#and my connection briefly died when i was doing it the first time

[sinileijona]

hrothtober day 6 - balance

fool's tightrope

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #screencap #gpose #hrothgar #fuath #aenc thon #hrothtober #my gposes #posts by me #koel (oc) #god taking this was a massive pain lmao #there's such a tiny window of time to be able to do it while the mechanic is going #and my connection briefly died when i was doing it the first time #so i had to run the entire dungeon again just to get here

[wandasgf]

EVERLONG. mdni. 18+.

dream girl evil universe

pairing: rockstar!natasha romanoff + yelena's best friend!reader

summary: you hadn't expected yelena's natasha to be the natasha

warnings: fluff, partial smut, light angst for like a second, top!natasha, bottom!reader, really they're just very sweet

wc: 2.5k

You freeze in the kitchen of Yelena’s apartment, seeing a redhead that you don’t recognize sitting on the couch in the living room. You briefly wonder if Yelena had had a breakdown and dyed her hair without telling you. That would explain today’s radio silence even though usually your phone was blowing up asking when you would finally be done with your classes and come make her dinner. It was Monday night and usually you’d come over to Yelena’s apartment to make dinner and watch whatever movie Yelena chose. Sometimes her girlfriend Kate would come over, but Yelena liked to keep Monday nights for ‘best friend time’ as she liked to call it. You hesitantly hang your bag on the hook by the door and close it behind you. Hopefully you didn’t just close yourself in with a serial killer or something. 

At the sound of the door closing, the redhead turns her head and your jaw almost drops when you make eye contact. Natasha Romanoff is sitting in Yelena’s living room. 

What the hell is Natasha Romanoff doing sitting in Yelena’s living room? 

The redhead is the lead guitarist and singer in what most magazines and articles are calling ‘one of the most popular female rock bands in the past twenty years.’ Even if someone doesn’t know Spellbound’s music, they’d know Natasha. She’s recently been a hot topic of the internet, having been caught on video punching one of her bandmate, Wanda’s, exes in the face after they wouldn’t stop harassing her. The video spread like wildfire, most people on Natasha’s side and other’s calling her a bitch, saying she shouldn’t get involved. You, of course, were on Natasha’s side. 

She doesn’t seem at all concerned, just raises an eyebrow at the continued silence when you don’t say anything. “You’re not Yelena.” Is what you say, lamely, when you can finally get your brain to connect to your vocal chords. “Not the last time I checked, no. As far as I can tell neither are you.” 

“It’s Monday night.” You say as if that would be any explanation at all as to why you’re in Yelena’s apartment. Natasha stands from the couch, putting the bottle of beer she was drinking down on Yelena’s coffee table. “Right,” she nods in agreement, “but that doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my sister’s apartment.” You almost choke on your own spit at Natasha’s words. Yelena’s Natasha was the Natasha? 

As if to save you from whatever wrath the redhead was going to unleash on you for being a stranger in her sister’s apartment, Yelena emerges from her bedroom. “Y/N! It’s nice of you to finally make it. I thought maybe a traffic monster had swallowed you up.” You were five minutes later than usual and she was acting like it was the end of the world, typical. Natasha is momentarily forgotten as you roll your eyes at your best friend's words. “Hi, Y/N. So nice to see you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I was a ghost today, Y/N.” You mock her playfully, ready to give her an earful for making you think she might have died today before Natasha clears her throat.

“Big sisters don’t get introductions anymore?”

It was easy to get over your initial starstruck feeling after the first couple of days that Natasha stayed with Yelena. You learned that there was a two week long break between legs of the tour and Natasha decided she wanted to come visit her sister. With no prior notice, of course, because that’s just how Natasha does things. It really didn’t take long for you to feel comfortable around her and although she had been skeptical to let herself fully relax around you, even if she didn’t show it, she eventually did. You found that you enjoyed being around her and even found yourself hanging around Yelena’s apartment even when she wasn’t there just so you could spend time with Natasha. 

And Natasha enjoyed spending time with you. She didn’t show it, much like she didn’t show most emotions that weren’t surface level, but she was excited to finally meet the famous Y/N Yelena would always rave about for the past however many years when they spoke on the phone. She would always regret not coming to visit more often, but she wouldn’t trade her current life for anything even if it meant time spent with Yelena was over the phone more often than not. She could make up for it in other ways, hopefully her sister felt the same. 

It was the last day of Natasha’s two week visit and you were both sitting on the cargo bed of her rental truck. It was parked in the grassy parking area near the picnic area of one of New York’s many state parks. It was nearly deserted save for a few families, August wasn’t exactly peak tourist season in this part of New York. You were waiting for Yelena to arrive with Kate, the blonde finally deciding that now would be a good time for Natasha to meet her girlfriend. Of course she waited until the day before Natasha left. 

You’re leaning into Natasha, your legs dangling off the edge of the cargo bed, kicking back and forth lightly. She’s leaning on one hand and letting you play with her fingers on the other. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to admit it out loud, but she will miss you when she’s gone. She hadn’t planned on growing so close to you and she’s never had a problem with being detached before, but something about you just draws her in. If she could stay here, with you leaning against her and the gentle breeze against her skin, she would. It’s a dangerous thought, she knows it is, but she wonders if you’d wait for her to come back. Whenever that is. 

The mixture of Natasha’s perfume and the nature around you is comforting and you don’t want anything to burst the little bubble of comfort you and Natasha have created for yourselves. “Is it bad that I don’t want you to go?” You ask quietly, hoping if you don’t say it too loud then the question won’t hold as many emotions as you know it does. Natasha doesn’t respond for a few seconds, trying to come up with an answer that won’t make you upset but also won’t give you any false hope. “You could always come to one of my shows.” Is what she settles for, but the sigh she gets in response isn’t what she wanted. 

“You know I can’t.” Your legs stop kicking and you let the warm breeze brush against them as it blows past. Natasha squeezes your hand, “I know.” She’s about to say something else, but the honk of a horn interrupts her and you practically jump off of the truck, a startled curse falling from your lips as you whip your head around. You groan when you see Yelena’s car and turn to bury your face in Natasha’s shoulder, previous feelings seemingly forgotten, “Your sister’s an asshole.”

Natasha laughs, reaching up to run a hand through your hair, the feeling much too familiar. It makes a pit form in her stomach, but she pushes it down. “It runs in the family. Now, come on. I have to go all big sister on this Kate girl.” She pats your shoulder and waits for you to pull away from her before getting down from the truck. She almost walks away, but thinks better of it, instead turning to help you down as well. There’s no reason to pull away, she reminds herself, you two are just friends. Friends who have spent the past couple of nights cuddled together on Yelena’s couch while watching movies, but still, just friends. 

You both hear two car doors shut and then Yelena’s voice, “Sestra! Come meet Kate!” and then much quieter, Kate’s nervous one, “Babe, I really think maybe we should just go back. I mean she’s already met Y/N, so maybe I’ll be next time.”

Surprisingly, you’re able to stop Natasha from scaring Kate too much, but she still puts the fear of God into the brunette, promising something awful if she were to ever break her sister’s heart. Of course Kate swears she would never do anything like that and then goes on a nervous rant about how she was totally on Natasha’s side when it came to punching that guy.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly, you all had a good time and you almost completely forgot that Natasha would be leaving tomorrow. Until you didn’t. You had been sleeping over at Yelena’s apartment the past couple of nights and tonight was no different, wanting to see Natasha off when she left. Like a good friend would. Because that’s what you were. Friends. 

Natasha had claimed she was going to stay up all night so that when she got on the bus in the morning, she’d be able to sleep through the long drive to the hotel in Indiana. You gave some lame excuse to hide wanting to spend more time with her as a reason why you’d stay up with her. Yelena had gone to sleep long ago and you were starting to get a little sleepy, but you weren’t going to give up now. You looked at your phone to check the time: 2:46am. 

You were in a similar position to earlier, except instead of a truck bed you were sitting on the couch with your legs curled up next to you as you leaned into Natasha. “Y/N?” Natasha whispers into the quiet of the living room, the only sound besides her voice being the quiet murmur from the tv. You hum in response, eyes trained on the scene being shown on the tv screen. You were watching reruns of one of your favorite shows and although Natasha wasn’t all that interested, she’d let you keep it on. 

“Y/N.” She says slightly louder and you sit up in confusion, looking around to see if maybe you’d missed something. You furrow your eyebrows when everything is the same as it was before, “what?” Natasha looks like she wants to say something, but she hesitates slightly. “Nevermind. Sorry, I thought I saw something.”

“Nat, seriously, what?” You’re beyond confused now and a little too tired to understand the emotions in Natasha’s eyes the way you usually would. It’s a split second decision, but the resolve she’s been trying to build up for the past few days has been effectively crumbled and the question that’s been on the tip of her tongue since you asked if it was bad you wanted her to stay finally escapes her lips, “can I kiss you?”

It takes you a second to register the fact that she actually wants to kiss you, but as soon as you do you’re nodding your head. She surges forward, cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you grab at her shirt, trying to tug her closer as your lips move against each other. Her tongue slides against your bottom lip and you gasp. She takes the opportunity to push her tongue into your mouth, exploring it. There’s no real fight for dominance, you let Natasha take the lead entirely. 

You tug her down as you lay back on the couch and she shifts slightly so that she can straddle your hips, one of her hands tangling in your hair. Eventually she has to pull away for air and she’s glad she does with the way you struggle to breathe properly, fists clutching her shirt. Your breathing is labored and she would find it cute had she not realized you were sacrificing breathing just to kiss her. She almost wants to scold you for it. 

She rubs her thumb across your cheek as she looks down at you. She really shouldn’t be doing this, not before she has to leave, and especially not in Yelena’s living room, but she doesn’t know if she really cares right now. “I’m going to kiss you again, okay?”

“Please.” You nod desperately, tugging her back down and meeting her lips halfway. This kiss is much more heated and messy, the both of you more desperate for each other than you already were. Natasha bites down on your bottom lip and you moan softly, arching up into her. Her smirk breaks the kiss and you almost whine, but it’s almost like she can read your mind because she’s immediately shushing you and pressing her lips to yours again. 

Your hands slide under her shirt to grip at her waist and pull her closer to you, desperately wanting to feel her against you. The way you’re kissing is almost feverish, the both of you so desperate that you feel if you don’t consume the other it may be your demise. Natasha pulls away to quickly pull her shirt off and discard it on the floor and if you weren’t so desperate to have her lips on yours again, you would have taken more time to admire her abs. 

When she leans back down to meet your lips in another frenzied kiss, she doesn’t even take the time to pull your shirt off entirely, merely pushes it up and over your breasts, her hands finding purchase on the soft skin of your waist before traveling up. She groans at the way your body reacts to her and the little whine you let out when she slides her fingertips over the cups of your bra. 

When she pulls away again you try to catch your breath, feeling a little lightheaded from having Natasha like this. She’s leaning over you, hands cupping your cheeks as her thumb rubs soothingly across one of them. “If we keep going, I’m not going to be able to stop.” She laughs lightly, the look on your face telling her that very much wouldn’t be a problem. “But I don’t think this is the right place for that, doll. Another time, alright?”

The rest of the night is spent with Natasha whispering sweet nothings to you as you fall in and out of sleep, trying your best to stay awake with her. She promises to come back soon, even though she doesn’t know when soon will be, and that she’ll text you when she can and set aside time to call, and would you like that? Eventually, you succumb to sleep and Natasha has to slip away without a proper goodbye. She’d tried to wake you, you can’t fault her for that one. And if Yelena noticed you wearing Natasha’s shirt while you were asleep on the couch, she didn’t say anything. 

-

“I hope you guys don’t mind us playing something new.” Natasha’s words are met with loud cheers and she smirks softly, “it’s a song I wrote recently and we haven’t had a chance to play it for anyone yet so we figured why not, right? It’s called Everlong. I hope you guys like it.” She looks behind her and nods to Carol who starts the drum beat.

“Hello

I’ve waited here for you

Everlong”

#alice's fics ! #🎸🦇 au #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romanoff smut

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny Chapter 6

Danny was surprised to say the least. The last time he even step foot in a place this fancy was at Vlad's dairy palace.

"Master Bruce is this way Master Todd"

Danny waited for Jason in the sitting room.

"Would you like tea Mr. Fenton"

Danny jolted, he had been so deep in his own thoughts.

"Yes, thank you-"

"Alfred is fine"

"Thank you Alfred"

"Pardon me for asking but what is your connection to the master?"

Danny squinted thinking about it as if it was the first time he was contemplating this. Well, it was the first time.

"The way I met him was a little... strange, but after that day he wouldn't leave me alone. Like a stalker"

Alfred chuckled.

Danny blushed, "I didn't mean that his is a stalker or anything! He's been a big help to me, I think. We're friends I guess you would say"

Jason walked up to the office. There was an air of tension and Jason wondered briefly if Bruce was fuming with anger on the other side.

Jason stepped in, closing the door behind him.

Bruce was sitting behind his desk with an unpleasant look on his face.

Jason wanted to make a wise crack but the air was too suffocating. You would think someone had died.

Bruce motioned for Jason to sit down, he came out from behind his desk and sat down across from Jason.

Bruce sighed before looking straight into Jason's eyes.

"Jason"

Jason didn't like his tone of voice.

"Are you gay?"

Jason paused and replayed the tape in his head. Did Bruce really just ask him that?

"W-why? Are you asking me that?" He had never been more confused.

"So you are gay?"

Jason suddenly felt hot.

"Maybe, in my defense some men just hit different"

Bruce made a face.

"Not literally, stop looking at me like that!"

"Some men, like that Doctor?"

Jason sighed and looked at the window nonchalantly.

"Yeah I guess."

Bruce nodded.

"So now that it's confirmed, there are some things you should know-"

"You are not giving me the talk in gay edition! I am an adult Bruce!"

"Does he like you back?"

Jason groaned.

"I really don't know. I don't even know if he's into men."

"Have you tried asking him"

"I'm not doing that"

Bruce wanted to scream. Why did his children always take the hard way.

Jason glanced at the clock on Bruce's wall and jumped up.

"Crap! I have to take Danny to the hospital!"

"This conversation-" before Bruce could finish Jason was already gone.

He sighed, "why do I even try?" He muttered into his hands.

He had even gotten to the important part yet, which would be Jason's vigilante identity.

"Do you like Master Todd?" Alfred asked as he sipped his tea.

"He's a great friend, he really is helpful when he wants to be"

Alfred shook his head elegantly.

"Forgive me, I meant romantically"

Danny almost dropped his tea. "Uh, I-I don't know. I've never considered"

Jason burst in at that exact moment and Danny's face went red.

"Your gonna be late if we don't go right now!" Jason almost shouted.

Danny jumped up, very flustered.

"Bye Alfred" Danny said as Jason grabbed Danny's hand and pulled him to the car.

Alfred smiled over his tea.

Jason hopped in the car and noticed that something was wrong with Danny. He was stiffer than a wooden board.

"Danny?"

A high pitched "what?" Came out that just made Danny even more embarrassed.

"Are you ok?"

Danny managed to breathe again

"Yea, just nervous about going to work I guess"

Jason nodded.

"Just be careful"

When Danny got into the hospital he noticed something strange. Everyone seemed to be staring at him and whispering to each other.

"Daniel! There you are my good friend " the hospitals general manager said clapping him on the back.

Danny made a face like he had just stepped on a fresh pile of dog shit. This guy hated him, and he called him Daniel.

If they were friends he would've to call him Danny. This was the guy who tried to suspend Danny licence and kept saying he was just going to be trouble for the hospital.

So why was he sucking up to him now?

"We have someone who needs to speak with you urgently"

Who could be so important, that even a dick like this guy would change his tune?

Well it didn't matter, Danny was pissed off now.

"Tell whoever it is to wait, my patients need me, make sure they don't bother me while I'm working"

"You don't have a choice brat, stop soaking up being the big hero and get your ass in that office."

Danny was about to stick up his middle finger and walk away when a voice rang out from down the hall.

"Doctor! I'm so glad I caught you!"

Danny looked past his disgruntled superior and his eyes instantly narrowed.

It was a prominent businessman with lots of rumors of having shady side businesses. Lex Luther.

"You have to excuse me sir but I'm working at the moment-"

"Of course, I don't mean to interrupt your work at all. If you can perhaps take the time to meet with me after your work hours have finished-"

Lex quickly waved off the thought his a graceful twist of his hand, "but you don't have too, you might be too exhausted. At least take my card. I have so much to talk about"

Danny took the card, resisting the urge to rip it up in front of the general manager out of spite.

Still, despite the rumors Lex Luther seemed fairly decent. Danny had no time to mull it over, he had patients to treat.

Danny carefully fixed a cast for little boy.

"There you go, all done"

The boy looked at Danny sadly, "can I be the first to sign it?" Danny asked.

The boy lit up, Danny was supposed to recommend that the cast stay clean and unsigned but hey, its an important tradition.

~Your incredibly strong, keep up that fighting spirit, love Doctor Danny~

The boy showed his mom who smiled and thanked the doctor. Danny just replied with, "it's my job"

Danny was half asleep by the time he walked out of the hospital.

"Hello" a smooth voice said in his ear. Danny whipped his head around his the person in the nose.

"Oh crap I'm sorry, are you ok?" Danny asked.

The person turned out to be Lex Luther.

"It's ok, it's my fault for being too close"

"Yeah but it could be bruised, I hope it's not broken" he said as he examined it.

After a few seconds Danny realized he asked for permission before touching him.

He quickly withdrew his hands.

"It's not broken, just bruised" Danny declared.

"Thank you, I see your off from work. Can I treat you to a meal?"

Danny smiled, "shouldn't I be saying that? I did bruise you"

Lex Luther shook his head, "no, I asked to meet with you. I should pay"

Danny caved.

"I'll follow you in my car-"

"No need, I'll have my assistant drove your car, we'll ride together in mine"

Together? Why?

"Okay, wait- is that your car?"

It was a shiny black Lamborghini.

"Wow, you drive this around Gotham? You so brave. If I had a car like this it would be locked up in storage" Danny said his hands hovering over, but not touching.

Lex pit his hand over Danny's and pushed it on the car.

"It won't break if you touch it"

Danny's face felt hot all of the sudden.

"Y-yeah you're probably right" Danny said nervously as he moved his hand and opened the door. After he slid in Lex shut the door for him.

The car looked brand new on the inside too.

"This is so clean"

"I made sure it was before I came to the hospital. Doctors like things clean"

Danny laughed, "not all doctors are clean freaks, you should see my car. It's a wreck"

"Forgive me, I spoke without thinking"

Danny shook his head. "It's fine, just a little funny"

Danny didn't want to admit it but this lex guy was easy to get along with.

Once they were in the restaurant and seated Danny got his business face on.

"So, did you ean to meet with me to talk about sponsoring the hospital?"

"Not at all, I already sponsor the hospital, you could say I'm their biggest sponsor"

No he wasn't, Bruce Wayne was Gotham Generals biggest sponsor. But he could be the second biggest sponsor.

"So what did you want to meet me about?"

Lex Luther gave Danny a soft smile, "you, I want to sponsor you specifically. More specifically I'm interested in you"

Danny raised an eyebrow, "I'm not sure I understand"

"I like you and I want to start a relationship with you"

Danny wasn't sure he heard him correctly.

"Like dating? Why?"

Lex chuckled, "I wondered that myself, why I was so attracted to you. In the end I still don't have a reason. I just like you"

"D- I- I don't know anything about you-"

"Could you give me a chance?"

Danny was confused, when he spoke it sounded genuine, but his eyes were silent.

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

"Yes, of course"

They ate and discussed little things, some things Lex Luther's business had been doing and Danny's hectic hospital work.

Jason arrived at the hospital ready to pick up Danny when he saw Danny's car drove away, so he followed it.

When someone other than Danny got out Jason's mood darkened.

The man was thrown against the car hard.

"Where is he!" Jason demanded.

"What! Get away from me!" The guy said.

Jason pulled out a knife, "I won't ask again"

And that's how Jason found himself checking surveillance cameras to find what place they went to eat at.

He arrived just as Danny was walking out with a man.

"Danny, where do you live, I'll drive you home and have my driver bring your car in the morning."

"DON'T TELL HIM SHIT!" a voice hollered from across the parking lot.

Danny looked startled towards the sound, he squinted to get a better look at the person stalking angrily towards them.

"Jason?!"

Lex put an arm around Danny's shoulder and pulled him next to him.

"Who are you?!"

Jason sneered, "none of your business, come on Danny I explain on the way"

Danny made a move to go but Lex held him firmly next to him.

"Danny this man seems to have anger issues, I don't think it's safe for you to go with him"

Danny couldn't move out of lex's grip. Jason glared murderously.

"I'll be fine Mr. Luther, he's really not a bad person" Danny said as he pried off the arm.

This lex guy was strong.

"Call me lex" lex whispered in his ear. Jason had enough, he pulled Danny away from lex Luther and put him on his motorcycle.

"I promise I'll explain when we get to my place" Jason said.

Lex Luther called his associate from his burner phone, "put plan B on standby, we might need it after all"

Danny sat completely confused on Jason's couch. Jason was kneeling in front of him.

"Are you okay Danny? Did he hurt you?"

"No, he was really nice, I don't get what's making you so anxious"

Jason sighed, "Bruce has dealt with Lex Luther before, he's into some pretty sketchy business"

"That's right, I had him on my cork board as suspicious. I was going to get closer and get more information, but if it bothers you that much I can table it for now"

Jason sighed, "your gonna be the death of me" he muttered.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #dpxdc #fanfiction #redhood #jason todd #phandom #batman

[igotanidea]

Crawl back to you: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Mexican!reader celebrating dia de los muertos, going throught the process of grieving after Jason's dead and her process of getting better through the years with a little plot twist at the end.

Thank you @thefandomdiaries07 - I played with the idea somewhat, hope you'll like it.

Disclaimer: this is not, in any way, a hate on religious belief, the reader's attitude just fit in the plot. (no offence to anyone meant here, truly)

***

Dia de los muertos.

Day of the Dead.

Despite her origin and upbringing Y/N never really felt connected to this celebration.

Remembering people who died and who she was too young to remember in the first place felt just … weird.

Of course, her mother, aunts and grandmothers got her involved in preparing the ofrenda and preached her about the importance of preparation for the souls’ arrivals but she always did it only half-heartedly, putting on a fake smile and pretending to enjoy the festivities.

But deep down she felt like a freaking hypocrite, while in fact not feeling anything.

And when her family moved to Gotham, out of all places, it got even worse. Poor girl felt conflicted, unaccepted, unsure of who she was and dealing with identity crisis, going as far as renouncing her ancestry to fit in the crowd. She was a teenager what else could you have expected.

Anyhow.

A few months passed and she got used to that god forsaken, lawless hole, keeping herself a bit away from her family, even if technically she was still living the same house. But with her struggles with ethnicity and traditions, she was a bit of a black sheep of the family, having not many true friends and spending most of the time alone,

recklessly wondering alongside the streets, pretending to be a freaking globetrotter. 

 And that was how one day she got involved with the batfamily, starting from being saved from an assault, by the Batman sidekick, Robin.

Jason Todd.

Whose name she learnt a few weeks later, having lost all the hope to see that red, green and yellow bird boy ever again.

However, surprisingly, those two clicked fast enough and even though they were technically still young  teenagers something bigger than friendship started creeping in.

He kissed her for the first time when they were 15.

And it was magical, romantic and send her into a spiral of love and dreams and worries and thoughts about future.

It was pretty much prefect for a whole year, as they somehow managed to make it work despite being forced to keep their relationship a secret from both families.

Imagine the panic that would spread in her family if they knew she was in love with a vigilante.

Imagine the panic that would spread in his family if they knew he told his identity to a girl he fell for.

That was obviously a no go.

So they kept on meeting in secret.

Almost every night she sneaked out of the house to check out on him after patrol and he was escaping Batman’s watchful gaze to have at least a few hours together alone with .

But one night changed everything.

He went to search for his biological mother.

And she should have stopped him or tell him how reckless he was being or do anything to dissuade him from this idea. Instead she laid her head on his shoulder, holding onto him tighter, kissing his lips briefly and making him promise he’d report to her the second he gets back.

A promise he never kept.

***

 “Hello? Who’s this?” she picked up her phone, blissfully unaware of the news that was about to fall upon her.

“Hey… um… is this Y/N?” an unrecognisable male voice reverberated on the other side

“Yes” she frowned “Who is this?” the girl asked again.

“My name’s Dick Grayson. I’m Jason’s older adoptive brother. We’ve never met but… I know you two were close…”

Wait. Did he just say were close?

“What – what happened…?”

The receiver fell from her hand, tears flooded her face and her heart broke in half.

***

His funeral was probably the worst day of her life, even though she couldn’t remember much more than the see of blackness, plenty of people she knew from Jason’s stories but saw for the first time and some meaningless words of consolations.

***

YEAR ONE

It had been eight months since his death and she was still grieving, unsure if the pain in her chest would ever subside or the tears would ever dry.

In that short time, she had become very close to Jason's brother, Dick, who was the perfect definition of an eldest child and had sort of taken her under his wing (pun intended). After everything with Jason and everything in between, she couldn't and didn't want to stay in Gotham, a place that was a painful reminder of the past.

Y/N took a different route every time she came across the places where they hung out or where they first kissed and where they secretly met at night and considering the fact that Gotham wasn't that big, it was slowly becoming impossible to move. And going to school and seeing couples and happy people was like a shot to the heart, making her a walking fountain almost every school break.

She felt a sudden need to get away from everything and moved to Bludhaven, where she started a new school and where Dick made sure she was safe and (as much as possible, meaning not much at all) happy.

It was October and dia de los muertos was right around the corner, of which her family was kind enough to inform her, inviting the girl to the family celebrations, and mentioning the resulting obligations of the living.

Making her angry at first.

Angry and with the sense of unfairness and stupidity of life. You’re there one second, enjoying the presence of the loved ones, and then, in another second you are just gone and it’s like you never really existed.

What was the point of life, apart from constant suffering and uncertainty of tomorrow?

 This whole celebration freaking sucked, and she was not going to celebrate the death, having loved and lost the most important person in her young life!

But…

Once she got herself into that spiral of thinking, Y/N slowly started feeling something more than annoyance at her nation’s cultural habits, overwhelming depression and lack of any motivation to move on. Maybe…

It was the first time she had someone she knew to remember. And to hope that maybe, on this special day, his soul  were walking amongst the living and watching her from the other side even if she could not do the same.

Maybe…

And if he was, maybe it was her only chance to somehow communicate with him, tell him all the words she kept hidden in her soul, that never found a way out. Perhaps from the silent beating of her heart he would feel the love that was still there, the longing, the needing and the fact that despite being gone, he wasn’t and would never be forgotten by her.

Her eyes grew wide and she jumped off the bed, gathering all the necessities and beginning her work.

***

“Y/N?” Punctual as always Dick entered the apartment, carrying the box with her favourite takeout. It was their Thursday tradition to have some good food and hang out together and he was not going to be a breaker. But he definitely did not expect to see his friend kneeling on the floor in front of something that looked like a tiny stairs, painted in red, green and yellow ending with an arch. It was decorated with something he recognised as salt, candles, water and marigold flowers. And the whole apartment smelled like lavender for some reason. “Y/N? What are you doing?” he put the food on the table, seriously concerned by her mental state.

“Oh!” she almost jumped at the sound of his voice, turning around to face him. “Hey, Dick. It’s just a little celebration.”

“Of what?” he frowned, not understanding a thing. “What is this?”

“ofrenda” she explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but his confused gaze made her realise that maybe not everyone were familiar with the festivity. “an offering.”

“An offering? Of what? To who? And why?”

Y/N almost rolled her eyes.

“I thought Bruce made you go the private school. Don’t you know anything about dia de los muertos?”

“I thought you were done with your national customs?”

“I was…” she sighed deeply reaching for the picture she was about to hang in her little altar. Jason, smiling, happy at some point back in time, that was never supposed to go back. She took the photo at one of their walks in the park in the autumn, with the sun shining and colourful leaves falling down from the trees. “but things have changed…” Y/N whispered, caressing Jason’s cheek on the photo, her eyes still shining with love and affection, but also tinged with sadness. “I miss him…”

“I know, Y/N. I miss that little prick too.”

“Yeah, he was a prick, wasn’t he? And an asshole, sometimes.” She chuckles as Dick sat on the floor next to her. “I bet if he’s around he’s annoyed at us bad-mouthing him.”

“If he’s around?”

“Yeah, the whole point of this day is that the souls come back to earth to visit us.”

“so it’s basically something like Halloween.”

“ more or less so. But cut the haunting part.” She smiled a little “We can’t see the deceased but we can feel them…”

“do you?”

“do I what?” Y/N frowned at his question. “Do I feel him?”

“Yeah. Sorry if it’s too soon or too bold thing to say, Y/N…”

“It’s not. It’s okay. I can’t exactly feel him, but it doesn’t mean he’s not here. We both agreed he was a prick sometimes, maybe he’s just hiding from me. Just to tease me. But that won’t stop me from calling upon him even from beyond the grave.”

She stood up and put the picture at the top stairs.

“Hey Todd, if you’re somewhere there, I’m not gonna go easy on you. See you next year, you little asshole.”

YEAR TWO

“Hey, Y/N, I dropped by decorating store and bought some things for your ofrenda this year, wanna take a look at them?”

YEAR THREE

You know, Dick, I’m not sure if Jason would appreciate us using the cape here….

“Your limiting my imagination….”

“I don’t care. I’m in charge. Remove it, now”

YEAR FOUR

 Did you make the ofrenda without me, Grayson!?

YEAR FIVE

No way in hell she was going to let Dick take charge this year. For the past four of them he was growing more and more fond of the day of the dead, starting from assisting and doing shopping ending on going behind her back in finalising his own crazy concept. And finally, the tide had changed and Y/N had to put her foot down.

“What do you mean  you want me to leave?!” Dick cried out the second she told him what punishment she chose for him “Y/N! Why?! It’s so unfair, I – “

“You hijacked my preparations last year. And two years ago. And to tell the truth, three years ago as well!”

“I didn’t – ok, fine…” he raised his hands in surrender “but you can’t blame me for that! It’s really fu-“ he stopped in the middle of the sentence.

“You wanted to say funny, didn’t you?” Y/N raised an eyebrow and Dick blushed a little. Maybe it was a bit inappropriate and unfortunate word to use.

“NO! No I wanted to say… um…” Dick was desperately searching for more accurate wording, also starting with fu, but obviously the alternatives were even worse.

“See that’s the whole point. You kind of missing the message of the day. Yes, sure, it’s supposed to be fun way to honour the dead and tame death in some way, but still it’s also supposed to be at least a little bit of an opportunity to stop for a second and think about things and people.  I really appreciate your positive attitude and it’s not like I’m kicking you out, but...”

“but you do.” Dick smirked and nodded with understanding.

“I just feel like I need to be alone for a while, ok? It’s been five years and at his point I feel like I sometimes need to focus to even remember his face without a photo. It’s all becoming a blur, lost in the joy and amusement. And I don’t want that. I want to remember.”

“Is that why you never gave any boy any chance to –“ he cut out again without really thinking what he was saying.

“Grayson… “ she trailed warningly.

“I’m out! I’m out! Don’t hit me!” he rushed towards the exit. “Just call me when it will be safe to come back, ok?”

“Got it. Now get out!” she chuckled, closing and locking the door behind her friend.

Every little word she said was true.

She wanted to remember.

She had to remember.

It was the only way to fill that little dent in her heart, that Jason left when he died. She couldn’t just let go of him, even though Dick was probably right, and after so many years she should have moved on.  But both her heart and her soul refused to do so.

Maybe you only get one chance to meet your soulmate and Y/N was close to sure that  Jason has been hers.

”It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" she whispered the quote to herself while reaching for Jason’s photo she chose for this year’s decoration, turning them over in her hands for a while, looking at the face of a 15 year old she used to know “I wonder what you would look like now. Bet you’d be even more handsome and all the girls would be jealous I got such a catch.” She laughed a little “Hope you don’t hear me now, cause god damn, that would be such an ego booster for you.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” The sudden male voice coming from behind her made her jump (almost the mirror situation to the one that occurred five years ago when Dick found her preparing the ofrenda). But this time it was not Dick standing in her apartment.

“What the actual fuck!?” she yelled taking a fighting stance she learned from Grayson, knowing it would not help her at all due to the shaking of her body at the view in front of her.

“Handsome, huh?” Jason Todd in the flesh, absolutely not dead, brushed some unruly hair from his forehead, looking at her with a playful expression

“¡Estas muerto! ¡Eres un fantasma! ¡¿Qué está pasando?! Cómo –?“ as usual when she got nervous she started using Spanish. (you’re dead! You’re a ghost! What’s going on?! How-?)

“Baby…” Jason took a step forward, hesitantly. “Baby…” he opened his arms “I;m not dead, I swear to you. I-“

She cut him off by diving into his embrace, holding him tightly, wanting to make sure that he wasn’t just a friction of her imagination and needing to feel his warmth, the beating of his heart and his breathing.

“You’re really here!” she cried out, tears falling down her cheeks like a waterfall when she nuzzled into his chest. Honestly, she didn’t need any explanation, at least not at this point. She only wanted him close, afraid that if she let go for as much as a second he would disappear again. “Swear to me this is not a dream…” she muttered, against his shirt. “Swear to me.” Her entire body shook from the shock, she felt so small in his arms, but also safe as never before. It was like after five long years she got home again, that this missing part of her heart was found, and immediately jumped into the place reserved solely for him, unrepleacable. She was whole again and that was what count.

“Baby…. Oh, my sweet girl…” Jason wrapped his arms around her, caressing her back and hair, pulling her even closer, wanting to comfort her, to give her all that love and peace she was deprived of for what felt like ages. “I’m really here. I’m here. My baby… I’m back to you.” He whispered, closing his eyes, feeling equally, if not more emotional than her. He’s been through hell but the only though that made him keep on going was her. His angel. His joy. His only source of light in the eternal darkness that seemed to surround and swallow him. His grip on her tightened and he hoped to convey all these unspoken words to her through hugs and caresses and the gentle brushing of his lips against her temples.

“I love you…” she sobbed desperately, blurting out the only thing that was on her mind at the moment. “I missed you and I love you and –“

“I know baby. I love you too. And I promise you, you’ll never have to worry about hanging my picture in your altar ever again. Ever. I’ll crawl back to you every time and not even death can stop me from being with you. ”

And they just stood there, next to something that was supposed be an tribute to not-so-dead Jason Todd, holding and hugging each other tightly, creating the little bubble only for them two and being so very happy cutting out the entire world and reality, lost in daydream that happened to be the upcoming future for two people that have loved, have lost, and luckily, have found a way back to each other.

Talking could wait.

Silence, in the company of the only person that mattered, came first.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood angst #red hood fluff #dick grayson x reader

[utilitycaster]

You know what's interesting to me? For all people keep claiming at every juncture that perhaps Bells Hells will come around on the gods and see the harm they do (which, as discussed extensively, is, half the time, simply not intervening) not only have they never done so, but also they never quite cross the line into saying the party should join the Ruby Vanguard or aid them - and indeed, they defend against it - so what does this achieve? It feels like they're asking for a story in which the party stands idly by, which isn't much of a story nor, if I may connect this briefly to the real world, a political stance anyone should be proud of.

That's honestly the frustration with the gods and the "what if the Vanguard has a point" conversations in-game. What do we do then? Do we allow the organization that will murder anyone for pretty much any reason that loosely ties into their goals run rampant? The group that (perhaps unwittingly, but then again, Otohan's blades had that poison) disrupted magic world-wide, and caused people who had the misfortune to live at nexus points to be teleported (most, as commoners, without means of return). While also fomenting worldwide unrest?

Those were the arguments before the trip to Ruidus; with the reveal of the Vanguard's goals to invade Exandria, the situation becomes even more dire. Do you let the Imperium take over the planet?

And do the arguments against the gods even hold up? If Ludinus is so angry at them for the Calamity, what does it say that he destroyed Western Wildemount's first post-Calamity society for entirely selfish means? (What does it say about the validity of vengeance as a motivator?) What does it say that Laudna told Imogen she could always just live in a cottage quietly without issue before the solstice even happened? (Would this still be true if the Imperium controls the world?) What does it say that when faced with a furious, grieving party and the daughter she keeps telling herself was her reason for all of this, Liliana can't provide an answer to the question of what the gods have done other than that their followers will retaliate...for, you know, the Vanguard's endless list of murders. (That is how the Vanguard and Imperium tend to think, huh? "How dare your face get in the way of my boot; how dare you hit me back when I strike you.") She can't even provide a positive answer - why is Predathos better - other than "I feel it", even though Imogen and Fearne know firsthand that Predathos can provide artificial feelings of elation. Given all the harm Ludinus has done in pursuit, why isn't the conclusion "the gods should have crashed Aeor in such a way that the tech was unrecoverable?"

Even as early as the first real discussion on what the party should do, the fandom always stopped short of saying "no, Imogen's right, they should join up with the people who killed half the party," it was always "no, she didn't really mean it, she just was trying to connect with her mother." Well, she's connected with her mother, and at this point the party doesn't even care about the gods particularly (their only divinely-connected party member having died to prevent the Vanguard from killing all of them). So they will stop the Vanguard; as Ashton says, the means are unforgiveable. As Laudna says, it's not safe to bet on Predathos's apathy. As Imogen says, she's done running; the voice that she used to think of as a lifeline belongs to someone she doesn't trust. So I guess my question is: if they're stopping the people who are trying to kill the gods (and defense of the gods isn't remotely their personal motivation)...do you think the next phase of the campaign is Bells Hells personally killing the gods? Reconstructing the Aeor tech and hoping none of their allies notice? How does this end? Does your ideology ever get enacted? Or is this entirely moot and pointless and the story ends with Bells Hells saying "well, I'm really glad we stopped the people who [insert list of Vanguard atrocities from above]; none of us follow the gods or plan to, but honestly, the status quo we return to is preferable to whatever nightmare Ludinus had concocted in his violent quest for power and revenge"?

#i've got a lot to do today so I think I'm done posting but #cr spoilers #i called that this particular cohort of fans had empathy only for those like them and were terrified of player agency like. 18 mos ago #and i have never been proven wrong. zero analysis just a constant demand that everyone coddle their feelings and confirm their biases #literally will straight up fabricate lore and cry you're disrespecting a pretend person for not including it in your considerations #absolutely SHIT understanding of actual lore. utter incapacity to follow a logical throughline to its conclusion #it's like. wow. wonder why you're so focused on hypocrisy and you overreact to the word selfish #the reason they hate or fear orym (they say they don't...but that just means they want him to go to a reeducation camp instead of die) #is bc i think they are truly terrified of the idea that people can not just hold opinions that are against theirs but stand fast by them #easier to stan the villain because then they die and you can feel wronged and betrayed and wallow in a sense of continual victimhood #than to like a character who might last long enough to call you the idiot and asshole that you are #but it's also funny bc literally if orym weren't there in the latest convo the conclusion is the same. #ashton's had the same opinion of the vanguard the whole time (and it's not positive) but that's not under scrutiny #probably bc it doesn't allow people to be ghoulish in the most cringeworthy way possible

[effloradox]

Forehead kisses with Thomas Thorne?

I am not immune to the urge to give this man a kiss on the forehead 🥺

Also I combined this with a request asking for Thomas with the prompt ‘I thought you’d like some company’, I think it fit quite well!

Life in Button House was almost always the same no matter the day. You’d only been a resident of the house for a few years after a rather nasty accident on the grounds but you tried to make the best of your living situation (if you’ll excuse the obvious flaws with the expression). The other residents had been quick to welcome you into their daily routines and with time you got used to everyone’s quirks. Eventually you could ignore Lady Button screaming as she fell out of a window every night and you got used to things like Julian’s crassness and Kitty’s eagerness.

You hadn’t believed in life after death in your previous life so the last thing you’d expected was to fall in love during your unexpected afterlife. Thomas had been so shy when you first died; he’d barely been able to string a sentence together in your presence, so different from the poet that waxed lyrically every moment he was able to that you’re used to now. You’d managed to do many things during your life but true love seemed to have evaded you until after your death. It hadn’t taken long for you to fall in love with Thomas, and it had taken him even less time. Waking up next to him had become part of your daily routine so easily that you now couldn’t imagine him not being there with you every morning.

Things hadn’t changed much in the weeks since Heather passed until a new car had pulled up on the driveway of the house, and with it some new living residents. The new owners had put most of the others on edge though, that much was clear. You’d overheard some of their plans for the house and they made a lot of sense to you, some of them had been things you’d briefly mentioned before you’d died; but to some of the others the suggestions had been an affront. Thomas had seemed particularly upset about the mention that the library be repurposed into a recreation room; he'd disappeared not long after hearing that.

You’d given Thomas his space initially but after a few hours without his presence you’d set about looking for him. You’d checked all his usual haunts, leaving his sighing place until last in the hopes that his mood hadn’t dropped to that resort. You weren’t particularly surprised to find him there if you were being honest with yourself but it pained you to know that it was troubling him to that extent. You poked your head through the door, watching him for a moment before stepping through the door. You’d been about to announce your presence when the man in question had turned quite unexpectedly, letting out a small shriek when he spotted you.

“Good lord!”

“Sorry!” His expression softened towards you once he’d calmed down, panic no longer evident on his face.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I thought you’d like some company?”

“From you? Always, my love.” You appeared at his side in an instant, his arm wrapping around your waist automatically. It doesn’t take long until you’re settled in his lap, both of you watching the new residents moving things out of their car.

“The others have a plan to try and scare the new owners away.” Thomas let out a soft noise to acknowledge your comment, his eyes still trained on the new couple. “Julian’s practising moving things with his ability to see if he can unnerve them.”

“And you?”

You hadn’t thought much of your phone being on your person when you died, whilst you still have it it’s not like you can use it for much. Just making notes, taking scenic pictures, and playing the few games you had downloaded that work without an internet connection. What it had left you with was an ability similar to Robin’s wherein you could mess with electronic devices to a certain degree. It would definitely be a useful skill if you decided you wanted the couple gone. You'd heard Julian mention it when they’d been plotting to scare the living away and it had been part of why you left to go and find Thomas.

“I understand why them being here upsets some of the others, and that some of their plans have upset you. But, I don’t think it’s such a bad thing. Wouldn’t it be nice if they did make the house look good again?”

“I suppose.” You can hear the uncertainty in Thomas’ tone and it’s all you can do to press a soft kiss to his forehead. The effect is instantaneous as you practically felt the tension seep out of his body, the frown lines you'd kissed disappearing in seconds. The two of you remain on the windowsill until you hear Julian shouting your name from somewhere in the house, no doubt to enlist you into trying to scare the new couple. You begrudgingly lift yourself from Thomas’ lap, taking one of his hands in yours as you move to walk towards the door.

“Come with me?” You can see in his eyes that he doesn’t want to, but he stands anyway and you can’t resist the urge to lift your entwined hands to place a kiss on his hand. The tender gesture turns him bashful as he struggles to make eye contact with you. It takes a moment for him to compose himself and you watch as he seems to steel himself before he speaks.

“Being your slave, what should I do but tend upon the hours, and times of your desire?” It takes you a moment to place his words, you’re sure you’ve heard them before and it takes your brain a few seconds to connect them to who wrote them.

“Shakespeare?” You know you’ve guessed correctly when Thomas’ face lights up like the sun. His smile is one of your favourite things about him, it never fails to make your heart flutter and this time is no exception.

“Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind; still constant in a wondrous excellence.” It’s Thomas’ turn to lift your hands as he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Nothing good can last forever though. The moment is ruined when you hear a frustrated sounding Julian shouting your name once again, only this time he sounds infinitely closer. You can’t help but sigh with frustration at the interruption.

“Let’s go and find the others shall we?”

“Lead the way my dear.”

#my writing #fics #requested #thomas thorne x reader #bbc ghosts x reader #gn!reader

[hmslusitania]

Unified theory of Indiana Jones and The Mummy? My interest has been piqued 🍿 👀

Okay so I think it goes without saying that these movies clearly take place in the same universe, just off the bat.

That said, we also know that several of the (unseen) previous generation of characters had careers that would've taken them to similar geographic areas -- notably Howard Carnahan and Abner Ravenwood, who were Egyptologists of roughly a similar age.

So, it would make complete sense to me if, at some point, they were contracted to work on the same project. Whether or not they got along, whether or not they worked well together, is immaterial. The important part is that they both brought their daughters. Now, according to the wikis for the respective franchises, Evelyn (Carnahan) O'Connell was born in 1903, and Marion Ravenwood was born in 1909, and young girls, as Marion would've been, tend to heavily imprint on older girls especially when they're stuck together in a camping situation. And I think Evy, a perpetual baby sister, would've jumped at the chance to get to be the cool older sister type friend.

They would've corresponded after that.

In 1925, Marion writes to Evy about her father's dashing new student who she's fallen hopelessly in love with (and an equally passionate disavowal of the man only a few months later).

In 1926, Evy writes back to tell Marion that she's been part of an expedition to help recover the site of Hamunaptra (leaving out the magic, because that would be just a shade too far; adding the fact she may not have found much treasure but she did find a husband in the post script -- prompting many more questions from Marion).

They write each other about Evy's journey to respectability as an archaeologist and Egyptologist, and her impassioned arguments with another young archaeologist out of the University of Chicago, who Evy pointedly refused to name in any of her letters out of disrespect (the nature of their academic disagreements is simple -- Evy's seen magic with her own eyes and brings a layer of credulity to her interpretation of sites that Indy just cannot fathom. Well. Not yet, anyway).

They write when Alex was born, when Marion moves to Nepal.

In 1933, Evy writes her about the Oasis at Ahm Shere, but she leaves out the part where she died and was resurrected, and the part where the entire oasis was sucked into the afterlife afterwards.

(In 1935, Indy sees Magic in India, and he thinks briefly of his continuing journal publication feud with the British-Egyptian Egyptologist E. O'Connell, and then he locks this information away in a part of his brain he does not touch lest he go mad.)

In 1936, Marion writes her about the search for the Ark, about her father's old student -- a professor now himself -- coming back into her life. She mentions the pit of snakes, being entombed, and the deaths of the Nazi bastards. She doesn't mention the magic, the actual Ark of the Covenant saving their asses. It would sound crazy, after all.

In 1937, they see each other in person for the first time in over a decade by chance at the Cairo Museum. This is before the events of the Last Crusade, so for the moment, Marion and Indy are more-or-less together and more-or-less happy about it. Rick and Evy are there for their standard work reasons, delivering some recently excavated artefacts.

At first, everything goes fine. Evy and Marion recognise each other, and as nearly life-long penpals tend to do, take a moment to remember how to speak to each other in person, but then they're thrilled for the opportunity to do so. The four of them agree to get dinner together and it's at dinner while they're talking about their work that Indy makes the connection between E. O'Connell, academic rival, and Evelyn O'Connell, and Evy makes the connection that Marion's "Indy" is actually that very same Henry Jones Jr who Evy's wanted nothing more than to knock senseless with the Book of Life for over a decade.

In the ensuing loud argument that nearly gets them thrown from the restaurant and during which Rick and Marion decide they're best friends now, both Evy and Indy accidentally reveal their hands as regards magic, archaeology, and the realities therein. They part dinner as wary allies.

The academic detente lasts just until Marion writes Evy about the dissolution of her relationship with Indy and concurrent birth of their son, and then the rivalry's back on.

Frankly, all of them prefer it this way.

(As an additional aside, while he was serving in WWI, Jonathan Carnahan met and befriended {""befriended""} an Australian nurse, who had the mixed fortune to lose all of her father's titled cousins during the war and returned home as the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher)

#the ghost ship scribbles #indiana jones #the mummy #wilddragonflying #with the exception of checking birth years in the respective wikis #this is all just off the cuff #so if there's incorrect continuity don't @ me

[chaotic-multi-fandom]

Something that I love and appreciate about Ash Lynx that I don't see many people talking about is his lack of desire for personal revenge. It's such a small and obvious detail, that I don't think we stop to think about it enough, but Ash is not consumed by revenge. Even after everything that happened to him, we never see him express a desire to kill or torture Dino, or anyone else who hurt him, we just wants to be free. Even with researching banana fish he's just trying to figure out what's wrong with his brother so that he can cure him, his motive is never revenge. Wanting to destroy and make Dino suffer would be a completely understandable reaction, yet all he wants to do is prevent other children from experiencing the same things he did.

The only times we see Ash express a desire for revenge, is when people he loves are hurt. This is seen several times with Eiji, such as when he's shot and he chases the men and shoots them with rage in his eyes, or when Shorter dies and he kills Dawson as he begs for mercy. This is why at the start I emphasised *personal revenge*. But I just think that his overall lack of thirst for revenge and just deep desire to be free is an extremely important facet of his character, that really just highlights who he is on the inside beyond all the violence and suffering, and is also very telling of his strength.

This is also one of the reasons why I dislike the "yut lung is just ash without eiji" rhetoric, because I feel like it does such a disservice to both their characters. Yes, they've lived through similar trauma and are in several ways parallels to each other, but they're different people with or without someone to support them. First of all, before Eiji, Ash did have someone, Shorter, and he had other people he cared about such as Skipper and his gang. Obviously none where as influencial or life changing as Eiji was, but painting him as being completely alone before meeting Eiji simply isn't true. Secondly, Ash and Yut lung are very separate people with separate personalities and with indivual nuances to their stories despite their similarites. One of these is the desire for revenge. As I established Ash isn't consumed by personal revenge, but Yut Lung very much is, his entire first arc is his search for revenge agaisnt his own brothers, whom he wants to kill.

Yut Lung isn't Ash without Eiji, he's just Yut Lung. He's a different person with different responses and reactions to the world around him, and of course, having someone to love and care for him would be monumental, but he'd still be a completely different character to Ash, and in my personal opinion, would have a harder time accepting that love than him (as we see briefly with his connection with Sing).

Of course there's also differences in their stories that I think are worth noting. I won't do it on this post because frankly I've been procrastinating making lunch and I need to do that rn. But reducing Yut Lungs's character to an "ash without eiji" is truly tragic in my opinion, and not only a disservice to him as a character but also to his story. Yut lung isn't just there to be a parallel to Ash, and I feel like we sometimes forget that. Anyway I'll get more into the nuances of Yut lung's character, and the nuances of his and Ash's stories and they way they both parallel and differ from each other if y'all want. If not I'll probably forget, and it'll just live in my mind, keeping me awake at 4 am.

#banana fish #banana fish rant #banana fish analysis #ash lynx #eiji okumura #ash and eiji #yut lung lee #ash lynx appreciation #yut lung lee appreciation #tw sa #tw violence #anime

[casdeans-pie]

Part 4 of Flustered Castiel Accidentally Explodes Lightbulbs And Causes Power Outages Especially When Dean's Fingers Are In His Hair

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3.

Happy birthday to me! This is my birthday gift to myself so it's deliciously self indulgent for the final part. I honestly could have just kept going with this forever, I adore flustered!Cas and his angel powers lmao

This part got so big I couldn't put the whole chapter in the tumblr post sorry!

Taglist: @dreampencil , @mymisfitsbabe , @fivefeetfangirl , @kerryweaverlesbian , @give-bucky-his-boyfriend-back , @mooshroomister , @castielsbloodynose , @the-great-pumpkin-67 , @casavanse , @homoangel - thanks all for your interest, hope you like the conclusion!!

-----Read on AO3-----

---------

If stubbornness was a sin, Dean knew he would be going straight to hell when he died. Again.

There were a million reasons that Dean could think of for why Cas had distanced himself (that buzzed around his brain like insistent bees whenever he lay down to sleep at night) but if they didn’t talk about them then none of them were real. The ache in his chest at Cas’s absence, familiar from when he used to leave them for stretches at a time, felt like it dug in deeper and deeper with every passing day – but he still just couldn’t bring himself to talk to him about it.

The biggest surprise became the slow realisation that the saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ wasn’t just some made up cliché bullshit that people said to each other, because seeing Cas, even briefly before he scurried away, made Dean’s heart sing like a lovesick teenage girl.

Sam only suffered through so much before he started using his Sad-Sam-Eyes whenever he saw them both, hoping they would finally sort out whatever was going on between them, but he didn’t mention it otherwise. Somehow that made it even worse. If Sam told them to talk to each other, at least that could have been a good excuse. But no.

Dean had to do something on his own.

He had to.

He’d started all of this by being a jerk about Cas’s powers, so it was time to dip into that Dean Winchester Courage, have a real conversation about all of this, and face losing his best friend – the Angel that he loved – head on.

------

Then they finally had a hunt together. Alone.

Dean’s bloody machete hung in a loose grip by his side as he kicked the toe of his boot at the decapitated body on the ground beside him. The head lay nearby.

“Think we finally got ‘em all,” Dean said with a grin. His clothes were covered in splashes of blood, and he could feel some drying on his cheek that he was itching to scratch off with his nail. “I love a good vamp nest clear-out, but if I’d have known there were gonna be this many, I would’ve brought Sam as extra back-up.” Dean didn’t want to mention that the reason he’d told Sam to stay behind in the first place was because he’d finally stopped being chickenshit scared about sorting this thing out with Cas. “Not that we didn’t handle it.” He gestured towards the headless bodies scattered around them with his machete.

Cas didn’t reply. He’d been quiet in the ride over and had kept his distance for the whole fight.

Okay. Time’s up. Time to do this. Dean took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. “Cas, listen-”

“Dean!” Cas yelled, slamming into him just as the sound of a gunshot exploded nearby.

Dean went hurtling down as another gunshot rang out. He landed heavily – the floor winded him and disorientated him enough that he couldn’t get straight back up, and he shook his head rapidly to try to clear it.

There were sounds of Cas wrestling with the vampire nearby. Dean watched dazedly as the vampire snarled and bared his fangs as he threw a punch at Cas’s nose, and his fist connected with a thud. But that gave Cas the opportunity to wrench the gun out of the vampire’s weakened grasp, and he tossed it aside, making it skitter harmlessly across the floor into a dark corner of the warehouse.

Red bloomed through the top of Cas’s trench coat on his left shoulder.

“Cas!” Dean warned, finally scrambling to his feet just as the vampire grabbed Cas and threw him down with a hiss onto the dusty, blood-spattered floor.

The vampire loomed over him with an open mouth full of needle-sharp teeth just as Cas sat up with a grunt and threw up his hand with his palm out. Dean recognised the gesture, and he immediately braced himself for the blinding light of Cas’s angelic smitey powers, but only a faint sputtering glow emerged from his hand.

After a moment, where Cas stared at his hand in confusion, the vampire hissed and lunged.

He never got any further.

Dean’s machete swung in a clean shining arc through the vampire’s neck, and he collapsed in a heap like a puppet with cut strings. The spray of blood caught Cas, smattering his face and hair with even more crimson alongside what currently trickled out of his nose and soaked his shoulder.

Dean groaned in relief and threw the machete to the concrete floor with a clang. “Definitely the last one,” he declared with a deep breath. “Damn that got close for a second there. Come on, up you get.” Dean offered out a hand to help Cas, but he pushed himself up with a groan instead, pointedly not looking at the hand as if he hadn’t noticed it.

Dean tried to shrug it off again, just like he had all the other times that Cas refused to touch him recently, but he could feel the hurt burning in his throat and behind his eyes. He clenched his fist so tightly it almost hurt as he returned it to his side.

“You okay?” Dean asked instead with a frown, thinking of the gunshots, and noticing the blood stain on Cas’s shoulder increasing in size.

“Yes. The first bullet got me, but the second bullet missed. I think it went clean through. Didn’t hit anything vital.” Cas touched his shoulder and winced, then observed Dean – his blue eyes raking him up and down from head to foot. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

Dean shook his head, the mixture of hurt and concern and happiness at the closest attention he’d got from Cas in weeks making his words come out harsher than he intended when he snapped, “Nope. My bullet-proof friend pushed me out of the way, and then revealed that he’s not so bullet-proof today.”

Cas smiled ruefully. “Ah. Yes. Looks that way.” He dusted his trench coat off as best he could and lifted an arm to wipe his sleeve across his nose – though he only succeeded in smearing the dust and blood around. He closed his eyes and rubbed again.

Dean pushed down his confusing cocktail of emotions, like he always did, and forced on a smile. “You’re just making it worse, buddy. Why’s killing vamps always such a bloody job?” He reached over without thinking, while Cas was still rubbing at his nose. “Nose doesn’t look broken at least, but your shoulder’s probably gonna need stitches while you’re low on power like this.”

Dean’s fingers had barely even grazed the fabric on Cas’s shoulder before Cas flinched back violently.

The lights in the warehouse groaned and buzzed as they flickered and dimmed, and then just as quickly returned to normal.

Cas’s eyes were wide as he took another step back.

Dean felt all his confusion sharpen into a frustrated stab of white-hot anger. He gestured violently at the ceiling. “Okay. Y’know what. That’s it. Let’s talk. What the hell is going on with you, Cas? Why have you been avoiding me? What’s the deal with the lights?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

“Nothing I- are you even hearing yourself right now? You’re really gonna admit to keeping secrets again after everything we’ve been through? And- hey, what’s up with your face? What are you doing?”

Cas had screwed his eyes together so tight that it pinched his whole expression. “Concentrating.”

“On what? This conversation that you’re trying not to be in?”

“On using my Grace to heal my shoulder and clean all of this off, but it’s not…” Cas gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. They glowed faintly. “It’s not working.”

Dean took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, Cas. You know you’re low on power right now, you really want to use up what little juice you got left before you get chance to recharge? The motel’s only twenty minutes away.” He scowled. “You can even sit in the back. Far away from me, like you want.”

Dean didn’t wait for a response, he turned, reached down for his abandoned machete, and stalked back to Baby.

By the time Cas finally got into the car – in the back – Dean had already texted Sam to tell him that the nest had been cleared out and they would be spending the night at the motel.

They’d be back at the bunker tomorrow, and then Cas could keep avoiding him like before. Or maybe he’d finally just admit that he wanted to leave… and he’d go. The thought made Dean clench the steering wheel with a grip that made his knuckles white.

He couldn’t imagine his life without Cas in it.

The ride to the motel was tense and silent except for Baby’s engine that Dean pushed harder than he should. (The twenty-minute ride only took them ten. Cas didn’t comment on it.)

As soon as they were through the door Dean toed off his shoes, flicked on all the lights, and went to wash his hands in the bathroom. He didn’t look back to see what Cas was doing. It was none of his business. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then what did he care. (He tried to tell himself, even as the ache in his chest pounded and felt cavernous.)

Dean splashed some water on his face and gripped the sides of the grubby sink. Water plinked pink from his chin into the chipped basin, as the vampire blood washed away down the plughole.

After a deep breath Dean grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his face, careful not to inhale at the same time – he’d learned a long time ago that it was best not to know what motel towels smelt like – and reached for the first aid kit he always left in the bathroom when they went on hunts.

Sufficiently calmed down, and feeling less like his heart was caught in the vice grip of a homicidal ghost, Dean turned and emerged back into the main room. He froze mid-step at what he saw: Cas had his head in his hands, perched on the edge of his bed, while the blood stains from his bullet wound were soaking through his coat down his arm. He hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, and there seemed to be a particularly troubled tenseness to the set of his shoulders. Even more than usual. Despite their strained relationship recently, it cut Dean deeply to see him like that – so clearly suffering and so human.

Dean sat heavily onto his own bed opposite Cas. The old springs creaked loudly and protested at the sudden weight. “Alright. Coat off.”

Cas startled and snapped his head up. The lamp beside his bed flickered weakly. “What?”

Dean’s usual enthusiasm for the phenomenon of the flickering lights wasn’t his priority this time, and he pushed his curiosity aside. “Stitches,” Dean said simply, brandishing the first aid kit.

“I don’t need them,” Cas grumbled, looking away. “Once my Grace has recharged enough it will heal on its own.”

“Oh okay, so you’re just going to wait and see if your mojo recharges faster than you bleed? And you’re, what, expecting me to just sit here while we find out? Because I am not okay with that.”

“Yes.”

“Cas. Just let me put some damn stitches in your damn shoulder.”

“No.” The muscles in Cas’s jawline clenched.

Dean scowled as he ran a hand through his hair. It was sticky and matted with drying blood, but that was nothing new. “Let me put it this way. You either take off your coat and shirt willingly, or I will tackle you to that bed and remove them myself” – the lamp flickered again – “so help me God, don’t think that I won’t. Your choice.” Dean had his eyes locked on Cas’s narrowed ones. “I will not let you suffer when I can do something about it. Yeah, you might heal it up yourself in an hour or two, but I’m not going to sit here watching you bleeding and in pain, when I can help. Don’t ask me to.”

“Dean… This is just… It’s a bad idea.”

“A bad idea? To stop you from bleeding out? C’mon man, you’re always healing me up after hunts, let me repay the favor for once. Besides, you took the shot meant for me – it should be me sitting there with the bullet hole.”

Cas went suddenly pale, and his eyebrows drew together in a serious line. “If it were, I would use up whatever Grace I had left to heal you.”

Oh.

Dean blinked in surprise.

Huh. But Cas had been avoiding him so much lately... He’d assumed he didn’t care anymore. “Uh,” Dean faltered, “no, that wouldn’t be okay either. I wouldn’t want that. But maybe I should teach you some basic first aid now that your mojo gets patchy sometimes.” He shook his head. That would require them to be in the same room for more than five minutes. Stupid suggestion. “Look, if you’d want to heal me that badly if we were swapped over here, that’s what I want to do to you right now, get it?”

“I um. I think so.” The line between Cas’s eyebrows grew deeper. “It’s fine now anyway. It barely hurts,” he lied, gripping his shoulder tightly.

“Sure. Okay, Black Knight.”

Cas squinted.

“The Black Knight – ‘‘tis but a flesh wound’? Guess you didn’t get Monty Python in the pop-culture upload. We’ll add it to the list we-” But Dean remembered that they didn’t watch movies together anymore. “Doesn’t matter. Just take your damn coat off, you stubborn son of a bitch.”

That finally cracked a smile onto Cas’s pale face. His lips twitched and the corners of his eyes crinkled endearingly.

Dean felt a strong flare of affection at seeing Cas’s smile, after seeing him looking so defeated before, that it immediately softened all of Dean’s concern-masked-as-irritation and he found himself smiling back. He’d missed this. So damn much.

“I’ll patch you up,” Dean said gently, “then you get dibs on the first shower, since you’re the one covered in the most blood. Winchester tradition.”

“I don’t need-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you can just magic your mess away when your power’s back on, but you’re really just gonna sit here like that until then?”

Cas looked down at himself. “You have a point.”

“Always do. Looks like you’ll just have to enjoy shitty motel water pressure like the rest of us.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “And going first means you get the hottest water.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said.

“Then we can both go to sleep so you can recharge your batteries. You can sleep when you’re like this, right? But stitches first. After that there’ll be no touching involved,” Dean added, before he could stop himself. As much as he enjoyed talking to Cas again, it only served as a depressing reminder that they weren’t like this anymore. He gave a sad, weak little laugh, and even he could hear the pain in his voice when he said, “Y’don’t even have to look at me.”

Cas immediately slid off his bed with a rustle, and he was on his knees in front of Dean in the time it took for him to open his mouth to ask what was happening. His eyes shined wetly in the dingy motel room lighting as he gazed up intensely – vulnerable and raw – into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, no. This wasn’t supposed to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” Cas said in a voice thick with emotion. “Doing this – distancing myself… It was supposed to make things better, but it… only made everything worse. I hate being apart from you. I hate it. This wasn’t- it’s not- it’s not your fault.” He spoke haltingly, like he was struggling. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I- I don’t know how to explain-”

They were closer than they had been in weeks, and yet Dean could still feel the distance. His heart sunk. “This is starting to feel a whole lot like the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, man.”

Cas scrunched his face up, and Dean knew he was trying to think of a way to say what he meant. He wondered if Angels weren’t very big talkers in their true forms. It was reminiscent of when they first met, and how Cas used to struggle with sarcasm and slang.

Cas already told him once that he’d only started to feel real, strong emotions (Dean called them his Real Boy Feelings) since rescuing him from Hell, so it made sense that he still struggled sometimes. And anyway, Dean had been human his whole life and it wasn’t like he was much better at the whole sharing your feelings crap.

Cas finally looked up through his lashes at him – his expression wary. “Hold out your hand, Dean.”

“What?”

“Hold out your hand, please. I can show you what’s been going on.”

---- Read the rest on AO3 ----

#this series has been so much fun to write!!! thanks for all the kind comments!!! #destiel #destiel fanfiction #destiel ficlet #deancas #castiel's angel powers #flustered!castiel #pie's projects #my fanfiction

[i-smoke-chapstick]

‘COME ON EILEEN!, [PART FOUR]

-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Reader needs a break. Victor just needs her.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! This is a 4 part fic. AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is still in highschool). Gets a little hot and heavy at the end <3 no explicit smut, but a little bit of sexual tension. Victor pining for reader. Reader pining for a better, safer life. Some angst with a happy(ish) ending!

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR,

♫ “Oh my thoughts I confess, verge on dirty.” Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners

You swallow the words burning in your throat. Why did you save me? They play over and over again in your head, but you’re rendered speechless. You already know. The dots have connected.

His gaze is still flitting over you, wildly. Despite his stoic expression, his brow bones furrow a tad, and you recognize the familiar sensation of concern. He’s in love with you.

What the fuck.

He has you pushed up against an alleyway wall. You reminice on what might have been- when you look into the glint of the streetlamps in his eyes. You still wonder- if it weren’t for Jim Gordon, would Victor even know your name? Or would he have found you in some other way? The thought makes you dizzy, a bit sick to your stomach.

Or maybe the feeling is coming from the bruise forming on your neck and shoulders from where Maroni’s goon had held you tightly. You don’t care.

Victor stays silent through the whole ordeal- you involuntarily flinch when you feel his gloved hands come up to push a stray strand of your hair back, revealing a dark mark forming. You swallow as you watch his jaw clench.

“I’m okay.” Is all you whisper- but it dies on your tongue. He notices, of course, and finally puts some space between the two of you.

A familiar scilence falls over. The distant sounds of police sirens ring. You briefly wonder how your life will be from this moment foward. No more school. No more Jim. No more fake friends. You want to smile at that, but you’re not strong enough. It all stings.

You briefly wonder what Victor will even do. Turn you back to Falcone? Swallow his feelings, push them down?

He fidgets with his trigger finger, and finally lets out a short huff of relief. You watch him recooperate.

“Good work out there,” Is all he says, voice forced. His teeth are gritted and you can tell he’s still processing. The adrenaline of running away pumps between you two, and you can feel your heart move the air of the shirt you’re wearing. You shiver.

“Thank you.” You mumble, and you finally feel the weight of everything come crashing down. Maybe it’s you being childish- but you feel tears well up in your eyes. You feel petulant in comparison to the strangley kept man in front of you. He has years on you, and yet you both are in complete disarray.

He perks his head up at your tears, and his lips part a bit.

He doesnt say anything, but you feel your eyes widen when he pulls you into a long deep hug. You feel his leather clad arms clutch onto you, and inhale deeply into your hair.

You sob as he holds you- head spinning. The scilence doesn’t ease your worries- but his touch does. In the moment; that’s enough.

The two of you ended up back at Falcones mansion somehow. It was all blurry through your tears- you weren’t quite sure when his embrace became him whisking you up bridal style- carrying you blocks down. You held onto him the whole way. He didn’t say a single word.

He finally dropped you on your feet when you two were in the mansion, an empty living room. You rubbed your eyes and felt the balls of your feet drop onto the hard wood floor. You could smell fire wood, and you glanced around- recognizing the room as a vacant bedroom.

“You…y’know, okay?” He spoke, for the first time since your walk back. His words sounded nonchalant, but you could hear the undertone of concern. He gave a weak thumbs up as he spoke, demonstrating.

No, you wanted to say. You had to carry me four blocks back. My life is fucked. I’m a fugitive. An assassin’s in love with me. My only friend hates me. Falcone wants me dead. But you cleared your throat, voice raw from sobbing and sniffling.

“Um. Yeah.”

He nodded. His thoughts were swimming like yours.

He went to leave the room, but stopped at the door. He turned around, finger wagging.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He scolded, and somehow it made you smile at the irony.

“What are you going to do, Vic?” He paused at the nickname, eyes softening. “You gonna kill me on your bosses orders? Or are you going to take me under your wing, make me one of your henchwomen, or whatever?” Your words were bitter. You mentally wanted to punch yourself. The man just saved your ass.

“…No ones going to hurt you.” He whispered, and his tone was genuine. It was in this moment- you wanted to kiss him. But the distance between you two was far too great. “Im gonna have a…talk…with the boss.” He muttered, eyes never straying. You raised an eyebrow. “You’re too important to kill.” The words were a double edged sword.

“Because I’m a good informant?” You questioned, tone still hostile.

“…Because I care about you.” Even though he hesitated to say the words, he still said them so casually. So nonchalantly.

Before you could say a thing- he walked out the door, turning on his heel. You flopped down on the bed, finally letting yourself sleep through your nausea.

When you awoke, the fire place was extinguished. You sat up from a nightmare. It was of the man you’d seen die some time ago. He’d taken the place of Jim Gordon- pointing a gun at you, choruses of Why didn’t you save me? ringing out.

With a start, you clutched the sheets. You jumped when you saw Victor, sitting in a chair, looking over at you. He was playing with your hair, effectively unsurprised when you awoke. His grip only tightened. You winced at the pull of his fingers, and a darker look spread on his face.

“Victor,” You breathed, “Hi.”

“Hell-o.” He drawled out, voice settled at a comfortable pitch.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“…Why?”

“Oh, y’know…bordem. Lack of things to kill these days.” He shrugged it off, quipping. You rolled your eyes. He was in a much better mood now, it seemed. More to his usual, dry humor loving self.

“Your hand.” You motioned to the hand in your hair.

“Yeah, that’s staying there, sorry about that.” He gave a fake grimace, nodding.

“…Why?” You repeated once more, and he let out a low blow of air.

“You just don’t give it up, do you?”

You shook your head. Scilence befell. You watched his adam’s apple bobble in his throat.

“I…don’t want…you to…die.” He spoke each word slowly- as if he was unsure of the words coming out of his own mouth.

“Gee, thanks.” Sarcasm laced its way through your words, and he shrugged. “I like you too.” You added on, in a whisper, and his eyes narrowed in on you instantly.

“What?”

“Nothing,”

“Repeat that.” His voice darkened.

“I said I like you too.”

You only now realized how close your faces were.

In a quick moment, he threaded his hands through your hair, and pulled your neck back. You let out a yelp at the force. His breathing turned heavier as he buried his face into your neck- inhaling your scent once more. You felt his lips hover over your jugular, his eyes closing in bliss.

“What do you mean by that?” He gritted out. His voice was low, dangerous. You were scared…but you subconsciously clenched your thighs together.

“…I’m in love with you too, Vic.” You whispered against him, and it was all he needed to lose whatever thread of self control was keeping him sane. He pressed a gentle kiss to your throat, before another, and another, and soon enough he was licking a long stripe from your throat to your lips, which he captured in a skilled movement.

You kissed back, surroundings unfamiliar. He was the only person you could trust. He was the only person you had. The only part of your new situation that would stay with you. Yeah, your life might be fucked, but you’d rather do it in style. You’d rather spend a life time sipping milkshakes with Zsasz, learning how to shoot a gun, smelling the gunpowder and cologne on his clothes. You’d rather kiss him in this moment, than figure all of your shit out. He was devoted to you. He protected you. He carried you home. He was the only thing garunteed to stay.

You shivered when he stopped his movements, resting his head against yours. He let out a dry chuckle against your lips, and you felt the ghost of a smile on yours.

You don’t know whats waiting for you in the morning. If there will be a bounty on your head. You don’t know if you’ll ever find a greater purpose.

But you know Victor will be there. And that’s enough for you…for now.

#gotham #x reader #gotham x reader #batman #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #batman x reader #gotham villains x reader #dc comics #victor zsasz x reader #gotham victor zsasz #victor zsasz headcanons #victor zsasz gotham #victor zsasz #final part

[reilly310]

Outlander: Blood of My Blood

art credit: @SimonWrightSays

I'm dusting off my blog for the first time in a looong time with some thoughts about the new prequel series.

I've been on the fence about the new series, but after learning that Claire's parents' story will be included, I found myself more intrigued. Then seeing this (amazing) sketch of young Jamie and Claire got my imagination flowing.

I'm mostly interested to see how the writers will integrate the two storylines, as I would think they'll have to do. Given at least one (and perhaps both) of Claire's parents can time travel:

Will one of them be from the past (her father, I presume) and, in a kind of reverse Outlander, meet/fall in love with the other in the future?

And/or will both of them travel back to Jamie's parent's time (purposely or by accident) and will they meet/be friends (or foes) of each other's for a time?

Will they give birth to Claire in the past or the present? Will Jamie and Claire know each other (or at least meet briefly) as very young children but be too young to remember that encounter/relationship? (See picture above..and yes, I know there's a 5 year age difference in OL but just indulge me here because that picture is so cute. Maybe, more realistically, when Claire is 5, they are present for Jamie's birth instead. Isn't one of the rules of time travel in OL that you have to have a connection to where you're traveling to? Since Claire went through the stones the first time by accident, could she have landed where/when she did because of that connection to Jamie / his family from her past even if she didn't consciously remember it?)

Do Claire's parents actually die in a car crash or was she just told this by Uncle Lamb as a way to explain their absence? Did they get stuck in the past instead and spend the rest of their lives trying to return to her? Do Jamie's parents find out their secret and try to help them in this endeavor to return to the future?

Or maybe they perish in the past and Uncle Lamb, a time traveler himself, brings Claire to the present to keep her safe.

Because (I don't think) there's any book reference to Claire's parents other than her mentioning how they died and that she doesn't really remember them, the possibilities related to their storyline are endless.

Having put these thoughts out into the universe, though, I'm likely setting myself up for disappointment if/when the series airs and does none of these things. However, a connection of some sort between the two couples will have to be established in order for the series to have a flow that makes sense and is not disjointed.

PS: I read the first 3 books and part of the 4th before setting them aside years ago, so I don't consider myself a book reader. Perhaps there's information in the later books that would make the potential connections I've imagined for this new series impossible. If so, please let me know.

PPS: . Do we know if this prequel is intended to be a limited series (like the Yellowstone prequel "1883") or a series with multiple seasons? If it's a limited series of 10 episodes, they might be able to get away with two separate storylines that merge in some way only at the end. I just don't think I would find it as intriguing as one that's interconnected.

[fellthemarvelous]

Let's talk about Maggie and Aziraphale

Once again, I am just screenshotting my tweets and posting them here because I have more to say and Twitter's platform doesn't let me talk long enough uninterrupted.

Make way for more unhinged meta!

I cannot get this idea out of my head, and before you tell me that I'm crazy, just listen. Okay?

I think Aziraphale looks at Edinburgh as his Greatest Failure™️ because humanity and Crowley both paid the price for Aziraphale's mistake. It was a night that shook Aziraphale's confidence in himself, and it was a clear turning point for his understanding of shades of grey. He learned a valuable lesson at a horrific cost.

There is no possible way he has forgiven himself for Edinburgh.

When you are supposed to be the epitome of good, every single failure that carries any sort of weight sticks with you for the rest of your life because of the overwhelming guilt that comes with it. As someone who struggles with Catholic guilt...

Trust me. I know what I'm talking about.

Why does Maggie have a connection to a pub called the Resurrectionist, located in Edinburgh not far from the Gabriel statue in the cemetery where Wee Morag died and Crowley was sucked down into Hell? The Resurrectionist representing both Jesus Christ and Mr. Dalrymple.

Why does Aziraphale insist on taking the Bentley to Edinburgh with him?

He's scared to go back, and he's not risking Crowley's life again by bringing him along, but he takes the Bentley because it's an extension of Crowley, it makes him feel safe, and neither Heaven or Hell care for material objects and won't end up separating them again. It's a lifeline to Crowley while he's doing something without him and ensuring that Crowley won't be able to jump in and save him at the last minute if things go wrong.

He's scared to go back but he was getting extra copies of Every Day from one particular location nowhere near his bookshop before he even heard Jim singing it in the bookshop. And all of this ended up bringing him back to the statue of Gabriel where it all went wrong the first time Aziraphale and Crowley went to that cemetery together.

But I think the connection to Maggie is Elspeth. I keep going back and forth between her and Wee Morag, but Elspeth currently makes the most sense to me. I briefly wrote about the idea of lost souls and second chances here, but I'm still on the fence about it.

We don't know what Elspeth did with Aziraphale's money, but we know it was enough to turn her life around. We don't know who Maggie's great-great-grandmother is, but she has been keeping a little corner of the bookshop to "sell records" for Mr. Fell since the 1920s.

But if you look at the record art for Maggie's bookshop, some of them include all their tracks on the cover and they are telling actual stories. I've talked about Maggie's record shop before on this post. I'm still not sure what I believe, but the idea of it being Aziraphale's personal records keeps sticking with me. He's been around for a long time and there is a lot to keep up with.

Why is it so important to him that Maggie gets to dance with Nina? He told Nina he threw the ball so she would see that Maggie is in love with her, the same way he was going to use it to tell Crowley he loved him, but he was so delighted to see Maggie and Nina dance together.

And Aziraphale's love for Maggie isn't one-sided because she stays behind to help him even though she's up against something more powerful than herself. She refuses to leave him alone. She might be annoyed that he was interfering in her love life, but he's always been good to her and is probably the closest thing to family she has (we only ever see Crowley, Aziraphale and Nina talk to her).

She said she "had" brothers. Past tense. She stands up to Shax because she's no longer scared of...something. Nina tells Shax that Maggie is the bravest person she knows. Maggie comes up with the idea to spray the demons with the fire extinguishers. It might have been silly but it proves that humans are ready to fight back using whatever tools we have at our disposal.

Why didn't we know of her existence in season 1? We saw Maggie's chattering nun die onscreen. Was she one of Adam's additions to Aziraphale's bookshop? Where did she come from? Does Adam remember her face from when he was an infant? Sister Mary Loquacious (formerly) told Aziraphale and Crowley that the nuns had been very good at keeping records, but they all burned in the fire.

But Adam got a very good look at the faces of Sister Mary Loquacious and Sister Theresa Garrulous. He was an infant but he was still the son of Satan.

So is Maggie an Adam creation? Is she somehow related to Elspeth's existence? Why is she so important to Aziraphale?

#good omens #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #maggie and nina #elspeth and wee morag #chattering nuns

[666writingcafe]

The Bathroom

Asmo

"There you are, MC!" I exclaim, wrapping my arms around them in a hug. "I was wondering where you went."

"Well, I didn't want to get in the middle of your argument with Belphie, so I decided to explore the house a little," they reply. "It really is quite nice."

While I believe that MC initially intended on exploring the house, the fairly strong metallic smell on them tells me that they ended up doing something else.

With a certain brother of mine.

In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't even matter. After all, I was the one to pick them up, meaning that I was the first to see them. I just wish I was also the first to kiss them.

But that's neither here nor there. They're with me now, so it's not like I can't still do something with them, if they so choose.

"Wanna see something really cool?" I ask. MC shrugs.

"Sure." I grab their hand and guide them upstairs.

"So, part of why it's taken us so long to connect with you is because Barbatos was working on creating portals to our rooms at the House of Lamentation. One's difficult enough, let alone seven."

"Not to mention the other rooms you guys like," MC adds. "Like the observatory, or the library."

"Exactly." We stop in front of one of my doors, and I wrap my free hand around the knob. Opening it reveals my private bathroom. "In my case, I still wanted to visit this particular room so that I didn't have to fight with everyone else."

"Makes sense." We step inside the bathroom, and I close the door behind me. "Nothing appears to be out of place, I don't think. Then again, it has been a while since I've been in here, so perhaps things have changed while I was gone."

"Other than me getting more products, everything's stayed pretty much the same." I walk over to one of the benches near the bathtub and sit down, gesturing for MC to join me. "So, do you mind if I ask you a couple questions?"

"About...?"

"You." I briefly pause. "Well, regarding you, anyway. What's the deal with you and Solomon? I know you're his apprentice, but he seemed a bit too comfortable around you for him to just be your teacher. Does that make sense?" MC nods their head.

"He's also my roommate." Well, I didn't expect that response. I figured MC would say that they're dating Solomon--or at least, sleeping with him. Never in a million years would I imagine the two of them living together.

"How long has that been a thing?"

"Ever since we returned to the human world after our last visit to the Devildom. I basically made him move in with me." They look a little sheepish saying that. Was there more involved to that than a simple request?

"You do know about his...curse, don't you?"

"Which one? His immortality, or his cooking?" Well, then. That answers that question. I wonder who told MC about that particular little quirk of his. The immortality, I mean. Everyone knows about his cursed cooking.

"I guess..." MC trails off. "I didn't want Solomon to feel lonely. I know that he'll probably outlive me by a long shot, but I figured that I'd at least try to form a connection with him before I died. I know he has you and the other seventy-odd demons he has a pact with, but it's not the same thing as having another human in your inner circle. Not that your relationship with him isn't meaningless or invalid or anything like that--"

"I understand, MC." I gently pat their knee. "I'm glad he has you. You're one of the sweetest people I've ever known."

There it is again.

The scent from earlier.

It was pretty faint the first time, but now that I'm closer to MC, I can pick up on it more.

And it's familiar. Real familiar. Not nearly as intense as the last time, but there's no denying it.

"What was your second question, Asmo?"

"It's a bit more...personal." I don't want to make them uncomfortable, but at the same time, I have to know how to proceed.

"O-Okay." Good. I wish they were less nervous, but at least I have their permission to continue.

"When I ask this, I am not trying to be arrogant or narcissistic or anything like that. Rather, it's so that I can understand exactly how you're feeling so that I can help you." MC merely nods their head in response.

Here goes nothing.

"Am I turning you on as Azzy?" Their eyes widen, and they quickly cover their face with their hands.

"MC." I place a hand on their shoulder. "Breathe. It's okay." A few moments later, they sigh as they reveal their face again.

"Is it wrong for me to say yes?" they quietly ask. I kinda figured they did based on the way they were looking at me earlier, but I just needed them to confirm it.

What I didn't expect is for them to have reservations about it. They never let who or what they were attracted to stop them before. Is it a human world thing? Given the headlines I've seen, that's definitely a possibility.

"Why would it be wrong?"

"Because...this might sound a bit weird, but..." They pause, taking a deep breath. "I don't want to hurt my feelings."

Okay, now I'm confused. How would them liking me in drag hurt my feelings? I spent a lot of time putting this together, making sure I looked good in all the right places. If they hated me like this, it'd be a different story, but that's not what this is.

So, what is it?

Wait.

I wonder...

"Are you scared that I'm going to be upset because you happen to find this a bit more attractive than how I normally present myself?"

Nod.

Ah. I see.

Humans are weird sometimes. Particular this one.

"MC, as the Avatar of Lust, part of my job is to figure out how best to charm people. That's resulted in me wearing a lot of different costumes, as not everyone is going to like the same things. But those costumes are all based on who I am as a person. Some may be closer to reality than others, but that doesn't mean they're not me. So, it's totally cool if you like one version of me over another, because at the end of the day, you still like me, and that's all that matters."

"But I know how hard it was for you to get your powers to affect me in any way, and I didn't want you to feel like all that work was for nothing."

"It's not for nothing." I gently grab their hand. "I enjoy learning new things about you, MC. You're a really interesting individual, and I'm grateful that I've gotten the opportunity to get to know you."

They have a weird look on their face. I can't exactly pin down what they're trying to communicate, but whatever it is, it's a little intense.

"There's something that I've wanted to do since you arrived, but I didn't want to do it in front of prying eyes," MC murmurs.

Oh.

Oh.

Just to make sure I'm not mistaken, I lean in slightly. They don't move back.

But they don't remain still, either.

Instead, they close the gap between us by kissing me on the lips.

"I can barely contain myself right now," they whisper.

"Then don't."

Unfortunately, right as we get into the rhythm of our make-out session, there's a rather loud knock on the door.

Of course. It's Satan. He always does this whenever he thinks I'm taking too long in here.

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus

[incensuous]

LYNEY & LYNETTE (GENSHIN)

[CRASHES INTO YOUR LIVING ROOM] GREETINGS, I'M HERE TO TALK ABOUT OUR LORD AND SAVIORS, LYNEY AND LYNETTE

As you can imagine, they are not canon, but I'd argue they are the closest we have to siscon/brocon in all of Genshin. And the only playable twins (aside from Aether and Lumine)!!

Also, the post is gonna detail all about the new Fontaine quest, so SPOILERS ahead!

In the newest story quest, we first meet Lynette and shortly after her brother, Lyney. Right out the gate, it's clear they're very close. This is honestly the ONLY time a sibling relationship is this front and center, despite Genshin having other playable siblings. Lynette gives me tsundere vibes, and Lyney is your typical cheeky, charismatic magician. Lyney mentions he's surprised Lynette is talking to the player, as his sister typically only talks to him. We tease Paimon, our companion, for being talkative enough for the both of us.

We take a ride together and, Lyney mentions it gets boring seeing the same scenery, and out of the blue, Lynette responds, "So you mean it's still boring even when I'm riding with you?" It's a strangely jealous sounding question, and considering Lynette is a bit deadpan and tsundere, I take it as Lynette wanting to get a response out of her brother. (Spoiler, this isn't the only time she says something like this!) Lyney is embarrassed and responds, it's because Lynette doesn't talk much, and how it feels like being at home, with just the two of them.

When we learn of a decades old case in Fontaine, revolving around young missing women, Lyney turns very serious and says, "I just imagined for a second what I would do if Lynette were to suddenly disappear... I'd pay any price to get her back and then find a way to track down the culprit." This is actually a bit of foreshadowing for what we learn about their backstory later on.

During the events of the game where Lyney is accused of murder and kidnapping a young woman (connected with the case of young missing women), we find out the twins are not just your friendly neighborhood magicians, but they are also working for the Fatui--an enemy faction, who have their roles behind many international plots. This upsets us but we still decide to defend Lyney and Lynette.

To prove their innocence, Lyney and Lynette reveal how their magic trick of swapping places with an audience member is done. Part of the trick involves Lynette briefly exiting the original box, disguised as Lyney, to pretend the swap hadn't worked, before Lyney steps out of the correct box and wows the audience. Lyney says, "I mean, we are twins. All it takes is a change of clothes and no one can tell who's who, hehe." The twins are twinning!!!

Lyney reveals their tragic backstory, of how they became street orphans after their parents died. To provide for the two of them, he observed a street magician and learned a few tricks. He mentions, "But, I didn't want my sister to remain a street rat together with me forever." The way he words it feels so selfless--he's thinking of Lynette before himself. While they're twins, he's definitely her older brother, and in the Japanese dub, Lynette calls him "onii-chan" WHICH IS INSANELY CUTE.

The two of them became popular enough as street performers, they caught the attention of a rich noble, who adopted them.

Their sad story doesn't end there. Lyney explains the noble basically paraded them around in his social circles as entertainment. One night, Lyney realizes Lynette is not in the car with him to go home and waits for her all night. When she doesn't return, Lyney asks the noble about her and is told someone had taken a liking to Lynette. And so, the bastard actually gave his sister away. As a gift.

I'll note here this is pretty intense for a Genshin scenario. The game is relatively PG, and while murder, etc, is talked about, and there are innuendos galore, we've never had straight up sexual abuse hinted at (as far as I know).

Lyney manages to find the location of his sister and sets out to save her. We see how young they are in this screenshot and by this time, they've already gone through this scenario--it's wild!!

By the time Lyney gets there, Arlecchino has already killed the piece of shit noble and saved Lynette, along with several other young orphan girls found in the basement. They mention no harm had come to Lynette yet. Arlecchino is a Fatui Harbinger, and has an incredibly ruthless demeanor, but she does run the House of the Hearth, seemingly full of orphans she's recruited. She offers the two of them to join the House of the Hearth and is referred to as "Father" by the orphans.

I think Lyney and Lynette do get close to the other children, but in particular, they seem close with Freminet, and even introduce him as their younger brother. I love them!!!

This has been a monster post, and I haven't even gotten to the text lore or their personal quest. I'll save that for a part 2, but even though this post is excessive, I just NEEDED to absolutely gush how cute they are.

#lyncest #lynecest #shipcest #i know no one is gonna read this but if anyone just wants to know about these two without downloading genshin at 1million gb #doing dozens of hours of story quests to get to fontaine #i am gonna give a damn play by play of every cute moment between them #truly just for me to come back to and relive lololol #fontaine spoilers #my recs #seriously no other genshin siblings are as. siblingy as this #so far all 3 siblings have shown up in each others character trailers #it's so adorable im crying #cant wait for lyney and lynette to show up in freminet's trailer

[rist-ix]

So, I was thinking about that, in chapter 16 tbhtbhs, the chapter bloom runs away, she didn’t kill valtor because she’s kind feel something for him, or because she thought she has no chance?

Hahaha HA, tumblr user supremevaltor, you have fallen right into my trap! For you see, now I have an opening to prepare my favorite attack: analyzing my own fic!

If we jump a few paragraphs back in the very same chapter, we get to see Bloom have an existential crisis over the fact that she COULD convince herself she feels SOMETHING for Valtor, if she tried.

And this vaguest tiniest confession of not-hatred (to herself, mind you, not even to Darcy, who’s witnessing All That) has her absolutely spiraling to the point it’s physically and visibly affecting her.

By the time she gets to the library she has mostly recovered from that realization, and by recovered I mean she’s buried that shit and is politely refusing to look at it.

Now, fast forward to the library. Valtor, for the first time in almost four years, has been completely and utterly honest, is drunk and in a uniquely vulnerable position, and does not demand honesty from Bloom (which she’s struggling with) but a comforting lie (which she’s bad at, but shouldn’t be opposed to).

Betraying him at this point instead of besting him in combat does not feel good for Bloom, but she can rationalize that away pretty easily.

Now though. Now she has a problem.

For ensuring her long-term freedom and the overall safety of the dimension, she should definitely kill him here. Valtor says as much, she will never get a better chance.

Here’s where it gets complicated.

What you mentioned definitely plays a role here: she doubts her chances of success. Valtor has blindsided and overwhelmed her by feigning weakness in the past, every battle so far has gone in his favor, he always has an ace up his sleeve and so on. He’s also - desperately - trying to goad her into attacking, which to him is a way to keep her here until the handcuffs’ spell runs out, and to Bloom seems highly suspicious.

But to attempt to kill him now would also mean to be confronted with the loss of him. Which would mean reopening that Pandora’s box of “What do I feel for him”. And Bloom, due to her feeling of immense guilt and debt to her friends, cannot acknowledge that her hatred for him has softer impurities. If Valtor died, she would not only physically feel the loss of their connection, she would never hear his voice again. She prides herself on being able to predict what he’ll say sometimes, to interpret and understand him in a way no one else can. That would end, immediately.

If he died, she would lose someone whose company she’s grown so used to and familiar with. Someone - maybe the only one! - she has no fear of disappointing, who has unwavering faith in her and who she CANNOT hurt emotionally no matter how angry and violent and bitter she gets. (Because a) he definitely always deserves it, and b) he enjoys fighting verbally almost as much as he enjoys fighting physically. He already knows all the worst impulses of her, and he’s never disapproved.)

It’s a comforting thing to know and be known so fully. Losing that would be daunting, no matter the nature of their relationship.

There’s a reason I chose the library as the setting for this encounter btw. And that’s that libraries are sexy. But also, the book they read the night before is still on that table, page marked. Bloom looks at it very briefly before she runs.

Not only did they have a pleasant time and a very emotionally honest conversation here, Valtor has also surprised her. There’s a point after he realizes Bloom can’t read Domino’s language where he apologizes, and cuts himself off when he starts to look for a scapegoat. (It was Faragonda. He always blames Faragonda.)

Bloom doesn’t know that last part, but it still stood out to her that he stopped talking mid-sentence. (Valtor!!!!! Stopped talking!!!!!)

It’s a short glimpse of a Valtor who does not prioritize control of the situation over Bloom’s feelings, and allows (forces) himself to not make this a power struggle, but a moment of understanding, and connection.

(The page is marked! Symbolizing clear intent to continue! They can go back to it whenever they want, and revisit that genuine and sincere part of their relationship! Bloom looks at it and runs!)

To kill him here, face to face with what he already is to her and who he could be, is not something Bloom can stomach. And this is a Bloom who has killed better people for less, when it meant the immediate safety of her friends.

If Valtor paused long enough to examine that, which I’m undecided on whether he has, he might feel a lot better about that day.

Alas, he goes apeshit.

#fantastic ask thank you very much #asks #fic: to be hunted to be haunted #fic: to know to want #sparxshipping

[thetomorrowshow]

Grian was obliterated by a sonically-charged shriek

GoodTimeWithScar died

“Tim?”

Jimmy doesn’t look up. Not yet. Instead, he gazes down, closer, at where Scar had spontaneously exploded into nothing, his possessions flying every which way. It had been a lonely death for both of them. Like his own.

“Tim,” Grian says again, and Jimmy looks up at him. He looks . . . like himself. A bit frazzled, a bit of Red still glinting in his eyes, but that’s just Grian, really. Behind him, Scar waves, fully clothed once again.

“Why are you here?”

Jimmy almost laughs at that, because where else would he be? He’s always been here, in a sense. So has Grian.

Grian’s different, though. Grian fights back. Grian doesn’t want to be here.

Jimmy closes the eyes he has on Martyn and Pearl and Etho and focuses all of his attention on Grian. “I have to be here,” he says eventually. “You know that.”

And maybe Grian pretends he doesn’t know, but the look Scar gives him is not insignificant. Scar knows Grian quite well, has been around him long enough, will stay with him (Jimmy can See the strings that still connect the two, can See that their futures are sewn together into one seam). Scar knows a thing or two about Seeing.

Grian snorts. “Who are you hanging around for this time? Scott, Martyn, Joel—the game’s over, Timmy. Go home.”

“Funny,” Jimmy mumbles, a pang echoing through his chest. “That’s just what Tango said.”

“Listen to him,” advises Grian, patting Jimmy heavily on the shoulder. “You’re on a new server, aren’t you? Something about kingdoms?”

Grian knows full well where Jimmy lives. Jimmy feels his eyes sometimes, late at night when they’re both supposed to be fast asleep, a foreign sense of panic and then relief at finding him exactly where he’s supposed to be. He humors Grian, though, nods.

“Right. Go there. Forget about these guys, they’ll be along soon enough. Yeah?”

There’s something hopeful in Grian’s tone, in the way he almost-but-doesn’t grab Jimmy’s hand. 

Jimmy hates disappointing people.

He shakes his head. “My work here isn’t done,” he says softly. “You know that.” 

Grian’s jaw tightens, his face smoothing over into blankness.

“Fine. Do what you want, I can’t stop you.”

Grian could try to stop him, if he really wanted to. He was always so powerful. But the avian glances at Scar, then back at Jimmy, and Jimmy wonders briefly if Grian really thinks Scar doesn’t know.

After all, if Scar was any less aware of the situation at hand, he wouldn’t be able to see Jimmy at all.

There’s not another word from Grian as he stomps off, disappearing into the mist that surrounds them. Scar hangs back, shoots Jimmy what’s likely meant to be a calming smile.

“He’s just grumpy that he got us killed, don’t worry about him,” Scar says jovially. Then, quieter, more considerate, he adds, “He’s scared for you. He thinks you’re . . . employed against your will, shall we say.”

“I’ve been a Watcher for quite a bit longer than he ever was, thanks,” Jimmy retorts, and to Scar’s credit he doesn’t even blink. “And he knows what I am, who I am. Tell him if he’s got a problem with that, he can bring it up with the Prophecies of Old, all right?”

Scar grimaces. “I’m sure he knows . . . whatever that’s all about. Season Eight just spooked him, is all. And then this. . . .” he clears his throat. “He'll be back to regular-ol’-Grian in no time! Well, gotta get back to my theme park. See ya, TJ!”

And then Scar’s gone, mist covering him in one great cloud and then breaking apart to reveal he’s vanished. Jimmy nearly laughs—typical Scar and his magic tricks.

There’s still four pairs for him to Watch. And from what Jimmy’s seen (and what he’s Seen) of this game, he knows which ones are going to lose.

His going first had been a given, really—he has to be outside of the game to really manipulate anything. Tango had been an unfortunate byproduct of that.

Next was Ren and BigB, mostly due to Grian’s trap prophecy—and maybe Jimmy ought to find an assistant, because it’s getting rather hard to keep track of all these prophecies and bring them to fruition, but he managed that one rather nicely and then made certain that none of Grian’s traps worked for the rest of the game, which ultimately led to his downfall.

It’s just the four pairs left now, and it’s easy to push subconsciously for the portal to be trapped, and even easier to push both Joel and Etho through it. He had planned for a while for them to die, but Etho’s slippery and Joel’s unexpected, so he feels some sort of vindictive pleasure when Joel swears his way through the After and into the Beyond (trying to forget the abject horror with which he Listened to Joel’s agonized pleas for Etho to find safety, to not feel this pain).

Impulse and Bdubs are an easy choice after that, even though Pearl really should not be able to win that fight. Bdubs Sees a bit more than he should, sticks his tongue out at Jimmy as Impulse pulls him back to Hermitcraft, seeing nothing.

And then he has to end it.

Jimmy can See his friends, the smudges of dirt and dried blood that paint them, the haggard lines of exhaustion in their faces. He can Hear the desperation in their thoughts, the way their voices beg for mercy.

He’s perhaps the only one who can grant it.

And he’s made his choice.

Maybe it’s the ghost of his voice that whispers for Martyn to turn against Scott, and maybe he chooses Martyn because of how well Martyn Listens, but Martyn just tilts his head, nods, and nocks a firework.

Cleo doesn’t want to go along with him, but she has to. Jimmy makes sure to eliminate all of her other options. He sends them after Pearl. He wants to give the victor a little more victory before the end.

When they die, they appear beside Jimmy just as everyone else has, but unlike everyone else, Jimmy speaks to them.

“Hey, Martyn,” he says, and Martyn looks every which way before his face dawns with comprehension.

“Timmy,” he chuckles, even as Cleo frowns at him. “Thought the voice sounded like you. Third again, Tim—have you got something against me?”

“Who are you talking to?” Cleo asks. “We’re alone.”

“It’s not your turn yet,” is all Jimmy can say. He’s not sure when it’ll be Martyn’s turn—there’s dozens of prophecies he has to sort through before deciding which threads to follow next time, and he doesn’t even know if any of them have Martyn as a winner. The Watchers and Listeners alike are rather frustrated with Martyn lately; he wouldn’t put it past them to make him suffer for a while.

“That sucks. Least I didn’t kill myself this time, am I right?”

“Sure. Good job, Martyn.” Jimmy tells him, voice purposefully placating. Martyn doesn’t sputter in outrage, though, as he would in the games. He just shoots a tired smile in the opposite direction of Jimmy (who Sees it anyway) and says,

“How long are you here for?”

Cleo rolls her eyes and steps into the mist, past death. Martyn lingers, waiting—hopefully, almost—for an answer.

Jimmy checks up on Scott and Pearl. They’ve still not met up, yet, Scott taking a moment to rest before finding her.

“Not long,” he says after a moment, the bloodlust that’s been plaguing everyone’s thoughts for so long (and giving him a horrid headache) finally beginning to abate. “Why?”

Martyn shuffles his feet a little bit, shrugs. “I dunno. Figured you might not want to be alone after this, might want to hang out. Yeah?”

Jimmy doesn’t remind him that he’s got an entire server to return to, plenty of friends waiting for him. He knows that Martyn’s not asking for Jimmy’s sake.

“I’ll message you,” he promises, and Martyn smiles again before fading into the mist.

Then all that’s left is the victor.

And Scott.

And Jimmy, of course, but he doesn’t ever really count himself when it comes to these games, even when he’s still within them. He’s always out first, he always has to be—and not only for prophecy purposes. Grian really doesn’t like Watchers—or any sort of outsider—intruding on his territory, but someone has to be there to make sure there’s safe passage to another world.

Scott’s making his way toward Pearl now. Pearl’s still cuddling her dogs, telling them all about how she won.

And then Scott’s there, just behind her, and maybe it’s a little push from Jimmy that puts the idea in Scott’s head, gets him to start unbuckling his chestplate.

It’s not like Scott will ever know. With the Red bloodlust, Scott would be lucky to even recognize thoughts that are his own.

Pearl doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like Scott’s tower of tnt, doesn’t like that he’s talking to her, could be a distraction—her fingers flex around the sweat-stained leather of her sword hilt, ready to block any attack that comes, ready to slash the wire of a fishing rod—but Scott simply smiles, congratulates her, and lights his pyre.

She screams, quick and cut-off because soon enough Scott’s dead and just afterward she’s dead.

The world relaxes under Jimmy’s hands, held taut for so long. He relaxes as well. It’s over. It’s finally over.

Scott turns up before Pearl, and Jimmy, knowing all, knows why—he’s let her ghost linger for a few moments, long enough to say farewell to her dogs.

Scott looks around, and there’s a light behind the fading Red in his eyes that tells Jimmy exactly what he’s looking for, exactly what he’s remembering.

“No happy ending this time, eh?” he asks with a quirk of his lips. Jimmy chuckles. Scott can’t hear him or see him, though, so it’s a moment of humor reserved for himself.

Scott turns to leave, but pauses. “Don’t forget MCC this weekend, yeah?” he tosses over his shoulder. Then he’s gone.

And it’s just Jimmy.

And Pearl, who has suddenly appeared.

“Oh,” she says quietly, then louder, “hello? Is anyone here? Scott?”

She’ll leave soon enough and forget her loneliness, so Jimmy turns his attention toward more pressing matters. The world’s going to collapse entirely soon—otherwise it would just be taking up space—and Jimmy helps it along, grabbing a line of code and yanking, watching it unspool an entire hill. That’s always going to be satisfying to him, no matter how many times he does it.

A sound from beside him—she hasn’t left yet, oddly enough. “I’m still alone,” Pearl sniffles, and one unseeable eye blinking open before her shows Jimmy that she looks so terribly lost, tears just forming in her eyes. “Except I don’t even have Tilly with me, here. It’s just . . . me.”

What’s left of Pearl’s tower folds in on itself, vanishes as the world itself begins to twist. Box crumbles. Jimmy winces as his own grave cracks and disappears.

Pearl’s crying, Jimmy realizes with a start, a fat tear rolling down her cheek before she can stop it. She rubs at her eyes with the torn sleeve of her hoodie, takes in a shuddering breath.

“I wanna go home,” she whispers to no one, and Jimmy wonders why she doesn’t. “Which way is home?” 

Oh. If Jimmy isn’t mistaken, she’s glitched. 

It’s not the first time he’s had to deal with a glitched player in one of Grian’s death worlds. Last game, Bdubs’s final death had glitched similarly, leaving him stuck in the limbo of the void. He’d started to become Watcherish for the week that he was stuck, looking down at the game below and eventually Seeing. It had taken Jimmy far too long to try the simplest solution, the one that actually got him out, after working through dozens of different ones.

This time, he takes Pearl’s hand before he tries anything else.

She gasps, but she doesn’t let go. Instead, her grip tightens around Jimmy’s not-quite-corporeal hand.

“I’ll lead you home,” he tells her, knowing she’ll hear nothing.

Pearl, to her credit, follows.

She doesn’t stop crying, which is awkward for Jimmy, really, because how is he meant to comfort someone to whom he is nothing more than mist right now? And sometimes her cries are less anguished and more angry, and that’s a whole issue that he really doesn’t want to deal with so maybe it’s better that he can’t help.

She’ll start feeling better once she’s on Hermitcraft again. Red still stains her skin and mind, leftover from being Last. Both Grian and Scott had each had a particularly difficult time shaking off the despairing bloodlust after their respective wins.

But neither of them had glitched. Both had moved on almost instantly to their next servers. Pearl is stuck here with all of those warped feelings.

He doesn’t envy her position. He does pity it.

It’s not a short walk to Hermitcraft, but not a particularly long one either—Jimmy leads her into the mist for maybe ten minutes before he starts feeling the pull, that distinct Hermity feeling that tells him in gentle whispers that this is where Pearl belongs.

He releases her hand and her defenses shoot up, face guarded and one hand ready to punch while the other grasps aimlessly at nothing.

She needs a final push, then. If she were more in her right mind, she would have sensed the pull of her home.

And she just looks so terribly lonely.

So Jimmy forces all of his strength into giving his body weight and wraps her in a hug.

She’s surprised, and murder is still very much at the forefront of her mind, but after a moment she relaxes into it, hugs him back, her hands grabbing for a body that isn’t there to her. She sighs, butts her head up against him, her head finally going quiet enough that it isn’t grating on Jimmy’s ears.

“Don’t know who you are,” she says. “Too tall to be Grian, which is who I expected, really. Thank you, though—whoever you are.”

“You’re welcome,” Jimmy responds, and she still doesn’t hear him, but she lets him ease her into Hermitcraft’s current before releasing her to disappear into it.

And he’s really been alone for quite some time, but finally he’s alone-alone, with no more voices and faces that he has to keep track of. He can just close all of his eyes and stop Seeing and stop Listening and just Stop for a moment.

There’s so much paperwork to do.

He could stay here to do it. Once he’s done overseeing the destruction of the server he could just hang out in the timeless nothing of the void, where no one can bother him and he can get it done on time, rather than cram it all into his schedule the night before the deadline.

Or he could go back to Tumble Town, finally get a chance to relax. Stretch out in his own bed with Deputy Norman by his side. Get dirt under his fingers, feel the mesa sun beat down on him, build something with his own two hands. It’s really not a tough choice to make.

He’s always been more Player than anything else.

So Jimmy goes the way Joel and Scott went, follows the thread that whispers of Empires until he finds the current, lets himself be washed away into it.

He’ll definitely do some of that paperwork tomorrow. Totally.

-

Jimmy wakes with a gasp, lungs frantically filling and refilling after so many days in the void without needing to breathe. He’d forgotten how much of an adjustment period properly having a body is (at least it’s not as bad as waking in the Cod Empire had been; the air of the mesa is much thinner and doesn’t feel like soup sliding down his throat).

Other than his breathing, it’s quiet. Not quiet in the way of the void, the suffocating silence only broken by the words of the dead. Quiet in the way of the world—wind kicking up a bit of sand outside, the cry of a faraway bird, Norman purring at the foot of the bed.

He thinks maybe he’ll build a shop today.

Jimmy takes a few more long minutes to figure out how to breathe and move before forcing himself up. He rolls out of bed, pulls on his jeans and buttons up his shirt. He grabs a bite of hardtack before stepping into his cowboy boots, dusts the crumbs off his hands and pins his sheriff badge onto his vest.

He’s about to step out the door when he realizes he’s almost forgotten the most important part! On a hook by the kitchen table is a beautiful ten-gallon hat, and he swings it on and fingers the part of the brim that’s already wearing thin before marching out the door, ready for a day of living.

A violet eye blinks open in the back of the hat.

#double life smp #trafficblr #dlsmp #double life fanfic #mcyt #jimmy solidarity #traffic smp #solidaritygaming #watcher jimmy #listener jimmy #listener martyn #ask to tag #empires smp #I TOLD YOU I WASNT HURTING HIM IN THIS ONE #so welcome to my new au #will be on ao3 once i title it #i don't currently have any ideas for writing more of it #but there's. there's a lot of lore here #the day the last dl ep came out i went into a haze and emerged two hours later with this #i didn't even know what it was about until the next day #there's so much lore for this au that i'm probably not gonna do much with #just bc i have other focuses atm #but basics: jimmy is a triple threat and the first one ever #which means there's a lot of prophecies abt him #and he's learning how to fulfill prophecies so he can bring peace to his peoples etc #very chosen one-esque ik #mas writes #anyways lmk what you think! #love you guys