentle touch. “He’s clever,” Mick says quietly. “Could call him Rat-away.”

Iris snorts. “He’s a mouse. And don’t tell your fellow Rogue that, or maybe you won’t live to call it anything at all.”

He actually laughs at that. “Tell you a secret. The Rogues intimidate me too.”

“They don’t—” Iris sighs. “Rathaway doesn’t intimidate me.”

Mick replaces the hole-pocked lid on the shoebox, and turns that squint on Iris again. “He misses you." There's a beat of quiet. As if trying to be helpful, Mick adds, "Not Rathaway. Snart.”

Iris takes a sip of the cold coffee she fixed herself before the mouse incident. “He knows where to find me.”

Mick snorts. “You two say that a lot. You’re still both avoiding the other one.”

“I’m not avoiding him. I’m just… it’s complicated.”

“I wouldn’t understand, right?” he says, in a tone Iris has never heard from Mick before.

Iris meets his intense gaze. “What are you trying to say, Mick?”

#I hope you're all enjoying my pain as I keep 'writing' this utter car crash of a fic where the characters are in charge #an honest thief #iris west #leonard snart #ft. mick rory #coldwest #coldflash #(whoops I slipped and coldflash)#also sorry for the sad in this chapter #it will be okay by the end!#my fic

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whalehouse1 · 1 year

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The Red Hood Problem (for me):

This is more for the comic than the show since I think the movie did a much better job at Bruce than the comic did.

Jason is now a murderer after this comic, this part is fine since he can still operate in Gotham having that be true (Cass, Jean-Paul, Damian, Tim, etc.) but the way they went about it doesn’t work for me. His resurrection has him come back, go on a frenzy and kill some of Ra’s’ men before he flees into the desert. Now where his mind is at here is debated, but if he survived the desert he must have been “sane” at one point. Or you like Lost Days and the Al Ghuls just picked him back up to train him, which that’s a different issue I have with Batman comics. He then gets back to Gotham and ruthlessly kills drug lords, pimps and other such criminals as it’s the only way to protect Gotham. This is where my first problem comes into play. Jason’s father was a criminal who died due to Two-Face and his mother (Catherine, that other woman can burn for all I care) died of a drug overdose. So him coming from that background had to be retconned so he wouldn’t go “oh extreme poverty and desperation can lead people to do things they wouldn’t consider otherwise”, but instead go to the classic, “my dad beat me so it’s okay that I became an orphan”, because then he’d have to be shown recognizing that killing people could result in leaving people behind much worse off. They try to do this in Urban Legends but Jason just seems a little off character there, especially knowing Tyler’s mom might not make it along with him just being a lack of impulse control personified. Then on top of them retconning (read gaslighting) his parents, they also keep trying to rewrite him as this super grumpy Robin who just would attack without thought. But we have the original Jason stories, he was rough around the edges, sure, but he wasn’t cruel or nasty or more violent than other Robins. And that’s what makes Red Hood so tragic, is he lost his joy and became resentful instead. He still kept his kindness in well-written stories, because he’s the same as Cass when it comes to bleeding hearts. If they can’t save someone they go full on Bruce moping mode. But nope, now we have Jason who couldn’t care less about saving people, he just wants to sow discord. And I know it was all to get the Joker out of Arkham, which just shows Jason as stupid (he isn’t but they love putting the stupid Robin label on him and Steph) since if he waited a day or two, Joker would be back on the streets. Then we get to my final issue, aside from Bruce not wanting to kill Joker but having no issue slicing Jason’s throat. It completely invalidates so much of Bruce’s decision to not kill the Joker that the hypocrisy leaks through the page and destroys any reason Jason could hold onto the “He didn’t kill because it’s his one rule” which yes is understandably frustrating for Jason but at least could give him some reason to think Bruce didn’t just value him as a body on the job. Which Bruce didn’t, Bruce, before some twats got allowed to write him, loved his children unconditionally, spent time with them and was a good father to them. This dunks on that harder than him and Dick in Infinite Crisis. It also perpetuates the Batman/Joker Optimus Prime/Megatron dynamic of “we’re made for each other to kill!!!”, which I’m fine with when it’s the Joker thinking that but not Batman. These rogues do not mean more to him than his children. He assaulted Two-Face, one of his closest friends when he attacked Dick, extremely violently might I add, but Joker gets a pass because “they’re the same you and I”? No that’s some BS right there. Also it cements the Red Hood backstory and I’m firmly anti-backstory Joker. But the actual final problem is the redemption part of his story. Writers don’t seem to do this and have him revert back to killing or he uses non-lethal rounds 😑, but it usually comes out of nowhere and it never is satisfactory. Have him keep killing and have the Bats have to put him away or actually write character growth for him in the Batman comic so it can more easily bleed over. But they won’t since edge lords sell. I absolutely love Jason and I as much as I wish you could retcon his death.

#Jason Todd #red hood #I just found out tumblr has a text limit #I’ll finish this when I get home

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timaeusterrored · 1 year

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(His Muse)

(Thinking about them again babes)

“What’s wrong, J?” V’s lips didn’t move, nor did he even open his eyes. It was kinda freaky when he did that honestly. But Johnny didn’t have it in him to comment or complain. Like V said, something was wrong.

The thing that upset him was the fact that Kerry was right there. He was sound asleep next to V, and looking so unfairly beautiful. Everyone said in the band, Kerry was God’s favorite because of how pretty he was. Johnny never agreed out loud. But he had agreed with it.

It upset him that Kerry couldn’t see him. That Johnny couldn’t feel him with his own hands. Even when they did get to talk, it wasn’t with his voice, his eyes, his ears. Kerry only saw V, with the knowledge that Johnny was somewhere in there. It was a sick joke he had played on himself.

If it hadn’t been for Rogue, Johnny would have ran to him the seconds he saw the screamsheets about Kerry’s mental health declining. He knew that night fucked with his head even more than Johnny had meant for it too, but they had saved him and that’s all that mattered.

“Johnny?” V opened his eyes this time, turning to face him from where he sat behind him. “What’s up?” He said softly, making Kerry shift closer to him, his head rested on Vax’s bare chest.

“When I’m wiped, you’ll still stay with him right?” Johnny may have brought V to Kerry for their own comfort, but he had to make sure V didn’t ditch him as soon as Johnny was out. He needed to make sure he was taken care of.

“Of course I will… ‘M not an asshole.” Johnny just huffed and shook his head, looking down at Kerry. He looked so different, but still just as beautiful as the last time he saw him.

“…Would you like to talk to him? Tomorrow?” V’s voice was quiet, like he knew the risks that came with that. He knew letting Johnny take over like that was risky.

Johnny would love another chance to talk to Kerry, to have a moment with him instead of talking through V. But he couldn’t do that to V, he was already risking a lot slacking off so they could spend more time with Kerry before whatever happened, happened. V was thinking of accepting Hanako’s offer, much to Johnny’s distain. Kerry didn’t know yet.

“Nah. You’d be out of commission for a day if I did that. Those pills are gonna kill you, Y’know?”

V was quiet. Maybe that was for the best.

“Johnny misses you.”

Damnit V.

Kerry took a long sip from his coffee, eyeing V over the mug. He was taking into account what V was saying, processing it. It was way too early to be saying shit like that.

“Does he now?” Kerry asked, putting the cup down. He clearly did not wanna think about it, Johnny missing him.

They had stayed in the Glen apartment that night, meaning Kerry got to steal V’s clothes and have an excuse, like he needed one. Johnny remembered a time when Kerry worse his clothes everywhere like they were his own.

“Do we… have thoughts on that?” V asked, leaning forward on the counter a bit. Kerry leaned in as well and kissed his cheek.

“Whatever you’re planning, the answer is no. You’re body can’t handle it, and I’m sure if Johnny truly cared about you like he said he does, he wouldn’t agree with your sneaky little ways either.” Kerry shut down V’s plan quick, making the merc pout.

“But he misses you. And you miss him-“

“V, sweetheart, lemme explain something. I’ve missed Johnny for 50 years, I’m used to missing him. I don’t think it’s ever gonna go away. But when it comes down to it, I’m sure it will, I’m choosing you. You are my concern now, keeping you alive is what I want. Johnny and I can miss each other for another 50 years, doesn’t mean I want to see him or use you to see him. Got me?” Kerry rolled up the sleeves on the shirt he had stolen, ending his argument.

Damn. Was it bad Johnny was kinda turned on by that.

“Yes Johnny, it is. And why are you two so stubborn?” V asked him, pouting into his coffee.

“Like I said, you’d never win an argument we’re on the same side of. Never gonna happen, V.”

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